#fallout 3 companions reacts

[grumpymirelurkqueen]

Hi, can I request a fallout 3? Companion reaction to the LW with good karma.

Hi, you're my first Fallout 3 request. You have no idea how happy I am to write this for my favourite companions. Thank you very much for your request. I hope you enjoy it. And sorry for my English mistakes, it's not my mother tongue…

FO3 companions react to LW with good karma:

Butch :

He's not surprised, I mean, you grew up together. You always protected Amata when he was a little shit. But he's grateful you got him out of the shelter before he really went off the deep end. Although he's very embarrassed by that. He's never really been a good person, but he's never been a bad one either. He's not a monster, just an immature young adult.

Sergent RL-3 :

A soldier has to be good, but also firm. My God this poor old robot is torn in two. Your dynamic is like the bad cop and the good cop. If he were human and could drink whiskey, he'd drink to every good deed.

Fawkes :

The one who is most proud of you, of all the companions. Seeing you protect those who can't, killing villains, or recovering children kidnapped by his brothers. That's what warms his mutant heart. He'll congratulate you, give you advice and, above all, say what he thinks about the situation and you. But if your karma goes lower and lower, he'll be disappointed but won't tell you. After a while he'll ask you if you're doing well mentally. He's afraid he hasn't seen any clues. He will stay with you for a while once the karma is bad, but will leave with a heavy heart.

Paladin Cross :

She's happy to be travelling with you, finally someone good in this world. But she doesn't say it openly, a pat on the back. Is the only thing to congratulate you. But if you have to lose your karma, secretly she will be disappointed (depending on your level of relationship with her.). But above all she'll go back to the citadel without a word and with a sad heart for having believed in Father Christmas.

Jericho :

The most hostile of them all. If he wasn't in Megaton, he'd accept a lot of capsules to put a bullet in your head. But somehow he understands that you're not witty enough to be mean.

Clover :

Compared to Jericho, she won't be too hostile towards you. She'll just be disappointed by your behaviour, believing she's found a new dictator with troubled tendencies. She'll just be bitter with you. But she'll still fall in love with you somehow.

Charon :

Charon doesn't give a fuck about your karma. But my God, it feels good not to kill women and innocent children or to put a bullet between the eyes of a simple drunken traveller for Ahzrukhal. But sometimes he's a bit scared of your kindness, he tends to prefer someone neutral or openly nasty. For him, kindness means hiding. And he doesn't want to discover your inclination if you're a fake.

Dogmeat :

This good dog doesn't care about your karma. He'll always be with you, as long as you don't mistreat him or betray his trust in you. A bone, a corpse, a fight plus a caress to congratulate him and he'll be fine. He'll be loyal to you with any kind of karma.

ᴵᵗ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵗʳᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᴰᵒᵍᵐᵉᵃᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ᶜᵃⁿⁱᵍᵒᵘ.

—————————————————————

#fallout 3 #fallout 3 companions reacts #fallout 3 companions #fallout 3 charon #fallout companions #fo3 #butch deloria #fallout 3 butch #dogmeat #fallout 3 jericho #fallout 3 clover #fallout 3 fawkes #fallout 3 paladin cross #fallout 3 sergent rl-3 #jericho #clover #fawkes #sergent rl-3 #paladin cross #charon #fallout 3 dogmeat #fallout 3 headcanon #fo3 companions #fo3 fanfic #charon fo3 #butch fo3 #fo3 charon

[danses-with-dogmeat]

I just have to ask you for a few characters 👉👈 Porter Gage, Hancock, Raul, Charon and Gob ack don't call me out for my ghoul loving ass just getting showered in praise. I just feel the ghouls don't GET enough lovin', they are all wonderful, handsome and great men.

Porter Gage is the odd one out because I just love that raider man and been playing Nuka World recently-

Select FO Companions React to Sole/Lone/Six Giving them Praise

I'm back!! Oof, so I've officially finished moving and unpacking and all that junk, and I'm ready to get back to the important things lol. Alrighty, so just an update, I've decided to just get back to regular posting. I only had a few more for the 1k event to do, but I knew it would take another few days to get to if they were going to be any good 😅 So, I apologize if I didn't get to yours, but I'm SO thankful for all of you who participated, it was such a blast, and I hope to do more events like it in the future 😊

Anyways, now, let's get back to it! (Also, just one more reminder that requests are closed for the time being so I can catch up on the ones I have now, but I will let you know when they open back up!)

ALRIGHT, so now to the actual post. This is so sweet, omg! 😩 These guys all really do deserve more loving, like... Always. As usual, let me know if you wanna see anyone else for this at all! Cuz goodness knows there are plenty of Fallout folks that deserve to hear a compliment or two much more often.

Included Below: Charon, Gage, Gob, Hancock, Joshua, & Raul

Also, just a heads up, this isn't explicit, per say, but it does get kinda steamy in some places, so just a little NSFW warning for ya. 😉

I hope you enjoy!

Charon:

“Oh my god.” Lone’s mouth hung open as Charon stepped down the stairs and towards the living room. 

“What?” He paused his movement, brow scrunching more than usual as he looked down over himself to see if anything was amiss.

They only shook their head at first, finally managing to close their mouth to gulp before they began to answer him verbally. 

“Look, I know you just, like, just put on the armor and everything, but Charon, I think… I think you’re gonna have to take it off.” 

Lone’s eyes drifted hungirly over the ghoul’s large frame, the way the dark, freshly polished leather clung to his muscular form forcing a blushing heat to flush over their face. 

He only scoffed at them, continuing his descent into the room to drop his bag by the door. Lone stood up abruptly from their place on the couch and turned to face their partner with a hard expression on their face. 

“What? I’m not allowed to be attracted to my boyfriend?” Their hands came to their hips as their voice took on a distinct hardness that he was always trying to avoid. 

That’s never a good sign. Charon thought with a frown. 

“No need to act for my benefit.” He grumbled, “I’ve seen myself, Lone.” 

He tried not to notice the way his partner flinched at his words. 

They can’t be serious, what delusions do they think I’m under?

“Clearly not the way I have, then.” They said firmly as they took a step closer. Charon stood his ground as Lone approached him with slow intent, something unknown to him written in their expression. 

“Forget what I said,” they continued, “No need to take off your armor.” He set his jaw as they gazed up at him, their hands brushing up over the leather on his chest until their fingertips grazed the skin of his neck. 

“I’ll just do it for you.” They began to work at the fastenings of his armor, the metal buckles glinting in the low light that streamed through the meager windows of their Megaton house. 

“Lone…” 

“I want to show you. If you won’t listen to what I say, maybe what I do will have some influence on you.” Charon made no move to assist them as they began to pull the leather cuirass over his head, undoing the laces at his sides before reaching up as far as their arms would take them, the collar of the armor failing to come any further up than his jawline as they strained on their tiptoes. The ghoul sighed, ducking down to allow them to finally wrench the leather free of his bulky frame. 

They set the piece on the couch with a huff, and despite his reservations, Charon took a few steps closer to them, his icy stare boring into his partner as they turned and knelt alluringly before him, their hands grazing up over his thighs as they moved to his center. 

“Do you want this?” Lone brought their gaze up to him, fixing their partner with hooded eyes darkened with their lust for him, as their fingers rested delicately over his leather codpiece. Charon hardly had to think before responding hastily.

“Yes." He growled, "Show me.” 

A relieved smile touched their lips, and they quickly turned their attention back to their work below his waist. 

The ghoul's chest shuddered with anticipation as he felt the pressure release around his hips, fighting to hold back a groan as Lone meticulously removed each piece of polished leather he’d fastened onto himself not half an hour ago. When he was freed of his armor fully, standing before his partner in loose-fitting trousers and a black crew neck, Lone looked him over quickly from head to toe before descending upon him, delicate fingers moving hastily to pull his shirt from his sculpted torso. 

This time, Charon did assist, lifting his arms and practically ripping the thing at the seams as he brought it over his head. Despite both of their haste, once he was free of the shirt, Lone paused, the palms of their hands warm against his chest where they rested with their fingers splayed, grasping slightly at the taut skin there. Their hands rose and fell with the rhythm of his breathing, noticeably faster than usual, as his anticipation grew. 

“You’re so handsome…” They let slip. It wasn’t more than a whisper, and Charon wasn’t sure whether they’d meant to say it aloud at all, but it escaped them nonetheless, as their transfixed stare grazed over his semi-bare form. 

Whether they meant to voice the compliment or not, their words took Charon out of the moment, his smoky gaze sharpening within the confines of his narrowed eyes. He even let out another snort of disbelief that managed to catch Lone’s attention and draw their gaze to meet his own.

“Sorry, I just… I do mean it though. Not everyone may feel similarly, including yourself, and I don’t know that I can ever really change that, but Charon… I see you that way. The way you can’t seem to.”

Lone’s voice became desperate as their gaze fell to capture the movement of their fingers fidgeting over his skin, the digits absent-mindedly tracing over the rough grooves upon his ravaged chest with absolute care.

“It’s no lie, either." They whispered, "Not me trying to convince you otherwise, or make you feel better– well, if it makes you feel good, that’s good, and I want that, but that’s not the only thing I’m trying to do by saying– or, by complimenting you, I want you to–”

“Lone.”

One of Charon’s large hands closed around his partner’s shoulder, forcing their restless hands to cease their frenzied rubbing over him, and silencing Lone’s fragmented explanations. 

Their eyes met his once more, glistening orbs of earnestness and desperation against cold, dark windows reflecting back their own form of desperation in turn. 

Enough. He meant to say, but the vault dweller’s stubbornness in this matter left him no room to voice his concerns with their speech. 

“Charon.” They said firmly, “Please don’t. Don’t shut out what I’m telling you. Even if you can never believe what I say for yourself, know that I believe it. I’m mad for you. All of you.” 

Their voice lowered an octave at their final confession, and Lone surged forward, their hands grasping forcefully at his shoulders, and pulling his lips to theirs as they tasted him in earnest. Charon meant to say their name again, but all that escaped him was a groan as they crashed against him, the firmness of their insistent pressure a stark contrast from the pillowy softness of their lips.

They pulled away breathlessly before quickly moving their lips lower, the smooth petals of their mouth tickling against the sensitive skin of his neck, his collarbone, and chest. 

“I’m mad for this.” They growled between fevered pecks, “And this, and here. All of it.”

Like the volts of a live wire, violent shudders shocked the ghoul’s spine as Lone’s lips and tongue delved lower, hastily passing over his ribcage, their nose tracing a teasing line down his center as they knelt down and settled their attentions just at his naval, hungry fingers finally releasing the pressure exerted on him by his own damned zipper, and the painfully tight fabric of his briefs.  

“I’ll show you, my love. I’ll convince you to see yourself like I do. Whatever it takes.” They promised, and Charon’s neck arched as his head hung back in sheer bliss at their next heated action. 

“Show me.” He groaned.

Gage:

“Will you cut that shit out? S’not funny, boss.”

“No, Gage. I really do. I know it’s not funny, I’m not fucking joking." Their eyes bore into his as they tilted their head towards him, their voice as desperate as it was irate, "I honestly don’t care about that patch, or how old you are, how bad you think you are, any of it. You’re good for me. You’re incredible. You're strong, and dependable, you make me smile and laugh, and–” 

“Yeah, alright, I think you’ve had enough of that.” 

One rough hand reached out to grab at the bottle in Sole’s hand, but they snatched it away before he could pull it from their grasp.

“Quit it, Gage! I’m your Overboss, and that’s an order. Now let me finish.”

Gage huffed and rolled his good eye, folding his arms over themselves gruffly as he leaned back against the worn couch cushions. Sole only shook their head, setting their bottle down on the side table and scooting closer to the raider. They placed a hand on his thigh and fixed him with an uncanny sort of look, depleted of their frustration with him, and full of something else entirely. Their muted smile and the gleam in their eyes made for an expression he’d only ever seen reserved for family members, for the closest of friends, or for… for lovers. His own eye narrowed suspiciously. 

I know we’re together ‘n all, but… When has anyone looked at me that way before?

Whatever, must be whatever’s in that drink of theirs. 

“Well, get on with it then, since you made such a fuckin’ fuss.” He growled. Sole only broadened their smile softly, their one hand increasing its pressure on his leg as they scooched even closer to him. Gage felt the heat of their body through the thin fabric of his trousers and wife-beater as they pressed closer to him, their free hand sliding up the swell of his chest to rest heavily on his shoulder as their lips met his in a brief kiss. 

Gage only had an instant to close his eye, to savor them, before they withdrew, just far enough that the pair's contact was severed, but close enough still, that he could make out the distinct and enticing glisten of their lips.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” 

“What’s that?” He breathed. 

“How much I care about you. How good you are for me. How attractive I find you. Even when I try to tell you.” 

Sole’s hand moved downward to brush over his chest, feeling the play of muscle beneath his thin shirt as he threw his head back in a barely contained scoff. 

“Yeah, alright there, Sole. Look, don’t feel like you’ve gotta say all this shit for my benefit. I’m a damn raider, I don’t need t’hear all that flowery, romantic sorta bullshit. I’m a sure thing, boss. I’m easy.” 

As if to emphasize his point, one hand moved lower to grasp around the swell of Sole's hip firmly, pulling them closer, even as their expression hardened.

“You shouldn’t be.” They said firmly, their hand stilling over him. 

Gage’s brow creased low over his eye as Sole pulled away from him roughly. 

“You deserve a lot more than you give yourself credit for," they continued, "I don’t care what you think. You gave me a chance when no one else would. You've always got my back, you support me like nobody else has, and dammit, you deserve that same kind of dedication, Gage.” 

His eye widened at their words, and the raider found himself at a loss for any kind of response. 

I’m really not used to this kinda shit. What am I supposed to say to that? 

Sole sighed at him, a sad smile touching their lips as they hesitantly reached both hands up to his face. Gage had to stop himself from flinching at their tender touch, but they held fast, palms warm against his cheeks as their eyes pleaded with him to just fucking believe what they told him.

Gage swallowed.

Slowly, their hands moved, and their fingers worked their way to the metal secured to his head, fidgeting with the fastenings there until he felt the entire piece loosen and give way. 

“Sole, I don’t think–” He tried, but they silenced him with a look and a whisper. 

“It’s okay. I want to see you.” 

Gage took in a breath. 

No. You don’t.

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” 

He shook his head slightly, and Sole finally pulled the patch from his skin, and set it on the couch beside them. Gage’s jaw clenched as he flinched away, and his gaze flitted to everywhere but Sole, unnervingly afraid to see the repulsion on their face.

He felt their hands on him again, the soft skin caressing his cheeks, and he fought the urge to pull away as his heart increased its thumping in his chest. Gage closed his good eye, trying to turn his marred face away from his partner’s scrutinizing gaze, but their hands held his head firmly in place. 

A brief moment of silence passed before Gage found himself jerking away involuntarily as the feeling of Sole’s… lips? He guessed, ghosted over the scarred flesh of his newly uncovered cheekbone. 

“I meant what I said.” Their warm breath caressed his face as they spoke. “It’s not bullshit, and it’s not a lie.” 

He released a sigh as he opened his good eye once again, the resistance and disbelief effectively gone from his exposed expression, if only just for this moment. 

“I really do, Gage. I love you. And I love all of you.”

Gob:

“What do you mean?” 

Gob paused, Lone’s voice clearly meeting his ears as he stepped outside the back door of Moriarty’s Saloon with two heavy trash bags in hand. 

“Look hon, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I’m just curious, that’s all.” The scent of cigarette smoke and cheap perfume drifted through the ghoul’s meager nose, even from where he stood behind the building, he knew it was Nova that Lone was speaking with.

Something in his head told him he should go out to greet them, but a gut feeling held him back, keeping him in place as he slowly set down the garbage bags and continued to listen in. 

“It’s just that, well, Gob an’ me have been real close for a long time,” Nova’s silky voice continued, “An’ I’ve met lotsa folks you couldn't believe. Look at him like he’s some kinda novelty or somethin’, like the scumbags who look at me like a juicy slice of brahmin. I just wanna be sure you ain’t one of ‘em.” 

The ghoul’s eyes widened as he listened in, his grip tightening on the metal jutting from the side of the building as he awaited Lone’s response. 

Do I even really wanna hear it? A small voice asked in the back of his mind, but he pushed it away, instead leaning forward to hear what his partner had to say. 

“You really think I could be like that?” Panic tightened their voice as it left their throat, less accusatory, and more fraught with worry than he would’ve expected. “Gob doesn’t think that way, does he?” 

“No.” He whispered, shaking his head despite the fact that he was as good as alone on this side of the saloon. 

“Nah, I don’t think so. Gob would never see the bad in you. That’s what he’s gotta have me for. Too many people try to take advantage of the poor guy. Like he hasn’t been through enough.”  

He smiled sadly at that, silently thanking whoever it was in charge of his fate that he met Nova. Without her, well… Moriarty’s would’ve been all the more unbearable. He's not sure he would've made it this far without her, and now, if he didn't have Lone, if he somehow lost them...

Don't wanna even think about that. Maybe I should stop listenin' in, in case... What if they--

“I know.” Lone said, almost too quiet for him to hear, but loud enough to pull him from his troubling thoughts, “It’s true. Everything Gob’s been through… That’s one of the things that drew me to him from the start. All that Moriarty’s done to be cruel, to make his life hell, and he’s still so kind, so sweet and genuine.” 

“Hm.” He heard his friend hum with approval at Lone’s declaration, and something tightened deep in Gob’s chest. 

He held his breath as his partner's voice carried on.

“And so incredibly strong, to persevere through all of this, all that he’s been through for his long life, with Underworld, leaving it all behind and then coming to this, only to end up here. Still, selfish as it is, I'm glad he is here now. If I hadn't met him, I don't..."

Gob heard them chuckle, more a nervous sound then an amused one.

"I really don't want to think what it'd be like if I didn't have him, y'know? He really is incredible. One-of-a-kind out here, and in the vault. I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“You’re smiling real big when you talk about him, you know that?” 

Gob grinned himself as he heard Lone’s giggle echo down into the town, the lovely sound fading with a sigh from them and a moment of silence that had Gob leaning in even further, very nearly exposing his hiding spot to the pair as his anticipation grew. 

“... Well, what can I say? I love him.” 

Gob's breath caught in his throat, and he tried desperately to keep from choking as his grip on the side of the building tightened painfully, his bony fingers digging into the metal with such force, he was liable to bend it.

Nova whistled long and low at that, the butt of her cigarette flying off the balcony as she turned to face Lone, and Gob shifted hastily back against the building once more, hoping he was still concealed. 

“That’s quite the declaration there, hon. You tell him that?” 

“Well, no, not quite… But I plan to, and soon, I think.”

“Hm. Just be careful. Dangerous thing to tell a man.” The door to the saloon creaked open as the sound of Nova’s voice shifted, “Though actually, since it’s Gob, I take it back. Lord knows he needs to hear that more than most. And from you? Poor guy won’t know what to do with himself.” 

Lone laughed again, more genuine this time, less embarrassed, and Gob’s heart thudded hard against his ribcage, a feeling of chills erupting over his ruined skin as he tried in vain to keep his labored breathing quiet. 

The door to the bar slammed to a close, jolting the wall Gob was still leaning against.

But he hardly even felt it. 

They love me? Love?! H-how.. How can they? Why? 

How could he possibly pretend he didn’t know what they’d said when he saw them next? Even now, he found it impossible to contain himself, his entire body vibrating with a giddy energy he didn’t even know he was capable of possessing. 

Lone loves me.

Gob stood shakily from where he was kneeling beside the saloon, his mind going into overdrive as he realized Nova, and soon enough, Lone, would notice his absence in the bar. He turned back to the garbage bags, reaching for one as he took a step forward, but his foot caught on the first step up to the back door, and he fell forward, cringing less at the pain and more at the loud clang that rang out over the town as the better part of his body crashed into the metal building. 

“Aw, dammit.” He grumbled, glancing over his shoulder rapidly in search of Lone. 

The ghoul held still a moment, sighing in relief when he didn’t hear a sound beyond his own breathing. He stood up and brushed himself off brusquely. 

Still need to get in there quick.

“Gob? What are you– Oh, are you okay?” 

The ghoul’s blood ran cold.

“F-fine, Lone, I just– um…” He stuttered out as he turned to face them with a nervous smile.

Dammit, I was right. 

The ghoul’s mouth refused to cooperate as his thoughts scattered in every direction at the sight of his partner. 

Of the one who loved him. 

He gulped.

“You didn’t hit your head, did you?” They asked, reaching a hand out as if to brush it over his head, but he shook his head firmly, stalling their movement. 

“You look so… So red… Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He nodded to them, willing his body to cool down, willing his tongue to untangle, willing himself to meet their eyes, but he simply couldn’t. 

“A-are you blushing? Sweetie, I didn’t know you could blush. What’s going on?”

Finally their hand met his face, and the world seemed to quit its confusing spinning, his heart stilled its frantic pounding, and he could finally meet their concerned gaze. His eyes were apologetic as he looked at them, swallowing hard as a few fragmented words began to creep into his mind.

“O-oh. Oh no.” Lone’s eyes widened, and Gob didn’t have to say a word. “No, you didn’t! Tell me you didn’t… You heard it?! How much did you hear?” 

They pulled their hand away from him, their voice desperate and loud as they questioned him with panic etched all over their face.

Gob tried to stay calm, his skin feeling warmer than coals as the words of explanation formed on his tongue. 

What if that does it? What if this is it? What if I just ruined this?  

“Not, well, I don’t think, I just–” He stuttered out awkwardly, willing his voice not to crack with the fear he felt bubbling up in his chest, “Well, I don’t think that I heard all of it, but… Yeah, I did, ah, I heard that last part.” Gob’s head hung low at the end of his confession, as he saw the disappointment in Lone’s eyes. 

Had they ever really planned on telling me? Were they just saying that to Nova, to make her feel better? Did they really even mean it?

“I’m so sorry, Lone.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.” They told him gently, and he raised his eyes hesitantly to meet theirs. 

“I just… I wish I could’ve told you in a different way. Made it really special.”

“It was. Lone, honey, it was special.” He said quickly, both of his hands reaching out to grasp one of Lone’s, before he even realized he was doing it.

“It means the world to me. Nobody’s ever- I mean, I haven’t ever- I just…” Their eyes shone as they waited for him to finish, and Gob took a deep breath.

“Lone,” He whispered, “I feel the same way.”

Hancock:

“Your eyes, John…” 

“Hm?” 

“Your eyes… They are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Hancock smiled as his partner looked on, reverent in the haze of the Day Tripper they’d taken. They leaned forward from where they were seated, practically in his lap, with one hand against his chest, and fixed him with their appreciative, half-lidded gaze. 

“My eyes are black, Sunshine.” He pecked their nose with his meager lips, taking full advantage of their close proximity to him. “And not kill the vibe or anything, but I think you’ve had enough of these for today.” His hand gently pulled the Day Tripper bottle away from their grasp, but his partner hardly seemed to notice. 

“They are not ‘black’ in that dismissive way you just said they are." They pouted, "Your eyes… They don’t have color, really, but they have depth. Texture.”

“Uh huh.” Hancock tried to withhold the broad, toothy grin that threatened to spread across his lips as Sole looked at him in complete seriousness. 

Damn, they’re cute. 

He raised a hand to the side of their face, caressing it lovingly as one thumb stroked over the soft swell of their cheek.

But should I really have let them take two of those pills? Hm. 

“They’re like space." Sole continued, one hand waving dramatically towards the sky at their declaration.

"Like galaxies and nebulae and a trillion twinkling stars. All wrapped up in a velvety, dark blanket. Not black, but like an inky fabric draping over itself, light catching at each fold, every angle. Full of life, and light, and emotion, and truth.”

“Sunshine, I don’t think–” 

“Shhh.” They brought a finger to his ruined lips, nose nearly grazing the crevice where his once was as they leaned forward with a whisper. “Don’t interrupt, love.” Their lips followed the lead of their finger, brushing his in a light kiss before they pulled back again. 

“I’m not nearly finished.”

Hancock’s apparently mesmerizing eyes widened as they fixed him with a scrutinizing gaze, blown-out pupils sliding their hazy vision over every line of his face, every wrinkle and fold, each scar, and all the complexities of his multi-colored complexion.

Though, as Hancock was much unused to, there was no judgment in their scrutiny. No disgust, no flinching or cringing, not even some morbid kinda curiosity he tended to see in some.

His face couldn’t be chalked up to mere flesh and blood in their eyes. They didn’t see the lines as he did. It was less of a physical entity, and more a mosaic of his person. His character.

In everything, Sole saw the way he had smiled all his life, the way he had frowned, all the speeches he’s given, the manner in which he once combed his hair, and in the way he moved differently once it was all gone.

Sole saw his childhood, the closeness with his family, and then the heart-wrenching pain as they were pulled away from him and made estranged. They could see the years of relentless abuse he’d wrought upon himself, before becoming who he was today. In the emotion written in his scars, they could see his failures, and in the glimmer of his eyes, his successes, and they told him as much.

All of it they said, not with so many words, as they formed and flitted away before their lips had a chance to speak them, but they spoke with their eyes, with their own emotion Hancock couldn’t help but read too deeply into. The intensity of it all forced his hand, inspired his mind to draw connections from nearly nothing at all. The dense subtleties and micro expressions any sane person may have failed to read into, but Hancock wasn’t sane.

He was in love.

And they were too. Of that, the ghoul had no doubt at all. He wasn’t even sure if he’d known that before this very moment. Sole had told him before, sure, but never like this. Saying everything without a voice to back it. The most honest of confessions, and he couldn’t help but confess right back. 

“Damn, Sole…” He breathed over them, inspiring a blink of those brilliant eyes that broke the tension that had grown between them. “I’m so in love with you.” 

To his surprise, his partner looked at him with a flash of disappointment. 

“What is it, baby?” 

“I haven’t even said anything yet. That was supposed to wait for the end.” They pouted rather dramatically. 

“Aww, you didn’t hear all that? Everythin’ you just said? I heard it, loud and clear. No worries there. And no words needed, sunshine, trust me.” 

“Hm.” They pursed their lips, unconvinced. “I think I’ve still gotta tell you anyways.” 

“Sweetheat, there’s nothin’ I’d love more than to listen to your pretty voice sing praises to me all night long, but all that talk just about my eyes? I don’t think you’ll finish before the sun comes up.” 

“If that’s how long it takes for you to quit making all those comments about your ‘ugly mug’ and ‘boring, black’ eyes, then so be it. We’ll be here all night, and into the next day, and all the night after. I’ll keep telling you next week, next month, years from now, when I’m old and wrinkled and a new civilization has risen from the ashes of this ruined world of ours, for this whole lifetime and any others that come along, I'll keep insisting, I’ll keep talking, and kissing, and touching, and loving you until you believe every word with every part of you. And I fucking mean it John Hancock, you know I do.” 

Most of this talk was definitely the Day Tripper. Had to be. At least a little bit. Sole didn’t talk like this, didn’t make big confessions like this, didn’t command him to take their praise so adamantly, but still... every word rang true in their glazed-over eyes.

Whether they were foggy from the drug, or from their affection for him, Hancock didn’t completely know, but he did know that the words people spoke on Day Tripper tended to be true. It was one of the main reasons the drug was dangerous. It helps limit your inhibitions, makes confessions come easy, lessens your anxiety, makes the world seem more open and accepting to whatever strange, deep-rooted, or wholly secret confession your heart and mind held onto far away from the liberating threshold of your mouth. It’s why Hancock doesn’t usually do this one with friends, with people he doesn’t want to lose, with people he’s afraid to trust to stay in his life if they knew all the secrets of his past. He’d told Sole all of this, the dangers of these little pills, and yet, they’d still wanted to try it with him by their side. 

“I do.” He rasped, the words making him shudder as he thought of what they might sound like in some other context, some other promise, down the line of his and Sole’s journey together. 

If I should be so lucky they’d say yes to a promise like that. To a man like me gettin’ down on one knee and making a commitment more serious and binding than being Mayor of Goodneighbor. 

Shit, and I would mean it just as much with them as I did with this town of mine. More so, even.

“I know you mean it, Sole. And I’m gonna really hold you to it one of these days.” He hinted with a half smile as he pressed his lips to their cheek and wrapped an arm around their shoulders tightly, until they yielded in their gathering exhaustion, falling back to rest against him, and sighing softly with sheer contentment. 

“You’d better." They grumbled, "I’ll be waiting with bated breath.” 

“Don’t you worry. You ain’t gonna have to wait too much longer.” They leaned their head against his shoulder, nuzzling into him a few times to get comfortable, and Hancock leaned back, his head resting against theirs as he took their hands in his, his midnight eyes falling to their left hand in particular as his fingers grazed over theirs in a delicate caress, and he daydreamed about the future he'd promised, and they'd promised him.

No. Not much longer at all…

Joshua:

“Joshua?” Your voice carried smoothly over the sand, through the hot, dry air. But Joshua didn’t stir, he didn’t even seem to register his name. 

“You okay?” You pressed forward, craning your neck as you took a couple steps in his direction, trying to see what it was in the creek that had caught his attention so fully. 

“Did you… find something?” You bent down as you reached Joshua’s side, noting the way his unblinking eyes seemed glued to… nothing. Nothing, but his own reflection, staring back with the same intensity. 

The sand shifted beneath you as you settled by Joshua’s side. He noticed you, out of the corner of his eye, but remained silent. 

What could he say? 

How could he speak all that he was thinking, as he peered down at his scarred and bandaged face? Could he voice the way that he feels? So unworthy of your devotion to him, so confused as to why you stay by his side, so appreciative that you care for him the way you do, but so wholly afraid that if he speaks his fears, that they will come true. That, as soon as you come to your senses, as soon as the novelty of being with him fades, you will leave…

Who could love a face like mine? And more… Who could love the man that this face belongs to? A man who has done so much wrong, that his sins could only be absolved through the most violent forms of suffering? And even still… Am I truly free of them? 

He did not feel it. 

“I... am not worthy…” The missionary began quietly, and saw your head snap towards him as the words met your ears. “I am not worthy of even the least of all the deeds of steadfast love and all the faithfulness you have shown me.”

“What?” You asked, your brows furrowing as you shifted your body to face him, rather than the stream of water below. 

“It’s a line from Genesis." He attempted to clarify, "Jacob is speaking to God, speaking to him of his own humility in response to the devotion that the Lord has shown him.”

Your brows didn’t unfurrow. 

“And that… That has to do with…?” 

“I’m not…” Joshua’s jaw clenched as his eyes finally left his own watery visage in favor of hiding behind his downed lids. 

“I’m not sure why I said it. The quote just… came over me.” He lied, knowing full-well that the words had everything to do with you. 

If I tell you that I feel unworthy of you, will that start something? Will that plant the idea in your mind that I don’t deserve you? Will you then act on that idea?

“Hey.” 

He felt your touch upon his shoulder as your voice met his ears, it was light, but unyielding as your fingers clenched at the bandages insistently. 

“You can talk to me.” You smiled as Joshua’s eyes opened and his gaze landed upon your face, and he wasn’t immune to it. Nor your words, and all that they promised. 

Love rejoices with the truth.

“I’m humbled by you, Six. Humbled by the love you show me every day, and I feel… As Jacob did with the love of God. I feel unworthy of you.”

He felt your grip tighten upon his shoulder as sadness flooded your expression. It pained him to know he was the source of the strife he saw in your eyes.

“Sometimes it’s easy to forget who I am, what I’ve done… What I look like, when I’m beside you, but then, my reflection finds me. Then as I look upon your face, as I remember your deeds and your devotion to me, your kindness to others... I cannot help but feel confused.”

“Joshua, I–” 

He continued insistently, his scarred brow hardening over the intense blue of his eyes as you saw them spark with fire from within.

“I have erred more times than I could possibly count, and yet, each is written upon me, like a shouted word, etched into my very skin for all the world to see. For all who gaze upon me to pity me and my failures, to hate my deeds and to agree that I am unworthy of compassion and repentance. That I am unworthy of happiness, and certainly, of love. They see you beside me, and they know, simply by seeing me, that I am unworthy of you.” 

Joshua’s hand traveled slowly up to grasp at yours. Your eyes were wide and glistening as he gently took hold of you, and removed your touch from him. 

The air was utterly caught in your throat as your partner released your hand from his grip and stood beside you, his gaze resting back on the reflection in the running water that marred his covered features even further with each ripple over the small, jagged river stones that weren’t yet smoothed over by the current. 

“But it seems that you’ve failed to note this. Whether by choice, or simply because you are too righteous to see such things, you’ve still stood by me, even despite all that I’ve done, and that I am... I had to be sure you know the truth, Six. So that you can make your own decision about me, about our relationship… And you can find the words and inspiration you need to leave me behind, and to move on to better things. To be with someone who deserves you.” 

And truth will set you free.

The thought sprung unbidden into Joshua's mind.

I don't feel free.

But perhaps... Perhaps, now, Six can.

Still, you sat in the sand, in shock at everything that had just left your partner, the man you love, and have loved happily for the months you’ve been together.

Where had it all come from?

One moment you’re making camp, waiting for Joshua to collect water, dusting off the fabric of your tent, laying out the bedrolls close enough to later rest in his embrace all through the night, and now he… what? Wants you to leave him?

What changed?

Joshua made a move to step away from you, to leave you kneeling there, alone, beside the river that had apparently inspired these harsh words that encouraged even harsher actions, but you would not stand for it.

You could not. 

“I won’t leave you, Joshua.” You got to your feet as he paused his steps, and he tilted his head towards you, to better hear your words. To hear the justification that he was sure would be well-meant, but ultimately, unfounded. 

“Why?” He whispered, and you got the sense that he was going to speak more, that he would continue monologuing until he convinced himself further that you do not belong with him, even when you know that, beyond all reason, you do.

“Because Joshua, because..." You took a breath as righteous words filled your mind, "'You are precious in my eyes, and honored, and… I love you.' That quote comes from the book of Isaiah. And it’s God speaking to Jacob, telling him that this is why men are worthy of him, and why, even if they’re not, they’re still deserving of unconditional love, even by one as divine and perfect as God.” 

Joshua’s eyes were the ones widening now, and his body turned so that he could face you fully once again. 

“Now, I’m not saying that I’m perfect, but… If God can stand to love you, if he can keep you here, after all you’ve been through, if he can promise you life, even after going through what should’ve meant your death tenfold, then can’t I do the same? Can’t I promise you a life with me, can’t I love and accept you for who you are, no matter what anyone else thinks?” 

Joshua’s light eyes were glistening as they fixed on the sand below him, and you couldn’t help but step forward to try and draw his attention back to you. 

I had to sit through your monologue of self-hatred. Now it’s your turn to listen to all the reasons your words were wrong.

I won’t have you tuning me out.

“After living a life so devoid of it, there’s no one I can think of who’s more worthy of love and compassion than you.” 

You placed both hands on either side of his face, gently urging his eyes to meet yours. 

“Everything you’ve done, Joshua… You’ve been made to pay for. Just as you said, it’s all written upon your body, but it’s here too.” You dragged one palm down to rest over his chest. It was warm to the touch, even through the layers of his bandages and clothes. 

“And here.” The fingers of your other hand brushed over his temple, then his forehead. 

“You’ve paid for it enough. With these horrible thoughts, these feelings of unworthiness plaguing you, every mark upon your skin, all the pain you feel every day. Trust me, my love, you've paid for it. Now… I think God and I both just want you to know peace.” 

Joshua’s hands rose to delicately collect yours, to pull them down in between your bodies. But he didn’t release them from his grasp this time, only held them there, embracing you as much as he could allow himself as his mind still swirled with turmoil. 

“But why?" He asked, "You don’t have to be with me. No one is requiring it of you; and with another, everything would be so much easier. You could be happy… Happier than I can make you.”

“Why you?” You almost laughed at him, it seemed so obvious within the confines of your own mind, the mind that was almost always occupied with thoughts of him only. “I love you, Joshua. I love how you speak to me, how you respect me and want me in your life. I love that I’m able to help you, but you… You’ve helped me more than I think you know.” 

“How?” His voice was so desperate for an answer, it was almost demanding.

“Ever since I woke up from that grave… I didn’t really have a purpose. I didn’t know who I was, didn’t have anyone in my life to turn to, I didn’t have a path... but you gave me one. With you, I could help people in ways I never imagined. You were always so sure of your own path, that it inspired me to be sure of it too. To become a part of your path.”

You could feel your hands shaking where he held them between you. Your whole body was trembling with insistence, begging him to take your words to heart.

Everything about this night that the two of you were sharing once pointed to normalcy. Making camp, divvying out duties, feeling the warmth of the fire against the cool desert air, hearing the wind sweep over the dunes of sand; it was like so many other nights spent with one another. You hadn’t expected to have this conversation, hadn’t thought you’d be fighting tooth and nail to get your partner to understand how deeply you cared for him, how much you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him, let alone ever consider it without his knowledge. But it was happening, and now this night was so much more important than all those others, because if you fail… It could be the end of all of this. This bliss that you’ve taken for granted. 

You’d survived without him for months before you ever met him, you could find happiness without Joshua, you knew that, but… With him, you didn’t have to look for happiness. With him, it surrounded you. 

“You have made my heart beat faster with a single glance of your eyes,” You said quietly, and even with the linen wraps covering Joshua's visage, you could see the way he softened at your words. “You made me love you more with every word you spoke. I can’t imagine who I’d be now without you, and I don’t want to.” 

Your hands tightened within his grasp, and you pulled his body closer to yours as your eyes stayed locked to his mesmerizing gaze.

 “Darling… in all my life, I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. Believe me.” 

You insisted, and then you leaned forward even further, and kissed him. 

The thin linen obstructed you a bit, but it didn’t matter. You could feel the heat of him through it, sense the shape of his lips as they moved against yours, as they relented to your touch, and to your words. As he let you love him. 

Joshua’s hands released yours, allowing you to press yourself closer to him as you felt his touch upon your hip, and around the nape of your neck. In the same movement, your arms smoothed over his chest to grasp at his shoulders. He took a deep breath in through his nose, as though he’d been devoid of oxygen until you pressed yourself to him, and you felt the warm puff of air pass through his bandages and caress your face as he exhaled. Subtly, you could taste him through the barrier, the sweetness of cactus fruit, and the tartness of the healing powder he mixed into the water he drank. You sighed into him at the familiarity of it all. His touch, his taste, his burning warmth that sometimes felt unnaturally hot. Enough so, even, that it could scar you in return. 

And though it never had, Joshua hadn’t ever left any physical blemishes upon your skin from his touch, from his love of you, you were certain that you hadn’t gone completely unmarked by him. Like the words he spoke, like the thoughts and actions he inspired, like the emotions that surrounded him in your mind, his mark was within you. And all of that, all of his influence, his own love for you in return, that you felt was as permanent as any scar left upon his own skin. 

“Thank you,” You felt Joshua whisper against you as you parted, but remained pressed to one another. “Thank you, Six, for all that you have given me. I… I still do not feel worthy of it, but, I will do what I can to change that. No matter how long it takes.” 

“Mm.” You hummed, a grin touching your lips as you pressed your forehead to his and closed your eyes, soaking in the simple feel of him. “And I’ll be right here. Right beside you, all the way.” 

You felt the outline of his own smile as Joshua leaned forward, and captured your lips with his once again.

Raul:

Raul ran a roughened hand over the smooth surface of the wood, a half smile plastered to his lips as he sampled his own work. He gave the record player console table a satisfied nod as he overlooked the polished wood and properly set needle. There weren’t too many records left standing after all was said and done with those bombs so long ago, but still, what he and Six could find, they could now enjoy, and quite stylishly, he’d say. 

You liked these ones, huh? He remembered his partner asking as they held up a pair of record sleeves in an old run down shop near the strip. Dean Martin and Perez Prado… Oh, Raul knew them alright. Then we’ll have to find a way to listen to it one day, won’t we? You could teach me how to mambo.

Though the thought made Raul chuckle at the time, the idea picked at his brain for days after, and this became his project. When Six told him they’d be gone for a few days, running some mission with Arcade, he’d taken that as his opportunity to finally finish it. 

A click of a door lock sounded behind him, and the ghoul turned in time to see his companion enter the room, their face lighting up, first, at the sight of him, and then that of the table and set of tools beside him.

“Hey! It’s so good to see– Oh. Oh my god. Raul, did you… Did you make this?” They stopped briefly beside him to slide a hand over his shoulder, but ultimately, passed him completely as they were taken by the sight of his handiwork. 

“Nah, boss.” He fibbed, “Some crows flew by and dropped it right out of the sky outside the casino. Think they were takin’ it to their nest.” 

Six looked back at him with scrunched brows, even as they kept one hand glued to the glossy surface of the table. 

“But the birds never came back for it. So, I figured it’d be fair game. Thought it looked nicer in here than on the curb, anyway.”

His companion walked forward with a smile, shoving him playfully with one arm. 

“What? You think I’m lying? They were big crows, boss. Guess they like music.” 

“Yeah, guess so.” They shook their head at him, and Raul couldn’t deny the grin that spread across his face, crinkling his dark eyes and making them shine with mirth. 

“It really is gorgeous though, Raul. You’re not just a handyman, you’re a craftsman. An artist. And you never told me.” The ghoul didn’t know really what to say to that, he’d never really thought of himself that way before. 

An artist, eh?

“This detail is just incredible.” Six continued to regard the piece of furniture with awe as they lay their head against his shoulder, and grasped one of his hands in theirs.

“It’s just a table, boss.”

“It is not.” They pulled away abruptly, looking him hard in the eye, “It’s a beautiful table. And a record player! Are you kidding me, Raul? This is amazing. You’re amazing.”

Something tightened in the ghoul’s chest at his partner’s insistence, but before he could respond to them properly, they were pulling away, turning back to the table with intent. 

“Now, let’s hear how she sounds, shall we?” 

Six knelt to inspect the full shelf below the record player, stuffed with the vinyls they had both collected, but never had the chance to play. 

“It’s really no big deal.” Raul insisted, still hung up on his partner’s generous praise. “You were gone for a whole week, mi amado, I had time, that’s all.” 

Their hand floated by the albums slowly as they inspected the titles, finally pausing when they reached that first one they had found all those months ago, and they pulled it free. Six turned back to him as they slid the record from its sleeve and prepared to play it. 

“Even if I had a hundred years I could never make something like this.”

“But I had two hundred. Remember? I've been around a long time.” Six rolled their eyes at that, and though their grin persisted, there was more than just amusement at the root of their expression. 

“Whatever, even two hundred, and I could never do something even close to this. You’re incredible.” 

“You said that already, boss.” 

Before they could drop the needle down onto the record, they turned to face their partner, a prevalent fire blazing in their irises that Raul couldn’t fail to notice, even from the other side of the room. 

“Well, I mean it! You are. And not just at this. You don’t give yourself enough credit, Raul." 

The ghoul's smile perked up at that, and suddenly he wanted to move, to reach out to his partner and show them his appreciation for their words, but something kept him rooted where he was standing. There was a tightness in his chest that seemed to hold him in place. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him this way, even if it was with so much aggression. 

“I’m not your partner because of your handiwork, you know." They stepped towards him as they spoke, only halting when they were at a point where they could wrap their arms up and around his shoulders to meet his gaze properly.

"I’m with you because I love being around you. You make me so happy, I couldn’t imagine not having you in my life. Even just this one week apart made me realize how much I love being with you, even when we just walk beside each other, when we just talk. The things you say…" One hand came up to stroke over Raul's cheek, their thumb running smoothly over his roughened skin.

"You always make me laugh, or blush, and the way you look at me… Don’t you notice when I look at you too?” 

“No I… I guess I never did." He stuttered, "I didn’t think…” 

I didn’t think anyone could ever look at me the way I look at you.

“I don’t know, amor.” He said, resignation plain on his face as the words left him with a sigh.

“Well, then I guess I need to make it more obvious.” Six smirked, and Raul felt a rush of heat wash over him, even as his partner backed away from him, back to the table. To his surprise, they didn’t reach for the needle of the record player, but for the flat bit of the table beside it. 

“So, this part? What’s this for?” They asked as they ran a hand over the smooth wood.

“‘S just the table part." He shrugged, "Could put your drinks on it, or something, no sé.” 

Raul rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, feeling as though he just got whiplash.

How can they just say all that? An' then go back to this? To the table? Ay, ellos me vuelven loco.

Six considered the surface further, reaching both hands to press down on it firmly. Raul narrowed his eyes.

“Drinks’r not normally that heavy, Six.” 

“I wasn’t thinking about drinks… Why don’t you come here?”

With the way their voice dropped at their request, Six didn’t need to ask him twice. Raul took the few steps forwards as his partner hopped up onto the table, their legs dangling down and feet grazing the floor as they leaned forward. 

Raul kept moving towards them, filling the space between their opened legs with his hips as their arms slid over his chest, clasping tightly around the back of his neck.

“Think it’ll hold me?” They whispered with a smile and a raised brow, their firm hold only pulling him closer with the barest hint of pressure.

“Hmm… Depends.” He whispered, as he relented, leaning in close.

“On?”

“On how much we do.” Raul practically growled as he lost himself in his partner’s alluring gaze, their want for him seeping through every brush of their lips against his, the truth in their words of praise evident in the way their hands grazed over the nape of his neck, over his chest, tugging impatiently at the fabric of his jumpsuit; and in their eyes, closed tightly in pleasure and bliss, and opening only to look at him in a way he’s never been looked at before.

#fallout #fallout companions #fallout companions reacts #fallout companions react #fallout companions reactions #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions reacts #fallout 4 companions reactions #fo4 #fallout 3 #fallout 3 companions #fallout 3 companions reacts #fallout new vegas #fonv #fallout new vegas companions #fallout nv #fnv #fo3 charon #charon #fallout 3 charon #john hancock #hancock fo4 #gob fo3 #fo3 #gob fallout 3 #fo4 gage #porter gage #fallout gage #raul tejada

[amazinglyegg]

hi!! i want to say i love ur blog sm. its amazing and one of my fav blogs.

i have a hc where sole picks up children’s toys, teddy bears, jangles the moon monkey, and giddy up buttercups while walking thru the wasteland looking for shaun. could u write a react for fo4 companions asking why they pick up “that junk” vs their reactions after finding out the reason why?

Thank you so much!! And this is the most adorable headcanon ever, I love it <3<3<3 I can only imagine how hard it'd be for Sole to constantly see all the toys they was planning to get Shaun for Christmas all broken down and rusted. Plus not even knowing if he's alive or if he would like any of them anymore... augh my heart </3

Companions react: Sole who collects toys for Shaun

Ada

She doesn't even bat an eye when Sole goes around picking up every toy they see

Sole probably only tells her the truth once they overhear Ada calling it scrap

After that Ada will make very sure she doesn't scrap any toys she finds and instead leaves them in a nice pile for Sole to sort through and keep any they want

Might even find it hard to scrap the toys Sole doesn't want (because they're too broken or unsalvagable)

She definitely gets wanting to keep something to remember someone by, and seeing Sole do this might just convince her to keep a transitional object that reminds her of Jackson

Cait

Cait immediately feels like crap for complaining so much

Not only because she kept complaining about Sole's habit, but she had definitely made comments on how dumb and boring the toys are in the past

She doesn't really get it since she's not a parent (and never wants to be), but she still feels like she should have realized it sooner

It also hits a bit close to home for her because she never really had many toys as a kid, so realizing Sole cares about Shaun so much they're constantly looking for trinkets for him is almost unreal to her

She'll probably not say much about it for that reason, too awkward and vaguely in disbelief that parents actually do that for their kids for her to make any comments

Codsworth

Oh he is SO supportive of Sole

Even before Sole tells him they're for Shaun he's pointing out how much Shaun would love them

Probably has Sole's Christmas list for Shaun still stored in his memory (because let's be honest Sole was definitely obsessing over their baby's first Christmas back in October) so he'll point out whenever they find a toy that was on the list

He'll probably go out of his way to grab any toys he sees for Shaun as well

Shaun's bedroom is going to be PACKED with toys before he even gets out of the Institute

Curie

Definitely more curious than frusturated with Sole picking up toys

Might push Sole too hard for an answer at first, but realizes her mistake and apologizes when Sole tells her the truth

I can imagine her having wildly different reactions on it, especially while she's getting used to emotions

One day she's going "but Shaun already has three blankets, no?" and the next day she's crying at the sight of a broken teddy bear

Grief is such a big emotion for Curie and she's so empathetic she's 100% going to be more weepy than Sole is a lot of the time

Danse

Sort of stuck when Sole tells him why they collect toys

On one hand it's his job to tell Sole to drop down the unnecessary stuff and travel light... but on the other hand... they're grieving

So as much as he wants to complain, he probably won't

He gets this is Sole's way of coping and whatnot but he's never been too good at empathy in general, so he won't really know what to say

He definitely won't bother Sole about it, but he will also just kinda ignore it

If him and Sole are close he might (rarely) bring them a toy in good condition he found (he's a scavenger at heart, of course he'll be looking for those things)

Deacon

Probably one of the most initially annoyed companions in this list

He hates kids and everything to do with them so before finding out he'd make plenty of half-jokes half-complaining jabs at how much the kids toys suck

Every time Sole picked up another toy Deacon's saying "Why did they have to make that face so weird?" "Did kids really play with this crap?" "If Santa got me THAT as a gift Christmas would be ruined forever!"

But once Sole tells him the truth he feels like a major asshole

He's another emotionally stunted man who won't know what to say!

He'll mostly ignore it and look the other way, but he'll also sometimes offer to carry the toys for Sole if their pack is too full

It's the least he can do after being so rude to them

Father

He definitely felt Something when Sole told him that fact (sympathy?? Longing?? Who knows)

The fact that he never left Sole's thoughts even while they were struggling to survive in the wastes means a lot to him (he has parent issues okay?)

Gets a bit weirded out if they still insist on gathering toys and giving them to synth Shaun

Like... he's a robot... he doesn't play with toys... why are you grieving me when I'm right here (he's also very emotionally stunted. Unsurprisingly)

Generally not too empathetic about it, and will definitely comment on it if Sole tries bringing dirty/broken toys into the Institute

Gage

Least likely to back down and apologize like the other companions after Sole admits the truth

Probably takes the realist approach of "There's toys everywhere... why can't you just wait until you actually find Shaun and then bring him to an old toy store or something?"

Will be a lot easier on them once he knows the truth though

It's just weird when they're surrounded by toys everywhere. They're literally in an amusement park. Can't Sole just bring Shaun there once they get him??

He's also a bit worried about Sole seeming like a softie, or trying to leave Nuka World once they get their kid back

A toy car or a deck of cards is fine, but you are NOT parading a five foot tall teddy bear around Nuka World. Gage will put his foot down for that one

Hancock

He'll probably only get annoyed with Sole's collection if it manages to get in the way of their work

He has always found childrens toys creepy... he's pretty thankful not many kids wander around Goodneighbor for that reason

Once he finds out the truth his demeanor will change from mild annoyance to "you know what? You do you"

He'll probably find an old tire or something and go "You think Shaun would like this??"

He doesn't know what kids like!! Especially old world kids. When he was a kid he would have been entertained for HOURS with just a stick... why wouldn't Shaun??

Either way, he lets Sole go do whatever they want to do. He won't judge as long as he doesn't have to look at Jangles for any longer than necessary

Maccready

Feels like a complete asshole for not connecting it together sooner

Childrens toys, missing child... how did he not SEE that

Hell, HE grabs little toys for Duncan every once in a while. Obviously he can't judge

He might be a tiny bit salty though

He's had to teach himself to not pick up every toy he thinks Duncan would want because he simply can't send them all to him, so seeing Sole constantly fawn over plushies and trinkets... just kinda hurts knowing he can't do the same at the moment

That being said if he finds something he wants to give to Duncan but can't, he'll give it to Sole instead

Ends up being a pretty good system for them both

Nick Valentine

Out of all of the companions he'd be best at emotional support

He'll sincerely apologizes for bugging Sole about the "junk" they've been lugging around and will reassure them that Shaun would love it

He still remembers which toys were popular at the time and will talk to Sole about it whenever they find one

Catch him and Sole repeating commercial jingles back and forth

He gives them a lot of space to grieve and never complains about all the toys once he finds out who they're for

He doesn't shy away from gently putting his foot down if Sole gets a bit ridiculous, but he does so very, very gently

Like "Hey, that teddy is in tatters. How about we find one that's a bit more... huggable?" or "Shaun doesn't need two Giddyup Buttercups, but if you're okay for it I know a little girl in Diamond City who's been begging for one all year"

Old Longfellow

Aw hell, why not?

Definitely empathizes with them

He feels bad for Sole once he learns the truth so he's perfectly happy to just shut up and let Sole do whatever they need to do to grieve

He's also not really a toy person so he doesn't get it

Like "you think your kid would like THAT??"

But whatever. Sole knows their own kid better than he knows them. If Shaun gets traumatized by seeing Jangles the moon monkey, that's Sole's fault

Piper

Likely to take an "aww, that's sweet" approach to things

Similar to Hancock in that she... doesn't really get it??

Like who needs all these old toys most people don't know how to play with?? Nat played with a rock and a loose piece of string when she was little and she was just fine

Tries to show enthusiasm but ends up going wayy off the mark

She grabs a Barbie doll and says "wouldn't Shaun like this?? He can... I don't know... brush her hair??"

"Shaun would love this!" "Piper that's a mechanical keyboard... with no computer" "Well maybe Shaun would like pretending to write stories!"

Preston

Straight up apologizes for being so harsh to Sole

He didn't need to be so rude about Sole picking up toys. It's their backpack, they can fill it with whatever they want

Appreciates what Sole's doing and will make sure the kids in any settlements don't touch Shaun's toys

He's pretty curious what a lot of toys actually do. He'll ask Sole things like "so do kids... just... sit on the Giddyup Buttercup? And do nothing else??"

Will offer to carry some toys or have caravans bring them back to settlements if they're too much for Sole to carry

X6-88

(assuming Sole's either keeping the toys for themself or wants to give them to synth!Shaun)

Doesn't get it

Father is right there?? Why are you grieving his childhood and focusing on a synth instead of being proud of his achievements??

Going into headcanon territory here but I assume the Institute probably makes toys for (the scientist's) kids to play with already

Not to mention the Institute is pretty anti-clutter, and Shaun doesn't "need" toys to begin with

He just can't wrap his head around why Sole feels the need to hoard a bunch of old broken toys when good ones are in the Institute already

If Sole just insists on keeping the toys in the old nursery he'll be a bit annoyed but won't show it (gotta respect the future director and all)

#its been a hot minute since ive made one of these and ive MISSED IT <3 #i hope none of the characters are too ooc??? #fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #companions react #ada #cait #codsworth #curie #paladin danse #deacon #father #porter gage #john hancock #maccready #nick valentine #old longfellow #piper wright #preston garvey #x6 88 #synth shaun #sole survivor

[fallout-friends-react]

If you haven't done it already, how would the fallout 3 guys act around a lone wanderer that he has caught feelings for and what is his initial reaction to realizing that he HAS caught feelings for the lone wanderer?

This specifically says guys but I'm doin' everyone lol

Butch: It started as really small things. The way Lone looked by the campfire light. Hearing their voice call his name. When they worried about him after a fight. All these things made him feel.. something. He was never quite sure what that feeling was. Until one day, Butch sat against a wall, catching his breath after a long day of walking. With no warning, Lone crouched in front of him, "dude your hair's all messed up." They started fixing his hair for him. The closeness made his heart lurch. He instinctively threw his head back, smacking it against the wall. "Holy shit are you okay??!" Lone worried. "Yeah I'm fine. Whatever." Butch held his head in his hands. Thankfully they couldn't see his beet red face.

Clover: Clover has always liked Lone, from the second they got her out of Eulogy's grip. Her affinity for them wasn't much of a secret either. She loved to hang on them, and flirt with them whenever she could. The longer they traveled together, the more she really started to care for them. The moment she knew she really liked Lone, was when they pointed to an old pre-war dress and told her it would look good on her. She doubled down on her physical touch and flirting, to the point that it started to get annoying.

Charon: Charon and Lone's relationship was complicated. They held onto his contract after all. He was bound to them whether he liked it or not. They were never unkind to him though, and he never took it for granted. On a routine visit to Underworld, Lone was busy in the general store. Charon, waiting outside, was asked by a resident how Lone was treating him. Thinking over his memories of them, he realized just how much they meant to him. With an imperceivable smile on his face, he replied simply, "they treat me well."

Dogmeat: idk why I keep adding the dogs at this point lol

Jericho: Being the cold, hardened old man that he was, Jericho didn't feel many girly emotions. (as he would put it) LIKING someone has been outside of his realm of possibilities for decades. He would never admit it, but he developed a soft spot for Lone. Going out of his way to make sure they stayed healthy. He'd often cuss them out for doing stupid things that could've gotten them hurt. It didn't seem like it, but it was how he showed he cared.

Fawkes: Fawkes would never call his feelings for Lone romantic, though he definitely cared for them. They saved him from his confines. They were possibly the only person willing to have a civil conversation with him. He often mentally cursed at himself for not being able to do much for them, other than protect them from harm. He didn't know how important that one thing was.

Star Paladin Cross: Cross has known Lone since they were an infant, sort of. Romance between them never crossed her mind, but she certainly loved them in a way. She was especially protective of them. Always sure to check if they were wounded after a fight. Always making sure they were eating and sleeping well. Though sometimes it was a little overbearing.

#this is tough bc I can't imagine half of these mfs being giddy abt MC lol #Hope ur not disappointed :') #fallout #fallout 3 #fallout companions react #butch deloria #clover #charon #dogmeat #jericho #fawkes #star paladin cross

[thewastelandwriter]

Hello friends! I just wanted to pop in and let you guys know that I’m deleting Tumblr (TEMPORARILY) in order to avoid spoilers for Baldurs Gate 3! I’ll reinstall the app and post some things once I’ve finished the game! I love you all, thank you!

#fallout #fallout 4 #dishonored #dragon age #apex legends #companions react #baldur's gate 3

[profligate-whore]

Any hcs about Papa Khan or the Khans in general?

Honestly I don't really have any for Papa Khan or the Khans as a whole. I needed a moment to sit and think lol

Papa Khan Headcanons

Despite his harsh demeanor, he is softie at heart.

He would genuinely do anything for his tribe, he feels guilty when someone gets hurt and he wasn't there to prevent it. He is a deeply caring man.

He's in his late 50s

He's not very smart, his intelligence stat is a 3

He respects bravery and loyalty beyond all else. He doesn't like cowards

He takes traditions very seriously and the tribe often participates in pre-war ceremonies for good luck

The Khans are still looking for a permeant place to set up camp. Perhaps they'll go to Idaho or a Legion controlled area. As long as they're away from the NCR they'll be mostly happy

In order to join the Khans, one must go through a very harsh initiation process. Only the strong are accepted into the tribe

Due to their current location and minimal access to food or water, I'd imagine some of the Khans have issues with malnutrition and dehydration

Scars tell the story of one's bravery and how they overcame a great challenge. Those with scars are never seen as weak

The most worthy warriors make armor out of charred bones of those they've killed.

If the Khans are so concerned about their dwindling numbers they should probably put a limit on drug use... Lots of Khans have probably overdosed and died.

#new vegas #fallout 4 #fallout fanfic #arcade gannon #fallout #fallout new vegas #caesar’s legion #craig boone #fallout companions react #joshua graham #fallout 3 #fallout fanart #fallout nv #new california republic #great khans #fallout fandom

[nightingaelic]

Fo3 companion reacts to the East Coast Brotherhood growing more xenophobic and militarized under Arthur Maxson?

Goddammit Arthur, why couldn't you be a well-written character, why do I have to do everything myself around here

TW: Sexual content, misogynistic language, death

Things changed, after the super mutant uprising was quelled. Once Vault 87 had been destroyed and the FEV monstrosities cut off at the source, the Brotherhood of Steel began to fill the gaps in its ranks. The chapter already had a pile of Enclave tech and manufacturing equipment to fuel a regime, and once it opened its doors to Initiates, the ranks grew. Many a wastelander was drawn to the promise of gear, of training, of three square meals a day and a bed to sleep in. People clamored to get the attention of Scribes and Knights at recruiting calls, and the hordes of other would-be soldiers only made life in the Brotherhood seem more appealing.

Looking back, it was hard to say where it all began. Plenty of fingers were pointed at the new Elder, his decisions to forgive the Outcasts and their rhetoric, to focus on skill and might, to spread the chapter's protection and influence as far as he could. There was merit in those accusations, just as there was wisdom in the words of those who knew the Brotherhood before they came east - a Brotherhood that hid in bunkers, that was born out of disgust for a nation's betrayal, that trusted no one and feared otherness. Some blamed the competition that arose as people tried to join this new iteration, the selectivity that the East Coast Brotherhood adopted in order to choose its next members, and some blamed the chapter's growth itself and the necessary seizures of land, food, water, and control from those too weak to resist. There were plenty of answers to the question of why the Brotherhood changed, but only one thing could be agreed upon: If there were people in power armor or orange flight suits around, you kept your speculations quiet.

Star Paladin Cross: As one of the few soldiers in the Brotherhood who only answered to the Elder and was therefore left alone by those in the lower ranks, Star Paladin Cross counted herself lucky. Internal politics had never been her strong suit. She had respected Elder Owyn Lyons' decisions, challenging as they were to the Codex, and she had followed Elder Sarah Lyons into battle up until the girl's bitter end. Elder Arthur Maxson was young and ambitious, and it did not surprise Cross to see him surround himself with those of a similar build. She knew that wasn't her, and it didn't bother her. Initially.

Ambition when left unchecked grew into arrogance and greed, Cross realized too late. Not catching it in Maxson sooner became her largest regret. The citizens of the Capital Wasteland began to twist, in the eyes of the Brotherhood officers. They became resources, pawns. How many men could they muster from Megaton, to replace the troops they had lost attacking raiders in the north? Could the Aqua Pura trade routes be bent, leveraged, in order to make the western razorgrain farmers comply with patrols? How many more parts could they strip from Rivet City's mechanical levels to outfit the airship that was sitting on the tarmac at Adams Air Force Base?

"We are a machine," Maxson said to Cross, when she finally approached him about her concerns. "Efficient, precise, constructed with purpose. We are the endurance of humanity, the best hope they have of surviving. We protect them from themselves, and we pave the way forward."

"A machine cannot grow," Cross countered. "It can endure, but it cannot shift its gears or reshape its components. It cannot fathom a use for parts from other machines, it can only use that which it was built to use. The humanity of today is not the humanity of yesterday."

And though he heard her out, though he thanked her for her wisdom, Cross knew that Maxson hadn't really understood. He couldn't grasp the meaning she was trying to impart: He was the machine, and this was the purpose he had been built for.

Perhaps Maxson was beyond her reach, Cross decided, but as she looked out over the yard in the Citadel and the drills being run at Adams Air Force Base, she saw others like him. New recruits, youthful and eager to find their place within the Brotherhood of Steel, looking for guidance. When she walked among them, their eyes turned to her in curiosity, in respect, in awe. Cross ended her pursuits outside the Capital Wasteland and took a personal interest in the training of the Initiates. She observed the Paladins as they outfitted their squads with power armor, listened to the Scribes instructing classes on the Codex, watched the Lancers as they moved from flight simulation pods to the reality of a humming vertibird, and she intervened wherever she saw absolutism, essentialism, or anyone demanding that the Initiates set aside their old lives entirely.

Was it enough? Cross didn't know. Maxson continued to reach beyond himself, and his people lauded him even as they stepped over the common wastelanders on their way to glory. She knew she couldn't change the chapter's trajectory entirely, or abandon the cause she had sworn long ago to uphold. But if she could convince the newest of the Brotherhood to look carefully as they stepped, remind them to see themselves in the eyes of those they pushed past, perhaps the resulting future would be kinder than if she hadn't bothered.

Butch DeLoria: Life in Rivet City went on despite the growing tensions in the Capital Wasteland, and Butch happily swapped sides of the issue depending on who was in his barbershop chair. He picked up all sorts of stories from the wastelanders who came through - heroic, horrifying, harebrained, take your pick - and tossed most of them in the trash as unbelievable. Judging by the hack jobs he saw on the occasional Brotherhood soldier that sat down in front of him, they weren't quite so powerful that they could manage to snare a decent hairdresser for their troops.

That summer though, the metal hallways of the decaying aircraft carrier grew unbearably hot. The Capital Wasteland sun had never been particularly kind to the ship's residents, but the maintenance team usually kept the heat on the lower levels at bay through a well-worn system of ventilation shafts, fans, and fusion-powered climate conditioners. When Butch woke up one morning sweaty and irritable, he went straight to Henry Young to complain, but the handyman was just as angry as him.

"It's the main compressor," Henry explained, waving a wrench around to punctuate his words. "The damn thing's gone. I've got CJ and Bryan looking everywhere for a replacement, but you just can't find parts like that anymore."

"Well who took it?" Butch demanded to know.

Henry sighed. "I've got the only key to the section, and no one's been sniffing around it since we let that bunch of Scribe types come look at our fusion plant."

The gaggle of Scribes in question was still in town, laughing and sharing cold drinks by Gary's Galley. Butch ignored their conversation and stalked right up to the one in the center, who looked like he was in charge of the squad. "You. Any particular reason why you turned the heat up in here? Give us our shit back, or everyone is gonna boil."

The conversation died quickly, and the Scribe held up his hands. "Like mirelurk hatchlings in a pot," he agreed. "We were having the same problem on the Prydwen. All fixed, now."

"Swell." Butch seized the Scribe by his collar. "And what about us?"

The rest of the Scribes were reaching for their laser pistols, but their leader stopped them. He looked up at Butch with a mix of pity and disdain. "Give it up, greaser. You're not getting it back. It's Brotherhood property now, like this whole damn ship."

Butch knew when he was outnumbered, but his retreat still felt shameful. Through his remaining connections to Vault 101 he was able to get Henry the part he needed, but it took a few sweltering weeks before the lone wanderer walked in the door holding the new compressor. Butch could've kissed them, but instead he tossed his shaving towel aside and eyed them knowingly. "You doing something about them?" he asked.

They nodded. "What I can. Could use your help, though. One vault dweller's enough to give the Brotherhood trouble. Two might just be too much for them."

Clover: Super mutants weren't the only recipient of the growing Brotherhood chapter's ire, and the raiders of the Capital Wasteland learned pretty quickly that they were no match for the larger, more well-equipped gang. Paradise Falls was one of the last raider settlements to hold out, but even that historic hub of DC's slave trade was rather empty on the day the Brotherhood of Steel came calling.

Eulogy Jones died as he lived, trying to sing a sweet song of persuasion through a sour smile. The Brotherhood Knight with the minigun wasn't in the mood though, and the slaver's guts made a nice painting against the back wall of his pad. Crimson burst into tears and threw herself onto the floor, wailing, but Clover eyed her would-be savior with mild interest. "You got a name, lover?"

The Knight ignored her and gestured to a Scribe behind him. Clover hissed as the woman drew close, but she fell silent once her slave collar began to come apart, piece by piece. When the Scribe was finished, Clover took a step back and rubbed her newly-exposed neck. "What... what am I supposed to do now?"

"Not our problem," the power-armored Knight replied, annoyed.

Clover knew how to take care of herself. She slunk through the blasted gates of the slaving hub as soon as she was able, melted into the blur of the wasteland and tried to fathom a new purpose. She burned her bloodstained pink dress, swapped it out for wool and leather, crouched under corrugated steel scraps and wished for rain to wet the lump in her throat. She wandered through settlements like a woman possessed, glaring at anyone who came too close and lusting after the meager produce that merchants laid out for sale. She didn't expect it to be free - nothing was ever free - but the price was always too high. Caps. Information. A smile, or a convincing touch. Caps were hard to come by and all of Clover's local knowledge was out of date, but the latter two were familiar requests. Though she struggled with the idea of offering herself as a commodity after all the shit she had been through, the hunger in Clover's stomach and the dull reassurance that at least she was the one in control of her own commodification won out.

By the time she made it to Rivet City, Clover had strings of caps jingling around her waist and neck. One of the first men who snagged her for a few hours was an off-duty Knight-Captain, rough and eager but arrogant as a brahmin bull. No matter how she tried to shut him up, he wouldn't stop waxing poetic about the great battles he'd fought in, the wasteland insects he had squashed. "Grayditch, Evergreen Mills, Paradise Falls... I was there," he assured her. "Goddamn raiders didn't know what hit 'em. We'll wipe 'em all out, you'll see."

"What about the slaves?" Clover asked as she climbed on top of him. "What do you do with them, after you kill the bosses?"

The Knight-Captain made a face. "Nothing. We freed them, didn't we? I'm not paying you to talk, whore."

The resident robot Mister Buckingham found the gentleman still in bed the next morning, with his throat slit. The woman he'd been entertaining was nowhere to be found, though the Brotherhood of Steel conducted a full sweep of the ship and put out a call for information. Stories eventually trickled aboard the aircraft carrier about a new valkyrie who was wreaking havoc in the name of the Abolitionists and slaves all across the Capital Wasteland, but no one ever made the connection to the woman who'd vanished.

Sergeant RL-3: Change was afoot in the Brotherhood of Steel for sure, but from where Sergeant RL-3 was stationed, it was slow to leave the main DC ruins. The stalwart Mister Gutsy model had dutifully protected the settlement of Canterbury Commons since its last partner had dropped it off, joining Dominic and Machete on their daily rounds and cooking any unwelcome visitors with plasma blasts and flames.

The settlement's newfound security after the superhero debacle brought an uptick in interest from the local caravans. What started as a few brahmin and wares spread over the grass turned into a circle of dedicated vending stalls, then a bustling marketplace that drew in shoppers, workers, scavengers, guards, and most importantly, attention. By the time the water caravans and the basin's purification processes made their way north, it was a cherry on top of the booming business that Canterbury Commons was already enjoying. New houses were going up, farmers were staking out plots of land, and the town had notoriety throughout the ruins as the place to be.

It was a reminder of America past for Sergeant RL-3 to see individuals in power armor stomping around the marketplace, participating in the great game of capitalism and holding down the home front. Rushing into combat alongside them was even more invigorating for the old war-bot, and something akin to nostalgia flickered along its circuitry whenever a Knight filled attacking enemies with lead. It began to salute every Brotherhood soldier it encountered, and they started to treat it as a sort of town mascot, happily waving to the bot and saluting back whenever they arrived with water shipments or left for missions. The fact that the rest of the guards around town didn't have the same rapport with the Brotherhood visitors was merely a mark of how dedicated it was in its position, compared to them.

Jericho: From his comfortable retirement in Megaton, Jericho had all the time in the world to drink and grumble about what the Brotherhood's growing influence was doing to the Capital Wasteland. His complaints drove off what few people still gave him the time of day in the saloon, and eventually Gob and Nova had to tell him to stop scaring new customers.

"Boot-lickers," Jericho sneered on the day he heard about Paradise Falls' occupation, when Gob cut him off for the night yet again. "You're happy to let those fucking tin cans walk all over you."

"Brahmin shit," Nova spat. "If they walked into town right this second, I wouldn't serve them. They'd shoot Gob and tell me to suck their dicks for a discount. But that doesn't mean they're not making the roads safer for travelers, and it doesn't mean you're not being an asshole, Jericho."

"Fucking hell." Jericho kicked over the stool he'd been sitting on and headed for the door. "Can't wait to lose your freedom, can you? Moriarty's got to be spinning in his grave. Wouldn't even need to put a collar on you two, you'd roll right over for Elder Maxson and his fucking gang!"

Nova grabbed one of his empties off the bar and threw it at him. She missed, but the bottle shattered spectacularly against the wall. "Get the fuck out, Jericho! And don't come back!"

Jericho muttered angrily to himself as he stumbled home, where he collapsed in bed and sank into a restless sleep. He awoke again around mid-day, bleary-eyed but filled with new purpose. He strapped on his armor, cleaned and loaded his gun, and headed for the main gates. There he waited until Doc Hoff's caravan rolled in, right on schedule.

"Hoff!" he said with a grin, once he'd located the chems dealer. "How's business? Still looping up through Evergreen Mills?"

"Not since the super mutant uprising wiped it off the map," the good doctor replied suspiciously. "What do you want, Jericho?"

Jericho made a face. "A job. You look a little short on guards, these days. Been running into trouble out there?"

"Trouble? Nah. But I can't compete with what the Brotherhood's offering." Hoff shook his head. "Aren't you retired? Why give that up?"

"Got a vested interest in getting the local Knights hooked on your product." Jericho shifted his rifle to rest on his shoulder. "There's too many of them for me to shoot, but I know what that shit did to the chain of command when I was still running around with raiders. I'd like to see that happen here. Give the Brotherhood a good kick in the teeth. What do you think?"

"I think you're a few pills short of a prescription," Hoff replied, rolling his eyes. "But if you've got a way to sell chems to the people in power armor, I'm listening. My customer base has been shrinking lately."

"Ah, don't worry, doc." Jericho smiled. "Send come caps my way, and I'll make it worth your while. I can be real sweet when I want to be."

Fawkes: Of course, Fawkes only heard about the Brotherhood's trajectory secondhand, from travelers he encountered that had recently been in the Capital Wasteland. Even before the Brotherhood's victory against Shephard's uprising, being a super mutant around DC was hazardous for one's health. Now, with the Brotherhood being what they were, it was a guaranteed death sentence. Packing his few belongings and bidding goodbye to his friends in Underworld had been one of the hardest things he had ever done, but it was the safest thing he could do, for him and the ghouls.

Fawkes went northeast, following the coast and the maps on the Pip-Boy that he and the lone wanderer had found during their escape from Vault 87, all the way to Baltimore. It wasn't far enough away from the Brotherhood of Steel for him to feel completely safe, but it was the home of the great Hopkins Hospital and its magnificent cathedral of medical books. From the look of things, Baltimore had seen fewer nuclear blasts than DC had, but the monument in the brick square and the church spires across the street from his destination had been knocked over all the same. Hopkins Hospital's great repository of knowledge had been evacuated in haste, and what was left on its tall, ornate shelves was in disarray and heavily water-damaged. He hadn't meant for it to be a permanent stop on his trip, but as Fawkes stood in the center of the atrium, surrounded on all sides by six stories of bookshelves and the broken glass from the skylights above, something in his heart crossed its arms and refused to budge. His journey could wait. This library could not.

When the local raiders finally learned to leave him alone, Fawkes settled into his new role as the library's caretaker. He swept up the broken glass, dead leaves, and animal bones from the floor and put loose tiles back in place. He stacked what books were left on the lowest level's shelves, then organized them by author. He hunted down the mole rats in the basement and found some local traders that didn't seem to mind his appearance, or were at least willing to swap building materials for mole rat meat. He hammered new boards over the broken stairs, took intact panes of glass from nearby high rises and fitted them into the library's skylights as best he could, started a tato garden under the statue of Marquis de Lafayette in the middle of the boulevard - and in his spare time, he read.

The people that were left in Baltimore didn't spend much time downtown, but the Hopkins Hospital Library began to work its way into the stories of caravanners who came through the area. You could find refuge there for a while, even if the librarian was one of those creatures that people whispered about, and he would trade tatoes and caps for books to add to his shelves. Fawkes started to see more and more trade routes bend toward the library, and even a few travelers that set out to find him solely because of the books he cared for. It warmed him to see that knowledge was still valued in this crumbled world, even if seeking it out was a perilous thing. He only wished he could share that knowledge with his friends from Underworld, but given the news that kept finding its way to him, it had been the right decision to leave when he did.

The first of the Underworld refugees found their way to the library by accident, on the run from a pack of mongrels that had chased them off their route around the downtown area. Fawkes didn't realize they'd come from the Capital Wasteland until he began to patch them up, using what knowledge he'd learned about dog bites to clean and dress the wounds of their guide. After hearing of Underworld's plight, he sent the guide back to DC with instructions and a promise: Room for any who sought it, for as long as they wanted it.

Tulip brought the next group, and she laughed with joy when Fawkes lifted her clear off the ground in a bear hug. Relations with the Brotherhood were worsening, but Underworld had plans, and more were on their way. Bit by bit, familiar faces began to trickle into the Hopkins Hospital Library, and Fawkes barely had time to bask in the awe on their faces with how busy he was building beds, cleaning rooms, and restocking his supply shelves to accommodate the refugees. Most of his guests moved on eventually, looking for some place a little safer than downtown Baltimore, but enough stayed to start building fences around the city block and tending the vegetables alongside him. They respected the work he had done, added their own talents to caring for his home, and when the sun went down at night, there was singing in the atrium under the stars.

Dogmeat: All of this was beyond Dogmeat, of course, but the loyal canine could tell that something was weighing his companion down. Their step was lighter whenever they entered Arlington now, more careful and measured, and their words to any new people were vague and short. They were still recognized most everywhere, pulled aside and thanked for their role in purifying the water table, but they increasingly looked as though they weren't sure whether they had done the right thing.

The pair were halfway across the Potomac, on their way to Rivet City, when the lone wanderer suddenly stopped in the middle of the bridge to stare at the Jefferson Memorial. Water was pouring from the pipes below the rotunda, cycling out the radiation and spilling life back into the wasteland. Moss and hanging plants were starting to climb around the edge of the spouts, unmistakable pops of green against the brown water that promised new hope for a struggling world. The water thundered into the river below, an unstoppable force that muffled any noise within a mile of the site.

The lone wanderer's eyes slid up, to the orange flag with a white insignia of gears and a winged sword that flapped above the memorial. Their shoulders sank. On the wind, Dogmeat could smell their regrets as surely as the purified water.

Slowly, the lone wanderer sank to the concrete and put their head in their hands. "Dad didn't want this. He can't have. I don't want this. What am I supposed to do, now?"

Dogmeat whined and moved in close to lick their face. They tried to push him away at first, but the mutt wouldn't let up. The two stayed there until the lone wanderer had exhausted their frustration and the sting of salt had left their cheeks.

Charon: Underworld persisted, as it had throughout the spread of super mutants into DC, the Brotherhood's arrival, and the inevitable clash between the two groups. As the Brotherhood pushed the super mutants back, they scattered into the safety of the Mall, where dark corners to retreat to were plentiful and maneuvers in power armor were difficult. The dark corners of Underworld looked enticing enough for a few super mutants to try to force their way in, but Charon, Willow, and Cerberus beat them back from the Museum of History each time. "They never used to be like this," Willow commented after one particularly gruesome clash.

"They're desperate," Charon replied, with uncharacteristic candor. "Soon enough, that'll be us."

Underworld's population had seen an increase as of late, mostly folks who had been displaced by the Brotherhood around the Capital Wasteland. Carol and Greta had their hands full with the number of refugees that had packed up their belongings and come to the Mall, hoping for a safe place away from the miniguns and Gatling lasers of the power-armored regime that saw them as sub-human. There weren't enough beds, there were barely enough supplies, and what few trade routes still came toward Underworld were on edge thanks to the fighting in the ruins and the knowledge that they were risking their businesses for dealing with mutants. Sydney and Emaline had taken over the Ninth Circle, and Sydney did her part to stock the newcomers with weaponry while Emaline served liquor and mediated disagreements between their patrons. The pair passed info to Charon if he came in for a drink: This person knew of a cache in the ruins that Reilly's Rangers had left behind, that person was ex-Brotherhood and looking to give the faction the middle finger, that family had split up in Arefu and was looking for news of their missing relatives.

A majority of people moving into the museum were ghouls, but here and there a smooth-skin would arrive, fed up with the Brotherhood for their own reasons. Charon wasn't one to make friends, but Tulip was, and she already had connections with sympathetic wastelanders that she was willing to use. Together, the unofficial leaders of Underworld concocted a shaky survival plan: Encourage the smooth-skins to take on the outward-facing jobs that might put them in contact with the Brotherhood, and use what time that gave them to ferry ghouls out of DC.

"The Abolitionists and the Railroad will help," Tulip assured Charon quietly behind the counter of Underworld Outfitters. "There are already guides in place to help people go north, even south if they're willing to risk going by sea."

It was slow going, but little by little the refugees began to follow the trails under cover of night, with the help of Tulip, Quinn, Simone Cameron from the Abolitionists, and even old Herbert Dashwood, the retired adventurer from Three Dog's radio plays. Charon hung back in Underworld, keeping the remaining ghouls safe and using his imposing presence to convince the most stubborn of the residents to start a new life far away from DC. His height and a dark word about what the Brotherhood might do one day were usually enough to change minds.

"Why don't you go, if you're so dead set on abandoning this place?" Doctor Barrows asked him, when he finally convinced the physician to pack up his laboratory.

"Can't," Charon grunted. "Have to stay."

He couldn't explain his contract, even to those who already knew about it. It wasn't here, and neither was the person who held it. It tied Charon in place all the same, five words that had been spoken over a year ago by the vault dweller he'd accompanied on their tumultuous journey. Stay here. I'll be back.

So Charon did what he could from where he'd been tethered, and Underworld emptied. Smooth-skins began to outnumber ghouls, which made Cerberus a little perkier and the Brotherhood a little more willing to negotiate. Charon remained, sullen and resigned, yet unable to squash the promise the lone wanderer had made to him. I'll be back. When?

The day after Three Dog announced on the radio that the Prydwen had taken flight with the Elder and its best soldiers aboard, bound for the Commonwealth, Charon's missing overseer walked through the doors of the museum for the first time in two years. They looked tired, ragged. Like they hadn't slept in all the time they'd been away. After taking in the changed state of the settlement, their eyes landed on Charon's, who had stopped in his tracks halfway down the stairs from the upper level.

"I'm sorry," they said. "I've been..."

Their words trailed off. They knew it was insufficient. Charon stared at them coldly, gripping the railing next to him so hard his palms hurt.

#fallout #fallout 3 #fo3 #companions react #elder arthur maxson #brotherhood of steel #lone wanderer #pretty proud of this one ngl #also my reactions are still closed

[arcadewrites]

Hello!

I go by Arcade, and I write for the Fallout Companions from FO3, FONV, and of-course my beloved broken mess FO4. I also will write for non-companions from these games if requested.

I will write fluff, angst, and NSFW (if I feel comfortable with it.) One shots, headcanons, companions react and anything else requested or that comes to mind.

I really love the Fallout series and am hoping that this blog shows it. Also in case, you are wondering I am currently replaying Fallout New Vegas. My current companion is Boone and I stole his hat.

#fallout #fallout 3 #fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #fallout blog #fallout companions #fallout community #writer #writingblog #fo3 #fo4 #fonv #fo #fo2 #fallout 2 #fallout companions react

[totww]

Rules And Masterpost

RULES

Games

Fallout 3

Fallout New Vegas

Fallout 4

I will do

Oneshots (sometimes)

Art (sometimes)

NSFW (occasionally)

Headcanons

Rambles about characters

Anything to do with my ocs

I won't do

Most things with non-con, dub-con, incest, etc.

WILL ADD UPDATES WHEN I SEE FIT

MASTERPOST

Nothing so far

#rules #requests open #fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout nv #fallout 3 #fallout oc #fo3 #fo3 companions #fallout nv companions #fallout new vegas companions #fo4 companions #fallout companions #companions react #charon fo3 #arcade gannon #benny gecko #craig boone #raul tejada #masterpost #ulysses #courier 6 #courier six #lone wanderer #butch deloria #nick valentine #hancock #deacon fo4 #fo4 curie #fo4 x6 88

[stoat-party]

Natural state of Fallout 3 fanfiction:

Wacky two-dimensional NPCs forced to bear witness in confused awe as a teenager wields insurmountable levels of power to decide their fates

Natural state of Fallout: New Vegas fanfiction:

Flawed and traumatized individuals and factions reckon with their histories and the sustainability of their existence in a post-apocalyptic world. Can humanity ever break the cycle of violence? Can we ever truly be free of our pasts? Do idealism and bravery make a long-term difference? And whatever the answers, can we truly live with ourselves when all is said and done?

Natural state of Fallout 4 fanfiction:

TWELVE COMPANIONS REACT TO IDOLIZED SOLE SURVIVOR SUDDENLY KISSING THEM ON THEIR SILLY LITTLE HEADS (NSFW)

#before i played 4 i thought i was too good for the third category #but nah i just wanna put these dudes in situations now #fallout #fallout 4 #new vegas #fallout new vegas #fo4 #fallout 3 #fo3 #fnv #fallout: new vegas #fonv

[grumpymirelurkqueen]

Another request for fo3. How do companions show jealousy of LW, even if they say/pretend that they are not jealous?

Hi ! I hope I understood your request correctly and didn't misinterpret it as something stupid…

I removed Sergeant RL-3, Paladin Cross and Jericho because I didn't know how to make them into a certain jealousy dynamic. I never played with them.

(sorry it took me longer, I hope you like it).

How do the fo3 companions show their jealousy of LW, and then claim that they are not :

Butch :

I like to think Butch was always jealous of you. You have a good father, even if he left you in the lurch. But you had a father who loved you, compared to him who had a mother who was physically there, but not quite with him. So yes, Butch is more envious than jealous.

When Butch started travelling with you, his envy turned to jealousy. You seemed so smart, so good at fighting and everyone talked about you. When he was in the dugout, he loved to brag about being the best shot in his group. When the supervisor asked them to get rid of the bugs. (to run away, because he was scared).

He pretended not to be. But one day you argue, as usual. A dynamic you never forget.

“ So you can't understand. You've always had what I've always dreamed of having, and yet you complain so much! ”

“ Wait… are you jealous of me ? ”

“ Yes !... No... ”

Fawkes :

Fawkes was the happiest mutant man when he met you. You shared a love of literature, poetry and science. At first he admired you for all the knowledge your father had given you. But once he felt his heart pinch. He didn't know why, but deep down he was sad to feel that way again.

Once you discussed your shared knowledge. That same twinge came back, but you were looking at him. The sad look on his disfigured face brought back memories of your shelter.

“ Fawkes all right? ”

“ What's ? Yes, yes, I'm fine. I…. I'm happy to share my research with you. It just brings back bad memories.. ”

Which is not exactly a lie…

Clover :

You're a bit of a charm for the raiders. To displease you and to displease poor Clover. She's jealous of your beauty and the lights the Raiders put on you.

She'll admit straight away that she's jealous of you. So to appease her and to take advantage of it, you tell her the truth. That you hate being at the centre of raiders.

Now clover is a trap for herself. A beautiful slave crying in the middle of a supply route. So she can plunder the local merchants.

(Poor Quinn, you have no shame in attacking this ghoul ?)

Charon :

In all his ghoulish life, he never thought he'd be jealous of a teenager who was barely a young adult. But your talent for discretion has made him more jealous. His large body doesn't allow him to be discreet; a wall of sand can barely hide him.

For some days now, Charon has been looking at you in a different way. Knowing that he speaks with his eyes, but not yet knowing how to decode them. You ask him to, so you get a simple "nothing".

Dogmeat :

That dog can't be jealous of you, can he? Oh, you took the bone he wanted. Now he's lying on the floor watching you strut around with that bone. He's drooling over that bone, don't you see? You look at him once, twice and the third time you shake the bone at him. Just a waggle of his head and tail in response. Oh, how sweet of you to give it to him.

—————————————————————

Thanks for reading !

#fo3 charon #fo3 #fo3 companions #fo3 clover #fo3 dogmeat #fo3 fawkes #fo3 butch #fallout 3 charon #fallout 3 #fallout companions #fallout 3 companions #fallout 3 companions reacts

[fallout-friends-react]

What would Gob be like as a companion?

Lone's friendship and trust definitely means the world to him so he'd fight to the death on their behalf. Would probably yell something kind of lame like, "LEAVE MY FRIEND ALONE!" when running into battle. Fights with more ferocity than you'd expect, he's got a lot of pent up stuff to get out.

Way too shy to start a conversation with Lone so he wouldn't say much for idle chat. Lone would have to talk to him first, before he'd really say anything. He definitely wouldn't question their choices. If he had any judgments, he'd keep it to himself. Even if asked, he'd agree with anything they'd say, force of habit.

#fallout #fallout 3 #gob #fallout companions react

[nukaberries]

Heyo! If it's not too much trouble, could I get the FO4 companions reacting to a Sole who's super good with wild animals? Like the animal friend and wasteland whisperer perks but they're out here cuddling wild molerats and are able to pet Deathclaws. If that's not too much to ask, thank you muchly. Love your stuff!

I don't play around with Animal Friend and Wasteland Whisperer as much as I'd like to. I did once befriend a Deathclaw in Fallout 3, who died about five seconds later. He was great while he lasted though. Anyways, I'm glad you're enjoying the requests, thank you so much! I hope this one lives up to your expectations!

//

Companions React to an Animal Loving Sole (Includes: Cait, Codsworth, Curie, Danse, Deacon, Hancock, MacCready, Nick, Piper, Preston and X6-88)

Cait She'll immediately assume that Sole has some kind of death wish the first time she sees them carelessly approaching a wild Molerat with their hand held out. It's only when Sole doesn't lose a limb to the creature that Cait finds herself somewhat impressed, although, she makes a comment about how they'll probably catch all sorts of diseases from 'that rodent'. She doesn't think too much of it afterwards, that is until she finds Sole coming back into Sanctuary with a Deathclaw in tow, it's at that point that Cait will start to question Sole's sanity. Eventually, she gets used to finding Sole hanging out with Radscorpions, as though they aren't known for killing people without hesitation. She still finds it weird and she still isn't happy about that one time she woke up to a Radroach casually jumping around her head, but it becomes one of those things about Sole that she just accepts.

Codsworth Having known Sole for as long as he has, Codsworth is no stranger to his old friend's affinity for all different kinds of animals. He can still recall the amount of stray dogs and cats that Sole had brought into their home before the war, despite their spouse worrying that one might jump up at Shaun one day. If anything, Codsworth actually likes that this is something that hasn't changed about Sole - there's a lot of bad in the Wasteland and Codsworth knows better than any of the other companions how much this new world has changed Sole, so he finds it comforting to see some aspects of him are still the same. Of course, Codsworth is still sure to keep his distance from the creatures that Sole befriends; sure, they may like Sole, but who's to say they'll feel the same way about his robot companion?

Curie She loves having the opportunity to see the creatures of the Commonwealth up close and if Sole's happy to befriend every Mirelurk in sight, then Curie is more than happy to join him. Once Sole gets an animal to settle down, they usually tend to warm up to Curie immediately after - there was an incident with a Radstag kicking her over once, Curie doesn't like to talk about it. She also finds it interesting to see how the different animals in the wasteland have adapted and mutated to their environment and is more than happy to discuss it with Sole, if they're willing to listen.

Paladin Danse Initially, he thinks that stopping to pet every abomination that they come across is a waste of both their time and he makes this very clear to Sole. He tries to shut down Sole's attempts to befriend these animals as often as he can, although sometimes he can't help but find it quite mesmerising to watch a Deathclaw peacefully wander about right before his eyes. Still, it's only when Sole manages to tame a whole pack of rabid molerats that Danse wonders if their odd love for animals isn't so bad after all, not that he'd ever swallow his pride for long enough to admit that to Sole.

Deacon He does try to get used to the idea that Sole is going to pet every dangerous, man-eating creature that they come across, but it just freaks him out way too much. The stray mongrels following them around and wanting to play fetch are cute, even he can't deny that, although he'd prefer Dogmeat over them any day, but there's no way he'll ever get used to turning around and seeing a Deathclaw following after them like a big puppy. All Deacon asks is that Sole doesn't take it personal if he leaves them to fend for themselves when it comes to dealing with animals, he'd just prefer not to give a Molerat head scratches if he can help it.

Hancock Considering Sole chose to take him on their travels, he doesn't find it all that surprising that they'd want to pick up every other ugly stray they come across too. Admittedly, it's probably one of his favourite things about travelling with Sole, he'll never warm up to any of the bugs - Mirelurks are a firm no for him - that somehow become docile in Sole's presence, but he's got a soft spot for the Molerats. He'd love to bring one back home with him, for the sake of having some company and a mascot for Goodneighbor, but he gets the feeling nobody else in town would approve of that, so for now, it stays a simple daydream for him.

MacCready Once he gets over the shock of a pack of friendly Yaoi Guais swarming him and Sole, he's immediately jealous of this strange talent his friend has and wants to know how they do it. He refuses to take Sole not knowing for an answer and makes it his life goal to befriend at least one animal out in the Wasteland, of course, this ends with a dog bite on his arm and a bruised ego, especially when Sole manages to calm down the dog that had just attacked him. After that, he figures it's best for his own safety if he leaves the animal befriending to Sole, but he does ask for his own pet Deathclaw more times than he can count - not that it'd be very practical to have around Duncan, but a man can dream.

Nick Valentine There's not a lot left in the Commonwealth that can shock Nick Valentine, he's near enough seen it all and so, although Sole is expecting a much bigger reaction from the synth detective, he just accepts it. Besides, he once came across a girl roaming Boston Commons with a Sentry Bot for a best friend, a Mirelurk Queen isn't exactly that big of a surprise in comparison. That doesn't mean he won't go out of his way to pet any animals that Sole manages to tam on their travels, his favourite was probably the Radroach that Sole taught to roll over.

Piper Wright She genuinely thinks that she's having some kind of fever dream that first time she sees it, there's no way Sole would actually be sat at their campfire with a Mutant Hound sat on their lap peacefully. After pinching herself a few times and accepting the reality in front of her, Piper doesn't hesitate to dub Sole "The Wasteland Whisperer." If anything, she likes the bonus of not having to worry about fighting off any creatures whilst they're out on their travels, she just wishes that at least someone back in Diamond City would believe her when she told them about her Vault Dweller friend who can tame even the most vicious of creatures; even Nat thinks she's full of it.

Preston Garvey The first time that Preston saw Sole tame an animal was the Deathclaw back in Concord and for a moment, he was convinced that he was already dead and he just hadn't realised yet. At first, he wasn't sure how to bring it up to Sole to question it and so he decided not to question their odd talent at all, that was until he started travelling with them and they came across a Radroach nest. Preston still can't quite believe that there's someone out there that can befriend any animal they come across no matter what, but he finds it remarkable and he really doesn't mind when Sole brings animals back to Sanctuary. He's actually rather fond of the Yaoi Guai Sole brought back after going to clear out a settlement, he just hopes that they stay friendly, for everyone's sake.

X6-88 He doesn't see the point in befriending any of the creatures out in the Wasteland, it's far better to simply put them out of their misery after the generations of mutation they've had to endure. He makes this known to Sole immediately, which seems to offend his travelling companion, after that, he decides not to comment on it at all, aside from a few eye rolls and scoffs here and there. Of course, he doesn't complain too much when it comes to having the extra back up of a Deathclaw during a fight with raiders or Super Mutants.

#fallout #fallout headcanons #fallout imagines #fallout x reader #fallout 4

[profligate-whore]

Major Knight headcanons? Love your writing!

I'm just now realizing there's a lot of NCR characters that I never took the time to get to know-

Major Knight Headcanons

He has a crush on someone at the Mojave Outpost but since work relationships are frowned upon he'll never admit it

I get bottom vibes from him

He wishes he'd get assigned to a more exciting job, keeping logs of the caravans proves boring and uneventful

In his free time he times himself taking apart and reassembling weapons trying to get better and faster

He has blue eyes

Any dates you go on have to be done in private and while he's off duty

He tries to remain very professional when working but you're sometimes distracting

Late at night he might take you up to one of the roofs at the outpost just to talk and be together

He doesn't have anger problems but he can get a little pissy and sarcastic. He doesn't mean to though

He really wants to be able to fight and do more for the NCR he feels like his efforts are worthless and he's not making a difference

The only good thing about his job is getting to see the Brahmin that the caravans bring in. He remains professional and unreactive but he secretly finds them cute and would love to pet them

He feels underappreciated

He's very sanitary and treis to remain clean but sometimes his clothes and hands are covered in grease and oil from weapon repairs

I feel like he likes birds for some reason. He'd probably throw some seeds on the windowsill so he can watch them while he works

#new vegas #arcade gannon #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 #caesar’s legion #fallout #craig boone #fallout new vegas #vulpes inculta #joshua graham #fallout 3 #fallout fanart #fallout nv #fallout 4 companions react #fallout companions react #new california republic #nick valentine

[nightingaelic]

Alright, let's spin my sexy little wheel with every challenge, exploit, and perk in the game. 3... 2... 1... And it's landed on the Infinite Companions Glitch. Companions react to traveling as a group, Fallout 4 & New Vegas.

And what occasion would bring everyone together like this, I wonder

Fallout New Vegas

"I've had worse," Raul admitted, chewing thoughtfully.

"See?" Veronica offered some of the toasted night stalker tail to the others. Boone and Arcade declined, but Cass laughed and humored her. Lily daintily took a piece as well, and Rex snapped up the rest with relish.

"And that's normal for you," Arcade said, clearly dismayed. "When you're out on your own, hunting for supplies - you just cook up whatever attacks you that day, whether it's venomous or not."

"Beggars can't afford to be choosers, doc," Cass replied, crashing her shoulder into his.

"But we can," Arcade insisted, digging through his pack. "I've got pork and beans, I've got mutfruit, I've got cornmeal and brahmin jerky and barrel cactus-"

"Then save it for when we don't have coyote snake meat," Veronica suggested with a smile. "I cooked the tail, Arcade, not the fangs. If you really want to have a heart attack about wasteland diets, ask Six for their radscorpion venom casserole recipe."

"Very tasty," Lily rumbled, with a wistful look on her face.

Arcade gave up and began unsealing the can of pork and beans with his can opener. The tool broke halfway through the task and fell to the sand in front of the fire. The rest of the companions made noises of sympathy, and ED-E swooped down to scan it immediately. Arcade put his face in his hand and passed the can to Boone, who pulled out a knife and resumed prying it open.

"Dame eso, por favor." Raul nudged ED-E away gently and bent down to pick up the fallen can opener. He looked it over, then pulled a screwdriver out of his jumpsuit pocket and began tightening the faulty hardware while the eyebot watched with interest.

Boone loosened the top of the can sufficiently and pulled out a small, enamel saucepan from his pack. He dumped the pork and beans into it and set it in the nearby campfire's embers, watching it like a hawk from behind his sunglasses.

"Big day tomorrow," Veronica remarked, licking night stalker grease from her fingers.

"You said it." Cass leaned back on her pack and pulled her hat down over her eyes. "Almost makes a girl wish she'd written her story down. In case of the worst."

"You'll be fine," Veronica reassured her, though there was a little trepidation in her own voice. "We'll all be fine. A positive attitude is half the battle."

Boone shook his head and unearthed a spoon from his pack. Cass caught the movement and raised an eyebrow. "What do you reckon our odds are, sniper?"

"Hard to say." Boone crouched down to stir the pot of beans.

"We've done everything we can," Veronica insisted. "We got my family, Arcade's, even the Boomers... it might be enough."

"Enough, not enough..." Cass shrugged. "There's no other way. We fight, or the Mojave burns."

Boone nodded. Arcade ran a hand through his hair and stared into the fire. Lily patted Veronica on the shoulder, and the Scribe leaned into it, chewing her lip as she did. Rex, who until this point had been stretched out before the campfire, perked up suddenly. One by one, the companions turned in the direction of the cyberdog's interest. The crunch of boots and rustle of creosote heralded the courier's arrival, returning from their perimeter check.

Immediately, the mood lightened. "Hey boss," Raul greeted them. "Turn the radio on?"

The courier obliged. Radio New Vegas was halfway through Peggy Lee's "Johnny Guitar," and everyone around the campfire groaned.

Fallout 4

"Come and get it!" Piper yelled.

There was a mad dash for the first helpings of stew, with MacCready, Cait, and Deacon all elbowing and shoving to put their bowls forward. Codsworth doled out ladles with some exasperated remarks about manners and decorum, but the bot couldn't completely contain his delight that his cooking was such a hit. Curie, Preston and Piper formed an orderly line behind the first three ruffians, while Hancock finally shook himself free of the nap he'd been taking and stretched leisurely before the campfire, nearly knocking away Nick's cigarette in the process. "Watch it," the old synth warned him.

"Can you even process that?" Hancock wondered aloud. He pulled one of his own cigarettes out and touched it to the end of Nick's to light it.

"Old habits die hard," Nick replied.

"Ain't that the truth." MacCready sat down on the other side of Hancock. "Still find myself itching for one, occasionally."

"Strong hungry," Strong complained from the other side of the fire.

"Sorry, big guy," Deacon said, waving his spoon at the super mutant. "Cooked food goes to the FEV-free crowd first. General's orders."

"I still don't think we should be feeding an... a mutant at all," Danse muttered from the back of the stew line.

"Watch it, tin can," Hancock growled.

"Lighten up, Danse," Cait suggested. "He's going to kick in the Institute's back door with the rest of us tomorrow morning. You don't want him going in on an empty stomach, now do you?"

Strong stood suddenly and flexed his arms. "Strong go hunting!" he announced, before crashing into the nearby brush.

Piper took his abandoned seat and turned to check his meager pile of possessions. "Didn't even take his sledgehammer. He must be starving."

"Hunger is not known to inspire patience," Curie commented, sitting next to the reporter. "Puis-je avoir du sel?"

X6-88, who had been hanging back and munching on an Institute-issued ration bar, passed her the shaker of salt from Codsworth's supplies. Curie thanked him and added a dash to her stew. "How are you feeling about tomorrow?" she asked him.

"I am prepared," X6-88 replied, but the space between Curie's question and his answer was enough to betray the Courser's unease.

"You know, we could use a lookout to cover us," Nick said casually. "In case things go bad enough that we need to retreat."

"Retreat is not an option," Danse cut in. "The Institute's grip on the Commonwealth ends tomorrow."

Preston cleared his throat. "I appreciate the enthusiasm, Danse, but Nick's just being practical. Two of us should stay behind to guard the entrance to the cooling water tunnel system. If X6-88 wants it, one of those spots is his."

X6-88 nodded. "This would be acceptable."

"Fine." MacCready gulped down a spoonful of stew. "Who gets the other spot?"

The companions all looked at each other. Deacon coughed, and Hancock scratched around his collar, avoiding eye contact with anyone. "I'm not missing out," Cait muttered. Clearly, there weren't going to be any volunteers.

Codsworth, sensing an approaching presence, swiveled two of his eye stalks away from the stew he'd prepared. "Perhaps we should ask the general."

The sole survivor approached the fire from the southwest, huffing a little from their hike up the nearby embankment. "Ask me what?" they said.

"We need two rear guards at the tunnel entrance tomorrow," Preston explained. "X6-88 is one. We want you to choose the other."

"Oh, easy." The sole survivor bent down to scratch the ears of the German shepherd that had loped into camp with them. "Dogmeat. If he gets shot down there, I'll never forgive myself."

Deacon jabbed a finger at them. "I knew you loved that dog more than us!"

The sole survivor grinned. "He gets in way less trouble than all of you. Come on, if you're really that stuck on this decision, we'll draw straws."

#fallout #fallout 4 #fo4 #fallout new vegas #fnv #companions react #courier six #sole survivor #12 days of ficmas

[slocumjoe]

⚠️Request rules⚠️

1; Be specific and unique

For example, the prompt "Sole dies". All characters would be sad, or angry. But the prompt, "Companions travel through a haunted forest and lose each other" has a lot of ways it can go. Vague prompts can be difficult for me to write, as there's often not much to write. Or if there is, it ends up feeling samey, or too short. There's only so much I can write about Sole dying.

Some prompts are answered in canon, and don't need to be answered. For example, Companions react to Sole speaking like the Silver Shroud. You can easily go on a wiki or find a compilation video on YouTube.

Also, I prefer to write about the companions, not Sole. So, requests about the Sole Survivor are likely to sit in the inbox for a while.

2; Be mindful of dark subject matter

Guys. You know miscarriage is a real thing, right? A horrible, traumatic thing that fucks up entire families? And same with rape, or abuse, or anything like that. Use your best judgement asking about heavier topics. These things aren't scenarios to generate angst. They're traumatic events. That real people go through.

I'll never forget following a react blog who was asked to write about miscarriage, only for them to apologize and refuse, as they had suffered multiple miscarriages themselves.

Rule 3; No fetishes or second-hand embarrassment prompts

So, I said be specific and weird...not with your own fetishs, please.

For non fetish stuff, I really do not care for toilet humor. Or anything meant to evoke second-hand embarrassment. This is another 'use best judgement'. I'm very easily grossed out by body fluids/excrement and there's no prompt that I'm willing to do with it.

Rule 4; I don't do Fallout 3 or New Vegas content

Masterlist

Newest first

Reacts V

Freaky Friday Episode

Sole vanishes, oh nooooo

Beach Episode

Companion at the zoo

The Oberland Alien

Sole gets their name tattooed

Sole finds a baby and wants it

Companions play Minecraft

Gage only; Come to the Galactic Zone if you want an asskicking

Companions and a magpie of a person

Sole with bad motor skills

Companions react to a synth of themselves

Companions as Roommates

Modern!Companions and Halloween

Sole just kisses them already

Sole sick but refusing to rest

Sole who cries when yelled at

Sole gets hurt saving their life

Touchy Sole

Overhearing Sole realize they love them

Sole breaks down crying in their arms

Companions work at a grocery store

Companions react to the Scorched Plague

Companions on Social Media

Headcanon posts V

Religion and stuff

Grab bag 4

Drinking habits

Coming out

Who they'd end up with

Losing their virginity

Modern au

Sexuality and ideal partners

Dreams and nightmares part 1

Companions' tells that they love someone

Companions' fursonas

What they'd eat in general

NSFW grab bag 3

Companions and stress

Companions spend time at a settlement

Gage fluffy-shippy-sad headcanons

Interior design

Companion Headcanon Grab‐bag

Gage Catchup Lightning Round

Favorite songs on the radio

NSFW Gage Headcanons

NSFW; Libido/sex drive

NSFW; Intensity in bed

Variety NSFW headcanons 2

Variety NSFW headcanons

Comfort food

How often they bathe

What they do/wear on days off

Danse headcanons

Laughing headcanons

X6-88 Headcanons

Physique headcanons

2 headcanons per companion

1 headcanon per companion

Meta stuff V

Synths as trans allegory for pride month

Polyamory and infidelity in games

Curie's quest is pretty dumb

A bunch of mini-essays on all the companions

Danse and autism

Oc appearance meme

Isadora ramblings and lore drops

Cait breakdown and critique

Minutemen Questline Rehaul

Florence, Isadora, and Gage

Wasteland creatures i want

Gage Name Meaning

The Gage Essay I wrote while baked on leftover lasagna

Thoughts on Piper, Strong, and Codsworth

Strong Character Bingo/Rant

My thoughts on Porter Gage before playing Nuka World

Peer-Reviewing "The Synthetic Truth"

Piper rant 2

I swear I am normal about Piper

Things I love about the companions

Biggest complaints about each companion's writing

Meme stuff V

Getting Hulk smashed by a baby (game clip)

How id compliment them

Sole gets a pet-claw

...hi (game clip)

Bad timing, dude (game clip)

Who smokes weed

Cat X6-88

Shaun gets a pet-claw

Cannibal perk

Companions as video games

War-shta-sure

Four frenchspeakers screamingn in a room

Danse's favorite shirt

Egg

muppets

dickless nickolas

mall cop

Memes 2

Memes 1

What the companions get canceled for

AITA For trying to blow up my crush's blimp?