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#mr brotch
falloutuniverse · 28 days
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Results!
Vault Chaplain
They say the G.O.A.T. never lies... According to this, you're slated to be the next vault chaplain. God help us all.
... I didn't take the G.O.A.T. seriously and look where I ended up. If you don't like the results, I can make your G.O.A.T. come out any way you want. Just let me know. Just between you and me? The whole test is a joke.
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Choose a favorite character whose name starts with "E"!
(Or a character you just want to see me write for 😁)
If you have any questions on these characters, please feel free to ask!
And if you think of someone who's not listed here that you would like to see, feel free to add a name to the comments/reblogs!
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coltswael · 2 months
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MY STUDENTS ARE MORONS!!
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harveywritings92 · 7 months
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Charon: ...Yer tellin' me yer whole life's career down in da vault was determined on whether ya did good on stupid piece of paper?
Branwen: Yep, I got chaplain...
Charon, snorts: You a CHAPLAIN?! *chortles* what a load of crap! haha...
Branwen: *chuckles* Yeah, it was load of crap. Even Mr. Brotch knew it was a load of crap, that's why he let me tweak my results a little...
Butch, spits out his beer: You..th-What?! THAT WAS AN OPTION?! I DIDN'T HAVE TO BE A STUPID HAIRDRESSER?!
Branwen: Yep, but I'm doubtful Mr. Brotch would've let you change your results, Butch.
Butch: Why not?
Branwen: Cos he didn't hate me... He didn't like me either, but he didn't hate me.
Butch: Bullshit!
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Butch first kiss where they're in detention and have like a Breakfast Club confession each where they reveal how their home lives are unsatisfying.
Thank you for the prompt <3
Detention (Butch Deloria First Kiss Drabble)
Notes:
warnings for Butch being a bully, mentions of alcoholism, Lone is kinda mean (even though Butch deserves it), underage drinking, Lone is a bit of a crybaby and a goody two shoes
This was supposed to be a drabble but it got away from me
Word Count: 3260
The vault doctor’s daughter was completely exhausted. As she trudged into her first class of the day, what she wanted more than anything was to tell Mr Brotch she wasn’t feeling well, turn right back around and go back to bed.
But she couldn’t do that. She wasn’t about to let her attendance slip this close to graduation. No, she would bite the bullet and push through, ignoring the heaviness of her eyelids.
Butch Deloria, her tormentor of many years, stuck his leg out in front of her. She almost tripped over it, but she was primed for this, because he always tried something.
“Fuck off, Butch,” she snarled under her breath, and he gave her a shit-eating grin.
“I didn’t do shit, Poindexter.”
She wanted to snap back at him, but she was already almost late. She’d slept through her alarm this morning, so had arrived at class only a minute before it was due to start.
There was only one seat left, and it was the one directly in front of Butch. She felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. From the front row, Amata shot her an apologetic look over her shoulder. Her usual seat next to Amata had been taken by Christine Kendall.
She couldn’t blame Christine. Nobody wanted to sit in front of Butch.
Resigned to her fate, she sat down at the desk and started getting her books out of her bag.
Mr Brotch had barely started writing on the blackboard when she felt a foot nudging the back of her chair. Steadfastly, she tried to ignore it, feeling the anger bubbling just below the surface.
A particularly hard kick had her jolting forward, so she turned to glare at him over her shoulder.
“Cut it out,” she whispered. He smirked at her, raising his hands in faux-innocence.
“Mr Deloria.” Mr Brotch’s voice redirected her attention back to the front of the class. “Keep your hands and feet to yourself unless you want another detention.”
She turned back around to face the front fully, trying to focus on her work. There were a few blissful minutes of peace before a folded scrap of paper landed on her desk.
She eyed it warily. She wanted more than anything to ignore it, but she could feel the heat of Butch’s stare on the back of her neck. Glancing up to check that Mr Brotch was still facing the blackboard, she unfolded it.
whats got your panties in a twist this morning?
Without looking back, she flipped him off over her shoulder, and then went back to her work. He was getting on her last nerve.
“Mr Deloria.” Mr Brotch sounded just as tired of Butch’s antics as she was. “Please pay attention.”
“Sorry, sir,” said Butch. She could hear the shit-eating grin in his voice, and braced herself. He was never so polite. “It’s hard to pay attention when I can’t see the board over Nosebleed’s massive head.”
A few scattered chuckles broke out across the classroom. The Tunnel Snakes, no doubt.
It was a stupid joke. She had had far worse said to her, usually by Butch. Normally, she would’ve brushed it off and ignored him.
She couldn’t for the life of her explain why she was on her feet, turning to face Butch fully. Mr Brotch called out her name, cautioning her, but she had already flipped Butch’s desk over, almost knocking him out of his chair in the process.
“What the f-” Butch was staring at her, eyes wide, but Mr Brotch got there before he could say anything else.
“Please go and stand outside,” he said to her, and she came back to herself, surveying the damage she’d caused. Butch’s belongings were scattered all over the floor. He was looking up at her, his expression not angry or smug, but confused. “Please?” said Mr Brotch. Her lower lip trembled. She was in trouble. She never got in trouble.
She sidestepped around Butch and headed for the door. Behind her, she heard Mr Brotch ordering Butch to swap seats with Amata so he could keep an eye on him.
As soon as the classroom door closed behind her, she let out a shaky breath, tears welling in her eyes. She really, really didn’t want Mr Brotch to see her crying. It was so stupid. She was being a crybaby. Butch was probably crowing to his friends about how he’d gotten to her.
The door opened and Mr Brotch stepped out. She sniffed, trying to hide the way her hands were trembling. He hit the button to close the door and then turned to face her.
“You wanna tell me what happened in there?” he asked softly. “It’s not like you to let Butch get to you.”
“I’m just… tired,” she said. Her voice came out shaky.
“You know I’m going to have to give you detention, right? I can’t play favourites.”
She nodded. “I know.” Her heart felt tight. She scrubbed at her face with her sleeve, thankful that Mr Brotch was pretending not to notice the tears rolling down her cheeks.
He let out a deep sigh. “I’ve moved Butch away from you, so he shouldn’t bother you anymore. Why don’t you go and take five minutes, wash your face and take some deep breaths, okay?”
“… Thanks, Mr Brotch.”
*
The rest of the school day went largely without incident. Amata gave her a sympathetic look when she came back in and resumed her seat, but now that Butch had been moved, there were less distractions.
Sure, she could feel that some of her classmates were looking at her. She had made a spectacle of herself, after all. But at this point, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
At lunch, she was first out the door, opting to go and find a secluded spot where even Amata couldn’t find her, so she could catch up on some studying.
When they reconvened in the classroom for the final period of the day, her best friend frowned at her, looking a little hurt. She tried to ignore the fact that she was in the process of disappointing or upsetting everyone around her. Today was a bad day and she just had to get through it.
The final period dragged, and when everyone else was allowed to go home, it was just her, Butch and Mr Brotch left in the classroom.
“I’d hoped we’d moved past this by now,” said Mr Brotch wearily. “You’re both sixteen. You’re not children anymore. I was hoping that the two of you would’ve figured out how to settle your differences like adults by now. I suppose that was too much to hope for.”
The girl sat there, her stomach churning. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Butch looking at her. She staunchly ignored him.
“This classroom needs cleaning, anyway. Supplies are in the cupboard. If you need me, I’ll be in my office. Neither of you are leaving here until this room is spotless. Desks, floors, chairs. The bookshelves need to be organised too.”
“That’s going to take forever,” she sputtered. The words were out before she could stop them. Mr Brotch looked taken aback. It wasn’t like her to talk back. Then again, it wasn’t like her to get detention in the first place.
“Well, you better get started then.”
Ignoring Butch’s groans, she got to her feet as soon as Mr Brotch was gone and went straight for the cleaning cupboard. Her hands were shaking a little. This was time she didn’t have to waste, and she couldn’t see Butch pulling his weight here either. She was going to have to take charge.
By the time she’d filled a bucket with hot, soapy water, Butch had just about got to his feet. She dumped the bucket in front of him, relishing the way he leapt back to stop the water from getting on his shoes.
“What’s your fucking problem?” he snarled.
She ignored him, tossing a cloth at him. “You can start on the desks. I’m going to organise the bookshelves, because I can actually read.”
“That’s not fair. You probably enjoy that shit.”
“The sooner we get started, the sooner we can get out of here,” she said, brushing past him. To her surprise, he didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he dunked the cloth in the bucket, rung it out, and got to work scrubbing the tables.
She was almost pleasantly surprised. Of course, being able to get on with it in silence was more than she should’ve hoped for. As she took the books down so that she could dust off the shelves, Butch clear his throat, and she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.
“So what’s the big rush, anyway? It’s not like you have a social life,” he said. “I thought you’d be jazzed to spend all afternoon at school.”
She spun around to face him, her arms full of books. “Oh, that explains everything,” she snapped, dropping the books onto the desk in front of her. “That’s why you’re always getting detention. You don’t even want to go home, because then you’ll have to face your mom.”
Butch dropped his washcloth and stared her down. His lips were twisted down into a frown. He took a step towards her, and she found herself backing up instinctively.
Was he going to hit her? He hadn’t hit her since they were kids, and they’d been roughly the same size back then. Now he was taller and more muscular. If he hit her, it would hurt.
To her relief, he stopped a couple of feet away from her. “I could just leave, you know?” There was heat in his tone, but rather than angry, he sounded upset. That gave her pause. “I don’t give a fuck about getting in trouble, unlike you. I could say fuck this and walk right out of here.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Part of her wanted to push him, to goad him into throwing down his washcloth and leaving for good, so she wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore, but that would mean she would have to clean this whole place by herself. It would mean even more time before she was able to get home to study.
No, she didn’t want him to leave. But she wasn’t going to beg him to stay. She turned back to the books and started sorting through them. Butch glared at her for a long moment, and then went back to cleaning the desks.
They lapsed into a silence that wasn’t friendly, but wasn’t actively hostile, either. When she was done with the shelves, she grabbed a second washcloth so that she could get started on the chairs. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked past him, but ignored him, opting for the furthest away chair from where he was currently standing.
Unfortunately, that meant that they were working their way towards each other, destined to meet in the middle unless she skipped a few and started working her way back from the other end.
There were only two desks between them when Butch said, “It was a genuine question, you know.”
Her eyebrows pinched together, but her body was tense, suspicious. “What?”
“Why do you care so damn much about getting out of here?”
She snorted mirthlessly. “I have to study, Butch.”
“Why?”
She rolled her eyes. “We’re weeks from graduation and you’re asking me why I have to study? There’s less hope for you than I thought.” For once, he didn’t lob the insult right back at her. He just stood there, watching her. “What?”
“You’re already top of the class. What do you have to prove?”
“It’s not about proving anything. If I’m gonna follow in my dad’s footsteps and become the vault doctor, I need to be at the top of my game. You’ll thank me for it when I’m giving you stitches after you get wasted and hurt yourself for the tenth time.”
He laughed then, loud enough to make her jump. “You can be a real bitch, you know that?”
The comment startled her, even though it shouldn’t have. Butch was mean. He had said far worse many times before. But this one stung. Maybe because this time, she had the sinking feeling that he may have been right.
He brought out the worst in her. On reflection, the things that she had said to him would mortify her if she’d said them to anyone else. But this was Butch. And he wasn’t done.
“Nobody else seems to see it. Mr Brotch loves you,” he snapped. She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “If I pulled the stunt you did today I’d be in detention for a week. The Palmers love you. Your dad loves you.”
“Of course my dad loves me,” she scoffed, but then she caught the look in his eyes. More than angry, more than hurt, he just looked tired.
“Must be nice.” He turned away from her, going back to cleaning the desk.
Her heart was racing. In all the years that she’d known Butch, it had never once occurred to her why he was so angry all the time. Why he seemed to hate her specifically. Now that she thought about it, how could she have missed it?
They were both from single parent families, but while James had taken every opportunity in her childhood to tell her about her mother, how much he loved her and how proud she would’ve been of her daughter, she was pretty sure that Butch didn’t even know who his dad was.
Her dad was busy, working full-time in the respected position of being the vault doctor. Butch’s mom was an alcoholic, a laughingstock and the centre of a lot of vault gossip. On top of all that, she had no idea what Butch’s home life was actually like, but it can’t have been easy.
“I’m sorry. About what I said about your mom. That wasn’t fair.” It was an obvious sore spot and she’d jabbed her finger right into it. And maybe Butch deserved it. Deserved or not, it didn’t feel great to be the person pressing on that wound. It wasn’t the person she wanted to be.
“Yeah, well…” He huffed out a breath. “It’s not like you were wrong. I don’t wanna go home. And there’s only so long I can spending wandering the halls of the vault before I go insane.”
“What about the Tunnel Snakes?”
He looked at her then. His lips quirked up for half a second, and she realised that she’d never called his stupid gang by their stupid name before. Not to his face, anyway.
“There’s also only so long I can listen to Wally talk shit before I totally lose it. Don’t get me wrong, the Tunnel Snakes are my boys, but… It’s the same damn shit every day, you know?”
“I know.” She understood more than she would’ve liked. Life in the vault was stifling. She saw the same few people every day, ate the same food, had variations on the same conversations. Sometimes she felt like she was losing her mind.
Butch cleared his throat, but didn’t look up from the desk he was cleaning. “For the record, I am sorry. For… well, everything, I guess? You don’t deserve it but messing with you is the only way I can make my day interesting.”
She let out a surprised laugh. “You’re such an asshole, Butch.”
“I know, I know. You always make the funniest faces. Like…” He furrowed his brow and stuck out his lips in a mock-pout.
“Asshole,” she repeated, tossing her wet washcloth at him.
He dodged. “It’s fun until you actually get mad.”
“Most days I wouldn’t even…” She trailed off, her mind casting back to the stacks upon stacks of textbooks that were building up in her bedroom. Suddenly, she was blinking away tears. Oh god. This was the last thing she wanted.
Butch’s face fell. “What did I say?”
“It’s not you, I just-” She sniffed, trying in vain to keep the tremor out of her voice. She was not going to cry in front of Butch. “I have so much shit to do. I’m barely sleeping. And my dad doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s too busy with his research.”
Butch glanced back over his shoulder at Mr Brotch’s office. The door was still closed. He reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a hip flask.
“Here,” he said, holding it out towards her.
“What is it?” she asked uncertainly.
“It’s whiskey. Trust me. You could really use it.”
She took it from his hand and unscrewed the cap. She took a sniff. It was a more pleasant smell than she’d been anticipating, although the sharp alcoholic stench still hit the back of her throat.
Butch was watching her. She took a swig, determined not to gag. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was a coward or a prude. She swallowed it down, trying to ignore the burning sensation. As she handed it back to Butch, he gave her a look that bordered on approving. He took his own swig and then pocketed the flask again.
“Alright, now that you’ve loosened up a little, we’re gonna finish up here and then you’re gonna take the night off.”
“But-”
“No arguing,” he said, putting a finger to her lips. The motion shocked her into silence. His skin was softer than she’d expected. “You put the chairs up on the desks and I’ll mop.”
He stepped away from her, and she felt a little dizzy. From the whiskey. Probably.
She was finished before him, obviously. She hovered by the door as he went to go and empty to bucket into the sink.
Part of her brain was telling her to make a break for it, go back to her room and start studying before he could try to stop her. The other, much louder, part was telling her to swig down the rest of Butch’s whiskey and stop worrying so damn much.
He reappeared a moment later, and her choice was made for her. Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was the intoxicating scent of his cologne that washed over her as he approached.
“Alright, you ready to have some actual fun for the first time in your life?” he asked.
Her fingers wrapped around the edges of his stupid jacket as she pulled him towards her. He only had time to raise his eyebrows before their lips met, and he let out a quiet, startled sigh. It was a pleasant sound. She wondered what other sounds she could get him to make.
His hands came to rest on her lower back, pulling her towards him, and it was her turn to sigh. Her hands travelled up over his pecs to his shoulders, and she didn’t miss the way he shivered slightly as she linked her hands together behind his head.
He pulled away from her momentarily to look her in the eyes. His expression was warm and unfamiliar, unlike anything she’d ever seen from him before.
“Fuck, girl, you’re full of surprises today,” he murmured. She laughed, and he kissed her again, stealing the laughter from her lips. “You wanna go get a slice of pie from the diner?” His breath was warm across her skin.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”  
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maccreadysbaby · 1 year
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Yes hi yes hi can you please give me a react of f!lone finding out butchs mom died in the vault and he doesn’t show up to class but she is a good person so she goes to find him and ask if he’s ok even though he’s so mean to her
yes! I’ve never played fo3 anywhere past leaving the vault, so that and other peoples works are all of the insight I have on butch’s personality. I’m so sorry if I portray him a little wonky💀😭 this is written under the implication that they don’t like each other
Nosebleed?™︎
She sighed heavily as she opened her textbook, flipping through it as she and the rest of the class waited for Mr. Brotch to make it into the classroom. It was already a few minutes past time for class to start, and Mr. Brotch was always on time. It just made Lone wonder. Not that she was complaining about wasted class time.
And for a while, it seemed like that was all it would be. That is, until Amata came barreling into the room, sliding into the desk in front of Lone and turning on a dime. Her dark ponytail whacked her in the face, but she didn’t even care. Her eyebrows shot sky high and she squeaked, albeit, quietly: “Did you hear?!”
Lone leaned in closer to her best friend, scanning her surprised and worried expression. “No? What’s up?”
“Butch’s mom, she… well, she died,” Amata whispered the statement, but it seemed to be the loudest thing in the room.
“… What?”
“Yeah, heard she drowned in all that vodka,” Amata whispered.
Lone instinctively glanced around, quickly finding Wally Mack and Paul Hannon at the front of the class, acting totally, completely normal. Did they even know? They had to know, Lone decided, why wouldn’t they? Butch would tell them, right? So why were they here and not with him? He was alone now, wasn’t he? He didn’t have any other family? Amata would take a month off of class to be with Lone if anything ever happened to her dad, so… why weren’t Butch’s friends doing the same?
“-Earth to Lone,”
Lone glanced back at Amata, who was still staring at her. “Sorry, what?”
“I said doesn’t that suck. I don’t know what I’d do if my dad died,”
Lone nodded, glancing back at Wally Mack and Paul Hannon in their stupid jackets. They’d wear the symbol of their group but not waste their time being there for one of them?
Surely Lone was overthinking. They probably didn’t even know. How did Amata even know?
“Where did you hear all of this?” Lone questioned. Amata cocked her head to the side, chuckling.
“My dads the overseer, or did you forget? Plus, my dads out in the hall telling Mr. Brotch,”
Oh, right. The overseer.
Lone glanced around the room warily.
“Where’s Butch?”
Amata looked at her best friend, calculating, questioning with her eyes. “I don’t know, probably holed up in his room. Why?”
“By himself?”
Amata furrowed her brow. “I mean, the rest of his social group is here, so I’d assume. Unless one of the adults is in there with him.”
“You think one is?”
“Probably not. The only other one the least bit qualified to handle any of this is your dad, and I just saw him,” Amata stated, brushing some fallen hair out of her face. “Why?”
“I mean… it kinda sucks for him to be alone, doesn’t it?” Lone questioned, glancing anxiously at the door. Her leg was bouncing underneath the desks. Amata glanced down at it.
“Oh, don’t tell me you’re thinking of going. Butch DeLoria is a mega-douchebag, Lone, especially to us. He’d probably just curse you right back out the door anyways,” Her best friend reasoned. “I know you like to play the role of the vaults resident nicey-nice, but Butch is not someone to pity.”
Lone scoffed. “This isn’t a little misfortune, Amata. Trust me, if it was, I’d laugh. His mother just died.”
“I know that, but… look, even if Butch lets you be all nicey-nice for a minute, he’ll never let you live it down. You’re loading his gun,”
Lone snickered. “If Butch DeLoria lets me be nicey-nice without his arrogance getting in the way? He’s loading mine, too.”
Amata sighed, running a hand over her face. “I won’t stop you, but I think you’ll regret it.”
Lone glanced around again. Where was Mr. Brotch? Oh, right, in the hallway with Amata’s dad.
Lone couldn’t stop her leg from bouncing as she thought over everything in her head. If she went, she’d probably just get a lifetime supply of embarrassment. But if she didn’t, if he was left alone, what if he wasn’t okay? What if he needed someone right then and she didn’t go? As much as she disliked Butch DeLoria, she couldn’t help but feel for him. And as rude as he was, she couldn’t shake the fact that everything inside of her was telling her to go. After all, most mean people have sucky circumstances that make them mean. So was he even a bad guy? The answer was obviously yes. Or was it?
“Wish me luck,” Lone muttered, leaving her textbook on the desk and rising from the seat.
“Seriously?” Amata questioned, shaking her head. “Well, if you come back with a bloody nose, I’ll say I told you so!”
Lone shook her head as she made her way into the hall. She spotted Mr. Brotch and The Overseer speaking in an adjacent hall, so they’d be easy enough to tip-toe by. She couldn’t help but listen in to their conversation as she passed.
“-don’t know. He’s a sixteen year old trouble child. I’m not sure who’d be open to taking him in,”
“-but you aren’t just gonna leave him alone, are you?”
“He’s practically been raising himself all these years anyhow. It might be less stressful for him to work through it alone instead of throwing him into another family setting,”
“But he’s a child-“
Their voices faded as Lone got farther away from them. They were thinking about putting Butch with another family? Butch? As much as she felt for him, she agreed that there probably wasn’t a soul in the vault who’d agree to taking in Butch DeLoria.
She weaseled her way down toward the residential area, into the deeper parts of the vault. Was she really doing this? Going to speak to Butch DeLoria, willingly? She didn’t think about it much because she knew she’d change her mind. She just needed to do it.
So, she exhaled heavily when she stopped at his door. God, she couldn’t believe she was going through with this. But, would she want to be alone if her dad died? Even if Butch was the one who showed up? No.
With a deep breath, she gently rapped her knuckles against the door.
It took a few seconds for him to answer — during which she was rethinking all of her life’s choices — but the door eventually slid open.
Butch looked… normal. He was still wearing his jacket, still has his hair all greased up and perfect. Even the judgmental look he gave her was the same as normal.
“What do you want?” He asked, disappearing from the doorway but leaving it open so she could speak. She stepped forward a tiny bit so she could see him trail over to a couch and sit down on it.
“I was coming to see if you’re… okay. I noticed Wally and Paul weren’t doing such a great job at it,”
Butch inhaled and exhaled slowly. “Yeah, I’m all fine and dandy. You can go now.”
Lone shifted on her feet. “Oh, okay. I’m… sorry about your mom.”
“Me, too,” He replied nonchalantly, propping his elbow on the arm of the sofa and resting his forehead on it.
“Do you need anything?” She continued.
“Sure, I need lots of things, but your pity isn’t one of them,” He hissed, eyeing her from the couch with narrowed eyes. His words were dripping with so much venom that she suddenly understood why he called himself a snake. “Why’re you really here? Recon so you and Amata can laugh at me later?”
Lone’s mouth fell open. “I’m not- I don’t-“
“Just get out, yeah?”
Lone sighed heavily. Amata was right. “I’m not here to make fun of you. That’s your thing, not mine. I just thought you might not want to be alone. Obviously I was wrong.”
She huffed, turning on her heel to head back out the door. She knew she shouldn’t have come. What was she thinking? That it’d be all fine and dandy and he’d have a holly jolly time? Amata was right. She needed to get a grip on this nicey-nice stuff before it came back to haunt her.
Just as she crossed the threshold to the hallway, Butch’s voice came again: “Paul and Wally don’t know.”
She froze, pivoting on her heel back towards the door. She glanced inside. “They don’t?”
Butch shifted on the couch, crossing his legs. “I was trying to keep the number of people knowing to a minimum, and they can’t keep their meatheads shut.”
Lone took another step forward, watching his face to determine her next move. He didn’t say anything, so she stepped again.
“Want me to close the door?”
“Don’t care, nosebleed. If Amata told you, it’s only a matter of time before everyone else knows. She’s always been into handing my personal information out around the vault like Halloween candy.”
Lone sighed and turned backwards, pressing the button to close the door. It slid shut and clicked. He was right, about Amata. She’d told the entire class his mom was a drunk two years ago when he’d insulted her particularly grossly.
“Is there… anything you wanna talk about, or do? Maybe take your mind off of everything?” She asked, stepping forward again. She was thinking about making a move for the seat next to him, but she wasn’t that confident yet. “I can get a board game or something. Or we can just… talk. Up to you.”
“You are trying way too hard to be helpful and it’s making me nauseous. Just sit down,” He ordered. Lone shut her mouth and obeyed, taking a seat to his left and pressing herself against the farthest arm of the couch. Well, she was in the room, so that was a start, right? Right?
They fell silent for a solid five minutes. It felt like a year and Lone quietly wished she was dead for all of it.
“Your moms dead, isn’t she?” Butch asked suddenly. Lone glanced over at him, brows knitted together.
“You definitely know how to start a conversation,” She shook her head. “But yeah — died in childbirth.”
“Do you blame yourself?” He continued. She scanned his face, trying to read it for what in the world he was after, but there was a glint of genuineness in his icy eyes that she’d never seen before, and she didn’t want to lose it by being sarcastic.
“Uh, sometimes,” She replied, glancing down at her hands for a second. “I mean, it wasn’t really my fault but it feels like it, y’know?”
He stayed quiet for a few moments, looking across the room at nothing in particular. “How do you… make that go away? The guilt?”
Lone looked back up at him, her chest tightening as she suddenly understood what this was about.
“You’re… not the reason your mom died, Butch,”
He turned his head away from her. “She was getting better with the drinking, she really was. But it started again when she sobered up enough to realize what I was up to. Who I am.”
Lone’s voice went deathly soft. “It’s not your fault.”
“You don’t know that,” He muttered.
“I know that your mom was coherent enough to make her own choices. You can’t take responsibility for other people’s actions, you just can’t,” Lone tried. “Everyone has free will, you can’t make anyone do anything. They choose it themselves.”
“Why does it feel like it was all my fault, then?” He finally looked back over at her, and her breath hitched in her throat when she saw glossy, crystal clear tears pooling at the bottom of his eyes. Hers immediately started to burn, but she blinked it away.
“You’re… taking too much responsibility,” She stated, looking away at the same time he did. “It isn’t gonna get you anywhere other than exactly where she was. You just need to… let yourself understand that it wasn’t you, it was her.”
He sighed, shakily. “But she did it because of me.”
“That was her choice to make,” Lone stated, carefully reaching over and resting a hand on the shoulder of Butch’s leather jacket. He didn’t move away like she thought he would. “Just let it sink in. It was her choice.”
He let out another shaky breath, accompanied by a few tears rolling down his face. Lone didn’t say anything about them, only rubbed his shoulder the slightest bit, sympathy painted across her features. This was a situation she never thought she’d be in. Ever.
“Why are you here? Helping me?” He asked suddenly. She didn’t move her hand.
“Because you’re hurting, and I’m not just gonna leave you to do it alone. Even the infamous Butch DeLoria needs someone he can lean on,” She explained, but he didn’t look at her. “I know what it feels like to lose your mom. And I didn’t want you to go through it alone.”
He sucked in another breath. “What am I gonna do now? I don’t have anybody.”
Lone scooter the slightest bit toward him, moving her hand from his shoulder to the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t say I was leaving anytime soon.”
As soon as her hand was there, it hardly took any force to pull him into her because he was already on the way. She held her breath for a moment, because Butch DeLoria was seriously crying on her right now, Butch DeLoria. She could feel his shoulders trembling and his head was really warm on her shoulder. But she settled soon enough, rubbing his back lightly.
He would definitely be back to calling her Nosebleed in no time, and frankly, she wouldn’t mind as much.
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softlyapocalytpic · 1 year
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Felt like I was in a mood to think about how Amy would feel about the growing romance between Butch & Lainey in our LW wanderer AU <3 @persephotea take this small silly treat
Amy was bouncing her leg hard enough that her desk was starting to rattle. Mr. Brotch looked back at her a couple times with an arch brow, but something on her face made him keep his thoughts to himself. Amata - and Freddie - didn't feel so charitable. She tried to stop, really, she did, but anytime she saw Butch giving Lainey those big ol' doe eyes when he thought no one was looking it made her want to snap her pencil.
When Lainey had started tutoring him she'd been worried. Not the Butch would try anything weird, but that he'd be a dipshit. Now Lainey was looking at him like blushy cheeks and baby doll eyes and- and she wasn't saying a word to Amy about it. Both her and Amata kept asking, but Lainey's lips were sealed.
Amy dug her pencil onto the page of the essay and tried really really hard to not be pissed off about it. What Lainey did on her own time was none of her damn business and Lainey wanted to keep secrets now than whoop-di-fucking doo. Good for her.
Someone tapped her shoulder and Amy turned to fund a marker being handed to her, big brown eyes that smiled at the corners. Lainey had leaned over, smelling like cinnamon & coffee, and her heart skipped a bit Amy looked at it warily.
"Brotch still hasn't given you the colors back?"
Amy was scowling back (she knew she shouldn't, she could hear her Dad reprimanding her) but took the marker anyway, "I'm on a two-week probation. Apparently 'the bard's work isn't for doodling'." Amy rolled her eyes, "I don't get what's so great about Romeo and Juliet anyway-"
A ruler rapped against her desk, "Lockhart, Watson. Care to share with the class?"
They both straightened up in their seat instinctively, but Amy's mouth was faster than her brain, "I mean I could, but I don't think you'd like it." She bit her tongue.
'Damn it.' She could hear Butch and the other snakes snickering on the other side of class and it made her want to punch something.
"Please, go ahead."
If it had been any other day she would've shut her mouth and apologized (probably), but having all these eyes on her made her skin crawl and she was so tired of Butch's shit. "I don't see what's so great about Romeo and Juliet."
"Lockhart-"
"Why is the best love story ever written? They don't love each other- they barely know each other! Romeo was in love with someone else at the start of the story, whose to say he would've been any better to Juliet had they actually lived? It's just sad, not romantic. It shouldn't be seen as a love story, but instead what happens when-"
Brotch cut her off, "I'm glad to see you were actually paying attention to some of the lecture, but next time-" he plucked the marker out of her hand, "-try applying that to your behavior, please."
Amy slumped into her seat and propped her chin in her hand feeling all of those hot sparks flying and nowhere to put it. She zoned out the rest of the lecture feeling like moments from flying off the handle, and was going to stalk off to practice when a warm hand grabbed hers.
"Amy! Wait up!"
Cinnamon and coffee.
She felt her cheeks ignite.
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druidgroves · 1 year
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browsing the wiki as i do for fic purposes, and while writing some stuff for flora while she was still in the vault, i read the transition lines said between growing up fast & future imperfect and
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god damn mr. brotch get his ass.
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Waking Cloud Talks To Mr Brotch
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selfvalidity · 2 years
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OC-tober day 1: childhood
"Daddy?"
"Yes?"
"What does my name mean?"
"...I don't understand, kiddo."
"Well, me and Amata-"
"Amata and I."
"Amata and I, anyway we were in the library and found a book that had baby names and they had meanings! Like, Amata means 'beloved', Butch means 'manly', your name means 'supplanter'... what's a supplanter, anyway?"
"A supplanter is someone who wrongfully takes the place of another. Like, if Jonas decided to force me out of my job so he could be the Vault doctor."
"Jonas wouldn't do that!"
"Heh, don't worry, kiddo, it was just an example."
"Okayyyy...But yeah, we were looking up everyone's names but we couldn't find mine!"
"Well, that's because your name is a bit unique. You were named after my great-great-great-great-great uncle-"
"Woah! That's a lot of 'greats'!"
"Yes, it is! His name was also Matte Adams, and he was a field medic in the Great War."
"So he fought the Commies?"
"...Where did you hear that term?"
"The history books in the library said it."
"Listen, you're not in trouble, but I don't want to hear it again, okay?"
"Why? Is it a bad word?"
"It's a kind of bad word. It wasn't always a mean thing to say, it was just rude, but when the Great War happened, it carried a lot of weight. Meaning, if you called someone that, it could get them in trouble no matter if they did something bad or not."
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"It's okay, kiddo, you now know better, right?"
"Right!"
"Anyway, yes, your namesake fought against communist China. But, what military records don't say is that as a field medic, he helped everyone injured. Even enemy soldiers."
"Wait, so he was a doctor like you?"
"Yes, indeed!"
"Woah! That's so cool! But why did you name me after him?"
"I wanted you to take after him. I want you to also be someone who helps people, no matter who they are."
"Then I'll be the best doctor ever! And I'll help everyone in the Vault, even mean kids!"
"Matte, is Butch bullying you again?"
"Don't worry, I talked to Mr. Brotch about it. He's moving seats in a couple days."
"Alright, just if he gives you more trouble, I can talk to the Overseer, okay?"
"Okayyyy."
"Anymore questions? Or can I go back to work now?"
"Ummm...one more! Was he apart of Vault 101? Or did he live somewhere else?"
"I believe he did get into one on account of his service, but I'm not sure. All I know, is that he lived in Boston."
"That's by Massachusetts, right?"
"Very good! Been practicing your states, have you?"
"Yep!"
»--•--«
"..."
"What?" Matte asked, looking quizzically as Butch remained silent.
"Does my name really mean 'manly'?"
"That's what you're thinking about?" he snapped, shoving Butch in the shoulder with a barely concealed grin.
Butch chuckled. "Alright, alright! Cut it out!"
They settled down, turning to gaze north as the sun set to their right as it left a trail of soft pinks and oranges across the sky. Matte sighed, smile turning melancholy as he remembered his father and simpler times.
Feet dangled off the overpass they camped out on, the glow of the campfire illuminating the view around them as their backs grew warm with the heat. Matte could feel the heavy gaze of Butch alight on him, and allowed himself to bask in it, the line of friendship continuing to blur.
"Hey."
Matte glanced over. "Yeah?"
He watched with a soft heat as Butch worried his lip in uncharacteristic hesitancy. It dissipated with his companion's question.
"Did...you want to go see?"
Brows furrowed in confusion, Matte stumbled. "Uh, see what?"
Butch rolled his eyes. "If what Doc said was true. If you actually have family in Boston."
Matte blinked. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. What, you thought I was kidding?"
"I mean, kind of," Matte chuckled, scratching his cheek. "But that would be great."
"Cool," Butch nodded, leaning back on his hands and tilting his face up to the sky.
Unable to resist the urge to tease him, Matte leaned toward him with a smirk. "It's also very sweet, Deloria."
Butch whipped around, cheeks growing dark with embarrassment. "Don't get cute on me, Adams! I was just being thoughtful!" he sniped in reply, finger pointing accusingly.
"Awww, you think I'm cute?"
"Shut it!"
Their bickering filled the darkening sky, joining in with the chorus of the Wasteland nightlife as the stars emerged from their slumber, glowing brighter as twilight was swept away.
And all the while, teenagers got to be teenagers.
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thecoolkidsbasement · 5 years
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Mr. Brotch: DeLoria! I know you snuck out of class yesterday!
Butch, internally: PLAY DUMB
Butch: Who’s DeLoria?
Mr. Brotch:
Butch, already running away: NOT THAT DUMB
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falloutuniverse · 3 months
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At age 16, every Vault 101 resident takes the Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test, or G.O.A.T., which helps determine job placement.
Questions will be posted on a weekly basis. Once the final poll is complete, Mr. Brotch will score our results and tell us our expected job placement!
Good luck, vault dwellers!
Question 1 (Poll Closed)
Question 2 (Poll Closed)
Question 3 (Poll Closed)
Question 4 (Poll Closed)
Question 5 (Poll Closed)
Question 6 (Poll Closed)
Question 7 (Poll Closed)
Question 8 (Poll Closed)
Question 9 (Poll Closed)
Question 10 (Poll Closed)
Results
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cdfreak · 2 years
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cyan waking up to find red asleep at her desk in their room, having stayed up all night trying to solve a math sheet. he quickly scribbles in the right answers before waking her up so they can get ready for school. mr brotch sees the bags under reds eyes and pretends not to notice when he collects that days homework and her usually messy and mostly incorrect sheet has been filled out perfectly, in handwriting uncannily similar to cyan's
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starions · 3 years
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*blows the dust off this one* a butch x lw oneshot i wrote when i was fifteen, starring my lone wanderer gigi halloway. enjoy
Gigi wrinkled her nose as she stepped over the dead raider. His blood pooled under her boots and she dragged them along the old, shag carpet to clean them off. One hundred caps to clean this abandoned townhouse of raiders and they got to keep the spoils? Good enough for her. Butch, though, would not stop complaining about it.
“I still think we shoulda asked for more caps,” Butch mumbled, putting his gun back in his holster.
Gigi sighed, and knelt down to loot the raider. She couldn’t help but to notice how young the dead man was; her and Butch’s age tops. She frowned, and brought out a cap stash hidden in his pocket. “See? This job basically pays for itself. And if we sell some weapons and armor, then it will be worthwhile. I’m not sure why you’re complaining. Go loot that girl over there.”
Butch glared at the redhead, but did as he was told. “Can’t we just, I don’t know, find caps anotha way?”
Gigi wiped blood off on her jeans, standing up. “Like what Butch? Cutting hair?”
Scoffing, Butch finished looting the raider, producing nothing but a few bobby pins and some shotgun shells. He never liked that he got hairdresser on the G.O.A.T, just like Gigi didn’t like getting Pip-Boy repair girl. Jesus, Pip-Boy repair. Why would she ever want to do that? She was lucky Mr. Brotch changed it for her, she was much happier working with her dad in his clinic.
Just the thought of her dad made Gigi’s brow furrow and heart twist.
“You okay?” Butch asked, stuffing the bobby pins in his pocket.
Nodding, Gigi turned her heal, facing away from Butch. This was not the time to cry about her dad. Shaking it off, Gigi continued looking for supplies.
The two found nothing more in the living room, except maybe a few good food items and a spare bottle cap hidden under a rug. This townhouse had two more bedrooms, though, and Gigi and Butch couldn’t risk leaving anything valuable out of their hands. They entered the first bedroom, which was obviously used for more than sleep, judging by the smell and the old condom wrappers on the floor. Worn down posters of nearly nude girls plastered the walls, and chems were everywhere. It was fucking disgusting in there.
“Jesus!” Butch muttered, pulling his white undershirt up to cover his nose. Gigi coughed into her elbow, stepping over stains on the carpet. “You ain’t going in there,” Butch said, pulling on her arm.
“I’m not going to touch anything Butch, lighten up. It is just… so gross.” Gigi couldn’t help but to gag, and she stepped back. Butch still held her by the elbow, and the two were touching back-to-back now.
“Remember what Mr. Brotch taught us in sex-ed? About… fluids?” Butch said the last word with disgust, and Gigi snorted.
“I can’t believe you remember anything about that class, Butch, I thought you were too busy thinking about dicks and tits.” She shook loose of his grip and tiptoed in the room. Making sure to avoid touching anything nasty, she pulled open a dresser. Gigi raised her eyebrows. “There are a lot of condoms in here. Jesus Christ what the fuck was this place?”
“Raiders, man,” Butch said, hesitantly following Gigi’s lead. “They’re fucking disgusting.”
Gigi opened a few more dressers, not finding anything worthwhile. She considered stashing some chems to sell, but decided against it. Once people around here catch word you’re dealing, they won’t leave you alone.
She did, however, stash some condoms. Not to use herself, but, you know in case. With who? She didn’t know. Definitely not Butch. That thought almost made her laugh aloud. Though, he was nicer to her now out of the vault. Both of them were the only thing left of the vault. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad… they were already stuck with each other.
Gigi shook the thought out of her head, glaring at the poster of a topless girl in front of her. What in God’s name was she thinking just now? Fuck. She stood there, drumming her fingers on the dresser, admiring the crudely drawn penis pointing to the mouth of the girl on the poster, when Butch piped up.
“Hey Gee?” Her head snapped behind her, and she noticed how red in the face Butch was all of the sudden. “You a virgin?”
The sound that came out of Gigi’s mouth was a mixture of a laugh and a gasp. Why would he ask that in the middle of a dirty sex pit? “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Right,” Butch muttered. “Forget I said anything.”
Gigi turned around, facing the poster again. Truth be told, she wasn’t. Two weeks after the G.O.A.T she had fucked Freddie Gomez because he got trash burner as his job. It didn’t mean anything; he was sad, and Gigi had just come to the revelation that she’d have to lose her virginity to someone in the vault. She’d rather it be Freddie than that asshole Wally Mack, or Butch for that matter.
Gigi faced Butch again, who was fiddling with his Pip-Boy. “Are you?” Gigi asked, suddenly curious.
Butch head jolted up, and he glared at her. “You can’t ask me that when you ignored it when I asked!”
She grinned, amused by his answer. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“You go first.”
“Fine,” Gigi said, stepping over a particularly large stain to inspect the night table. “I’m not a virgin.”
“You’re full of shit,” Butch said, crossing his arms. Gigi looked at him from across the bed and shrugged. “For real? You really fucked some rando out in the wastes?”
“I never said I lost my virginity in the wasteland.”
Butch’s mouth fell open, his eyes wide. “No way you slept with someone from the vault. He would have told me.”
Gigi grinned, pulling a box of stimpacks out of the nightstand. What was the use for them in this setting? Shrugging, she put them in her bag. “I told him not to tell anyone, especially you,” she paused, “considering the fact he was a Tunnel Snake.” Or, trying to join Butch’s gang, for that matter.
“You ain’t gonna tell me, is that it?” Butch narrowed his eyes, wanting more information.
“I’ll tell you once you tell me if you’re a virgin or not.”
Butch pressed his lips together, and avoided eye contact. Finally, he spoke up. “I’m no virgin; what I look like? Some loser?”
Gigi crossed her arms and leaned against the nightstand. “Oh really? Who is the lucky lady who was Butchie-boy’s first?”
Butch paused for a second, and then said: “Susie Mack.”
“No way,” Gigi said, giggling. “Wally wouldn’t let Susie touch you with a ten foot pole.”
“You don’t believe me? Me and Susie did it. Lotsa times.” Gigi saw through his facade, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt.
“Whatever you say, stud.”
“Oh yeah? And who was your first, Goody?” Butch said, using the only nickname Gigi didn’t mind. It originally was Goody-goody, but it managed to get to just Goody. Sadly, it’s lost its meaning out in the Wastes.
Gigi swung her bag over her shoulder, hearing the rough leather collide with the barbed baseball bat strapped to her back. She walked out of the room as Butch followed. “Freddie Gomez.”
Butch stopped in his tracks. “Bullshit! Freddie would have totally told me. He would have done anything to get with the Snakes.”
“And I told Freddie that if he told anyone I’d break his nose. You weren’t the only one he was scared of,” Gigi said, going into the next bedroom. It was much cleaner, and much nicer than the one before.
Butch furrowed his brow. Noticing the semi-clean mattress, he plopped down on it. “Freddie? What was so good about Freddie?” He almost whispered.
Gigi cocked her head to the side. “Well, he was nice to me for one. And it wasn’t like I was in love with him or anything. He was upset after the G.O.A.T so I decided to cheer him up.”
Butch propped his head on his hand, looking at Gigi with an emotion in his eyes Gigi couldn’t place. “So you just gave away your virginity, like that?”
“Back then I decided that I’d rather lose my virginity quickly than wait until I was assigned a husband. Like I said, Freddie was nice to me. Now I know that virginity is just a concept and it doesn’t matter,” Gigi said as she opened the two door closet.
Butch muttered something under his breath, and began fiddling with his Pip-Boy again.
Finding nothing in the closet, Gigi turned around, walking to the dresser. Gigi knew something was wrong when Butch didn’t even talk for a straight two minutes. Looking at him, Gigi noted that he looked a bit sad. A million thoughts ran through Gigi’s mind at once. Why in the wastes was he sad? He was sad that she slept was Freddie Gomez? She had told him it was nothing, for God’s sake. Gigi crossed her arms, letting her wait fall onto her left leg.
“Are you upset with me or something?”
Butch grumbled, turning his head to look out the dirty window.
“Because I fucked Freddie Gomez?”
Butch’s frown deepened. “No,” he said quietly. “You didn’t want me to be your assigned husband?”
Gigi couldn’t help but laugh. Her smile son faltered when she realized Butch wasn’t joking. “Are you serious?” She asked. “Did you block out our entire vault life? You treated me like shit.” Gigi paused, her eyes bouncing around the room, anything to avoid eye contact with him. “We treated each other like shit.” A sigh slipped out of her mouth as she remembered all the things she said about Butch and his alcoholic mother.
Butch grinned, his previous sad exterior melting away. “Yeah, you did treat me like shit Goody; almost like you were in love with me or something.”
A glare appeared on her face, but she still couldn’t help the growing on her face. “Gross, asshole. Let’s get out of here, this place smells like ass.”
Butch pushed himself off the bed, a cloud of dust filling the air as he does so. “Lead the way.”
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grognakthebarbarian · 4 years
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Sure thing, Mr. Brotch.
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corsairesix · 4 years
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The results are in for the favorite minor characters in Fallout!
(Your mileage may vary about whether this counts as a minor character)
Characters in 3, New Vegas, and 4 that only got one vote were:
Fallout 3 -- Weston Lesko, Wernher, Wadsworth, Victoria Watts, Vance, Toshiro Kago, Thomas Jefferson, Stockholm, Squirrel, Sally, Rosie, Rory McLaren, Reilly, Quinn, Princess, Pappy, Nadine, Mr. Brotch, Mister Burke, Miss Jeanette, Lucy West, Karl, Jenny Stahl, Irving Gallows, Ian West, Harold, Gallo, Flak, Emmaline, Cherry, Bryan Wilks, Bronson, Bessie Lynn, Benji Montgomery, Barrett, Arthur Maxson,
Fallout New Vegas -- Boxcar, Book Chute, Driver Nephi, Lucius, Sergio, Cachino, Festus, Vera Keyes, Bitter-root, Lt. Boyd, Keene, Deputy Beagle, Jane, Old Lady Gibson, Siri, Alice McLafferty, Father Elijah, Daisy Whitman, Antony, Diane, Lieutenant Gorobets, Grecks, Stealth Suit, Pretty Sarah, Marjorie, Philippe, Silus, Ezekiel, Daniel, Francine Garrett, Captain Curtis, Lanius, No-Bark Noonan, Rhonda, Poindexter, Ignacio Rivas, Tom Anderson, Carlyle St. Clair III, Jimmy, Malefic Maud, Private Kyle Edwards, Thomas Hildern, Jessup, McMurphy, Violet, Cliff Briscoe
Fallout 4 -- Rory Rigwell, Proctor Teagan, Aster, Isabel Cruz, Nat, Dr. Duff, Miss Edna, Moe Cronin, Mags Black, Sheriff Hawk, Captain Avery, Zeke, Marcy Long, Horatio, Duke, Grand Zealot Richter, Proctor Ingram, Edward Deegan, Jezebel, Keith McKinney, Bedlam, Evan, Barney Rook, The Scribe, Mikey, Moss, Cog, Magnolia, Phyllis Daily, Travis, Hawthorne, Chase, Sonya, Mama Murphy, Wiseman
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