#[ answered ] paladin danse

[gobald]

Careful, Rhys, that smells strongly of jealousy.

[acorncoffeeformysweetheart]

AAAH HELLO!! :]

Wow Im excited to see your excellent art that will happen from these requests!!

You like ghouls! I like ghouls! What do you think Danse would look like ghoulified ? (Power armour is absolutely optional!)

Thank you!! !

Hi))

Oh my poor boy… I wouldn't want him to become a ghoul. I don't think he can handle it, he doesn't have the right type of character. I tried my best, but I'm not sure about the similarity. All his prominent features - thick hair, wide eyebrows, full cheeks and large lips - will not be preserved in the form of a ghoul. So in my AU, after breaking up with Sole (they remained friends and comrades) Danse stuck with the Minutemen and slowly started to recover and search for his own way. Maybe he will find significant other later. I wish all the good things for him.

[bretonalchemist]

do you think the sole survivor would ask Nick and Danse questions like "do you poop ?"

bc i sure would

[wastelandhell]

Thank you mutuals in the tags for reminding me that I have never actually talked about Val and Danse's relationship. The entire point of this blog. The two characters that I post about almost exclusively. Oops.

Yeah, they're hopelessly in love with each other, but they don't get together until shortly before the brotherhoods siege on the institute at the end of the last act. 90% of the time when I'm drawing them its mid-game, when Danse is still in the brotherhood and Val is still looking for Shaun. Maybe I should start actually talking about what happens to Val through the story instead of vaguely alluding to it.

[blindbetrayal]

clean, refreshed, in his element, wearing the tackiest shirt caps could find. he's doing great. a post-brotherhood world is a happy one. general garvey and the followers welcomed him with open arms

[nuclear-winter-blog]

Danse looks like the wife the morning after and Junda bless him is wrapped like a compressed burrito I am living for it

Now that you say that, you're totally right and I can't unsee it 😂

It is a joke between the two of us that Danse and Junda are essentially just an old married couple, the bickering and soft moments.

-J

[repconnaerospace]

@fatedvoyage / logan: i'm guessin' this is not the future you pictured for yourself. no country for old men / accepting

"No, I suppose it's not." And he maintains that the Minutemen, such as they are, are heavily reminiscent of Lyons' time in the Capitol Wasteland; too willing to overextend themselves in the name of protecting the far-flung settlements of the Commonwealth plagued by ferals and super mutants. And before, true enough, he'd have argued that they also lacked a strong ethos, lacked a central set of tenants to operate around, to adhere and dedicate themselves to. But, as it goes, things do have a habit of changing, and one thing he will admit has done so and eventually settled him here, specifically, is that his assumptions might have been right in the beginning, but new leadership and new direction and organization has set the Minutemen on the path to becoming a true force to be reckoned with, in this corner of the wasteland.

He still has qualms, of course. Places where, while he logically knows the structure of the Minutemen under the new General is preferable to the drifting solo after being banished from the Brotherhood has made his reality before this, it still fits poorly in some ways, still feels too lax. Chafes against ideals and, he supposes, some will say indoctrination, that he had been proud to adopt as his own.

And, of course, there's something to be said about the questionable qualities of those he's found himself rubbing elbows with here. Logan is just one example, and possibly not the worst, but certainly not a shining beacon of what the new Commonwealth can possibly be.

"But it's still a future that allows me a chance to effect the outcome of the Commonwealth, to show how structure and discipline are key to mankind's survival."

[toxickimi]

Why always Danse? We want MacKimi!!

I'm sorry to disappoint lol MacKimi wouldn't work because of how she is. They really are a brother/sister combo with how I have Kimikyo act. Danse is level headed, tactical, and basically a teddy bear

Kimi is forward focused, chaotic, and basically driven by impulse

The two compliment each other. It's why she also works well with not only Elder Maxson but Preston, Gage, and even X6-88.

The sole reason I chose to put her with Danse(and elder Maxson) is because I know his character better.

I would honestly love to see her with X6-88 and see how they'd work but sadly I just never side with the Institute long enough to get him as a companion to learn how he acts and thinks. I normally still with Danse because even though he annoys me, he's a great companion to have. Preston will always, ALWAYS be paired with Azumi. That is my OTP.

While I'd like to explore how Kimi and Gage act towards each other more in the first fanfic, I don't think it'll come to pass anytime soon.

I might do an institute playthrough just to get X6 since I always side with the minutemen

[nukaposting]

i think it's about time we had a sexyman poll for the fallout side of tumblr. above is a list of all the fallout sexymen i could think of; if you think i missed anyone, i probably did want to add them, but polls only have ten answer slots. i may make a part 2 if there are enough characters left over, then pit the winners against each other in a final poll.

cast your vote, and may the best sexyman win.

[chadfallout76podcast]

what made you put nora x danse together in death shroud? i was surprised considering nora x hancock shippers seem to be the loudest/most popular ship in the fandom!

That's a great question with a complex answer. Sometimes writers write from instinct without a lot of thought in the moment. At least for me anyway, it's very stream of consciousness and I let the great whatever kind of guide me, in the moment not really thinking too much...just mentally playing out scenes in my head, letting the characters interact and then I transcribe what's in my head to the page. I had to think about your answer and why I put them together.

I know people LOVE a Nora/Hancock ship, but I looked at it through the lens of grief and loss. When you lose the love of your life, a part of you dies with them. Imagine a perfect morning, your husband, your child shattered in just minutes. MINUTES. In minutes everything you've ever known is gone. Then seemingly minutes later you watch them killed. An empty death. A pointless death, seemingly without reason or justification. And then, boom...you are thrust out into a harsh, unforgiving, broken world mirroring the shattered part of your soul. People bend, but they rarely break and even when they do, the road you take may grow dark, but at the end of it even in the deepest part of you, the heart YEARNS for what it lost. Nate went to war because he felt a deep sense of duty to his country and to his family, however misplaced this may be in the grand schemes of suits, politicians and madmen. Soldiers always pay the price for their kindness, willing to make the ultimate sacrifice and represent the last true measure of devotion and faith in an idea. I think Nora would've loved that about him.

Danse, while completely different, is a blurry shadow of Nate. The dedicated soldier, whose ideals and life were built around the idea of what the Brotherhood should be (perhaps not what it was under Maxson). I would argue that many of Danse's actions fly in the face of how Maxson would do things, and yet he clearly skated reprimand as the ends always were satisfactory. There is a nobility in that fact, as Danse isn't motivated by power, making many of his decision altruistic to a degree. His arc however SIMILARLY to Nora leads to a cataclysmic loss of everything he's ever known. His entire identity, his "family", his entire life shattered in minutes. Danse is a widower to the person he was, Paladin Danse DIED that day. Danse is who survived.

Sometimes soulful love is born from a shared journey in healing. For Nora, Danse is a reminder of the man she lost...never, ever to be replaced or forgotten but honored. There is so, so much of who Danse is that is a shadowed remind of what she fell in love with in Nate, enough to be comfortably familiar while also different. For Danse, Nora is the suture of a wound as deep as the soul, not born into, but made...not created by Man with 1's and 0's, but through choices and actions that represent the truth of sentience. They very much needed each other. Healing journeys can create friction. People are complex. Guilt, doubt, regret, fear of being wounded again all can push people away from each other. And yet, in due course, the heart wants what the heart wants. Nora and Danse found their way back to each other, and for me, would've remained following the events of Death Shroud.

Although for more on what happens next...you'll need to wait a little bit. ;)

[slocumjoe]

ways people write the companions that make me go hmmm

Gage excluded because I haven't seen enough portrayals of him

Cait; Poor Cait has such confusing, odd writing choices that I can’t blame anyone for doing this, but...when she’s boiled down to either Tough Irish Gal or Traumatized, with little dimension. Again, Bethesda does this themselves in text, depending on ??? so it’s not, like, a big deal. My advice for writing Cait is to remember that she exists outside of being Irish or Traumatized. She’s read/read about Freud, for example. So, she presumably learned to read, likely self-taught. If she read something psychology related, she must have taken an interest in it. That sort of thing. The best way to write Cait is to not take the obvious answer, because Cait’s depth itself isn’t obvious.

Curie; When people write Curie as a stupid, horny, smol bean 2 gud 4 dis world, i throw up in my mouth. Same as Cait, this is Bethesda’s fault. They have a habit of going for funny dialogue instead of sensible. There is no reason for Curie to say half the shit she does, she says it because someone thought it was funny, or worse, sexy. I’d recommend going through Curie’s likes/dislikes and dialogue even more so than I do other companions. Curie has a lot of edges if you go looking for them. Y’know Covenant? Curie supports Covenant. Also, she’s literally a robot in a human body. She’s 200+ years old, too. Make her fucking weird. Y’know how elves/fae are? Like that. Bonus if you make her friendliness off-putting. Being friends with a doctor gets annoying, speaking from personal experience. Also, being a doctor, she knows all about sex and sexual pleasure. She’s not confused what a dick is

Hancock; please acknowledge other aspects of his character beyond horny, sad, or high. He has them, I swear. Do you even know his parents’ names? No. You care only about ghoul dick or stoner jokes. He’s not even a stoner, he does the Fallout equivalent of meth/adderall. Much like Deacon, he does and thinks about other shit. I joke with Hancock as well, but you might notice that none of my actual reacts/headcanons open and close with shit like “he huffs some jet with one hand, fingers you with the other, and thinks about how he sucks”

Danse; i promise you, Paladin Danse is not hypervigilant of people’s asses/tits/dicks/whatevers. He’s not imagining having sex with your busty Sole every time he looks at them. That’s not just not Danse, it’s also very creepy and dehumanizing to both Danse and Sole. Is Sole not more than their tits? Other companions get the too-horny treatment as well, but I see Danse getting it worse of all. Sometimes he’s written as absolute manchild regarding sex, knowing literally nothing, same as Curie. I say Danse doesn’t know what jerking off is as a joke, but he probably knows. But Chronic Virgin Danse is usually a light-hearted joke, Hypersexual Danse is just fucking weird. It gets into unhealthy territory. Like...Danse wouldn’t want to fight people flirting with his crush. He wouldn’t even get aggressive if he was dating Sole. He’s not a hotheaded asshole. Annoyed at best, rude at worst. It’s giving Fifty shades/Twilight/After. 

Deacon; You guys know that when Deacon takes a shit, he isn’t dedicating it to Barbara, right? He isn’t dedicating it to his own redemption, or saving synths? He isn’t thinking up a cool lie to make about the shit-taking? When he has a drink of water, he isn’t like, “Barb used to drink water.” or “The U.P Deathclaws drank water” or “I’m gonna say I killed a behemoth with a water bottle!” Deacon has other thoughts and motivations beyond the meme or the sad. I can’t judge too much, because Deacon himself would approve of being thought of like this, but good god. Just let the dude be a dude sometimes. Let him shit in peace. 

MacCready; might be because he’s the most solidly written, but very few complaints with most MacCready stuff. Him being a little perverted is in character, he’s 22. However, I have seen people straight up forget Duncan and Lucy. It’s okay, though. So did Bethesda.

Nick; Also usually solid, the most common crime is that aforementioned After Shades of Twilight writing. Nick is not a possessive dude. He’s even less likely than Danse to get aggressive over his partner. Yeah, sure, he’s a cop, but is that really the fantasy you want? Really? 

Piper; I have...famously strong opinions on Piper, but good god. Blue this, Blue that, I’m gonna write about this, this’ll look good in my paper, I’m putting this in the news. Oh my God. You’d think Sole was a fucking SMURF with how many writers call them Blue. You’d think Piper dragged her writing press behind her like Sisyphus heaving his boulder along. Same as Deacon and Hancock, SHE DOES OTHER SHIT. People bend over backwards trying to work in the fact she’s a reporter. Same as Cait, the obvious is not interesting. 

Preston; fuck the settlement jokes, I hate it when Preston is turned into an UwU soft boy baby cinnamon roll 2 gud 4 dis world UwU sunshine sweetie pie cutie. Whenever someone does this, they don’t actually like Preston. They have no thoughts, no feelings, they just...I don’t know, want to be contrarion to Preston haters? “Imagine not liking Preston, couldn’t be me ;333″ you realize this is racist, right? Like, you know infantilizing black men is racist? Oh my God you don't know this is racist

X6-88; SPEAKING OF FUCKING RACISM. The highest discourse I’ve seen around X6 is calling it ableist to HC him as autistic, but that is NOT the biggest issue with X6 writing. X6-88 is best described as, like, a very expensive, very spoiled cat of a rich, Old Money asshole. You know the Evil Stepmother’s cat in Cinderella? That bitch. That’s X6 in a nutshell. That’s how you write X6. I’m not even going to get into the racist ass portrayals of X6 because fuck is it tiring, just gonna leave you with this; X6 is best when you see his character for the humor and genuinely interesting philosophies in it, and not when you see him as a BDSM hardcore porn big dick sex god dominant daddy who likes spanking. 

[boltlightning]

do you need someone, do you need a new me?

Once-Paladin Danse joins the Minutemen. fallout 4, post-blind betrayal, a handful of missing scenes. one-shot, ~2k words

Danse does not know how to answer that. “It — it smells. The water.”

“…yes.”

“But does it actually smell?” Danse leans back, glancing aside at Preston, who crouches curiously beside. “Am I merely experiencing the olfactory sensors using processing power to tell a chip that it smells? Do I like the smell, or am I remembering that I liked it? Did I make this call? Did someone else?”

Preston wrinkles his nose — a very human gesture. Even before the revelation, Danse had been told he did not emote near as much as his comrades. He assumes this observation would count among those offenses and quietly tucks it away for himself.

“It smells,” Preston declares, “and you’re thinking way too hard about this, Danse. Everyone’s got sensors and processors and all that, just…made of different material.”

(read on ao3!)

[typosandtea]

Got tagged by @irradiatedpiratebooty (Thankyou!) to post some wips…. 😅

No pressure tags for: @sirmanmister @acorncoffeeformysweetheart @charliesvarietyhour @fuzzydreamin @bokatan :]

I’ve got so many abandoned sketches / concepts and very few wips that make it past that because usually by the time I’ve hashed out the sketch I’ve figured out if I like it and if i have the ability to pull off what I am picturing yet ahahah and the ones past sketch are often abandoned for ‘I cant figure out why I don’t like this’ rip

(I’ve also tacked a half written danse fic on the bottom!)

Some active wips✨ (Danse like its 2015, silly comic based on this post, sketch of Murphy and Nathan)

Some I’ll hopefully come back too??????????? (Tacky mug, Danse and Frankie in Far harbor (based on Night Letter by @/watchyourdigits, I paused for falloutober and never picked up again sorry :/ ), Sweetbrew fallout 76)

Proper abandoned rip (Danse as a dnd paladin (a request that I didn’t finish since the vibes are bad, sorry @/never-gonna-danse-again :/), and a silly comic based on this screenshot of mine)

And some writing since I’m trying to figure out how to do that yay ⤵️

(Untitled, unfinished) Danse, 2nd person, Danse is kinda oblivious, ‘How does Danse deal with loving and being truly loved by a railroad sole, even after the events of rr fallout 4.. (poorly)’

Dawes, Worwick, Brach and now Keane. All good soldiers dead too soon, too young, under your command. With a heavy heart you know now that soon you'll watch as you lose Haylen and Rhys too, before succumbing yourself to the ever growing tide of ferals that has been ebbing closer over the course of the battle, it feels like an eternity has passed since you saw Keane fall to the abominations, time seemed to have broken, though you know that its only been half an hour at most. If you survive the onslaught you'll have to organise a proper memorial.. if..

Reload. Aim. Fire. Assess the situation, update tactics. Breathe. Reload. Aim. Fire. Godless heathens! Rhys is injured! Breathe. Reload. BREATHE. Aim. Fi- Fire rains down on the ferals from outside the compound. Reload. Update tactics with Haylen, while more gunfire and another molotov begins to part the irradiated sea of scum. Aim. You catch a glimpse of them. Fire. The remaining abominations are dealt with swiftly, and while thankful for the well timed assist you can't help but to be cautious of them after all of the opposition your team has faced in the commonwealth. You ask them about themselves and they ask about you in return, thinking back you never got a straight answer out of them but no time to think about that now. Leading the way, you fill the silence with a debrief of Gladius' disastrous mission here, after all they had seemed interested in the Brotherhood, even if the sunglasses clad man with them had frowned. Arcjet brings more surprises, in both the unwelcome form of gen 1 synths, and the strangers' apparent combat effectiveness and familiarity with facing them. Between both of your combat prowess, the dilapidated laboratory is soon devoid of any synthetic 'life'.

Choosing to debrief outside you stumble through attempting to compliment their outstanding combat abilities, for a civilian. You part ways after gifting them Righteous authority and an accepted invitation to join the brotherhood, much to the dismay of their companion it seems. On the walk back to the station you realise that you feel lighter than you have in months, if just a little bit crispier too.

Months pass and things have been going well for the soldier, their already good combat skills have been steadily improving, Maxon has promoted them already! They are turning into a model knight, albeit with some unorthodox choices sometimes, but you want them to succeed you know they can!

After a particularly gruelling day of clearing out yet another super mutant nest you mutually decide to camp out in a suitably defensible old house, "you're quite the soldier" you say for not the first time, casual conversation comes easily with them, easier than it has for you in years you realise with a pang. And so you tell them about Kreig and how you are pushing them the same way he pushed you, to grow into the potential you see in them, and then you apologise. For being like Kreig, pushing too hard without explanation or reward. The soldier is silent for a while, before replying, but you see a new glimmer in their eyes, of understanding. They take first watch, and you drift off to sleep easily for the first time in recent memory.

Much progress has been made in the brotherhood's hunt for the institute, with the both or you being assigned more missions near constantly it seems someone has noticed your effectiveness as a team. You've heard whispers of rumours and caught the occasional stares drifting around the prydwen, but you pay them no mind, speculative gossip has never been of any interest to you, especially not something so obviously false as those rumours, that would be inappropriate after all. Your thoughts drift to the soldier, and realise just how much they have come to mean to you and how little you've told them anything about you, how could you have been so selfish after they have bared so much of their soul with you? Their life prewar, the death of their spouse at the hands of the cruel institute mercenary, the hunt for a way into the institute and their overwhelming fear at what they will find there. How much pressure they feel from everyone to be the perfect soldier, you sigh internally thinking about that, you owe them an apology it seems. With your mind made up now you just wait for them to return and for a suitably private moment to present itself. The opportunity arises later that day, they have just returned to the prydwen after a week away, and much to your surprise beeline straight for you with a smile before even turning in their documents or missions. They seem to be oblivious to the stares and raised eyebrows of the mess's other patrons, and a round of suitably authoritative glares ensures they will remain so. Brandis just smiles, damn him.

You warmly accept their request to join them on a routine acquisition for Haylen, but you know by now that no mission will ever be ‘routine’ with them, not that you mind the challenge. En-route to the target zone you cant stop thinking about what you are going to discuss with them, how will you open such a sensitive topic with them? Its been a substantial period of time since you’ve spoken to anyone about back then, not that you could ever forget him, after all how could you when he haunts your sleep like some sort of sorrowful spectre of loss, guilt and pain.

Lost in your ruminations as you are you nearly walk right into the Soldier as they signal ‘hold’ and ‘danger’. Snapping back to reality while cursing yourself for your inattentiveness internally, you spot the obvious threat almost immediately: a roving band of super-mutant scum and worse yet, a suicider. Outstanding. Your friend signals for stealth and for a flanking manoeuvre, you never did understand their insistence on such quiet methods when you both have access to power armour, but you’ve seen enough of their handwork enough to trust their tactics, even with their continual overestimation of your lacking stealth capabilities. As quietly and you can in full power armour you move into position on the opposite side of the pack to them, shoulder your rifle and wait for their signal. You can feel your heart rate quicken in time with the warming thrum from your charging laser rifle as the anticipation and adrenaline flips the switch to combat mode. They don’t keep you waiting long as a well placed laser volley from them sets off the unsuspecting suicider right in the middle of the pack. As the stragglers stupidly turn in the direction of the apparent danger you fire on their backs with deadly accuracy. With the element of surprise now used to its fullest, you charge into optimal combat range as one of the remaining brutes correctly picks you as the bigger threat, Good. Its better if you are the target. A few more well places shots from the both of you and its over as quickly as it started, “Outstanding!” you complement their marksmanship and tactics as they walk over. You notice of the charred abominations still writhing nearby and you put it out of its disgusting misery with a well placed stomp.

The Soldier shows you the location Haylen specified on their pip-boy, its just on the other side of this small commercial district, if the mission goes smoothly you could be back on the prydwen by nightfall, sharing a whisky to chase away the taste of messes’ latest attempt at dinner. You both freeze as you hear the distinctive sound of laser fire nearby, one look and you both move towards the commotion weapons hot. At the first sign of creepy plastic and blue lasers you charge with an “AD VICTORIAM!” but you barely get a round in before mini-gun fire tears through the remaining machines. After ensuring that they were in the clear you join the soldier as they approach the heavily armed newcomer. You meet the strangers glare with a level one of your own, before they can say anything your friend asks what they are doing here, “kicking ass, though it looks like HQ messed up scheduling again” the stranger answers. Ah this must be one of their minutemen acquaintances, you had heard they were getting more active lately, and poor organisation is expected from the civilian militia. The strangely dressed silver haired minuteman explains that the subway has been overrun with gen 1 synths, your friend offers to help, “it would be an Honor to assist in exterminating these abominations” you agree, though this earns you a strange look from the minuteman. No matter. Unbeknownst to you the Soldier and the minuteman share a significant look behind your back. No pathetic synths stand a chance against the three of you as heavily armoured as you all are, you briefly considered extending the minuteman an invitation to join the brotherhood, though you reconsider when they lament the ‘deaths’ of the machines, such a naive outlook would never be allowed to continue in the brotherhood, don't they know how dangerous synths are? With the battle dust settled, “damn!, you’re one ass-kicking angel of death” the stranger compliments your friend as you all backtrack to leave the dingy subway, “agreed, outstanding work as always” you contribute, they are positively beaming at the combined praise. The minutemen leaves with more crude but positive words, its good to see that the minutemen have at least some capable fighters on their side, it is a noble cause.

The target artifact is soon acquired with minor resistance from some more mutants, but the hour is too late to return to the prydwen now. They suggest that a settlement nearby will be a safe place to camp for the night, you agree, and privately hope that the arrangements will be secluded enough for the difficult conversation you have planned. A short walk in the dark later and you both arrive at the small nursery and are immediately accosted by a group of hysterical settlers. Eventually the soldier calms them down enough to learn the location of the kidnapped one, an older man. The mutants are just across the road as it turns out, why on earth they have tolerated living a stones throw from these monstrosities for so long is a mystery, but at least the proximity makes for a brutally quick rescue, you both use the night to you advantage and the monsters are dead before they can even take up arms. The man is injured so you carry him, trusting your friend to have your backs on the way back to the settlement. You mentally resolve to make significant note of how much mutant and synth activity there is in this region in the next mission report. With the settler returned, sustenance and a semi-secure place to set up camp for the night acquired (to be continued oops, 1/4 affinity talks written, the 4th being romance dialog)

[danses-with-dogmeat]

🦀👑 'was that your first kiss?' for Danse please 🥺

You are a GENIUS

I love this so much, I actually can't--

Thanks so much for giving me an excuse to write this 😅

I hope you love it!

"Here. I wanted you to have this."

Danse's voice was low as he reached towards you, a parcel in his hands that he'd produced from behind his back. It was a medium-sized box, carefully wrapped in newspaper, with a tidy silver bow on top. You grinned at him as you took the gift from his tentative grasp.

A blush was slowly spreading across the ex-paladin's cheeks, but you tried not to make it obvious that you'd noticed this evidence of his nerves.

"T-thank you, Danse, but... What is this for, exactly?"

You'd only come home from a minuteman assignment, only been gone a little over an afternoon. It wasn't your birthday, or any other significant holiday, as far as you knew.

"Well, I... It's just a 'thank you,' of sorts, I suppose." One hand went up to scratch at the back of his neck as Danse's eyes refused to meet your own. "I wasn't sure how to repay you-- if I ever even could, for everything that you've done for me all this time. This was just a way, I thought, to let you know how much I appreciate it all."

Your smile only broadened at his words, but still, you didn't move to open it quite yet.

"I don't need you to say thank you," You told him gently, "I would've helped you. No matter what, I hope you know that."

Danse swallowed hard, his dark eyebrows knitting together over his downturned gaze.

"But still," You continued, moving a hand to lightly touch his forearm, "I do appreciate it."

He stiffened a bit at the contact, but nodded in understanding and didn't pull away completely.

"Now, come here. Might as well make ourselves comfortable instead of just standing here in the doorway." Your hand slid down to grasp with his gingerly as you pulled him to the living room couch to take a seat, setting the giftbox onto the worn coffee table in front of you.

"Alrighty, here we go." Your fingers twiddled with excitement as you removed the paper from the box with as much care as you could muster. You didn't want to ruin his perfect little wrapping-job, after all.

You could swear Danse held his breath the whole while, even as you pried open the edges of the carboard box within, and pulled out the... piece of metal?

"I... I love this, Danse, I really do." You said slowly as you turned the thing around in your hands, your gaze studious as you examined the strange item. "I just..."

You were at a loss.

"Um... what is it?"

When you turned to him, Danse's eyes were wide.

He swallowed hard again, and cleared his throat before answering.

"It's a... a modification. For Righteous Authority. I noticed that you still tend to use the weapon quite frequently, but that you hadn't made any changes to it over the time it's been in your possession." His fingers began to fidget as his eyes wandered to and fro, still avoiding your own like they'd set him ablaze if he looked too long. "And... I also noticed that you tend to use it as more of a ranged weapon than I did when I modified it for myself, so... in your hands is a fine-tuned beam focuser, which allows for better range without sacrificing accuracy and keeping recoil relatively mild."

You blinked at him as Danse reached forward for the box.

"A-and still inside is an overcharged capacitor. Which will give you much greater power and ammo capacity. I can install them later, but... I wanted to surprise you while not leaving you unarmed."

"Wow, this is... I really do love it, Danse. You know what I need more than I do." You chuckled as your fingers pressed over the shiny, cool metal, admiring the way it shone in the dim light of the room.

"Well... The same could be said about me." Danse said quietly, "When you helped me through... well, everything. When I'd thought of every option, or believed I'd considered every course of action that was possible, and then you showed up, and... You changed everything. Made the impossible, possible. You saved my... My life." His voice began faltering slightly by the end of it as he continued looking down between the two of you, his gaze resting on the couch cushions below.

"This was a small token of gratitude to say the least, but... It's what I could offer. I just hope that it's enough to express how grateful I am. How much you... you mean to me."

Slowly, you set down the... capacitor? Or was it the focuser? Either way, you set down the specialized piece of laser rifle modification back onto the table, freeing your hands as you turned on the couch to better face your companion.

You waited until his gaze finally tore away from the couch, and slowly, jerkily, made its way up to meet yours as he took in your movement; and then reached out your arms and steadily moved forward to pull him into a tight embrace.

All movement from the ex-paladin ceased as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. It was like hugging a warm statue, with how stiff and still he was throughout, and yet, he made no move to pull away.

A moment passed, and briefly the thought of releasing him passed through your mind, but just as the consideration entered your consciousness, Danse's hands raised to return the tender gesture, and you felt him release a breath, relaxing into your contact as his fingers tightened over your back and shoulder.

"You mean a lot to me too, Danse." You whispered to him through the hug.

"You have for a long time, and... I know this has all been difficult-- beyond difficult, since everything happened, but I want you to know how strong you've been. It's... been an inspiration to me, and to Haylen, and Preston, and countless others."

He released another deep breath, this one shakier than the last, as he clung to you even more tightly.

"And I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here. That you made it through all of that, that you stayed in the Commonwealth... Stayed with me. I know it can't be easy..."

"You... you make it easier." Danse said back, his voice barely more than a breath. "Sole, truly, I could have never made it out of this alive if it weren't for you."

He pulled away now, carefully unwinding his arms from around you, but allowing his fingers to drag lightly over your skin as he sat back to look you in the eye.

His own were almost glossy with emotion, and you felt something in your chest jump at his expression. At the affection you found there, the appreciation, the...

Am I just seeing things?

You blinked, but when your eyes opened again, that emotion was still there, strong as ever.

It was the way Nate/Nora had looked at you so often, the way your family looked at you when you returned home, the way your own eyes appeared when looking down at a peacefully sleeping Shaun.

At least, you could swear, you saw love in his expression.

And god... did that mean... could he see it in yours? It must have been there. You'd been in love with the man long enough to know he should be able to see it, but as tactically perceptive as Danse was, emotions weren't always his specialty.

Without a second consideration from the sane part of your mind, you leant forward, closing your eyes as your hand fell to his wrist, and as your lips touched his.

Danse's pulse was racing beneath the touch of your fingers, and just as had been true with the hug, he was still as stone as you pushed further into the kiss, the softness of your lips a stark contrast to the firmness of his own. Like a gentle wave meeting a rocky shoreline, slowly, the feeling seeped through the cracks and sunk into him, and Danse finally reciprocated. He tilted his head opposite yours, experimenting almost awkwardly, still with stiff lips and a clumsy movement of his hand reaching up to hold the base of your neck mechanically. You allowed his touch to pull you in further though, your lips kneading against his, coaxing the rigidness out of them as best you could, in an attempt to communicate every feeling that had just passed through you, and trying to get him to do the same. All of this whilst earnestly hoping that you hadn't misread things between the two of you.

Your head jolted in surprise, as you heard a soft sigh escape Danse's throat, something heating deep within you at the pleasured sound.

Then, just as soon as you began it, Danse ended the kiss, pulling back swiftly as he regained himself.

Your eyes blinked open, an apology ready and waiting on your tongue, before it was swept away by the shear redness of your companion's face. His blush would've put a tato to shame, and the wideness of his amber eyes resembled that of a pair of melons. Now, it was all you could do to keep from laughing at the absurd look.

"Is everything okay? I... I mean, was that alright?" You managed to ask without too much levity in your voice.

Danse was petrified, his mouth still partially open as his eyes stared at some nothingness, far in the distance.

"Danse?" You tried, and some semblance of the ex-paladin seemed to return to him at the sound of his name.

"I, ah... ahem." He shook his head, almost comically, before clearing his throat for the umpteenth time since the start of this talk of yours.

"What... did we?" He began, but never quite finished the question, just looked at you in confusion.

"I kissed you, yeah." Now it was your turn to blush, as your eyes failed to meet his. "I'm sorry if that wasn't what you were expecting, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just..."

"No!" He said too quickly, too loudly, cringing instantly as he realized the way the word had left him. "No. It didn't. I was a little surprised, yes, and maybe reacted differently than I would've like to, but... It's only because, well... I've never really... um..."

He trailed off, and suddenly a light clicked in your mind.

"Wait, Danse... was that your first kiss?"

His eyes widened again, the flushed look of his cheeks that had began to slowly vanish redoubled in their efforts to turn the whole of his face that deep crimson once more.

"I-I-- Well..."

You smiled at him, feeling relief on your end that any perceived awkwardness on his part perhaps merely came from inexperience, and not from the possibility that he hadn't wanted to kiss you at all.

"It's okay, it's... I shouldn't have asked it like that, I'm sorry."

He seemed to relax a little at that.

"And I shouldn't have done it so abruptly, I just... I've been holding onto my feelings for you for so long, and I just couldn't seem to bottle them up any--"

"Y-your feelings for me?" Danse interrupted, but his voice stayed soft, non-accusatory, more... curious. "But how... With everything you know about me, about who-- what I am, how could you still..."

"Love you?" You finished for him.

Danse's eyes widened again, almost as if he was just realizing exactly what you were getting at.

As if you hadn't been trying to communicate it for weeks leading up to this.

You shook your head slightly, an evidence of your own disbelief, and smiled at him.

"With everything I know about you, Danse, how could I not?"

[hearteyedbunny]

Growing Pains

danse/art

wrote a lil thing of danse taking care of arty. i have bad pain days of my own so i wanted to project and vent thru arty. also for context they are at red rocket. enjoy <3

The wooden rocking chair creaked as Artemis plopped into it, the bottom of his cane clinking against the hard, concrete floor and echoing throughout the garage. He sighed exasperatedly, using his foot to gently rock himself as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

His peace was soon interrupted, albeit not rudely, as the ex-paladin passed by, poking his head into the open door of the garage to check on the other. Artemis thought it cute how Danse always seemed to end up in the same location as him, like he was a lost puppy following him around.

“Hi.”

“Hey, Danse,” Artemis rocked gently, his voice soft as he kept his eyes closed.

“Something the matter?” Danse had fully stepped into the garage now. If Artemis had opened his eyes he would’ve seen Danse looking at him concerningly with those big brown eyes of his.

“...’m alright. Leg is just acting up again.”

“Could I assist you with that?”

Artemis didn’t answer right away. His eyes slowly blinked open as he peered up at the other man, who was looking down at him with his usually stern face, although his thick eyebrows were scrunched in concern. Artemis smiled gently at that. Danse was always so charmingly expressive, even if he didn’t realize it most of the time.

“I’ll be alright, babe. It’s just one of those days.”

“I want to help,” Danse’s heart leapt at the term of endearment. He still wasn’t used to being referred to in such an endearing way, especially from someone like Artemis. He didn’t dislike it, he just needed time to adjust to it.

“I won’t stop you, but you don’t have to worry so much about me. Been dealin’ with it for years,” He shifted his leg slightly, wincing as pain shot up his body.

“I know,” Danse was already down on the ground, sitting himself comfortably on the cold floor as he started to work Artemis’ boots off his feet, “But we’re…partners. I want to help you. Especially considering everything you’ve done for me.”

Artemis chuckled at Danse’s hesitance to call him his partner. He supposed they hadn’t quite reached ‘boyfriend’, but he could settle for ‘partner’ for the time being.

“So you’re just paying back a debt?” He jested, watching as Danse slipped his boots off and tentatively placed them to the side, shoelaces tucked neatly inside of them.

“Not at all,” Danse pressed his thumb firmly into the sole of Artemis’ left foot, letting up slightly when he noticed Artemis wincing at the pressure, “I’m simply showing my appreciation.”

Artemis only hummed in response, fluttering his eyes shut once more and leaning back in his chair, relaxing as much as he could as Danse took over.

They stayed in relative silence for a few long moments, the only noises being Artemis’ soft murmurs of appreciation and Danse’s occasional ‘like this?’ as he worked his hands along Artemis’ leg. Every time Artemis would simply nod his head in response, the pain radiating along his leg and up into his thigh subduing slightly at Danse’s touch. It wouldn’t last long, but the short relief was more than welcome.

At some point, Artemis’ grip softened on the cane in his hand, causing it to drop to the floor with a loud ‘clang’ against the hard floor. He grumbled, cursing under his breath and beginning to adjust himself to pick it up.

“It’s alright. Don’t move,” Danse paused his massage for a moment, picking up the cane that had fallen to the ground and placing it neatly next to Artemis’ boots.

“Thanks,” Artemis mumbled, relaxing back into his chair with a sigh through his nose, “You know, I really like this chair.”

“You do?” Danse looked up at him, his hands resuming their work. His thumbs working themselves into his knee made Artemis hum in appreciation.

“Yeah. I’m glad you built it,” Artemis looked tired, but his words seemed genuine. 

Danse remembered when he had built it. He had been bored, seemingly having much less to keep him occupied since he left the Brotherhood. He had already done as many repairs on the little rest stop as he could, and he could only tinker so much with his power armor. His pacing must have annoyed Artemis, because the man had yelled at him to find something to do, anything but pacing around and making him nervous. So Danse had found some spare wood lying around and got to work. He hadn’t known at the time exactly what he was working toward, but a chair seemed like the best outcome. He figured it would be nice to have some more furniture around their makeshift home, and it occupied him enough to keep out of Artemis’ hair.

“I could build you another,” Danse finally smiled up at him, leaning forward and pressing a small, chaste kiss to the leg in his hands, the material of his pants bunching up where Danse pressed his lips.

“What, so we can sit in our rocking chairs on the porch like an old married couple?” His lips quirked up into an amused smirk as he glanced down at Danse.

“Do people do that?” Danse asked the question genuinely, tilting his head slightly to the side almost like a dog.

“Used to. In my time,” Artemis tentatively stretched his leg out, his pain dull for the moment. Danse was just softly running his hand over the underside of his leg, “Sounds nice, having nothin’ to worry about.”

“I suppose it does,” Danse agreed, although he didn’t enjoy the thought of sitting for hours on end. He was never good at keeping still for long, he always seemed to need something to do, “How is your pain?”

“Better,” He grumbled quietly, seemingly struggling to keep his eyes open, “Probably need to rest. You mind if I close my eyes for a while?” That always seemed to be Artemis code for ‘I need a nap.’

“Not at all. I’m sure Dogmeat and I can hold down the fort,” Danse gave Artemis’ leg one last little rub with his thumb before he rose to his feet, grabbing a nearby blanket hanging across the power armor workstation. Ever since Danse had built the chair and moved it into the garage, Artemis had taken countless naps here, so it was better to leave any spare blankets in here just for that reason.

“Thanks, Danse,” Artemis muttered as the blanket was carefully draped across him, the gentle motion making his chest ache in the best way possible. He still wasn’t used to the sort of loving, domestic relationship they had fallen into over time. It wasn’t perfect, they weren’t perfect, but he appreciated it more than words could express. He wanted to say more, to thank Danse for more than just the massage, more than just the chair, more than just the blanket, but his tongue always seemed to get twisted up. A simple thank you would suffice for now, it seemed.

“Of course,” Danse was smiling that sweet smile at him, the kind that made his eyes soften and his forehead crinkle up. The kind of smile that seemed so genuine and so specifically for Artemis himself, “Try to get some rest, Artemis. I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

[plushyvi]

"hard luck, blues!" — prologue!

game: fallout 4

character: arthur maxson

summary: searching for his parents’ killer, arthur maxson escapes vault 49 with vengeance in his veins. meanwhile, you’re busy trying to keep the commonwealth together through the brotherhood of steel. while your goals are completely different, your lives converge, and it seems like fate chose it to stay that way.

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, second person pov, spoilers for the bos and main timeline in fo4, main masterlist here

taglist: @hrefna-the-raven

you stare at the vault dweller, who clutches onto his pip-boy quite tightly around the various power armour wearing knights surrounding him. he stood at 5’10 with a dirty blue suit that anyone could recognise here in the commonwealth. you didn’t know what kind of stupid he was wearing that in public.

not only that, but he had this look in his eyes that was shadowed by hatred. it just screamed that he has never stepped outside before. surely he had convinced a few people he was a local wastelander, but you were not so easily fooled.

your trusted soldier, paladin danse, stands at your side as you watch a knight, out of armour, brings him down to his knees in front of you. the dweller lands with a grunt and tries to yank the knight off of him.

“he was caught by scribe haylen, ma’am,” danse informs you, “while going to recover the power armour you sent us to find, we stumbled upon this individual taking it apart.”

the man doesn’t even attempt to reject that idea or defend himself.

“what’s your name?” you question him as you tilt your head. the veritbird behind you blew wind into his face and made your long leather coat flow against you.

“why do you need to know?” he spits back.

“because i need to know the name of the roach who tried to steal power armour from one of my soldiers,” you respond. he glares at the ground. “answer now, or i will strip you of all your weaponry and technology. my scribes would have a field day with that pip-boy of yours.”

he looks up at after that threat. a scar adorns his cheek, slightly covered by the beard he was growing. by the crease of his brows, you can tell that he’s been through some tough stuff. you recognise the look in his eyes as that of a man on a mission.

“afraid of what we’d find on there?” you chime. the man furrows his brows. “hand it over.”

the knight attempts to unlatch the pip-boy from the man’s wrist, but the dweller only fights back. he manages to hook an elbow around the knight’s head and flip him over. in the rush, he draws his gun and aims it at the knight’s head. you hold up a hand to stop the guns from shooting towards him.

that only solidifies your hypothesis on who this man was. everyone has heard about him by now.

“knight rhys!” danse shouts as he holds up his laser rifle. he waits for your command.

“you hold no cards here,” you explain with a huff, “what do you gain out of killing one of my soldiers, other than becoming an enemy of the brotherhood?”

“i don’t even know who you people are.” he tells you.

“you’re the vault dweller that killed kellog,” you speak up. the man freezes as his eyes widen a little at you. “you are, aren’t you? diamond city quick to spread the news around.”

“i was justified,” he claims as he slowly stands up and puts his weapon in its holster. the knight lifts himself up and holds his shoulder as he steps away. “you don’t know what he did.”

“kellog has been on my record for years now,” you explain, “and you suddenly brought an end to him? i have a hard time believing i shouldn’t pay attention to you.”

“my name is arthur maxson,” he tells you in a loud voice for all to hear, “i’m after the institute.”

“then we have similar goals.”

there’s a silence between the two of you as your soldiers lower their weapons. you’re considering what you should do with him. but you look to danse.

“paladin, what do you think of his fighting? i’m sure you’ve had time to evaluate,” you say to the man in armour, “what is your verdict?”

he doesn't seem surprised by your question. the brotherhood knew you as one of the more lenient (as much as you could be in your position) elders of the brotherhood. anyone you deemed fit enough, you would allow them to prove themselves in the brotherhood.

“he is an exceptional fighter. we were caught by ghouls and instead of running away after he got caught, he stayed and fended them off with us.” danse briefly explains to you.

“would you sponsor him?”

“if he abided by the laws of the brotherhood and were more cooperative, perhaps.”

“hm,” you hum out with your hands in your coat. you purse your lips, not impressed. “i suppose this is a waste of time, then. if you aren’t able to follow instructions, then you are useless to our cause. gather the armour, we are heading back to the prydwen. i want a sample of his remains for proctor quinlan to assess — those vaults are crazy. and i don’t condone stealing from the brotherhood.”

you order everyone. they begin to file into their respective vertibirds. some of the knight raise their weapon, safety off.

“i cannot work with someone so… unhinged.” you sigh as you step onto the vertibird.

“wait!”

you glance to maxson. the knights stop closing in.

“bring me with you.”

you raise a brow at him. the man squared his shoulders and clenched his fists.

“i promise that if i am with the brotherhood, i will help you take down the institute. i have gotten further than i believe anyone else has to uncovering their secret,” he claims. he says it with such certainty that you’re almost sure of it yourself. “you need to find them too, right? we should work together.”

you sit on the vertibird and consider it. he seemed to be dead-set on finding the institute and he was right — no one else has ever got as close as he has. looking at him again, you could picture him as a member of the brother of steel. but your doubt outweighs it.

danse, who sits in front of you, clears his throat to grab your attention.

“if you allow me, elder,” he speaks up, “i will have him under my supervision. it was me who brought him to you, so i feel so responsible.”

“hm, you’re lucky, maxson,” you turn your head to the vault dweller who stands there nervously, “paladin danse is a well-respected soldier of mine. if he didn’t vouch for you, i’m afraid you would’ve been left here in bones.”

maxson swallows his fears as he waits for your response.

“i will take you in as an initiate, and you will be allocated to paladin danse’s team,” you explain to him with crossed arms, “i will be watching you closely, soldier. don’t disappoint me.”

he lets out a short breath as he nods his head. knights then escort him to your vertibird as ordered to. you have this condescending smile on your face as he sits across from you. danse stands at the mounted gun.

the vehicle lifts off towards the prydwen, the metal ship in the sky that awes maxson. he’s never seen something so amazing. not even 200 years ago. you watch him as he gawks at the ship.

“the prydwen is where i am situated most times,” you tell maxson with a leg over your knee, “i was only on the ground since paladin danse told me to go for evaluation. consider yourself blessed."

he couldn't make up your character even if he wanted to. someone so patronising and vain was able to reach such high ranks (maxson didn't even know what you were) of some big organisation? he could hardly believe it. he first thought danse was the leader.

you watch him scan his surroundings before he holds onto his seat as the vertibird is latched to the prydwen and was pulled up.

although you'd never admit it, you were... intrigued by the vault dweller. it was like a new experiment for you, having him join the brotherhood. you smile to yourself.

you hear danse get off the vertibird and do so as well. maxson is hesitant before paladin danse commands him off of it. you march towards your own second in command on the prydwen. he salutes you before his eyes fall on the blue-wearing man behind you and in front of danse.

"elder l/n. it is good to see you return."

"thank you, captain kells." you respond with the nod of your head, “this is arthur maxson, he is our newest initiate. paladin danse is keeping an eye on him.”

your captian doesn't look surprised in the slightest at your statement, but it's when his eyes land on maxson's vault suit that he tilts his head. kells stands up straighter, gaze hardened. you nod your head and begin on your way to your office.

“i have some things to discuss with the proctors. kells, if you will, help maxson get familiar with the ship.” you order as you walk passed the new soldier.

"welcome aboard the prydwen," captain kells says to maxson as other soldiers begin to file onto the ship, "and welcome to the brotherhood, initiate."

maxson looks around at the security and the scribes working on the deck. it looked strong enough to hold everyone in the air, but it was also a mechanical feat on it's own. he’s never seen anything remotely like this. captain kells clears his throat.

“are there any questions you have for me?” he asks.

“where can i get power armour?” is the first thing maxson asks.

“only knights have clearance,” kells responds, “and you are not yet a knight. until elder l/n grants you that rank, you will not be allowed power armour.”

“i will be keeping a close eye on you for that reason, soldier,” paladin danse claims as he glares down at maxson, “per elder l/n’s request, you are under my supervision for the time being. your actions will affect me as well. think about the brotherhood before acting.”

maxson only nods his head before he follows the captain into the prydwen. it’s much warmer than outside and maxson can feel the heaviness in the atmosphere. the knight that stood outside your office and scribes did check ups on the walls to see how it faired on the trip to the commonwealth. paladin danse excused himself to talk to you about the plans with maxson.

on the way down the stairs to meet kells’ team, the new initiate watched you. you tugged on the buckle at your front as you sat on one of the seats in your office. danse, in his power armour, stood before you. with a leg over your knee and crossed arms, you talk to danse.

your attention set on him only. maxson watched as you spoke silent words about him. if anyone else was doing so, he’d have their head.

maxson is given a tour of the prydwen and the proctors (teagan finding it funny how he was caught stealing power armour and now could possibly own one). meanwhile, danse finishes giving you a more detailed report.

“i heard that you came across a deathclaw before finding maxson,” you say as you toss him some purified water, “and i see that you’ve found something special in that initiate. you haven’t sponsored a soldier before.”

“yes, that is correct. i believe that maxson could be a great asset with his fighting,” danse responds as he holds the bottle, “i just have questions about his emergence from the vault.”

“as do i,” you sigh out. you stare outside the window. “not many people are willing to help vault dwellers — and even less number of dwellers are willing to leave their homes. i want to know why he is after the institute.”

“do you believe he has ulterior motives, ma’am?”

“possibly,” you state, “i would like to hear it from him first. regardless, you are to monitor him. i would like all information, paladin.”

“understood, elder l/n.” he responds before leaving you alone.

you stand up and press your hands against the rails in front of yours windows. you could feel the enemies of the brotherhood lurking beneath. super mutants, synths and ferals running rampant. when you were given this part of the wasteland, you vowed to do your job, no matter what it takes.

if you had to use a singular vault dweller to do that, so be it.

who knows — maybe he will prove to be more useful alive than in a ditch lifeless.

you hear back from the other scribes on the ground throughout the rest of the day and gather all your intel. you begin to map out all the camps of super mutants, raiders, synth locations and other enemies to keep in mind for your next move. it’s late into the night and you’ve sent all your commanders to their quarters and the night soldiers from kells’ team overtakes to keep the ship security.

so you think it’s strange that when you head towards your quarters, you see movement in the power armour bay.

“maxson,” you sigh out as you cross your arms over your chest, “i believe i made myself clear on my rules on power armour.”

the vault dweller steps away from danse’s armour. you watch him carefully push the fusion core back into the slot and walk towards you. he stops a few feet away as you hold up your pistol towards him.

“i want your full story, now,” you demand. he hardens his glare towards your figure, which makes you roll your eyes and sit yourself down on top the weapons bench. “you tell me what you’re doing in the commonwealth trying to find the institute, and i won’t empty a mag in you.”

he hesitates to come closer once you take off the safety on your weapon. you tilt your head at him and wait for him to start.

“the vault i’m from performed an experiment to see how we would fare against wasteland creatures,” he explains to you, “ever since the bombs dropped, families were kept inside and acted like it was a normal vault. but then, when i was just a kid, we were locked in large portion of the vault where mirelurks and deathclaws were released.”

you knew those vaults were crazy, which is why you never allowed any of your soldiers to go down there unless necessary.

“those vile creatures loomed down every hall, and at the start, so many of us had died. we had to go from vault dwellers living the lavish life, to fighters in a night. it was the biggest and fastest change we have ever had to make.”

he stares at you and how your gun doesn’t falter. you hold it up against him and listen.

“there were no weapons, other than steak knives. we had to create our own,” he informed you, “we had to learn how to defend ourselves from the onslaught of creatures that multiplied as the days went on. last week, the doors opened on its own and i was the only one who survived the first day.”

“that doesn’t explain your connection with the institute,” you state, “if you’re looking for vengeance, vault-tec barely survived themselves. i’d say to let it go and focus in yourself.”

“no, not vault-tec,” he spits back, “my parents suddenly went missing a year after the experiment began. the only reason those doors opened was because we had killed every single mirelurk and deathclaw in the vault and ‘passed’, and once we gained access to the security cameras, i saw kellogg’s face clear as day. i got all the information i needed to decide that it was the institute that took them. for whatever reason. and i plan on finding my parents and finishing the institute off.”

you stare at him for a few seconds before you let out a sigh and slide your pistol back into its holster. maxson feels a weight be lifted off his shoulder.

“i’ll help only because we share the same goal,” you state, “but you need to prove yourself to be an asset to the brotherhood. if you cannot, i will let you go, but know that you will be constantly monitored. refusal to cooperate then will deem you an enemy, and i will still look forward to dissembling that pip-boy of yours.”

he braces the technology against his chest as he nods slowly. a smile dawns on your lips.

“it’s good that you can listen.” you hum out. he clicks his tongue and looks away. “now, go back to your bed, initiate. i can assure you no harm will come to you if you sleep; i keep my soldiers in order.”

you stand up straight and rub your neck.

“sleep well, initiate,” you say, “i have an important mission for you in the morning.”

he doesn’t say anything back to you as you walk back to your room. you didn’t ask him to move first, not even thinking about maxson going to attack you. did you really have that much trust in him already?

he does as you say, though, and he walks back to his bed. there are sleeping scribes surrounding him, and a few knights stand at attention at the higher and lowest levels. maxson can't help but feel in danger as he lays back down. these people could attack him at any moment, at your command. when he finally feels his eyes go heavy, it's about an hour after you talked to him.

he can't get the image of you out of his mind.

it wasn't infatuation — it was fear.