#NV fanfic

[nivalvixen]

Do you know how many chapters Mother Nature is going to be ??

I'd like to think I'd have it completed by chapter 250, but I also didn't think I'd go over 200 chapters, so ... I have no idea!

When their story comes to a natural end, I'll stop writing ^_^

[nivalvixen]

“Please, miss. Please.”

Looking through the door frame’s window shows a small child, sobbing and crying. Odd, that usually happens after they’ve seen my face. The old house in the woods is an exile and a haven where I am free to live how I please, even if the rumours and sight of me makes children (and some adults) cry.

“Please, miss; I’ve lost my echo.”

Oh. Oh, no. Oh, shit.

“Uh, that’s no good, kid. Where are your parents?”

The sniffling and wailing continues to a point that the cat hisses in annoyance and wanders off.

I sigh and check one more time, then open the door and let the sobbing child inside. They’re small, barely tall enough to reach my hip, and immediately clings to my leg. Now I’m the one hissing in annoyance, but don’t have the same luxury of being able to leave.

“All right, that’s enough. Come in, sit by the fire, and tell me where you lost your echo.”

The how and why isn’t as important, echoes are easily lost if one isn’t careful, and children are rarely careful with something like an echo. It means nothing until they’ve lost it.

Sobs rack the tiny body, and I guess I have to move after all. It’s an awkward hobbling gait from the front door to the chairs by the fire, but by the time I’ve made it, the tears have finally tapered off. Rubbing their eyes, the child accepts the water but doesn’t drink yet.

I sit across from them, looking over their reddened eyes, golden curls, and the way the fire reflects in their eyes. “Where did you lose your echo, child?”

The child sniffles and I’m concerned there will be another onslaught of tears, but then answers, “In the valley. We... we stopped for a picnic. Where are my parents? Please, miss.“

The valley is one of the worst places to lose their echo and the locals know to whisper. This child, fancy clothes and a foreign tilt to their words, is likely one who was travelling through and didn’t know better.

“All right. We’ll look for your parents in the morning. There’s not enough light and - “

My words are interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Please, miss. Please.”

In the valley where words echo and bounce off walls, they multiply over and over, much to the amusement of children and adults alike, if they’re unaware of the consequences. As they can multiply, so too can echoes.

I look back at the child - the echo of a child - and realise I shouldn’t have opened my door quite so soon.

Text: Children are usually frightened of me, but this one begs to come in, inconsolable. He has lost his echo somewhere in the forest, and we all know how easily echoes go feral.

[faembrosia]

GOOD NEWS, EVERYONE!

I wrote the movie-level romantic speech.

🪿♥️💀

And it's gonna be 🔥good🔥

[radroachmeat]

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Fanfic - The Clumsy Little Maid, The Heiress' Hobby, and a Little Gossip

Tessa was reading in the library one stormy morning, she hummed to herself happily as she looked over Van Gogh paintings in a book about the painter's life.

"Ouch!" a little voice called out from somewhere.

The ebony haired girl looked up from her book, scanning the room with her grey eyes to see who was with her.

No one she could see.

Tessa flipped the page of the book to her favourite painting, Starry Night. She marveled at the work in the pages, dreaming about how pretty it would look in real life.

"Oh biscuits!" a sweet little lady's voice echoed from around the corner.

Tessa closed the book and stood up. She walked around the corner and saw a bespectacled worker drone, the hairtie holding the drone's wig back into a low bun had snapped and now the drone was trying to work with her hair hanging to her elbows.

The little drone's wig was stuck in the joints connecting to her shoulders, she worriedly stared at Tessa, flinching slightly.

Tessa knelt down on the floor, getting lower than the drone girl. "Hey there... I remember you. You're V, right?"

V stopped flinching, she looked to the Elliott heiress and nodded shyly.

Tessa pushed V's bangs away from her LED eyes as she soothed, "It looks like you're having a bad hairday." She insisted happily with a smile, "Tell you what, V, we're going to turn this hair don't into a hair do, that is if you trust me," she held out her hand invitingly, her grey eyes twinkling with respect and care.

V accepted the girl's hand, she smiled shyly and said sweetly, "I'm willing to trust you, Miss Tessa."

Tessa got up and lead V back to her room.

V had only been before to Tessa's room to change the linens or to bring up fresh laundry for the girl. She made her way over to the vanity desk against the wall.

The Elliott's daughter pulled a round ottoman-style seat out from below the vanity desk and patted the seat.

The bespectacled drone sat down on the chair comfortably. She glanced back, asking timidly, "D-do I get to pick what it looks like?"

"Of course, V, dear!" Tessa insisted cheerfully before she started looking for the sewing scissors she had stolen from her mother for hairstyling. She opened the drawer full of bows, hairties, and other accessories and started to rummage through the back of the drawer. Tessa's hands grazed over the spot she had put them last. "Crap!" the ebony haired girl whispered to herself, "Mother must have taken them back,"

The worker drone sitting on the lavender ottoman pulled out of her pocket Tessa's ill-gotten sewing scissors. She sheepishly admitted with a smile, "Last time I did the dusting in here, I saw they were a bit dull, so I sharpened them up for you," before she handed the scissors gently to the grey-eyed human girl.

Tessa accepted the scissors graciously with a little, "Thank you, V" before she assessed where the sweet little maid bot's hair was snagged. "Oh dear, that's quite dreadfully high up," the ebony haired girl worriedly noted out-loud before asking, "Longest I could do is a nice bob."

V smoothed her hands over a section of hair that hung down at the right side of her face, asking worriedly, "Do you think I'd still look pretty?" She let go of her hair and rested her hands upon the cupcake-style skirt of her dress

Tessa made eye contact with the pretty silver-eyed drone sitting in front of her in the mirror, lightly pinching the section of hair that V was using to self-soothe, before she explained happily, "Oh definitely, shoulder length is very cute! You might catch the eye of one of the butlers," she let go of the section of hair, looking away bashfully as she twirled at a section of her own ebony hair as she giggled, "Or maybe another maid, if you're into that," as Tessa was thinking of a drone that made her heart all a flutter.

V looked away, her LED display showed blush marks as she sheepishly admitted, "Well... there's this one butler..."

Tessa opened the scissors and placed them angled slightly at the chunk of hair that was stuck in V's shoulder joint. "Oh, well, is he handsome?"

V's tense shoulder relaxed a little, her shyness melted away a bit as she responded cheerfully, "Oh he is! He's so sweet and we love reading together."

"Sounds like a total catch, why haven't you made a move yet darl?" the ebony haired unprofessional-stylist asked, lining up the scissors for the next snip to try to cut the rest free.

V was having fun, she gossiped back, "I don't know, what if I'm not enough woman... er... I guess drone for his liking."

Tessa pocketed her scissors before she lightly squeezed her new maid drone friend's shoulders. "Well then he's a daft dingo and missing out on you would be his loss,"

V giggled at Tessa's advice. She looked in the mirror to her new human friend, trilling happily, watching Tessa bring the scissors back out to continue her work, "Hey, how come you are nice when your folks aren't very kind?" Her auditory sensors were now used to the snipping, actually enjoying the sound as well as the lessening of the weight on her head.

Tessa admitted as she point snipped the tresses at the back of V's wig, letting long chunks of silver hair drop like ribbons, "I mean, why not be nice? And you drones are so nice and sweet and kind and caring," before she scorned sadly while taking a break from her barbering, "Mother and Father and their work friends are mean and vile, and then they have ulterior motives in the times when they are nice."

V felt bad for Tessa and reassured kindly, "I'm glad you're not like that, then, Miss Tessa-I mean.. Tessa"

She apologized softly, "Sorry for my vitriol, I just have more patience with drones, they are much more pleasant friends and clients." Tessa smiled, she brought back out her shears and resumed snipping off more length, enjoying partaking in her hobby but also enjoying the company of another friendly drone. She asked as she gently pulled free the sections of hair that were stuck in V's shoulder joints, "So tell me more about your crush."

"Well, he is one of the only butlers with hair."

Tessa joked playfully with a laugh, "Oh my gosh, you mean N, don't date my robot," but upon seeing some worry start to appear in V's expression she continued, "Or maybe you should, he could use someone else to spend time with besides Cyn and I." She finished cutting V's hair and dusted off the drone's shoulders. Tessa sang in a sweet voice, "There we are! Nice and short, but not too short."

V looked at her new cut and inquired, "Are you able to curl the ends slightly, so it won't get caught again?"

"Oh absolutely! Were you thinking of it flicking outwards like this?" Tessa gently held a section of V's hair, letting the ends of the section flare outwards.

"Inwards would be cuter I think," the bespectacled maid suggested, she crossed her ankles cutely.

Tessa giggled as she got out the stolen curling iron from another drawer in the vanity desk, "Whatever you'd like, either way you're going to look divine, V, dear!"

N approached Tessa's bedroom door, it was almost noon-tea and he was coming to ask her what kind of snack she would want with her strawberry tea. He saw the door was open and stepped in seeing Tessa spraying hairspray onto a drone's lush lovely wig. "Oh! Another client for Salon De Tessa?" N giggled excitedly before seeing the client turn to face him. "Oh my biscuits!" he exclaimed excitedly as the maid caught his gaze.

"Oh, hey N..." V sheepishly giggled as she nervously fidgeted with her apron's lace, "Tessa gave me a new haircut, wh-what do you think?"

N stammered a bit, having trouble finding the words which caused Tessa to giggle at his cuteness. "Wow you're pretty!" he finally managed to blurt out while blushing.

Tessa insisted to V, "See? I told you it was going to suit you nicely."

V hopped off the chair and went to start sweeping up the hair on the floor.

The Elliott heiress knelt down, intentionally getting in the way as she insisted, "You and N go spend time together, I'll clean it up."

V hugged the ebony-haired girl tightly and whispered a 'thank you' to her before she took N's hand and dragged him away.

Tessa giggled happily as she cleaned up the chunks of hair on the floor and put them into a box at the back of her closet with more hair to use for drone wigs. "Better not be wasteful," she giggled to herself, "You never know when a client will come in looking for a new wig or some extensions." Once she was done, she went downstairs to have tea with J and tell her all about how much fun she had getting to play the role of hairdresser again.

The End

[thebutterflyofthemojave]

Diana and her Big Dada HC

(moodboard made by me)

Ghost in the Fallout AU with baby Diana. The stress about to stay away for weeks, the return at home where Laswell and her wife takes care of her after the death of his wife after the birth(its the wasteland unfortunately).

She is the only thing good in that world of death and pain, I imagine her first word “Dada”. Because she loves her big Dada so much.

When she says the first word he was returned after a request to assassinate some Gunners in a nearby factory, all covered in blood and sand, him tired, and sees his daughter of one year who tries to walk helped by Kate's wife and who keeps saying "Dada”

His eyes full of tears, the constant feeling of guilt in having to raise his little tangerine in such a world that are dissipated in that sweet "Dada" while he promised himself "to protect you little tangerine from this disgusting world”

[coldgardengentlemen]

I am BEGGING ya'll fanfic writers on my HANDS AND KNEES please please please please write more mr house fanfics. There are ELEVEN fanfics of him on ao3 and I have read them ALL even the really weird ones that I didn't really want to read I am desperate please please pleasepleasepleaseplease

[acroagoraphobe]

Writting request: Joshua helping the Courier fall asleep while they are sick :)

OOoooo

i like this one (Courier and Joshua content my beloved)

"Courier, you must rest. You will need to so you may recover."

Joshua stated more factually than as if he actually cared to the sick Courier 6. He was busy working on his many guns that he had and didn't even glance at the courier as he said this. But he knew they were awake, he assumed they were just being their usual defiant self.

But after a small amount of time, Joshua had a little bit of concern tug at his heart for the unfortunate Courier. He could tell they were having trouble sleeping due to their generally feeling terrible from illness. So The Burned Man set his weapons down for a moment and looked over at the courier, their eyes droopy and tired, but he knew they were having difficulty with sleeping. And words alone can't fix that.

He sat down next to them and tried his best to be a comforting prescence to help them sleep. The Courier mumbled some inaudible words and turned to him.

"I can't sleep..." The Courier mumbled, exhausted.

"I am aware. That is why I'm sitting next to you. I hope it would help with that at least somewhat."

The Courier smiled at Joshua, and that smile felt like it crept it's way into his very soul. That was a smile of someone who appreciated his company. Something that Joshua sees ever so rarely.

"You would not have to be struggling now, if you were not out in the rain all day."

Joshua said in his lecture voice, yes there is a difference. (A very tiny difference from his normal tone.) But still, the Courier knew all too well, since they had been lectured many a time by Joshua.

"I know... You told me this.. like Five times now Josh-"

The courier sighed and Joshua rolled his own eyes at the shortening of his name by the courier. He never liked it, but he has accepted it at this point.

"Just try to sleep Courier. Conversation will only leave you awake."

"Fine..."

The Courier leaned their head against Joshua's arm, and Joshua almost pulled away, but their eyes were already closed, and they looked much more comfortable than before.

Joshua moved his hand to gently pat the courier on the top of their head, this was likely the most affectionate he would let himself be with the Courier, and only this once since it helped them sleep while they were feeling unwell. But he couldn't deny that it made him feel warm in a part of his heart he thought was long gone cold.

[bellonathedragonborn]

Hey y’all an amazing Fallout Author on AO3 is deleting her stories due to it being used to feed AI. (An AI program mentioned characters from this story).

She gave us full permission to download the story so I downloaded it into a PDF.

So here. Plus her last message to us:

[tame-the-lion-writes]

Joshua Graham, freshly fallen from grace, freshly bathed in fire, waking up to dull aches and pains in the firelight of a quiet shack—hissing as he tries to sit up, waking the young woman who’s been sleeping on the ground next to him, who gave him her lone cot and wrapped his wounds in linen and aloe vera. Joshua Graham who tries to threaten her, in Legion tongue, but finds his voice as crackled as the skin beneath his bandages, and she who only tilts her head aside with worried eyes. Joshua Graham who is subject to the helplessness he inflicted on others, yet receives grace, and watches with a strange gaze as she offers him water.

Joshua Graham, who doesn’t trust—not after Caesar—and certainly not now. Joshua Graham, who remains indifferent even as the woman spoon-feeds him with a steady, patient hand and earnest eyes, while he can do nothing but lay in wait for days—weeks, even—and in the haze of the setting sun, watches her read an Old Book long abandoned. Joshua Graham, whose quiet refusal has begun to sting as much as his wounds.

Joshua Graham, who rises again, and leaves the cot after not-so-solitary confinement. Joshua Graham, who follows the healer into the light of the sun, where he trails behind as she knocks the Indian rice into her baskets, and grinds the grain into fine meal. Joshua Graham, who eventually goes from perceiving to partaking—leaching bitter tannins from acorns and taking the stone from her hand—who scoffs as she whispers thanks to an animal caught in his trap, yet pauses in wonder when she hastens its death. Joshua Graham, who wonders if it is mercy or punishment, that he was not granted the same.

Joshua Graham, who recovers slow and steady. Who remains silent as the woman routinely wraps and unwraps his bandages, revealing angry red skin. Joshua Graham, whose gradually learns to accept the woman's meanderings, yet still turns his eyes away when she sits by the fire—hands grasped together, head bowed in prayer. Joshua Graham, who feels the creak in his bones when he flexes his own tendons, and wonders if he should even place his palms together once more. Joshua Graham, who, on some higher level, wishes to flay the skin from his knees by kneeling for forgiveness, yet believing it would never undo all he's done.

Joshua Graham, who doesn't try to undo anything—but tries new things. Joshua Graham, who allows himself the struggle of weaving reeds, and fights the tremble of broken hands as he does so. Joshua Graham, who returns to the menial task of chopping wood, who does not let the woman gather sticks, who carries his work inside they may survive another night. Joshua Graham, who takes it upon himself to hunt, so the woman no longer has to kill—who makes sure he does it clean—and quick—that he remains a steward and not a butcher, and that they do not suffer. Joshua Graham, who no longer knows how to be gentle, but who knows how to give.

Joshua Graham, who wakes to the rumble of footsteps in the middle of the night, and must drag his host from the flames of her home, lest she burn the same as him. Joshua Graham, who knows his past has come to haunt him, and that he shall never escape—that even in moments of peace, he is watched equally by Caesar and by God—that there is no rest for the wicked, but the pit and tar and ruin.

Joshua Graham, who watches his companion dig through the ashes with bloodied fingers, that she might retrieve that Old Book, for she believes they need it more than food or water. Joshua Graham who does not help her, but holds her shoulder as she cries, and pulls her from the wreckage with promises of finding another. Who whispers that he knows a place, and of people, and of others. Who tells her that she shall find her treasure, as she carries it now, and it will never leave her.

Joshua Graham, who sits at the angel's side in silence, and finally—finally—decides to join her as she prays. Joshua Graham, who bows his head in reverence, repentance, and finds a waste of tears falling from his eyes. Joshua Graham, who begs and hoarsens his voice, who speaks hate because he hates himself, who believes in love that isn't for him, who is then pulled into a warm embrace by both deity and dream, and sobs against the shoulder of the woman holding him. Joshua Graham, who remains there 'til morning.

Joshua Graham, who holds empty his open hand, and lets her fingers intertwine with his, to begin their journey home.

[nivalvixen]

AO3 update

As of 28th May 2023, please note that all of my works on AO3 (230 so far!) are now subscriber only view.

This is in response to AI scraping and aligns with AO3's own policies and guidelines regarding AI.

If you want to read, review, or leave kudos on my fics, you will need to log in to AO3.

[callmewisteria]

When It All Falls Apart

When the conspiracy began to take shape in the late 2060s, the faces, names, companies, contractors, and entities behind it all thought they had until the turn of the century to implement their plans. As it turned out, they were a little more than twenty years off when it all fell apart. Series of one-shots zooming in on ten of the biggest players with a stake in a nuclear war – one that came earlier than they had planned for.

AKA how ten minutes of Fallout On Prime turned into over 60k words of writing over the course of six months. I couldn't be happier to finally have this published, and, yes, it fits into my series of Fallout fics It Began On October 23rd, 2077. Read it on AO3, ff.net, and/or wattpad!

[libertybri]

Can I please get some romantic/fluffy Raul headcanons?

These are going to be very sporadic and random, so bear with me

Raul best shows affection to Six by words of affirmation, constantly uplifting and complimenting them

If Six is struggling to sleep next to him, he will softly sing in their ear

He loves to slow dance

Sometimes when Raul comes across scrap pieces of paper, he will write love letters for Six to keep

He stitches the holes in Six’s clothes, as well as makes repairs on their weapons and armor without them noticing

Raul prefers to make dinner for the two of them on date nights to impress Six with some old family recipes he remembers

If Six does not speak Spanish, he is more than willing and even excited to teach them

He loves to receive love in physical touch and words of affirmation

He will swoon for sweet words out of Six’s mouth, especially if it’s spoken in his native tongue

Hugs are his favorite thing from his favorite person; He loves to rest his head in the crook of Six’s neck and take in their scent while they hold each other tightly

He dreams of one day leaving the Vegas life behind and living on a farm with just him and Six, maybe a few brahmin and chickens

He would follow Six to the ends of the Earth and shows that love to them so easily and confidently

[courier-nix]

Still reposting old art. I touched this one up a bit but not much. It's my courier taking a picture of the King and Rex. This was a scene from my fanfic

From 2023 at some point

[katies80s]

What's you're Fallout 🔥Hot Take🔥

It could be ANYTHING

like... a n y t h i n g

[the-hat-vintage]

Jeez permadeath hardcore New Vegas is absolutely brutal. Let me explain with the all the permadeaths I took a screenshot of.

Starting with the Ranger.

I was roleplaying a ranger and gave myself the clothing of one and gathered Boone and what I believed to be enough gear. She was ready to bring order and peace with the NCR and crush the legion under her boot. We hope to gain more rep with the Novac locals by clearing the repconn building of the ghouls threatening the town

With her trusting 5.56 revolver and sharpshooting companion she figures this would be a piece of cake.

They get in, talk to the intercom, and start blasting like normal. However, things get worse as they get upstairs.

The ghouls in the big hallway start to notice them and begin to overwhelm them. They get to the balcony area overlooking the lobby and two more ferals stands in front of the Ranger. While Boone deals with the ones behind us she deals with the two in front of her.

she starts shooting, downing the first feral with ease, as the other charges and scratches her up. Panic starts to set as she has to reload. After that she misses all her shots again and the ghoul continues to scratch. To avoid the feral attacks the ranger starts backing up before the claws grab her again. She neglects to notice the absent railing behind her as the ghoul scratches one last time and she falls off the balcony and time begins to slow. she hits the desk as her neck cracks and her lifeless body plops to the ground. Her pistol still in hand.

After Boone kills the ghouls, he notices the corpse of his new ranger friend. In his sadness of a fallen soldier, he walks slowly down the stairs and as walks out of the lobby. The Ranger's life fading as this all ends and, the idea of her on the dam protecting the mojave from the Legion, dies with her.

This was the Legionnaire.

I like to commit a lot, and this was my survival items focused melee, and explosives build.

It was a rough campaign for this guy. I made it 5 lives for each character as I was not used to or having fun on single life ending so soon.

He had lost my many lives 2 from dumb situations (can't recall) and the other 2 were from wanting to obtain the Nuka breaker (I have a mod that relocates the GRA weapons, and this one was in heavy fiend territory). He was officially on my last life and yet had not been inducted into Caesars legion. He was able to meet him and get to the point where House needed retribution, but wasn't fully ready to fight his secruitrons yet, so he heads for Dry Wells

(Dry Wells is a fun mod that adds more of Legion Territory) He get there and start doing some easy quests until tasked with dealing with a den of Yao Guai nearby. He agrees knowing the danger yet feeling ready to take them on.

The first few of them were easy with the Nuka Breaker making pastes of them until he gets deeper in the caves. A long cavern that split into multiple small rooms and the large bear at the end (there were more but only one attacked). Instead of chucking explosives like he would with a difficult foe he charges in. He swings at the beast, but it swings with him, and we both take our blows, but the legionnaire suffers the most. He should be chugging medicinal items and drugs to kill this thing, but the thrill of the fight kept taking over as fight overtook flight and before he can take another swing, he dies to the claws of the Yao Guai

The Legionnaire had hopes of being a centurion or even a Legate whose explosive weaponry would make the enemies of Caesar tremble in the mushroom clouds he would make. However, the Legionnaire would die in combat not against a Ranger or vicious human foe, but a beast who had a hunger deeper than his own. He dies and no one would fear his name.

More brutal and anticlimactic than saddening but I'm including it because 1. I worked hard on this character and 2. The fact the Yao Guai is mocking my corpse (it's not dead it is doing a lying down animation like what?!)

Last one and I'll head out.

This was the Sheriff.

A typical bring law to the lawless wastes type deal as he sported his rifle and revolver. Coming from NCR territory to bring some law to towns that need him and didn't want to worry about NCR bureaucracy to ring the bell.

He was pretty outgunned in most fights and would sneak around the ones he could, but sometimes he needed to. He had helped the folks of Goodsprings and now it was Primm's turn.

He had rescued the deputy and was given the options of possible new sheriff candidates. He decided to go for the NCR as the idea of a robot or a convict laying any good effort law sounded out of the question.

He heads for the Mojave outposts to convince them to reinforce the town and it's citizen. On the way he spots a Highway Patrol Station held up by raiders. He decides to go around them for the time being and finally makes it to the outpost.

After getting the reinforcements, he heads back to share the news and establish law to Primm. On the way he figures he should clear those raiders so the soldiers have no trouble in getting to Primm.

He sits atop a little cliff and starts to aim his sights when a feral ghoul from out in the desert jumps him. He manages to kill the ghoul but alerts the raiders of his presence. Instead of retreating and retain a new strategy, the sheriff pulls rifle back up and begins a firefight. He fires at them managing to hit them and even killing one charging at him with a knife. He is outnumbered however, and the bullets from the raiders pierce him too many times as he falls to his wounds.

With his gun clutched between his arm the sheriff looks one more time at the sun. Not an early sunrise, but a sun that had already rose and will keep doing so after he is gone. Although the sheriff may not be there to invoke the law on the lawless, he was able to help two new towns. With that thought, the sheriff stares at the sun till his soul leaves him basking in the desert.

Thank you for reading my post if you got to here! I wanted to share some of these stories and I legit had fun writing about their deaths.

Hope Y'all have a good day and happy trails!