#char: dogmeat

[commanderogerss]

dogmeat found something

[imagine-silk]

How would companions (excluding Nick, Codsworth, and Dogmeat) react to finding a bottle called Devil’s Kiss and they decide to drink it, thinking it’s a special kind of alcohol?

After drinking it they gain fire powers, although it’s a very painful process.

Here’s an example.

Superhero origin story let's go! @vulcunniko

Deacon

He’s not in the business of drinking unidentified liquids, unfortunately he was already drunk. He woke up in an abandoned building with soot-covered and burned clothes surrounded by charred corpses. Wanting to forget this image he set off on the trail back to Sanctuary. On the way as he was camping raiders started coming close to his camp and he scrambles to put out the fire. But it went out before he did anything.

After that he can never explain why or how fire reacts around him, he just knows he can do it and has a vague control over it. He goes missing for a while but that’s not unusual for Deacon. 

MacCready

There’s a lot of random bottles out in the Commonwealth and he had made a habit of just putting them in his bag and drinking them when he wants. And then one of the bottles rips into his insides. Falling to the ground he reaches for purified water and the can boils and pops in his hand. 

To be honest he only uses these powers in two circumstances; When he’s surrounded in close quarters with no escape in sight or to light his cigarettes.

Curie

When the unknown drink was brought to her she started experimenting on it with a vague understanding of what it was. And as she spent more and more effort on it she failed to notice her prolonged exposure until it was far too late.

Her abilities were not strong by any means due to her not directly ingesting it but she can make your day worse. What if the combustion in your gun was way too much? What if you were standing close to the fire? What if the fire you relied on for light just suddenly went out?

Preston

Most likely he knew what it was and kept it in an attempt to keep it out of the hands of raiders. He drank it during an attack in the middle of the night, people were running, houses were being razed, and going alone to stop it would be suicide unless he had some sort of upper hand. The pain was tolerable because he had no time to dwell on it. 

Sanctuary was rebuilt from the ashes. People praised Preston as their savior but no one saw what he did. They never find out about his flames, he doesn’t use them unless someone needs him to and even then he never does it when they’re looking.

X6-88

This would be the result of an Institute experiment before he left. They didn’t tell him about the pain, using it as a test of tolerance. A test he passed. The rest of the examination was as expected and he went about his business. It was routine for them to blindside him like that so he thought not much of it. When you found out you were livid.

He uses his abilities purely for strategy and nothing else. Well, if you asked for him to light your cigarette he would. But in all seriousness meeting him in combat is meeting the grim reaper.

Cait

You gave her the bottle as a present after her being sober for a year as a celebration. The nice moment quickly turned sour as she bursted into flames and you poured water all over her and the carpet. After it’s done you think it’s over but then she sets the floor on fire and chaos is reinstated.

When everything calms down she takes full advantage of the newfound powers. The ability to effectively throw bombs and razed hell is something she has no qualms about. She even settles petty grievances by flaming up, not attacking but threatening.

Piper

She’s not sure how she talked herself into drinking it but when the mystery was solved she wished it wasn’t. Honestly she would much rather go through the moonshine incident ten times than having whatever she drank scorched her everything.

But she felt like she landed on a discovery when it was all said and done. A person stumbles on something that gives them powers they use for good, of course she would find this exciting. She sees herself as a vigilante.

Hancock

His highs usually fuck him up, he was not ready for this fuck up. When he wakes up he tells Fahrenheit about his bad trip but she just tells him she saw it and it was horrifying. At first he thinks she’s joking but then she points to the couch with burnt cushions strangely in a familiar shape.

I would recommend using guns while out with him because he’s gonna throw bombs like the war was back on. He’s probably the one with the best handle on this ability because he uses it incessantly. Lighting rooms, his cigarettes, boiling water, heating his bath, party favors, anything that can use fire he will do by himself.

Danse

When he was depresso espresso he started drinking. A lot. Any bottle, it didn’t really matter. He regretted that train of thought. He had been holed up in his claimed house for weeks so no one noticed this happen, no one heard the screaming. 

When you came to check up on him he was frantic, grabbing your shoulders and rambling about how he didn’t know what was happening to him or how to stop it. Upon asking what was wrong your shirt caught on fire and as he scrambled his bare feet left trails where he walked. He’d always wore his heart on his sleeve so it didn’t take long for you to realize his emotions triggered it.

[heathenhole]

Char Broil Dogmeat - Fallout 4 Auto Brother Season 6 Episode 4

Full Synopsis: We make our way out of the crapshow from the last EP and finally have the encounter at the bunker to meet Brandis, or Paladin Brandis. Old due who is losing his mind. Of course we creep on piper and her kick ass outfit. We beat up on a queen Mirelurk, but it was already tenderized for us. We stumble into a tower in a place called Lynn Woods. Not a porn star. Wait until I start the siren.

#fallout4 #gaming #youtubegaming #fallout4mods #gamedev #bethesda #automatron

[nosleeppotions]

Tommy's favorite boys :D

Alternate Title: moments before disaster

Tommy limps behind the group as they've finally managed to find their way out of the hell hole they originally just wanted to clear the Raiders out of. "Nick?" He calls. "Yes?"

"If I ever audibly say "oh, what's that?" out loud in a creepy place again... please stop me." He doesn't even bother with his Atom Cats accent, wanting to get the point across. "Funny, I was thinking the same thing."

Strider (Dogmeat) barks happily, the good boy that he is and slows down so he can walk next to his favorite human.

"I'll be seein' Charred Ferals in my nightmares, again." He grumbles quietly, petting the dog quietly as they walked.

[halpyhal]

Comparing fallout 4 companions to other chars because all my mentally ill mind can do is make associations:

Dogmeat: koromaru persona 3

Preston: arno assassins creed

Danse: any local autistic man (won’t elaborate)

Piper: phoenix wright (irony intended)

Cait: rouge the bat (but meth)

MacCready: sonic (and/or ryuji persona 5)

Hancock: trevor gtav but if he survived ending a

Deacon: agent 47 but if he had a personality, wore sunglasses and was a compulsive liar

X6: machine connor detroit

[believerindaydreams]

Latest in Project Mojave adventures: University Point is cleaned out. Real kick in the teeth how a settlement that is recognisably a town has been...charred to the ground. Jac's story was rough.

I took her dress with me, stuck a ballistic weave on it, then unexpectedly gave it to Deacon after realising the idiot was running around in a zero defense outfit. So now he's cross dressing. Good times.

(I always use a dress as a charisma outfit for Boone because it's visually distinctive, although with a better ballistic weave the dress is now better than his NCR uniform. However, it lacks pockets so it's still not the running around outfit- as per canon, a happy Boone is one with pocketed armor.

Have also added Old Longfellow to the gang. I feel slightly bad about that- he seems to have a life he's happy with- but I do like having a companion who sings. I don't use him as a pack mule out of respect....I didn't use Deacon as one either until I got his perk but now he carries junk around like the Mojave gang. I swear, most of my play through this time around has just been inventory management- weapons alone! Nick gets .45 and .44 and .45-70 guns and ammo (and a rotating collection of duct tape and screws junk that I feel like he'd carry around for emergency). Veronica gets microfusion cells and any good weapons that use them, Carla carries random stuff, and Arcade, bless him, doesn't need a better weapon anymore than he did in FNV so he's a pack mule. I should probably get Dogmeat and send him to my penthouse since settler numbers aren't a concern there.

Also building a library is in the works. Overdue book manufacture is a nice mod and pairs well with the one that gives you settlement bonuses for making bookshelves.

A bit at a loss for what to do next tho- I am underleveled for Railroad quests and I hate interacting with Fort Hagen. Maybe I'll get Curie- still haven't met her.

Or maybe I'll do Nuka World? I'd have fun seeing this crew destroy the Gauntlet.

(I need to stop playing as Boone sometime so I can do the evil run. And wear a hat that isn't a beret.)

Maybe I'll romance Nick. Why not.

[vaultgirl2077]

“What’s the point of picking up that junk?” MacCready complained as Maya examined the charred remains of a file at the reception desk.  

He’d been like this all morning and her patience was wearing thin. 

He didn’t want her to investigate the distress signal they picked up. 

He didn’t care that he woke up every creature from HQ to Med-Tek in some vain attempt to shoot away his nerves. 

He didn’t even care about scavenging for caps or valuables along the way - the final confirmation to Maya that he was not as okay as he claimed. In the many weeks they’d been travelling together, she’d never seen the mercenary this focused, or this scared.

“I’m just trying to find any more information on this ‘Prevent’ so Curie can study it.  It was a research drug, so anything we can find out about it will be good to know before we give it to Duncan, right?” Maya retorted, a little sharper than she’d intended, before placing the file back on the desk. It was only a sign-in register but her point remained valid all the same.

“Ah Monsieur MacCready, you are exhibiting symptoms of extreme agitation and anxiety. May I suggest the administration of a minute dosage of Med-X to assist you in this mission?” Curie asked eagerly as she floated by. 

By the time the chem had been dispensed - MacCready had already angrily barged past them into the offices at the back of the building. Shots and curses could be heard bouncing off the walls in the distance and Maya couldn’t help but wince as she readied her gun.

“We’d better go and make sure he doesn’t get torn apart in there. I’m sorry he’s being so...difficult, right now. He’s just worried about his son.”

Curie nodded in acknowledgement and followed behind her companion. She understood the logic and reasoning of a father being concerned over the welfare of a sick child. She understood the physical signs of worry and the effect it had on a human’s psyche. But she did not know what it felt like. She did not understand why her attempt to relieve him of this problem was not what he desired. Logically, it made no sense. So much of human behaviour made no logical sense to Curie. Over two centuries of studying them and she still did not understand what it meant to be a human. Something that bothered her more than ever now she was around so many different human beings every day.

The infestation of ferals guided them from the executive’s terminal on the third floor, all the way down the research centre’s subterranean levels where the elusive cure was apparently stored. 

MacCready barely spoke a word to Maya unless it was encouraging her to hurry up when she, Curie and Dogmeat lagged behind him on the way to the laboratory. Curie,  herself, was quieter than usual too and it made the atmosphere particularly more sombre - An impressive feat, especially when taking into consideration that the entire building had spent the last two centuries as the eternal resting place of Med-Tek’s more unfortunate employees; the poor souls who had been trapped here when the bombs fell had succumbed to the radiation instead of being granted the sweet release of death.

There were many fates worse than death in this world, but turning into a feral ghoul was one that Maya feared most.

The last of the frustrated screams echoed out from the lab by the time Maya and Curie had caught up, leaving only the frustrated heavy breathing and cursing of their companion as he attempted to search the debris for his promised goal. MacCready was the most impressive shot she’d ever witnessed anyway, but today the anticipation made him especially efficient, something she understood probably too well in her own search to save her son. It was making him reckless too.

In fact, MacCready had been so wrapped up in clearing out the ferals with almost vindictive haste, he’d completely overlooked the bright, red, auto-injecting syringe that lay in plain view on the abandoned workstation.

“Mademoiselle! Is that the item we are looking for? The cure for Monsieur MacCready’s child?” Curie had noticed the chem at almost the exact same moment Maya did.

“I think so, Curie. Can you take a look at it for me to be sure?” Maya replied, picking it up and examining it closely. 

From the opposite corner of the lab, half way through ripping a drawer open, MacCready heard the robot’s announcement and had started to make his way back over to them. 

When he saw that Maya did indeed have the injector in her hand - it was the first time she’d seen those big blue eyes light up all day. 

“We did it… holy crap, we actually did it! We just gave Duncan a fighting chance to live.” He exclaimed as he took the cure from Maya’s hands and pocketed it. Even then, he didn’t move even an inch away from her, a detail that Maya couldn’t help but register despite not wanting to. Before she could finish scolding herself for letting herself think such ridiculous things when it came to a married man - MacCready placed a trembling hand on her arm. 

“I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to pay you back for this… I owe you big time.” 

Maya shook her head incredulously in an attempt to avoid his piercing gaze. 

“Mac...This is a friendship, not a business contract. All I care about is curing your son.” 

MacCready refused to let her look away. With one hand he cupped her cheek and forced her face back him, with the other he took her hand.

The surprise of his touch forced her to turn and face him, making the lack of space between them that much more highlighted. Immediately she felt her ivory cheeks flush and her heart started to race.

“I know you do.” He sighed with a dopey smile and moved his head in closer, so close that the impact of his breath sent shivers down her spine. “I'm just used to people taking rather than giving. Maybe one day I'll realize that you're different.” Before she could answer, he’d bridged what little remained of the gap between them and connected their lips.

It was clumsy and almost forceful in his haste. Not bad… just different than what she was used to.

Maya didn’t pull away, too stunned that he’d finally broke the tension between them and kissed her to really respond at first. So many questions flooded her mind and none she could bring herself to ask, the most prominent one wouldn’t stay quiet in her mind - “What about your wife?” The one he’d mentioned back in HQ. She was about to push him off and actually ask it when he did the job for her. Just as abrupt and unexpected as the kiss had started, MacCready pulled away and ended it without a word. Before any awkwardness could form, Dogmeat and Curie returned back to them after sweeping the laboratory for anything useful. 

“Madame, we discovered a small storage unit of medical supplies and I took the initiative to annex anything useful for our mission. May I suggest we leave this place if we have found what we are looking for? My systems are detecting high levels of radiation in these laboratories. Caution is strongly recommended.”

“Don’t worry about it, Curie, we can go now. The last step is to get the Cure to Daisy in Goodneighbor.” Mac smiled at Maya and started to make his way to the elevator.. “With her caravan contacts, she's the only one I trust to get this to Duncan on time.” He glanced back at his slightly stupefied companion and cocked his head to encourage her to follow. “This is the last favor I'm going to ask, I promise. Let’s go.”

“G-Goodneighbor? Right. Sure! Let’s go!” Maya nodded confidently and composed herself before following in his wake. 

Even though her heart was still racing as she awkwardly took her place next to him in the elevator, one thing was perfectly clear by the time they got back to the surface and left the building: He did not want to talk about what had happened between them. 

Though she was still confused and shocked from the last few hours with him, she kept her mouth shut and acted as if nothing had happened as they made their way to Goodneighbor. It was much easier for both of them right now if they silently accepted that the kiss had been a mistake and had only occurred because they had got caught up in the moment.

[siribear]

turns out: she doesn’t know if she can do this. two steps outside of sanctuary hills (the old neighborhood sign dilapidated, covered in vines) and everything seems so.. vast. codsworth has obviously acclimatized himself to the change in - she swallows - centuries, perhaps she should have asked him to join her.

instead, claire takes another step, then another, eventually reaching the bridge out of the neighborhood. the wood creaks underfoot, but she makes it, hand ghosting over the railing like she used to when she and nate used to walk the area. the first sight that greets her: another corpse, not yet decomposed, head bashed in by a tire iron. another scavenger, likely, body already looted for anything valuable save for a leather jacket and jeans.

half an hour later, she reaches the gas station. a wrecked and hollowed out car sits just outside it. claire figures two hundred years in the future, they don’t use cars. she pays the building a wide berth just in case whoever killed the scavenger outside is still inside.

she’s stopped by a sudden bark. a dog runs up to her, and she isn’t sure if she can shoot a dog, but is saved when the dog stops before her, wagging his tail.

‘friendly, huh? thank goodness.’ claire drops to a knee. ‘where’s your owner, buddy?’

the dog barks again, turning to look down the road. claire laughs softly to herself, thankful, at least, for the company.

‘let’s go find your owner then.’

the dog leads the way, down the road, into concord. again, she’s hit with a wave of knowing but not knowing as her memories of the place overlap with what she’s seeing. the only things keeping her going are the short, excited barks from the dog in front of her.

the dog turns a corner ahead. claire follows, only to see him with his ears flat against his head, teeth bared, growling at a group in the distance. she ducks behind a nearby car, scoping out the area.

on the ground: a group in mismatched and patched together armor, shooting up at the balcony of the old museum of freedom. on that balcony: a lone man firing what looks like lasers at his assailants below.

‘which side do we support, boy?’ she asks. in response, a deeper growl, and the dog moves further ahead. he jumps one of the people below, teeth digging into their shoulder, pulling them down to the ground. ‘okay,’ she sighs and readies her pistol. ‘let’s do this.’

one shot pierces the assailant’s neck, ending the scuffle. the dog charges forward, this time yanking another’s leg out from under them and tearing into the limb. they take out the rest of the attackers in the same manner - the dog distracts, claire shoots. between the two of them and the man on the balcony, the gang lies dead in the street.

‘hey, you!’ he calls down to her when the others are dead. ‘there are more raiders in the building. i’ve got civilians in here. please, help us,’ he pleads.

if she helps them, maybe they’ll help her. ‘we’ve got you!’ she calls back up to him. even from the ground, she sees his shoulders sag with relief.

‘thank you,’ he half sighs. ‘take that laser musket, there.’ he leans over the railing and points at a body near the door. ‘please, hurry.’ and he returns inside.

‘here we go,’ claire says to herself. briefly, she allows a hand to comb through the dog’s fur as he waits next to her. 

-

shooting paper targets or cans in their backyard is different from shooting actual people. even the giant bugs in the vault were easier. claire shoots two raiders on the upper floor of the museum. the bodies tumble from the walkways, down to the bottom floor. through a locked gate, she sees the floor collapsed in, leading straight to the basement.

the pair make their way through the museum, and another raider dies to the dog. he bleeds out on the floor, throat torn to shreds. they move on.

on the other side of the gate, she carefully follows the newly made ramp into the basement. below, the generator still hums, powered by an old fusion core. curious, she accesses the computer. it isn’t difficult to hack into - a few guessed passwords and she’s in. with the security door open, she removes the fusion core, watching the generator power down. if nothing else, codsworth can use it when she gets back -

‘open the door!’ a rough voice shouts. ‘or we will!’ a dull thud. then another. a swear -

claire hurries through the rest of the museum, making her way up familiar stairwells and hallways. at the top, she and the dog take a pair of raiders by surprise.

‘it’s me,’ she says when they lie dead at her feet. ‘i took care of the raiders.’

the door opens slowly. the dog pushes past her into the room to rest at the feet of an old woman sitting on a couch. the man from before grins at the sight of her. beside him, another man in workman’s overalls smiles at her as well. then, at the fusion core in her hand.

‘well, i’ll be damned, preston. that’s the FC we need.’

the man with the laser musket, preston, nods. ‘first of all, thank you. i didn’t think we’d make it.’ he lowers his weapon, butt against the floor, and leans it against his hip. ‘i’m afraid there’s more we have to ask of you.’

claire tilts her head to the side. ‘how can i help?’

again, his face brightens. ‘there are more raiders on the way. the others were just the group that caught up to us first.’

‘shit,’ she whispers.

the other man laughs. ‘yeah. but there’s a suit of power armor and a crashed vertibird on the roof with a minigun still attached. use that power core on the power armor, tear the minigun off, and you are good-to-go.’

‘hold on.’ she holds up a hand. ‘who are you people? why are raiders even after you?’

‘have you heard of the quincy massacre?’ preston’s dull tone answers her.

‘the - what?’

‘wow.’ a sigh. ‘i thought everyone knew about that. the minutemen were betrayed at quincy. most of them were killed, but we’re the survivors. sturges,’ he looks to the man next to him, who waves. ‘jun and marcy long.’ he gestures to a couple on the other side of the room - the man curled in on himself on the floor, the woman pacing. ‘and mama murphy.’ the old woman on the couch. ‘and i’m preston garvey, commonwealth minuteman.’

‘minuteman,’ she repeats. then, quieter, ‘now i’m going backwards in time.’

‘i’m surprised you haven’t heard of us. everyone knows about what happened at quincy.’

she shrugs. ‘i’m.. new to the area. it’s a long story.’ she smiles. ‘so about that power armor.’

preston nods and quickly leads the way.

-

dogmeat will keep you safe, mama murphy had said. and the dog - dogmeat - happily followed them out.

‘dogmeat.’ claire shakes her head. she had a little dog when she was younger. her parents named him rex. but dogmeat - ‘okay. dogmeat,’ she says, louder. dogmeat perks up at his name. ‘ready for this?’ he barks, tail wagging.

claire steps into the power armor, movements jerky and awkward. two steps, each one rumbling underfoot, then she rips the minigun off its stand. it should be heavy, but the mechanized limbs of the armor hold it easily.

a bullet pings off one of her legs. a raider steps out from behind the radiator on the opposite roof. the minigun spins up, the raider falls with a spray of red, the minigun spins down.

the battle is wholly one sided, after that.

claire jumps down, armor frame absorbing the shock of falling as well as the resulting gunfire from jumping into the fray. any raiders that attempt to flank her are charred by preston, and any that take her head on are turned into a red mist.

when it’s over, all she can hear is her echoed breathing.

and the loud bang, bang, bang of a metal hatch being broken open. ‘preston?’ she calls up behind her. all she gets is an answering, ‘oh no.’

the thing barreling toward her makes no sense. large roaches she could recognize, but this thing. this creature towers over her by at least a foot and is larger than even her power armor.

she fires, and watches as the thing soaks up the bullets and lasers fired into it. she’s slow to backpedal, and the creature still doesn’t slow. before she knows it, she’s looking at the sky, heads up display reading the integrity of the chest piece has taken a hit. then, the thing is over her, clawing at the chest armor further, trying to tear it apart.

claire lifts her arms, fits the minigun under the creature’s jaw, and fires. she doesn’t stop until the head is gone. a beat. the body falls to her side with a heavy thud.

she exhales a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and tosses the empty minigun to the side. carefully, she picks herself up. when she looks up, preston is gone.

-

he and the others are gathered in the lobby of the museum when she finally enters. she exits the power armor, unsteady on her feet, and approaches.

‘that really was... something else.’ he pulls a pouch out of one of his pockets. ‘here, this is for you.’

she takes it. ‘i didn’t really do it for the - ’ upon opening it, she tries to hide her confusion, ‘bottle caps.’

‘sorry, i’m used to others only helping if there’s something in it for them.’ he shrugs, but doesn’t move to take it back. ‘thanks to you, we survived. mama murphy knows a safe place to the north, called sanctuary. you’re welcome to join us.’

sanctuary. what are the odds?

‘i know who you are.’ mama murphy takes her by surprise.

‘i’m sorry?’

‘you’re looking for someone, kid. and i know how to find them.’

claire shakes her head, confused. ‘what’re you saying?’

‘go to diamond city. you’ll find your answers there.’ her eyes, though cloudy, seem to clear.

‘diamond city? i don’t... understand,’ claire says, trying to steady her voice.

‘sorry, kid. the sight isn’t always clear. find me some jet and i can help you further.’

preston saves her from asking what jet is, but by his reaction, she can only imagine it’s some kind of drug. diamond city. diamond city? the only city she knows is boston.

‘thank you anyway,’ claire says softly. mama murphy nods, knowing.

-

though preston had offered for her to come with them, she hangs back in concord for only a bit longer. taking advantage of the backpack attached to the power armor, she scavenges the dead - a short rifle, another pistol, and ammo for each. she also pockets the leather armor from one of the raiders in the museum.

finally alone, claire exits the armor and vomits on the floor.

-

she hauls the power armor back up to sanctuary hills. an alert beeps in her ear the moment she crosses into the neighborhood proper: power core charge 5%. figuring it’s close enough, she exits the power armor for the last time. her legs buckle underneath her, but a pair of arms hold her up.

‘not used to walkin’ in power armor, huh?’ sturges removes the backpack before she can. ‘takes some gettin’ used to, is all. mighty fine shootin’ back there though. can’t believe you took down a deathclaw by yourself.’

a deathclaw. apt. claire doesn’t even want to imagine those claws actually tearing at her flesh. without the power armor, she’d be dead.

‘preston definitely helped.’ she takes the backpack when her legs finally stop shaking. ‘so, you guys are going to settle here, then?’

‘yup.’ he gives her a cheery grin. ‘or try to, anyway. preston’s off setting up a perimeter. there’s not much here, yet, but at least we have a roof over our heads.’

she catches sight of preston in the distance, examining the area around the neighborhood.

‘look, i know you’ve done a lot for us. but i gotta ask another favor of you.’

claire shifts the pack on her shoulder and grins. ‘shoot.’

‘the rest of us are workin’ on gettin’ some of this rubble out of the way, but we’re gonna need the bare necessities if we’re gonna settle down here. beds, food, water, and the like.’

‘i’m sure i can find some mattresses in these old houses.’ she bites back a sigh. ‘we can tap into the well system running from the river - ’ she knows one of her neighbors had a well pump in their back yard. ‘ - sustainable food, though...’

‘well, one thing at a time.’ he claps her on her shoulder. ‘we appreciate it. thanks, uh - ’

‘don’t worry about it.’ she skips over his fishing for a name. it feels to strange, still. unreal. ‘i’ll get myself set up and get to it. thank you, sturges.’

if he catches on to her diversion, he doesn’t let it show. they part ways: sturges to a nearby house and claire to her home.

[falloutglow]

5 and 11 with echo and nick cat face emoji :3c

….you know what fair, I did bring this upon myself *sighs* you are a NERD! and i love you

5. How do they comfort each other when they are sad?

…when Echo feels uuuuh comfortable enough (takes a while cause she struggles with touch, esp in the beginning), she actually seeks him out to just…lean against him. Having him there helps ground her and his presence puts her mind at ease. If he has a book out, he’ll start reading parts of it aloud to help distract her from the sads.

If Nick is sad, Echo will offer him something she’s been holding onto for him (like a pack of cigarettes, flip lighters, a book/magazine despite being slightly charred its still mostly legible…trinkets, etc) or she’ll tell a wild story about being on the road to help take his mind off things.

Also hand holding….comfort in just a simple hand squeeze…

Otherwise. Dogmeat doing adorable tricks. He knows how to get people to smile and laugh. He’s a good boi and will not have sads in this household no sir.

11. Do they have any inside jokes?

haha yes several. The Mysterious Stranger sorta being one of them. That guy just seems to follow them around and pop up at the best/worst times. (Echo def thinks this guy is a psyker, but refrains from bringing it up with Nick) It’s gotten to the point where Echo jokes that the Stranger wants Nick’s hat and that’s why he’s been popping up & seems to be following them around.

So, people who have traveled with Echo quickly learn it’s best to not have her lead because she gets super damn lost like sooooo fast. Nick knows its best if he takes point when they’re going from point A to B. However, she also has a knack for ‘stumbling into things’, whether it be oooo… Stumbling into a Railroad safe house before meeting the Railroad proper… finding a secret passage that nobody’s used since the pre-war days… literally meeting Nick. She didn’t know he was in vault 114, she was just passing through and the Triggermen thought she was there for him. So, if they’re trying to find someone/something, its best to have her lead.

THE IN-JOKE is usually involving her getting lost and then she’ll wrap around and make the come back of “I mean I did find you didn’t I?” (thru sheer dumb luck)

[Romance Asks]

[commanderogerss]

[crackinglamb]

Prompt 21 - Stay Quiet

“What's that?  A noise,” came the grumbling voice.  Honoria shrank into the shadows, holding her breath.  Already she'd faced grotesque, hairless, mutant things that popped up out of the ground and attacked her. They looked like oversized rats.  At least they'd been easy to kill as long as she kept a cool head.  Dogmeat had helped.  

As if the thought of him conjured him, the shepherd dog bounded up to her, tail wagging and whining with glee.

“Shh,” she hissed.  “Stay.”  Heavy footfalls punctuated the silence and she pushed herself further into the nook between the overpass and some rotting junk.  “Quiet!”

Dogmeat crouched down too, his face snarling, although not at her.  He'd smelled the green creatures.  Honoria found herself silently praying he'd stay quiet and they wouldn't be found.

Nothing about this place made sense.  There was no green life – except for these brutes – and nothing grew – except everything that shouldn't. She'd been forced to shoot people until she ran out of ammunition. And when she'd found more, she'd been forced to kill even more people, although those had been...

Well, Preston had warned her about feral ghouls.  She hadn't known what he meant, until she met them.

Irradiated people, she thought.  More like melted.

She was completely lost, turned around and unable to find anything like a map other than what her Pip-Boy held, and that didn't help her since there were no markers on it of apparently known coordinates.  It didn't pick up new ones until she crossed some invisible line, arbitrary and often distracting.  She'd left Diamond City because the noise and crowds of unwashed survivors had been too overwhelming.  She'd wanted to get back to Sanctuary Hills, but had evidently gone the wrong way.  She could hear another settlement nearby, low voices, a thread of a radio show she remembered from before all this, opening and closing doors on sturdy buildings.  But she couldn't find an entrance and now she was turned around again, and hiding from green monsters that loved to hunt down and kill everything that moved.

She heard shots ring out above her head; the mutants had found something.  Someone. The course language and staccato sound of bullets made her think Raiders.  She let them have at it, hunching in on herself under the bridge.  The firefight went on a long time, with occasional thumps of bodies hitting the cracked and broken pavement.  If she looked up, a pair of glassy eyes met hers.  She stopped looking up.

It felt like hours passing, but the Pip-Boy said it had only been about fifteen minutes. But it was quiet again.  The remaining mutants moved off, and the Raiders were all dead.  She knew she should probably climb up there and scavenge the bodies, but her distaste for that bordered on nausea.  Still, they usually had caps and bullets, two things she'd rapidly learned were good to carry.  Their weapons were terrible, and their armor was frightening and they had either prepackaged food – full of rads – or charred bugs and mystery meat.  Already the Vault suit was a size too big on her frame.  She couldn't face it, not today.

“Go,” she whispered to Dogmeat, gesturing with her hand.  She followed him out of the dark corner, leaving the scene of the carnage untouched.  She didn't care where she ended up, as long as it was safe.  

There.  She caught a glimpse of neon in the gloom as night fell.  There was the entrance, finally.  

Goodneighbor.

Good enough.

tip jar

[nukagalreacts]

Part two of F04 Companions react to arriving to a settlement to late and the whole place has been razed!

omg y’all sorry im a week late on this but here it is and I hope you like it! Thanks again for the request and thank you for your patience with me!

Codsworth: It always made him proud to see Sole helping so many settlements, their ability to put themselves before others and show kindness to strangers was a quality he had admired in Sole from the very day he had first started working for them. The ability to be selfless in world like this was hard, but Sole managed to do it day in and day out, without complaining or wondering why them when bad things happened, and they were happy to have a bot like Codsworth looking out for them across the Commonwealth. Today was no different either and Sole had been up bright and early before getting a distress signal from a small settlement not to far from Sanctuary, and was quick to gear up and call for Codsworth who was ready at a moments notice.

Codsworth was helpful in keeping the path clear for Sole as they focused on getting to the settlement and bracing themselves for whatever enemies awaited them. A bit later they came up and over the hill that was suppose to overlook the small settlement and Codsworth felt horrible as he saw that everything had been burned to the ground. He could see that his master was visibly shaken by this and did his best to provide words of comfort and let Sole know they would help them track down those responsible for this horrible crime. Him and Sole went down the hill and got to work looking for any evidence of who or what did this, Sole was glad Codsworth has multiple keener eyes then they did or else it would have taken a lot longer to search through the charred rubble.

Nick: The detective and Sole where like the same person when it came to going out of their way to helping anyone who needed it, so he was usually the one Sole picked to come along with them when a settlement needed assistance. Nick and Sole were widely recognized among the settlements and people always reached out to them first when needing help, and since Nick was a synth it actually increased people’s trust of synths in general as more people came to realize that synths weren’t a bad thing and most of them were just trying to live their lives.

Today was going to be no different than any other, they were just going to do a check in with a settlement that had been having some ghoul problems lately and as of last time they had gotten better defenses and seemed to be doing well. Instead they were greeted with the site of ashy, blackened ruins and bodies of ghouls and settlers scattered around the area. He could feel the disappointment and sense of failure wash over him and could see Sole’s eyes get a bit watery not just from the smoke but trying to hold back any emotions. This wasn't the first time this type of thing had happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last, but it didn’t make the failure sting any less. From what he could see with how many dead ghoul bodies there were it looked like maybe the settlers were caught off guard and got overtaken so fast that they didn’t even have time to send out a distress signal. All they could do and hope for now was to go and see if they could find any survivors in the surrounding area.   

Cait: She hated going out of her way to help anyone unless there was something in it for her, even then the reward better be something pretty spectacular if she has to risk her ass for someone. When she had first started traveling with Sole and they went off to help a settlement she moaned and groaned the whole time saying what a waste of time it was and people needed to learn how to defend themselves and not rely on others for help, over time though Sole had softened her up a bit and convinced her helping these places was for the betterment of the Commonwealth as a whole. Cait couldn’t deny either that helping so many places out had its perks and they ended up getting weapons and other supplies for free from grateful settlements, and it felt good to be seen as somewhat of a hero instead of being seen as some low life junkie.

Not every mission went smoothly though and she had seen her fair share of razed settlements,so the one she was staring at right now didn’t affect her at all, not like it did Sole anyways. Cait’s whole life had always been nothing but violence and neglect, her emotions had become limited and all but stunted as an adult, with Sole that had changed a little bit but not by much. In this case Cait acted as the more level headed one who would try to get Sole to calm down and think rationally so they could go kick the ass of whoever raided this settlement, now that was something Cait was always happy to do.  

Deacon: The man may be a compulsive liar who changes his face every other week and no one really knows who he is besides those he works with, but deep down he cared about helping the people of the Commonwealth, even those who weren’t synths. In between doing missions for the railroad with Sole they would go out and do their best to help struggling settlements rather that would be building up defenses, taking care of raiders, or just helping with crops, no job was to big or small for them.

In the morning they had been making their way to a drop box location for info on their next mission when they spotted wafts of black smoke not to far from their location. They shared a look before making the mutual decision to go check it out. Deacon expected to find a camp of super mutants but it was so much worse than that, from behind his sunglasses he could make out a pile of bodies of what he assumed had been innocent settlers all stacked in a gruesome display of guts and blood. Super mutants had already come through here and slaughtered and destroyed everything without mercy, it made his stomach twist and turn as he turned away trying to keep down the bile half way up his throat. He felt horrible that him and Sole hadn’t passed by sooner they could have saved everyone here, but he guessed this is just the way the cards played out sometimes, and they couldn’t always be in the right place every time.

Curie: Someone needs help she is the synth for the job and will come running from anywhere in the Commonwealth to help anyone out! Curie has become a well known face among the people because she is so handy at her medical practice and hasn’t had a patient die on her yet, and everyone loves her friendly and calm personality. Whenever Sole is going out to a settlement she never leaves Curie behind no matter the reason she is going out to help them.

This time around Sole and Curie had plans to stop at a settlement not far from Sanctuary because some of the younger settlers kept coming down with a certain disease, and Curie had found a way to make a vaccine for it and planned to treat all the settlers with it. Curie was overly excited as they made their way down the trail that led right into the settlement, her medical bag carrying all the vaccines dropped out of her hand and Sole could hear the syringes breaking along with other medical equipment as they stared in shock at the destroyed settlement. Curie cried out and covered her mouth in horror, she had loved this place and the people in it so much and had come to care for them like family and in the blink of an eye something had stolen it all away. Curie slumped to the ground not understanding why this had happened, why the Commonwealth had to be such a cruel place.

Danse: Before he had found out he was a synth and worked for the B.O.S, helping out settlements and clearing out the filth to cleanse the Commonwealth had just been a job, he was only following orders as a soldier, nothing more. With Sole though he had learned compassion and he actually began to care about what really happened to the settlers and the people of the Commonwealth, he didn’t view this place anymore as just another stepping stone in a mission. It took awhile for people to warm up and trust the former Brotherhood soldier but they soon realized what a changed man he had become, and where thankful for any help he could provide. Afterall Sole had faith in him, so why shouldn’t they give him a chance to.

In the past week him and Sole had been frequently getting distress signals from settlements along the coastline due to an increase in super mutant attacks. Both of them had been out here for awhile helping build up defense’s, setting traps, trying to provide weapons and training to better equip the settlers so they wouldn’t always have to depend on them for protection. Things had settled down and him and Sole had packed up ready to make their way back to Sanctuary when another distress signal blared over the radio on Sole’s pipboy. They had already made some good distance when leaving so it took longer for them to reach the area again and Danse felt horrible when he saw they where to late, super mutants had already razed the settlement and were gathering up the leftover spoils and munching on a few unlucky settlers. Danse felt his blood run hot as he glared down the mutants with disgust, he was going to make them pay for this! He began firing at them with Sole following close behind covering his back, the mutants didn’t stand a chance against the rage that was fueling Danse in his attack.

Also yes I left Dogmeat out on purpose

[houndofcu]

Archer just yawned and sprinted past Cu and the three hungry Chimeras trying to eat both of them like the snaccs they are. "I'll deal with the boss servant. You can do what you do best and play with pussy (cats)." Yes, that red hoe just left you here. Teamwork? Hot guys battling back to back? Not TODAY fangirls ( and everyone else thirsty for these two)

THE FUCK WAS THIS MAN DOING? Of course this asshole would leave him to deal with the tainted pussy while he dealt with the boss servant on his own. It didn’t help that he was a damn caster too, even if the master said he’d synergize better with this form. Synergize his ass! Like hell they were gonna coopereate in the first place! This was living proof of this right here, and it was typical that the asshole would be the one to betray him too.

“OI YE BITCH! THERE’S BITCH IN THIS PUSSY! I CAN’T EVEN EAT IT (out)!” 

He wasn’t risking the dogmeat after the last blunder with a Chimera. Instead, he’s gonna leave these damn lion cat dog things more burnt than charcoal! Using the ancient magic of his heritage, the druid drove his staff into the ground, forcing wooden branches and wicker tendrils to sprout up out of the ground underneath, weaving an elaborate but sturdy cage around each. With another wave of his staff, runes soon covered the entire cages, as fire now ignited inside, burning the beasts alive.

“Damn pussy ain’t good enough to be even sniffed at. The nerve of that Archer.” Now he was really pissed, and he wasn’t about to let him get off the hook that easily. Using a massive surge of magical energy, two pairs of Woden arms burst forth from the ground, grasping it with surprisingly strong fingers so they could pull up the rest of the construct. The lumbering behemoth then knelt down to swipe up the flaming trapped beasts in cages, entrapping it within the prison of it’s own body before setting itself alight. 

However, something was now amiss with this Noble Phantasm. Normally, it should’ve been completed, the effigy prison burning it’s contents alive in a final sentence. Yet if one looked closely, one could see powerful runes of protection sealing the entire cage, sealing off the flame magically while fire and wind runes only stoked the flames further. Power was building inside, but it seemed that it had nowhere to go.

THUD. 

The construct had now fallen to it’s knees. 

THUD. 

Now it had fallen on it’s hands as well.

The magical “pressure” had been building up intensely, and Cu had wild look on his face, the look of a mage who’s new wizardry had now come to fruition. He wasn’t really sure why, but he was damn excited to try this idea out. And whatever was going on, the damn construct’s head was pointed where Archer and the boss were fighting.

“TAKE YER DAMN TAINTED PUSSY BACK YE DAMN MANWHORE! WICKER MAN: BALLISIC WODEN!” A burst of flame now ignited the head, and the built up magical flame burst out from where the opening now appeared, and the charred carcasses of the Chimeras soon followed suit, though they were now in some sort of mess of a flaming projectile hurled towards his targets. Was it a crude? Of course, but after he had seen what Napoleon’s canon could do, he couldn’t help but try something himself, just this once. Besides, that damn Archer had that damn Rho Aias in his pocket. He was gonna survive.

[diinofayce]

War Never Changes - 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader | Word Count: 4.6k | Warnings: mentions of drug use, Fallout/Avengers cross over, perspective switches from Reader to Bucky at some point in the middle randomly, sorry! | 

You and Bucky were brought in front of Blood Mary, she sat behind a large wooden desk with chunks of wood charred and missing in a large torn leather back chair. Her “office” was the top level of a large skyscraper, the other floors dedicated to living and torture and raid planning by the rest of the gang. The small emaciated woman still managed to sit tall and imposing, her skin was a dark cocoa and it was cracked with deep wrinkles and lines despite being stretched thin across her bones. Her grayed hair was dreaded like yours but while your kept your platinum locks wrapped with bits of thread and candle wax, she kept hers held together with blood and dirt. She had an air of confidence and her brown eyes were still sharp as a hawks, constantly flicking between you and Bucky and the dog who sat alert at your feet. While physically she appeared to be a woman who could be easily overpowered she held such an air of strength and authority no one even dared to try. Bloody Mary, the junkie queen of crumbling New York.

Two men flanked either side of her, they were shirtless and slave collars sat heavy on their throats. Dried and freshly dripping cuts criss crossed their torsos and their scalps had been roughly shaved, their eyes were sunken into their sockets and while you were sure they were supposed to appear as acting guard it looked like a strong breeze would knock them clear over.

You ground your teeth, gaze flicking from Mary to the guards to the exit door where you knew two women who were the real guards were waiting for you to make a mistake. Your fingers twitched towards your guns, but you didn’t dare touch them, that was the last thing you needed, a shootout on the top of a skyscraper full of people who wanted to see your head on a pike with the men.

Mary glared at your face, the scar reminding her of your insubordinate actions and her favoritism when she let you live. Her eyes moved to Bucky who played his part and looked down at his feet, even though you could sense his rolling tension and unease.

You cleared your throat and drew her attention back to you.

“Why are we here, Mary?” You demand, your tone harsh and impatient.

Mary sucked air in through her front teeth and laced her long, bony fingers together. “You will remember who you speak to, child,” Mary responded, her tone cold but nonthreatening. The men on either side of her shifted nervously and she slammed her hand down suddenly on the desk in front of her with a loud slap causing both men to flinch. You and Bucky, however, didn’t move an inch.

You licked you lips and cracked your neck. “I’m not one of your little girls anymore, Mary. I work for myself, I work for you, I work for the King, I work for whoever I decide is worth working for.”

The corner of Mary’s upper lip curled into a snarl and she leaned back in the rusting chair causing it to squeal in protest and laced her fingers together on her lap again. “You’ve gotten a big attitude out in the Wastes, the last time you had a big attitude I had to correct it.”

“Then one could counter I’ve always had a big attitude. I have a job to do, Mary, so unless you have a business offer I’ll be taking my leave,” you asserted, chin raised in defiance and hands on you hips.

You felt Bucky tense beside you just before the door to the office behind you banged open and the two women who had been waiting outside stepped in, each wielding a 9mm submachine gun. You turned to look them up and down briefly and then turned to back to Bloody Mary, showing them your back to prove you weren’t threatened by their sudden appearance.

Bucky, however, was at war within himself. He knew he could take everyone of these people down easily, except you had taken back all of the guns before entering Queens. On top of that, his arm was killing him, he was pretty sure something in this universe and his didn’t mesh well with the technology that Shuri used. He saw you cast him a look from the corner of your eye and he clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together and the muscles twitching in irritation.

Bloody Mary looked Bucky up and down and clicked her teeth together in thought, she curled a long dread around her bony fingers and smirked. With a tilt of her chin her girls left the room, throwing you a hard glare before shutting the door behind them once again. Mary ran her tongue along her cracked and bleeding top lip and leaned forward onto her elbows.

“I do have a job for you, Transporter,” she replied, spitting on the floor at your feet with your title as if it had put a foul taste in her mouth.

You simply raised an eyebrow expectantly, giving no indication or promise that you were going to take the job she was about to hand to you.

“Elvis has stopped sending us their end of our trade agreement. The girls are starting to withdraw and things are getting…well…bloody. I need you to find out why he’s stopped holding up his end of the deal. Promise me and I’ll let you and your partner go,” Bloody Mary countered.

Beside you Bucky looked up sharply, connecting gazes with the dark skinned woman in front of him. She smiled wide for the first time, showing how pleased she was at being correct that there was more to the man in the slave collar than expected.

You cast Bucky a sharp look and his ice blue gaze flicked from Mary to you and then back to the floor. The last thing you needed was for him to give you away. You looked back to Mary and turned your head slightly to gaze out at the door where the other two girls stood.

“Mary, I would like to speak candidly,” you said carefully, licking your chapped and sun-blistered lips.

Mary threw her head back and laughed joyously, her dreads falling off her shoulders and down her back. “Girl, nothing I have ever been able to do has been able to stop you from speaking candidly.”

Narrowing your eyes you took a deep breath and made direct eye contact with the woman who taught you so much. “I remember a strong leader, one that everyone was afraid to cross, I remember her being surrounded by a fearsome army who no man dared to oppose. Mary, in the handful of years I’ve been gone you’ve all turned into a bunch of junkies dependent on a bunch of men. If you really want me to, I will speak to Elvis on your behalf but I really don’t think it would be in the benefit of The Queens.”

Mary sat back in her seat and folded her arms in contemplation. You took a moment to look out of the broken window and calculate the height of the sun. You click your tongue against your teeth and match Mary’s position. “Look, Mary, I have a set time line I need to stick to and I wanted to be through this territory by now. I’ll talk to Elvis if you really want, but if you change your mind the send word through the sewers.”

Mary nodded. “It is good to see you so well, child. I will think on your words and be in touch.”

You bowed your head slightly in respect and whistled softly for Dogmeat to be on your heels before opening the door, motioning for Bucky to stay close as well. The pass through Queens went without issue, Mary must have gotten the word out quickly enough to make it so the girls only glared Bucky down but didn’t make any threatening moves or comments. As soon as they hit the opposite gate that would let them out into the crumbling New York streets and equal territory, you let out a deep breath that you didn’t even know you had been holding.

A girl with hair like sunshine and a rusted bloody tire iron sat on the hood of a burned out car at their approach.

“Huh, heard you got a bit of synth shoved into your face,” she called as you and Bucky approached. Her green eyes raked Bucky’s form flicking from his collar and lingering on his arm. “Picked up a half synth boyfriend while you were at it?”

“Watch your tongue, Mattel, I’d hate for you to lose it,” you sneer, coming to a halt at the gate.

Reaching out you grasped the gate lock to let yourself out, it happened faster than you could blink. Mattel had whipped out a .38 snubnose revolver and was pulling the trigger aimed at you. A clang of metal against metal had your gaze flying up to where Bucky had stepped between the two of you and thrown his metal arm out in front of the bullet. His arm made an angry and sputtering whirring sound as he retracted it, deep glare levied at Mattel who was staring at the two of them with her mouth agape. You simply looked from Bucky’s arm to Mattel, Dogmeat was growling softly beside you. Clearing your throat you pulled open the gate lock and tilted your head to motion your party through.

“Always a pleasure Mattel,” you simper before tossing her the lock and slamming the gate behind you.

As soon as you turned around you startled from Bucky standing right behind you.

“Please, please get this thing off of me,” he whispered, a threatening growl low in his chest.

Your eyes flicked up to his and you nodded slowly. Reaching carefully into your pocket you showed him the key and gingerly tilted his jaw away from the lock. Sliding the key into the slot it beeped rapidly a handful of times before quieting and light turning off, allowing the hatch to unlock. You pulled the collar away from him carefully and he visibly relaxed, but eyed you carefully as you tucked the mini bomb back into your backpack.

“There was nothing about any of what just happened that was enjoyable,” Bucky muttered rubbing at his neck.

You chuckle darkly and readjust your backpack on your shoulders. “Yeah, sorry about all that. Thanks for the save, by the way.”

Bucky shrugged as he took the gun you passed him and slid it back into a holster. “Well, can’t get out of this place without you.”

Clenching your jaw you nod briskly before turning and heading down the street with the sole purpose of getting rid of this damn gun, getting your caps, and getting on with your life.

Bucky blinked a few times in confusion as he watched you turn almost cold very quickly. Dogmeat trotted off after you, happy as ever with his tongue lolling out to the side and his tail wagging lazily. With a soft sigh he reached up to tie the hair he had let fall to hide his face back off his neck, wincing as his left shoulder clicked and whirred angrily, getting temporarily jammed, before it raised fully to let him manage his hair. Setting off behind you, remembering to make a bit of noise as his feet hit the cracked and weed filled pavement, he took a moment to look around him.

He hadn’t spent much time in Queens since the 40’s so he couldn’t exactly point out any major buildings in the area and he wasn’t even really sure if anything from his dimension was the same in this one. Everything was so strange and foreign which was frustrating as he was finally getting his bearings back in his own time. Now to be thrown into this…well he was proud of himself for holding himself together so well.

There were plenty of people milling about the streets, sitting on broken stoops and hanging out of molding and destroyed windows as they shouted down to people in the street. He watched you keep your chin up and your gaze forward, paying no attention to any of the commotion around you. He jumped slightly, his head swiveling to the left down an alley as he watched a man shoot someone else at point blank range, loot his body, and move on like nothing happened. No one else around him so much as flinched and he licked his lips nervously, what kind of world was this?

You approached a doorway, the red paint coating the wood looked new compared to the buildings on either side of it. You waited for Bucky to catch up before raising a fist and banging three times on the door. A slat cut into the wood slid away and a set of watery, bloodshot eyes appeared on the other side.

“Y/N?” the man whimpered, his voice high pitched and grating.

Bucky watched your good eye twitch slightly before plastering an obviously false smile on your face.

“Igor. I have your present.”

The eyes flicked over to Bucky and seemed to appraise him looking back to you.

“The man?”

“In training.”

“His mark?”

“He’s in training, Igor,” you insisted.

The slat slammed closed and you let out a huff of air at the sound of locks clicking, you looked over your shoulder and rolled your eyes at Bucky just before the door opened.

The man on the other side of the door was very short, barely brushing over five feet, and only had a handful of gray hairs sticking long and wispy out of his liver-spotted scalp. He wore an old suit that was moth eaten, dirty, and poorly fitted. Bucky wasn’t sure what sort of property was going to be on the inside and his eyes widened to see all the glass cases and plaques lining the wall, all housing a different variety of weaponry. It was a literal museum of guns and missile launchers and weird homemade melee blades and bats and irons.

As you unclipped the 50mm from your back holster, Bucky slipped around you as quiet as a ghost to look with wide eyes and a lax jaw at all the different weapons mounted on the walls and nestled in secured cases.

“Don’t touch anything, Bucky, you’ll get your death of a shock,” you said absently over your shoulder as you weighed a satchel of caps in your hand and eyed the contents inside with a merchant’s gaze.

Igor watched Bucky nervously, wringing his hands in front of him until you put the gun in them. He eyed the gun hungrily and ran his tongue sloppily along his lips like a dog licking its chops.

“She’s beautiful. Does she work?” Igor asked looking up at you excitedly.

You shrug nonchalantly and tuck the pouch of rattling bottle caps into your bag. “There was only one round of ammo. I figured I’d leave it for you.”

Igor basically squealed in excitement. “You are just the very best, my girl. Yes, yes, just the very best.”

He wrapped one his small hands around your elbow, his nails were long and yellowed and cracked and you held back the expression of distaste and the bit of vile that crept up your throat at the unwanted touch. Bucky was at your side in an instant, he moved to reach for Igor’s hand to remove it from your person but his left side clanked and wheezed angrily again and Bucky winced.

You looked from the brunette’s pained face to his arm with a pinched brow. Igor’s weaselly gaze roved over Bucky’s metal arm as well.

“You should really hide weapons that don’t work,” he said disdainfully before dragging out the back door of the building to a small courtyard.

Bucky growled in frustration before stomping out behind you and taking in the small fenced lot. The tall wooden planks were topped with razor wire and three tall, thick, posts were stuck into the ground in the middle. On the center post was tied a man who looked all sorts of cut up and bruised. At the sudden arrival of the three of you to the lawn the man started kicking and squirming against his binding, his screams muffled behind the cloth wrapped around his head and gagging him.

“Caught me a thief,” Igor explained lightly, eyes flashing with excitement.

He turned the gun over his hands, finding and releasing the safety and settling it against his shoulder. Bucky watched the small man with brows lowered in apprehension. 50mm guns gave a hell of a kick, even Bucky was left with a bruised shoulder after shooting one and he didn’t see how this could go well for either of the men both in front of and behind. You moved away from Igor to sidle up next to Bucky and crossed your arms over your chest, biting the corner of your mouth in either anxiety or concern, Bucky couldn’t quite place the scrunched up look on your face.

As Igor braced the gun on his shoulder and raised the sight to his eye and the man tied to the post hastened his screaming and frantic struggling, Bucky stepped a little to the side to brace himself in front of you. You looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow, but the corners of your mouth quirked up in a smile. It had been a long time since anyone had placed themselves in even the smallest amount of danger to protect you, even if it was done unconsciously as it seems like it was with Bucky.

Igor took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. Just as Bucky predicted the gun had quite a hard kick and it sent Igor flying backwards, Bucky simply reached out his right hand and caught the small man by the back of his grimy jacket. The man on the post, however, was nothing but a broken pile of goo. Blood dripped down the fence and neighbors poked their heads out of their windows with a glare at the loud bang that the gun made upon firing.

“Oh! She works beautifully!” Igor wheezed, rubbing at his shoulder. He patted Bucky on the elbow in thanks and tottered his way back inside his house, leaving the gory mess for the birds. “Yes, just beautifully. I think I’ll name her Agatha!” he continued to prattle as he pulled a large key ring off his belt and unlocked an empty case, placing the gun inside before sealing it back up again.

“Do you get thieves often?” Bucky asked gruffly, he could hear the low thrum of electricity that flowed in the walls and into the cases. It would feel simply like a taser shock to him, but it would easily knock out if not kill a burglar.

“You know, I don’t really notice. Sometimes I just have to sweep a little more often,” he gave Bucky a wicked look that made his stomach roll. The man may be seem small and weak but he was definitely a sadist.

“Well, Igor,” you piped up before something could happen. “Since everything is as it should be, we’ll be on our way. Send word with Carla if you find another lead.”

Igor bustled to the front door and opened it up for the three of you, Dogmeat had been sticking close to Bucky’s hip the entire time inside the house, his fluffy tail between his legs and away from the cases. Once on the stoop the red door slammed closed behind you and the clicking of locks back in place allowed Bucky to let out a terse breath and cast you a look.

You frowned up at him and shook your head. “Judge all you want, but the caps are good.”

As the sun set down below the remaining skeletons of skyscrapers and apartment buildings Bucky and Dogmeat followed you to a small rundown almost chateau looking building. It had a filthy and shredding American flag on a post sticking out over the entry way. You turned to Bucky and looked him up and down.

“Keep your weapons away,” she commanded before simply opening the large oak door and leading the group inside.

Bucky looked around the lobby of what he realized was a small hotel. A few people, sunburned and worn out, sat around tables on rickety chairs and drank out of mismatched and chipped mugs and glasses. One woman held an odd meat pie in her hand and was breaking apart the crust absentmindedly as she stared out the front window of the hotel. Bucky realized he had lost track of you for a moment and whipped around to try and find you, he spotted you at the front desk chatting to a small red head girl who was blushing furiously at whatever you were saying. The girl whispered a response which had you tilting your head back and laughing joyously, it was so honest and light and even though Bucky had no idea what was being said it made him smile.

Treading over the mildew ridden brown carpet over to you, you looked over your shoulder and tossed him a quick wink with your mechanical eye, it caused his heart to stutter oddly in his chest and he shook his head trying to clear it of whatever confusion emotions you were causing in him. The redheaded girl cast Bucky a glance and giggled at you before passing you a small brass key.

“Thanks, Anna,” he hears you whisper, as you brush your fingers over hers when you take the key. Anna flushed an even deeper crimson and waved softly as you led Bucky and Dogmeat up the stairs to a hallway lined with doors.

In front of door 4 you slid the key in the lock and opened it for Dogmeat to slip in, Bucky nodded you in ahead of him with a tilt of his chin and you rolled your eyes at him. He immediately locked the door after he filtered in and then went ahead and scoured the entire small unit to make sure there were no surprise visitors and to map out the weak points of entry…which admittedly was the entire room. The downside of this version of New York was structurally it was all bad, the windows were mostly blown out and in most places there were walls missing entirely. In fact, what Bucky thought was one hotel room was actually two because the wall that had separated 4 and 6 was missing with large scorch marks around the giant hole in the middle.

“I figured you’d want your own space, so I paid for a double,” you answered his unasked question as he stared at the wall with the giant blast hole.

“I appreciate it,” Bucky answered, and it really did. It made him a little less nervous to be sleeping around her when he knew she had enough room to escape from him if needed. His arm wasn’t working in this new world he couldn’t be sure the work that Shuri had done for his mind was working still either. Certain things that had happened had him feeling the Winter Soldier stirring just under the surface of his consciousness and he was praying to whatever Gods were out there that he stayed quiet.

“Course. I’m going to need to have a look at your arm though.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky snapped looking at you harshly.

To your credit, the coldest stare that Bucky could levy at you didn’t even make you flinch. You simply opened your bag and pulled out a strange looking device that looked like a fancy sonic screwdriver.

“What the fuck is that?” Bucky asked with trepidation.

“Robot Repair Kit,” you answered simply. “I know you’re not a robot, but it’ll fix what it can until I find out where Tina is hanging around.”

You patted a stool that was sat at a small breakfast table. Bucky sat down hesitantly and placed his left arm up on the table. You drug your stool around and sat down in front of him, running your fingers softly down his metal bicep and easily finding a panel to flip open.

“I don’t know nearly as much as some of the tinkerers around here, but I know enough to get you by.”

Bucky winced as you stuck the device into the opening on his arm and flicked a button. A soft humming sound came from the kit and as Bucky looked down to try and see what you were doing he couldn’t help but smile softly at the fact that you were running the thumb of your bracing hand up and down his bicep in a soothing motion as you poked and prodded and zapped.

“I’m rather sore with you, you know,” you said suddenly as you chewed on your bottom lip in concentration.

“Why? I did everything you said,” Bucky argued, immediately defensive.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m actually less sore with you because you handled all of today so well. I’m upset because you were hurt and didn’t tell me. Do you know how dangerous it is for me and for Dogmeat, let alone you, to not be fully functioning?” You pulled away from his arm momentarily to swipe some of your white platinum hair out of your eyes.

Bucky looked down at his hand abashed. “Yeah, sorry, it wasn’t so bad yesterday.”

“But it was bad yesterday?” You scoffed and ducked your head to get go back to work on his arm. Bucky stayed silent, he knew that you didn’t need an answer from him at this point.

“I have never seen this metal, is it unique to your time?”

“Uh, it’s unique to a certain region in my time, yeah,” Bucky responded.

“I don’t think it can handle the environment here. I’ll get a missive out to Tina, she should have some spare synth parts. Usually does.” You decide and toss the expended Robot Repair Kit on the table before closing the hatch on Bucky’s arm and patting it softly. “Hopefully it wont lock up on you though as much now.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said softly as you picked your way through the blown up wall.

“Listen, I don’t do the whole…working with others well so please know I’m putting a large amount of trust in you. Don’t keep shit like this from me again.”

With that you disappeared into the other room and Bucky sighed, ripping his hair out the tie and running his fingers through the chocolate locks. Standing and rotating his left shoulder he noted that it did move a little smoother and the in the few places it did catch and jerk it didn’t hurt nearly as much. He looked out the shattered window to the New York skyline as it glowed with the blues and oranges of the sunset, he frowned at the underlying soft green glow that he assumed was coming from the water in the bay. He thought when he finally got a chance to really look over the harbor and the skyline it would be in his New York with Steve and Natalia and - as annoying as Sam was - Bucky missed him too. He had hoped to actually get to speak to Stark in person and not over any of the screens in Wakanda. He also thought about what Shuri and Steve were going through right now, he knew from experience that Steve never gave up looking for him but how in the hell would they find him here?

[nuclear-reactions]

Hi! I love your writing so much! I don't know if I submitted this ask. So sorry if I did and forgot. Given Shaun somehow is able to "age" or progress as a person, could you write the different kinds of childhoods he'd have and what type of person he'd become based on the companion Sole raises him with. (And could I pretty please have a bonus where he's raised a little by everyone?)

(Thank you! Andyou’re fine, as long as you don’t spam me with a bunch of requestsyou don’t have to worry about resubmitting the occasional ask.Dogmeat and Codsworth excluded in the solo reactions)

It takes a villageto raise a child; Sole and their compatriots take this phrase maybe atad literally. On the bright side, Shaun has a deep, deep pool ofaunts and uncles to draw knowledge from on subjects he isn’t familiarwith. Danse and MacCready often fight over who should teach him toshoot (“I can hit a bloatfly from two miles out, I think I canteach a kid how to handle a gun.” “If he doesn’t plan on scoutingout sniper nests for a hour before every altercation, he’ll learnfrom me!”). Strong is the cause of his first broken bone when Shauntries to have an arm wrestling match. Curie is the one to set it andscold Strong. Cait and Hancock sneak him his first tastes of alcohol,each thinking they’re the only ones who do so. Cait in particular,after an intense round of day drinking, gives him an impromptu sex edlesson, and it’s an almost too honest -and descriptive- answer toShaun’s question of what sex was, not to mention quite different thanthe diagrams Curie showed him on reproductive organs. Piper isundoubtedly his best aunt, or at least, the closest thing to awell-rounded adult figure in his life. She’s usually the one he comesto with problems, and also dispels many of the myths Deacon handsdown (“No, you do not become a werebear if you eat charred yao guaimeat.”) Nick is more of the grandfather that knows card tricks.Codsworth is Codsworth, remaining the same mildly overbearing nannybot he’s always been. Preston never really gets the hang of him. Hetreats him a lot younger, being unsure what kids Shaun’s age are “into”. X6 isn’t the most helpful when it comes to rearing kids, andShaun only really turns to him when he wants brutal honesty.

Between the lot ofthem, Shaun ends up fairly well-rounded, with an…eclectic set ofskills, to say the least. He’s taught a little of everything. When itcomes time for him to leave the settlement, he leaves on dozens ofhandshakes and more than a few proud tears.

Danse- With Danse, he is groomed intothe picture of an army brat. It goes without saying that hisupbringing is strict, sometimes even a little harsh, but loving andfull of happy memories as well. Danse is not entirely warm, but then,he’s not entirely cold either. Sole never lets Danse treat Shaun toomuch like a Brotherhood initiate. They have to remind him now andthen that they’re not going to shoehorn their son into a militarycareer when he’s instructing him on the meticulous way a soldiershould make his bed in the mornings. He does learn a lot onmaintaining power armor and firearms, and leans more into becoming amechanic when he starts working. That, or following his father’sfootsteps into the Brotherhood (though he’s not popular, consideringDanse’s history with them). Making his father proud is tantamount inShaun’s mind, he pursues any life that would do just that. Danseraises him to be brave in the face of doubt, do what feels right, andto never let others decide your fate.

Hancock- Despitehis laz a fair approach to his own life, he does try to set Shaun ona better path than the one he ended up going down. He cleans up alittle, weans himself from the harder chems, and if he does keep afew habits, he doesn’t do them around the kid. He’s very much the “goask Sole” type of father, and Shaun gets away with a lot aroundhim. Just enough to be considered a mischievous kid and not adelinquent. He gets his first taste of beer early, his ownswitchblade, his own tricorn hat when he’s old enough it doesn’tslough off to one side of his head. Shaun adopts a lot of Hancock’svirtues, his self-confidence, loyalty, leadership skills, charm, butis taught to avoid many of his vices (which is mostly Sole’s doing).If he doesn’t end up taking up Hancock’s mantle of mayor, he likelyends up leader of a group like the Minutemen, leaving a string ofbroken hearts along the way of whatever path he treads. He’s acharmer, quick witted, and is taught to use his head above all- whichalso consists of keeping it clean. He doesn’t take up the casual chemuse that Hancock suffers from.

Deacon- Littlewhite lies are all Shaun is really allowed, yet he makes the best ofthem, and he develops a good poker face early on. Deacon is morehonest with Sole than anyone else, but first and foremost, he is apathological liar, prone to wild stories, and Shaun adopts that alittle too well. He impresses his school mates with all the storiesof his heroism, like the time he took down a radstag single-handed with nothing but a hunting knife. His tall tales either earn him agullible flock of followers or a beating from the kids smart enoughto see through his bravado. But he doesn’t just learn lying fromDeacon- he also learns compassion, fighting for what you think isright, protecting the people who are most vulnerable. And he is thesingle hardest kid to trick. He sees through deception just as easilyas he carries it out, so he quickly unravels most of the stories kidsget told (Sole has a nightmare of a time trying to convince him ofSanta Claus). His tendency towards “exaggeration” places him inthe position of a salesman later in life, hyping up his wares justenough that they seem shiny and appealing. If not that, then he’dfind himself with the Railroad, helping in whatever cause they followwhen the Institute is gone. Learning from Deacon’s mistakes, hebecomes an honest liar, easy going, and fights for the marginalized.

Piper- Havingmostly raised her little sister on her own, Piper sidles prettyeasily into the role of a mother, and his childhood is earnestlyclose to “normal” with her and Sole as parents. As normal asthings ever really got in the Commonwealth. He does, however, getinto scrapes in search of stories for Piper to cover. Being aninvestigative journalist is on par with being a spy in his mind-keeping your eyes and ears open, finding contacts, meeting in secret.He mostly grows out of this, but Piper still instills in him a loveof the written word and a desire to educate the Wastes on thingsbeyond the farms and cities they relegate themselves to. He takes totraveling at a young age, writing of his experiences in theCommonwealth and eventually, the rest of the ruins of the UnitedStates. If he doesn’t become a writer, he likely goes into lawenforcement, making sure (like Piper always taught him) that justicecomes to those who wrong others. He’s as silver tongued,compassionate, and as worldly as the woman who helps raise him.

Curie- She’slearning how to act human as much as Shaun is, so she mostly goeswith whatever Sole says when it comes to raising him. They knowbetter than she would; despite knowing how to keep kids healthy, shehad little experience with their emotional needs. Still, she does herbest. She reads him stories, partakes in nightly rituals like tuckinghim in and humming him to sleep, and when he’s too old for all that,she giddily encourages him in his studies. He learns more from herthan anything taught in school. She teaches him not only how to treatdisease, but passes on a genuine compassion and desire to help, tolearn, to make the Wastes a little better in some small capacity.When the time comes for him to strike out on his own, he travelsfurther than Curie ever has in search of knowledge, and exchanges theknowledge he brought from the Commowealth. He saves lives, being akind and caring figure all the while. He becomes everything Fathercould have been before he was twisted by the Institute.

Nick- Having arobot detective as a father is probably the coolest thing a childcould experience, and Shaun is in near constant awe of Nick. Nickhimself takes easily to being a dad and enjoys it. Shaun is his son,and really, with them both being synths cast from similar molds, itnever once felt like he wasn’t family. Having someone he could passthings on to… it was more than Nick had ever really hoped for. Hespends much of his childhood in the glow of the heart-shaped signoutside Valentine’s Detective Agency, reading through old case files,picking over evidence from new case files, and each case is a puzzlefor him to piece together. He grows up sharp and inquisitive, eagleeyed with a nose for lies. He also learns as much about synth’s innerworkings as he does humans. Nick needs the occasional tuneup whenSole isn’t around, so he helps now and then with the screws andpanels he can’t reach on his own. With this knowledge, if he doesn’tend up taking over the agency, he goes out to help runaway synthsstill wandering the Commonwealth, confused and with heads full ofmemories that aren’t their own. He grows to be perceptive, a naturalproblem solver, and sets the wrong things right wherever he goes.

Cait- Her biggestfear, besides sliding back into old habits, is becoming her parents.She does her damn best to be a good parent almost entirely out ofspite. Shaun is absolutely spoiled rotten. If Sole won’t give himsomething, he asks Caits, and nine times out of ten he gets what hewants. She’s as short tempered as she’s always been, yet for him, shekeeps it together. For him, she does better. She’s also wildlyprotective, and unsurprisingly, teaches him most problems can besolved with his fists. He’s reared knowing how to stick up forhimself, and the two of them spar a few times a week until he’s oldand skilled enough to actually beat her in a fight. By the time he’sready to leave home, there is no doubt in anyone’s minds that he’sbeen raised to take care of himself, whatever is thrown at him.Strength and fighting skills usually don’t amount to much more thanfalling in with a gang of raiders, but Shaun knows that’s not thelife either of his parents want, and the thrashing he would get ifCait knew he even considered it, so he goes into work as a bountyhunter, a body guard; anything that lets him both use his skills andsleep with an easy conscience. He’s a little wilder, a little louder,and grows up to be a fighter.

MacCready- Havingsome experience raising kids, he takes in Shaun without secondthought. Duncan has a big brother when he arrives in theCommonwealth, the two of them taking to each other almost right away.There’s hardly a day they’re separated, playing catch and shooting BBguns with their father. Shaun is protective and immensely proud ofhis younger sibling, and MacCready can finally loosen the tight griphe’d kept on his youngest son. He still keeps a watchful eye over thetwo of them, but he feels like, finally, there was someone he trustedimplicitly to keep Duncan safe. Of course, the more he gains, themore he fears losing, and he can sometimes be a bit harsh if eitherone of them do something dangerous. He couldn’t take losing them.This drives Shaun to leave at a fairly young age, learningMacCready’s stubbornness and the bravado of his youth, and Duncan isquick to follow. The two, having been taught to shoot guns beforethey could read (as well as stay out of the thick of fights) endup becoming a formidable pair of snipers. They know better than tojoin up with the Gunners or other mercenary gangs, instead becomingguns for hire. Freelance killers with a bit stricter moral codes thantheir father. If only a bit. He’s cunning, careful, and a hell of agood shot.

Preston- Being asyoung and new to parenthood as he is, he isn’t entirely prepared toraise a child who came to them fully formed. He’s anxious, alwaysconcerned he’s doing something wrong, but he does the things hisfather did for him. Teaches Shaun to shoot, the importance of a goodbook, that being kind is a reward in itself. He also teaches him thethings he had to learn for himself; that it’s fine to cry, to not beokay, to rely on others for strength when you feel like your own isfailing. Shaun’s childhood is as bumpy as any child’s is in theCommonwealth, but with Preston, there’s light even in the darkesttimes. He carries this indomitable sense of good and rightness withhim even when he’s grown, and if he doesn’t settle into a simplerlife in a settlement, he joins the Minutemen, carrying on the valueshe’s been taught. Preston teaches him the strength in community, thathope and mercy are not weakness, and to always lend a hand, whateverhe does.

X6-88- He hasspent more time with Shaun (this version and technically, the humanShaun as well) than Sole ever has, only, just not in any kind of parentalrole. He ferried him back and forth from the Institute and theCommonwealth and their relationship never went far past that. It wasstrange, suddenly being a role model for someone. Siblings, parents,family, they weren’t really an option for synths in the Institute.For Coursers, even less so. The first few years, he’s more of abodyguard than a parental figure. Learning to let go of the deathgrip he has on Institute protocol and the image of synths as tools,that takes awhile. Shaun helps. He loves him, which meant a synthlike X6 was capable of that. It was a comforting thought that one dayhe’d feel for Shaun what Shaun felt for him. He relies more on Solefor getting through the emotional turmoil of youth, as most of X6’sresponses to trivial things like school and first loves is fairlycold indifference. Not like he really understood it, he’d been madewithout thought for such things. He was still navigating some things(like first love) himself. What he does instruct Shaun in mostlypertains to combat, though he does teach him a skill that helped X6survive in the Institute- masking your true emotions. He’d have beenreprogrammed a long time ago if he hadn’t picked up that talent.Shaun grows up somewhat cold with him, making a habit of keepingthose pesky feelings to himself early on, to the point not even Solecan really coax them out of him. Not fully. As X6 learns how to bemore human, Shaun learns to be more machine. His nature andintelligence veer him, oddly enough, into politics. From X6 he learnscold calculation, the importance of keeping your cards close to yourchest, and that there’s little use for remorse.

Strong- Childhoodwith Strong being a co-parent is… weird. To say the least. Soledoes everything they can to keep him from feeding the kid human meat, eventhough he insists it will help Shaun grow big and strong, but now andthen there are a few bits of mystery meat sneaking their way into hismeals whose origins Sole couldn’t quite suss out. Regardless of hispotential foray into cannibalism, Shaun does, surprisingly, learn athing or two from his Super Mutant guardian. Mostly the things a mancan say that will make their fellow man spontaneously shitthemselves. More than a few scrapes with older children ends withShaun bellowing in his closest approximation of Strong; “THIS ISWHAT DEATH LOOKS LIKE UP CLOSE!” Despite Sole’s best efforts, Shauntakes after him, even beyond shouting his throat raw.Many arguments with him end in headbutts. He grows into a young manwho takes no shit from anyone, who understands brutality can be anecessity, and who fights with the feral tenacity of a mutie. Ignoring family protests, he goes into raiding (ever the lucrative business)and is renowned for his uncanny ability to shout down Super Mutantsbands that encroach on his band’s territory. That, or he’s a respectedfighter in the nearest Thorn. Sole might have more influence on hismorals, but Strong passes on the knowledge of Super Mutants. Whichisn’t much beyond violence and shouting. He grows up pretty confused.

[longsleeveloser]

i forgot ur char is named dogmeat and i thoughtth u were talking about dog dogmeat

Dogmeat explaining in depth about how the children of atom removed his organs and stuffed him with radioactive flowers and Papa Khan is sitting at the table slightly mortified because he never asked and kind of wouldn’t have wanted to know