#maxson is horrible

[hrefna-the-raven]

Heart of Steel

Fallout masterlist - main masterlist

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8

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Summary: Maxson suffers through his hangover and makes preparations for the last evening before he'll need to let you travel to the Glowing Sea

Notes: a bit of an inbetween chapter, the next chapter will move faster through the story to finally move it up to Blind Betrayal :)

Warnings: smut (18+)

Chapter 9 - The morning-after-date

Maxson groaned, the throbbing headache along with knocks felt like a jackhammer demolishing the inside of his head. Despite the lack of response, Cade decided to enter and walked towards Maxson who buried his face into the pillow.

"Not now", he grumbled.

"I'm sorry Elder, but I'm here on behalf of a worried Knight. I  don't care how she knew, but given the state you're in, it was the right call to send me."

Reluctantly, Maxson allowed Cade to pull him up to sit on the bed. His eyes, bloodshot and weary, met Cade's concerned gaze.

"What do you want, Cade?", Maxson asked, his voice tinged with both annoyance and despair.

Cade reached into his leather bag and rummaged around, searching for something. After a moment, he pulled out a glass bottle containing a blueish liquid and held it out to Maxson.

"My very own anti-hangover recipe", he offered a gentle smile, "as to what I want, you instructed me to keep track of every soldier's mental health, which includes you as well. So you want to tell me what happened?"

Cade grabbed a chair from the desk, pulled it up to the bed and took a seat, watching Maxson inspecting the liquid before taking a sip.

"This is horrible", Arthur complained, the disgust on his face evident.

"Worse than the headache?", Cade asked, chuckling as he saw Maxson shake his head.

The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of Arthur's deep breaths. He looked at Cade, his gaze filled with hesitation, knowing the weight of his words as soon as they were spoken. With a resigned sigh, he began to recount the events around you that had led them to this moment. His voice quivered as he confessed that the weight of leadership and the constant struggle to balance it with his love for you had become almost unbearable. The responsibility of the Brotherhood's future rested on his shoulders while the desire for intimacy and love tore at him and it had taken a toll on him. Cade sat in attentive silence, his face a mask of neutrality, as he listened to the Elder's every word. When the Elder had finished, the doctor looked at him for a moment, a gentle smile forming on his lips before he spoke up.

"Arthur," he began, his tone gentle yet firm, "your burden is not yours alone to bear. We are a Brotherhood and we stand together, which also includes her now. I can assure you if you'd know what your soldiers are doing in their free time while still performing their duty with best consciousness, you'd be less worried about all this. Why do you keep torturing yourself? If you're in love with her, just tell her and see where is goes. It won't prevent you from being the Elder, you can still chase us all around."

Maxson chuckled at the last sentence. The doctor was right and it wouldn't matter that he had no experience on the matters of love, you never judged him for it, so all that held him back from gaining a little happiness in his life was he himself. He tapped the doctor's shoulder, thanking him for the advice and before he headed out, Arthur had to promise him to take care of himself and talk sooner next time.

You dedicated the entire day to enhancing and repairing your power armour. You had planned on checking in on Maxson but as you would head out to the Glowing Sea tomorrow and dying of radiation poisoning wasn't on your to do list, you postponed your visit to this evening. After a refreshing shower, you swiftly made your way back to your quarters. However, you came to a sudden halt when you noticed a neatly folded crimson fabric and a piece of paper resting on your bed. Intrigued, you examined the items more closely and discovered that it was a flared scarlet dress accompanied by a message. The hastily scribbled note simply stated: 20.00 Control tower. A grin danced on your lips as you had strong suspicions about who had left this here and you wasted no time slipping into the dress. Crafted from a soft garish red fabric, it hung snug around your chest, perfectly highlighting your cleavage, whereas from the hips downwards, it flared out gracefully, falling just above your knee. You put on some make-up, stepped into a pair of well preserved black ballerinas you found during your travels through the Wastelands and you made your way towards the control tower, excitement mingled with nervousness in the pit of your stomach. You couldn't help but wonder what awaited you at the top of the tower.

Finally, the elevator doors opened, and the sight that unfolded before your eyes left you in awe. The control tower was transformed into an enchanting setting, bathed in soft glowing lights that illuminated the space with a warm, romantic ambiance. Countless candles flickered and cast dancing shadows on the walls, creating an ethereal atmosphere. And then, you noticed him. Standing there, dressed impeccably in a pair of black suit trousers and a tight white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, was the person you had suspected all along. Maxson awaited you with a gentle smile on his face. His eyes locked with yours, full of affection and a hint of desire as he took in the sight of you in that dress.

"Surprised?", he chuckled, taking a step towards you, his hands sliding around your waist to pull you into a hug.

You hummed in agreement, closing your eyes, inhaling his sweet scent before you took a step back again, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Do you remember yesterday evening?", you asked hesitantly.

"Why do you think I spent most of my day redecorating this tower?"

"Oh I don't know...perhaps you got up this morning and decided your grand plans to save the Commonwealth needed a more artistic flair?"

"I woke up with a pounding headache and Cade's disapproving glare thanks to a certain Knight", he joked, "I think said Knight may need to have a serious conversation with her superior."

The sultry tone of his voice went straight to your core. Placing a hand on his chest, a sly smile formed on your lips.

"Perhaps her superior should take care of that then", you whispered, your eyes darting between his and his mouth.

Maxson grew tired of the self-imposed restrictions, the desperation and fear, he only cared for you right now and he leaned in, his lips crashing on yours in a hungry kiss, finally letting go of all that was holding him back. His hands glided down your sides, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your butt. You gasped as he lifted you up, moving a few steps forward to settle you down on one of those faint blue pre-war machines. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours for any sign of approval.

"So, you wanted to talk to me", a mischievous grin formed on your lips, "here we are and I'm all yours", you purred, your hand trailing over his chest, "Elder."

Maxson let out a deep groan, pressing his forehead against yours and you could feel his grip on your thighs tighten. He had never thought the sound of his title could ever arouse him like this but every word leaving that irresistible mouth of yours had the potential to drive him crazy.

"Knight", he breathed, his lips trembling ever so slightly, "I...I..."

He tried to ignore his lust, the sweet temptation of your hand caressing the bulge in his pants, he had to resist for the sake of the most important words he'd ever speak.

"I love you", he took a deep breath, "I want this to be more, I want us to be more, a future for us."

You couldn't help but smile, pulling him closer to hug him tight.

"Me too", you murmured as you trailed kisses down his neck.

You felt your dress shift up while something pulled your underwear down and as you looked up into his blue eyes you saw the endless desire within them. You swallowed a moan at the sight of him, his lips parted slightly, his gaze trailing over your body while he threw your panties to the ground. Your mind went wild, flooding with images of how he'd fuck you right there but he suddenly dropped to his knees, parting your legs and dragging his tongue through your folds.

"Arthur", you cried out, your hand reaching for his head, your fingers entangling in his dark brown hair.

His licks were sloppy but relentless, drawing you closer towards your orgasm each time his tongue circled around your clit. His lips wrapped around your sensitive bud, sucking gently as he pushed two fingers into you, humming satisfied at how wet you were already. Your head fell back against the window, wondering for a brief moment if anyone could see you from the Prydwen but all thoughts were washed away the moment he started thrusting his fingers faster. You were so close, a breath away from the ocean of pleasure you'd gladly drown in but you needed more of him. You pushed his head away, panting while trying to calm yourself a bit before speaking. He got up, worries written all over his face but you wouldn't give him time to voice them as you took his hand, bringing his fingers to your lips and licked them clean. It was the moment Arthur almost fell apart, feeling his cock twitch within his pants while watching you unravel him with such a simple gesture.

"Arthur please", you pleaded, your hands fumbling to unfasten the buttons on his trousers before swiftly pulling them down.

He growled, rubbing his throbbing cock against your wetness. It was almost too much but the threat of sending both of you over the edge became imminent as he glided into you, your walls clenching around his length while both of you moaned loudly. He paused for a moment, breathing heavily, chuckling quietly upon seeing that you were as desperate as he was, pupils blown wide with lust. You wanted everything he would offer you, a burning desire to melt into him, nestled forever within his soul. Arthur began moving, slamming his hips into yours at a sloppy pace. Sinful moans filled the control tower as the shadows dancing on the walls bore witness to your intimacy. Your arms wrapped around his neck, lips clashing on his as you came, legs trembling as love and pleasure blossomed in a mind-shattering orgasm. Feeling your walls clench around him, Arthur promptly followed you, spilling his seed within you, moving away from you after a last few sloppy thrusts. Both of you were panting, broad smiles painted across your lips as you gazed into each other's eyes. Arthur took a rag, cleaning both of you up before taking your hand and leading you to the window, staring into the night sky.

"So what will happen now?", you asked, feeling his grip tighten at your question.

"Whatever we want to happen", he replied, "and after you return from the Glowing Sea we continue our plan to destroy the Institute and I will help you rescue your son."

He turned towards you, the sight of the affection held within your eyes made him weak. He delved into the knowledge of pre-war life, exploring the simple joys that people once experienced, the traditions they held dear—a glimpse into the life that could have been yours. In the harsh wastelands, where time showed no mercy, he yearned to bring you solace, even though romance and leisure were scarce commodities, especially within the ranks of the Brotherhood. Which was exactly why he had planned to ask you something important this evening but upon being in your presence, his courage faltered. Fear and uncertainty crept in, questioning whether it was too soon. He had no experience in such matters and was not long around his parents to grow old enough to ask them for their guidance in such matters. And although he valued Owyn's and Sarah's counsel, they never broached the subject of love with him. The connection that bound you two, it felt unique, a rare treasure he'd neither find nor share with anyone else, a truth he held close to his heart for now. He feared you might not be ready yet, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you, not at this moment. And so, he led you back to the Prydwen.

Chapter 10 - Institutionalized

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story :)

[lynettethemadscientist]

Wait are you talking about Vault-Tec Rep??

You mean the ONE (1) human person that has a direct connection to your Sole’s past life? The man who’s already so horribly broken by his experiences that he doubts you would even come to visit him at your own home???

Holy fuck if Danse said that to my Sole (who’s already been shattered enough by the loss of her family and entire world that any small connection to another person feels like a lifeline) she would flip. She would shove him against the wall and scream in his face “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?? YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW AND APOLOGIZE TO HIM OR WE ARE NOT FRIENDS”

There was a post saying how nice Danse can be randomly which I liked so I’m putting what it made me think of in contrast in a separate post.

Danse is so fucking evil sometimes man. After having a full bittersweet conversation with a living breathing human being who you reconcile with and invite to your home to live with you because he is lost and lonely Danse says, while the guy is still right there,

“That thing shouldn’t be living anywhere. It should be put out of its misery.”

THAT’S A PERSON MAN!!!! That’s a fucking person!!!!! That is a human being with radiation burns you fucking freak. Like holy shit the Brotherhood is evil but so is Danse himself and he would have continued to be evil forever if **spoiler warning** he hadn’t found out he was a synth.

I’m not a Danse hater but this happens to so many people he meets all throughout the game and we need to keep in mind just how horrible of a person he can be and is for the majority (if not all depending on your route) of the game.

[lordsammichsilas]

I've been working on some comic stuff and decided to take a moment to write another piece about my favorite tin can soldier.

I've noticed a lot has been made about how Danse's vocabulary and how he speaks. A lot of fan wikis online attribute it to his being a synth. Piper even mentions it after the initial conversation with Maxson at the beginning of Blind Betrayal. MacCready will mention Danse is about as emotional as a bag of hammers, assuming it's due to Danse's synth nature.

The thing is, his being a synth isn't the reason he's like that. It's the Brotherhood.

Think about the other synths in Fallout 4. Nick, Sturges, and Magnolia for example. They speak like regular people. It's because they live among regular people of the Commonwealth. The only synths who speak in a robotic fashion are gen 1 and 2 synths. Gen 3 synths are indistinguishable from humans and get socialized as such.

Danse was in the Brotherhood where he had been a paladin for at least a decade. The most recent years of that are in Maxson's Brotherhood. Arthur Maxson and most of those loyal to him do not like outsiders and do not want the Brotherhood fraternizing with outsiders. Fiction and entertainment are contraband on the Prydwen, something that alienates soldiers from the people of the Commonwealth even more. It's the reason Danse calls movies a “moving picture show” and comics “illustrated manuscripts”. The Brotherhood is what alienates him from humanity, not his being a synth. If you only know existence as a soldier and you don't take interest in human things with other humans, you end up speaking like that. (Think about a lot of right wing weirdoes online talking about the objects of their moral panics and how they sound.)

Edit: another point I want to add here is that not only is he isolated from the rest of the populace due to being in the Brotherhood, but there’s a chance he’s isolated from the lower rank soldiers in the Brotherhood itself. In a structure with a strict hierarchy, I wouldn’t be surprised if high ranking officers fraternizing with knights and initiates is discouraged. You get the feeling that he’s never confided in anyone since Cutler died when speaking to him as the Sole Survivor.

Danse held a fairly high rank in the organization. One could expect him to be pretty literate and have a decent vocabulary. (There's also the common critique that the military is a cult in its own right and just mindlessly following orders turns you into a soulless robot to a certain extent). Danse is intelligent, but not particularly charismatic. He will openly admit he's not good at talking to people on a personal level because he has no experience with it. Also being a field commander of soldiers and being responsible for their lives requires you to keep a level head and not show emotions.

What I find interesting are the reactions all of the companions have to his being a synth. Even though he was kind of a dick to everyone during companion swap scenes, all of the non-humans (except Strong) are not only against executing him but seem all but willing to throw hands on his behalf. He was horribly rude to Nick and Hancock in particular, however Nick goes out of his way to empathize with Danse and Hancock basically tells Maxson to go do it himself.

With the human companions, MacCready and Cait support executing him. Piper is sympathetic, but still leans on a stereotype to make a comment about how he talks. Preston and even Deacon are against killing Danse, but their commentary after that scene are more about the nature of the Brotherhood itself rather than Danse's wellbeing.

This just goes to another reason I find the writing for FO 4 incredibly frustrating because the storytelling here is excellent. There's a lot of nuances and you actually learn things about the other companions and the world they live in from doing an entirely different companion's story. The solidarity the nonhuman characters show for a synth that was part of an organization that wants to eradicate them and he himself was pretty rude to them while the human characters' reactions are far more mixed is something we need to talk about more.

I'm not normally a huge supporter of redemption arcs mostly because I think they've become a bit overused and not every character necessarily deserves one. I think Danse does because he is someone who means well and fell in with the wrong group in the process. This could have been the start of a really satisfying character arc, but instead all development just stops after your last affinity conversation with him.

[fallout4-reacts]

An actual prompt this time! I know you're busy and have plenty of things to write yet, take your time.

Soo I was thinking that maybe companions (and Maxson) horribly failing at confessing to Sole. Like for example they could clear out some Raiders, companion is impressed, tries to confess BAM Sole gets fucking decked by random raider they didn't kill. I feel like you could get pretty creative with that one. Like deathclaws, something exploding, just settlers running in, other companions interrupting etc.

Yeah! Sorry for my waiting list but this one just take me out of my bed literally Maybe it's better then just writing nothing and you all will forgive me... I will not taking it as an habit but it was just what I needed I think And maybe an EPIC ask... I think it will be (not in the sense I'll do an epic job, in the sense hmmm Titan Quest like the F.E.V. one and all) Oh, and take note you ask for... horribly

Part 1

Danse / Deacon / Nick Valentine

(Part 2 : Hancock, Preston, Strong)

(Part 3 : X6-88 alone because of a bug)

(Part 4 : Gage, MacCready, Piper)

(Part 5 : Cait, Curie, Codsworth, Dogmeat, Elder Maxson)

Danse : Sole returns. Sole returns to the bunker after a few days. Danse had time to clean and make the space more comfortable. He didn't consider establishing his new camp there because, after all, he didn't consider living at all.

But now he did.

And Sole came back.

Danse kept himself occupied during his few days alone, trying not to worry about what was happening to him. But he pondered his new envision of himself. Beyond the initial distaste, he felt a sense of conviction, similar to how Sole stood.

Whatever he is, he is a person with convictions for which he fought. He was a man of honor —a synth?— whose his brothers and sisters could trust.

He'd come a long way. His damned way into this group that turned his back on him after he had dedicated his blood and soul for them. And Maxson, whom he almost considered a friend, treated him as if he were a worm to be crushed.

After being reassured that he agreed with Sole on his right to life, his thoughts couldn't help but wander.

He recalls Sole standing in front of him, defending him against Maxson.

And even more.

More, a lot more.

He can't help but replay in his mind all of these events, all of these moments. When Sole emerged as an avenging angel, slaying all the ghouls in their way, Danse was convinced that his squad's final hour had arrived. They entered the paladin's life as a mythical entity, too great for regular mortals, an enigmatic spirit of the times sent to save them.

Then there's how they forced a comedy at Fort Strong while killing mutants. Danse had admonished them a few times for their lack of seriousness in the face of a critical assignment, but he couldn't keep a smile from rising on his face in the midst of their antics.

And all of their nonsense, every time they could.

Danse had pieced together Sole's intentions and the horror of their past, and he couldn't help but admire this person's trustworthiness. When Danse expressed concern about Sole's moral status following such heinous ordeals, Sole merely grinned and remarked that the companionship they were blessed with helped them get through.

Even after they returned from the Institute, learning the injurious truth, they had held on, had rounded the corner, and Danse felt better to know he had been by their side to help. To morally support them.

And now that Sole is standing in front of Danse again, slightly smiling and wondering what's next for him, Danse feels his throat tighten.

Because Danse has realized that he has strong affections for Sole.

Much more than a simple friendship.

He nods slowly.

"Perhaps we should consider venturing to Sanctuary. I am unable to endure it any further. First and foremost, I am a soldier, and a soldier without a purpose doesn't progress very far. I humbly express my desire to align myself with the esteemed Minutemen's structure. In the utmost, their cause is righteous, and they shall not forsake me nor open fire upon me. I have received word that their General harbors a troubling acceptance towards synths."

"They tolerate and love them a lot," Sole admits with a half-smile.

They proceed without adding anything. Thus far north, there is no road that crosses directly, at least not according to Sole. As best they can, they cross the countryside in wreckage, cutting valleys and hills.

And Danse remains quiet, lost in introspection.

Yes, he likes Sole a lot more than simply as a friend. There's a lot more. Soon, Sole will return to their Rail Road operations, to which Danse has never been requested (and he now understands why), while Danse will begin his Minutemen duties, most likely limited to the Castle for the time of his training. And, while it appeared to him at first to be the finest way to fill his days, he now has a peculiar uneasiness at the prospect of leaving Sole without delivering anything of what he feel upon them.

They are in the midst of the wreckage of a plane that crashed there two centuries ago. They passed through a few Minutemen (apparently, it is in the profession to check out every nook and cranny of the Commonwealth), but they are now alone and isolated in front of the cabin of the downed craft.

He clears his throat slightly in an attempt to catch the attention of his partner.

Sole looks at him.

"Something's wrong, Danse?"

When the realization occurs to the fallen Paladin that he would never again have his title before his name, he swallows hard. But that's not the issue he's having right now.

"I…I'm not really a man of words but…"

Sole erupts in laughter.

"Are you not a man of words? Yes, you ate a dictionary at birth!"

For a few whiles, the poor man panics, unable to restore balance after the sting of Sole. He had seized his courage in both hands in an attempt to open his heart, and his partner had fallen back into amusement. But he needs to tell them. He has to. He knows deep down that he has to.

"Sole, please."

They instantly calm down, recognizing that the man in front of them appears to be death serious.

"Oh, sorry."

"Don't be like that. What I'm trying to say is this—

Sole's expression shifts from calm to dread in an instant, while Danse hears the anger of a beast he despises beyond all in his back. He despises her much more now that she's interfering in such an important situation.

He turns, weapon in hand, to fully answer to the deathclaw, and then follows a long and deadly combat. The beast is fierce and perhaps ancient, and it not easily defeated.

When they eventually prevail against the monster, with a few bites and scratches here and there, Danse don't dare trying again to express himself. And Sole now has to patch them up as soon as they find out a settlement, so they regretfully didn't think to inquire furthermore.

Deacon : His deathly bunny and he jumped into a plethora of wolf dens. Nothing, however, tops being in his favorite den.

The spy like it when Sole stays for the evening and then retires to the back of the HQ for a well-deserved rest. Despite the fact that he does not require sleep himself —as a synth, eh��� he enjoys lying on the mattress next to Sole when they ask it, with a roll of the eyes at his answer.

They normally spend a few more moments on their mattresses talking about everything and nothing until one of them falls asleep —more often then none Sole, because Deacon is a synth, yup.

"Tell me again how he almost swallowed his beard."

Sole bursts out laughing.

"I told him to go to hell. That I was only in their camp for my friend Danse, and that by turning their back on him, the entire organization may roast, I would never support them again. Anyway, it's irrelevant now. Let them go to fight like the big boys they are against this blasted Institute and get the heck out of my territory."

Deacon like it when Sole becomes engrossed. The fire in their eyes awakens his heart's hearth. He would never have confessed to them. Never. Never previously has it's not have seems important.

There is still a serious moment, which Sole elaborates on.

"It's very little Deacon, to remain silent and, moreover, serious. What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing, you know. There isn't much to eat here. Perhaps a programming error. Perhaps I should run a diagnostic."

Sole's chuckling is priceless. Deacon smiles quietly as he listens to the pleasant melody in his ears. They stare at him again when his friend grows still serious.

They sit on the mattress and motion for Deacon to do the same. As he straightens, the spy stares down. Sole is right. He has words on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't dare to voice them for the first time in his holy life. Sole gently takes his hands in their, searching for his eyes.

"Deacon, you know you can tell me anything?"

The man glances into the other side and swallows cautiously. Yes, he has the right to tell Sole anything. But what about that? Can he? He has to. He has a debt to Sole. He owes them a frank and honest sincerity. And even the thought seems weird to him. A straightforward and open sincerity? He has no recollection of what it tastes like.

"I'll be honest then," he says, hesitantly, as if he must step into the void. "It's been a while since I should have told you."

He takes a deep breath, ready to blow it all, when an unusually powerful vibration is noticed.

Sole turns their gaze towards the headquarters, and suddenly they hear screaming and gunshots.

"But…"

Deacon leaps to his feet. This kind of roar his still heard in his worst nightmares. Just like the day the Coursers assaulted the old HQ. But isn't Tinker Tom meant to put cameras? How did the Coursers gain access to the facility, this time?

"The Brotherhoods!" yells someone from within.

Sole and Deacon are already on the front lines of defense, positioning themselves to hold the soldiers for as long as it takes for the others to flee. They didn't even need to talk. With Gloria, they hold the line and exchange gunshots with their enemies, keeping them in respect for so long that Deacon is confident their friends will have no problem to disappear in the ruins of Boston. Gloria then makes a strangled gasp and collapses to her knees, her gun no longer firing shots. Deacon peers at her, fear on his face as he realizes his friend has been badly shot.

"Glo!"

A grunt and a thud behind his back make him fear the worst. He attempts to hold the BoS at bay, but his weapon is too slow without Gloria's gatling and Sole's assault rifle.

Desperate, he throws a couple of grenades into the tunnel to gain time, and he manages to push the invaders back slightly.

He rushes alongside Sole right away.

"Eh!"

His friend clutches their bowels in agony, or what remains of them. Deacon wraps his arms around them and softly cradles them.

"Don't worry, everything will be alright. Let's go locate Carrington."

As he glances around, searching in the room... he realizes that the doctor is among the casualties. He growls and attempts to drag Sole further away, hoping to hide them.

"We're going to get through this," he said. "We're going to get through this, I promise" he repeats dejectedly.

“Liar,” breaths Sole before becoming limp in his arms.

Nick Valentine : They came to a halt near the GNN, in the ruins of an abandoned house of which he believes was once a settlement.

He finds it weird that the occupants simply vanished overnight, leaving no trace.

It happens occasionally, such as at University Point, although there are traces. There are dead settlers, downed synths, evidence, and clues.

But here, just the emptiness of tranquility, as if no one had lived there since the war.

But Sole is worn out, hungry, and thirsty, and all he wants is one evening off, possibly one night.

While his companion actually runs aground on a dingy old mattress in the living room of the modest house, Nick ensures that nothing threatens them. When the synth returns from his excursion, his partner hasn't moved one inch.

He moves careful closer.

"Well, ya gotta keep that belly of yours satisfied. And imbibing a beverage would assuredly be a wise course of action."

He was met with a growl in response. He looked around. The previously residents provided a fire pit. He reaches over, takes Sole's bag, and begins cooking something for them.

"I'll rouse you from your slumber once the soup is ready."

Another grunt joins in. He can't help but sneering. Of course, he finds a cauldron (even two) and every necessary instrument in Sole's backpack to prepare the thrifty dinner. Water canes, carrots, and a piece of meat that he starts cutting into small cubes. He whistles merrily, converting himself into a maid of the household, as he frequently does with Sole.

"Ah, the pangs of nostalgia for the flavors of garlic and cilantro doth visit me on occasion. Parsley and mint!

“Salt, pepper,” Sole mumbles under their arm, their head shifting slightly to reach a more comfortable position.

Nick digs deeper into the bag and uncovers a pepper and salt shaker.

"Well, I must say, this here stuff seems to possess quite the remarkable dose of radiation, and it should lacks any discernible flavor."

“Still good,” corrects the other.

Nick chuckles a little and adds the condiments, pleased to be able to improve the soup he's making.

He sits down and glances around the room while waiting for the meal to be ready. It had to have been a nice house. Here had to live a lovely little family. He takes note of the stairs. The bedrooms should be on the second floor. Children, most likely. A pleasant existence.

Normal.

His gaze is drawn to the limp figure on the mattress. His artificial lips slowly form a tiny smile. Sole, in all their magnificence, is a stunning, authoritarian, and noble individual. But the visual of Sole spread out, blindly trusting their companion for safety, entirely abandoned to the sleep that stole them, is something that few can boast of seeing.

And Nick owns it.

He has it all and meticulously details his friend.

And once more, this odd sensation arises in the hollow of his components.

It happens from time to time. Often. More and more. When their gazes cross. When they cheer at a triumph. When a file is closed. When they're simply the two of them at the end of an evening by the fire. When Sole departs for a while and then reappears on his doorstep.

And Nick can no longer mislead himself.

He experiences a feeling. This is not a programming error. His circuits are flawless in that. It's just a true, intense, genuine emotion.

He serves a bowl of soup and kneels next to Sole, softly shaking their shoulder.

"Stand up, Sleeping Beauty, lunch is served!"

Sole scolds and growls but sit in front of Nick, gratefully taking the bowl that their friend hands them. They begin to eat it carefully, as if lost in contemplation. And Nick can't stop admiring them, always fascinated by the elegance of their features and the brightness in their eyes.

His companion frowns as they glance back at him. "I got something stick in my teeth?"

Nick sighs and laughs a little.

"There's absolutely nothin' on here. None of it, pal."

"So what?"

"It seems that this, ah, old carcass of mine hasn't been spinning as smoothly as I'd prefer for quite some time now."

Sole places the dish on the ground, their face etched with anguish and earnestness.

"Nick, what's wrong?"

The synth is astonished.

"Oh, nothing to be awry. Not quite how you're envisioning it. It's just a tough nut to crack."

"Say so, and we'll figure it out together. Perhaps I am able to help you."

He places a sympathetic hand on Nick's metal one, the synth constantly amazed at how tactile Sole is with him despite his nature.

"How can you…help me?"

Even though Sole is the organic, it's Nick who swallows with difficulty. He lowers his head, his eyes hidden by the brim of his fedora, but Sole's hand rises from his to tuck beneath his chin.

"Hello, I'm here. I will always be there for you. No matter what."

After getting some good breaths, Nick takes the plunge to opens his bag. He opens his mouth to respond, but then a radroach erupts between them, knocking the bowl of soup over and driving both to rush to their feet and draw their weapons.

After the "vicious" opponent is dispatched, a nice laugh and a new bowl of soup, Sole raises an eyebrow.

"But what did you want to tell me, before our surprise guest wasted your delicious soup?"

Nick swallows and makes a dismissive hand motion.

"Nothin', absolutely nothin'. Drop it..."

[imisslucasbaker]

arthur maxson is only a likeable character to me if I make him an absolute boyfailure, the biggest loser you've ever met in your life who just got really good at pretending like he's all smart and cool but really he's horribly cringe. he should be at comic con talking about transformers not controlling an entire army

[harrycollins]

Arthur is a horrible bigot, racist, genocidal etc. etc. but he becomes way more interesting if you realize he was always doomed from the start. He had no other choice, no escape from his fate. Being born as a Maxson he was always destined to be brainwashed by the Brotherhood of Steel and groomed into the leader they wanted because he was the heir of their founder. His bloodline defined him doomed him. 'They say my soul was forged from eternal steel, but I don't believe that. I'm really just a normal boy.' except they never allowed him to be a normal boy.

[dailydemonspotlight]

Night Stalker - Day 119

Race: Foul

Alignment: Dark-Chaos

October 3rd, 2024

While much of the SMT series makes demons based on figures from mythology- gods, biblical demons, or even cryptids- one thing they sometimes dabble in is a bit more... controversial. Or, well, it would be, if not for the fact that, like Tony4You said, the people depicted deserved to be called demons. Yes, sometimes SMT makes demons based on real world people, and while I've already covered one- Jack the Ripper, to directly say- something far more explicit and unexpected is today's Demon of the Day, and a man who was truly among the worst of the worst- Richard Ramirez, the Night Stalker. As a serial killer who was responsible for the deaths of possibly more than 13 people, sometimes the scariest beings we can think of are our fellow man, so let's delve into this spotlight.

Ricardo Leyva Muñoz Ramirez, born Febuary 16th, 1960, was one of the most infamous serial killers to ever strike America in the mid-eighties, getting the nickname the 'Night Stalker' after a spree of 14 murders that ranged from 1984 to 1985. He was responsible for not just those deaths, however, as he was also convicted and responsible for just as many counts of burglary and sexual assault. Born as the fifth child of an immigrant family to the Americas living in Texas, Ramirez's early life was anything but normal- he purportedly sustained several head injuries from an abusive and alcoholic father, and, unable to look up to his father, Richard found an even worse influence in the form of his older cousin, Mike, who was a green beret in the army.

Now, the less aware of this case in our audience might think that a military man was a good influence, but no, he was NOT. Mike, during his missions in Vietnam, had taken several photographs of women that he had raped, tortured, and/or dismembered, saving them all on Polaroids that he then exposed to his younger cousin. During Richard's time spent alongside his cousin, he became well acquainted with Mike's 'exploits' in Vietnam, and as time went on and Mike was arrested and eventually died, Richard also became incredibly interested in Satanism and the occult coinciding with a growing addiction to various drugs.

Then, the killings began. Richard Ramirez was responsible for several break-ins as he got older, killing several people during these break-ins possibly out of that same obsession with Satanism. His obsession with it was to the point that, when attacking his victims, he'd force them to say 'swear to Satan,' in fact, and he even said 'Hail Satan' when pleading not guilty. As he went around Los Angeles and made his spree known, he became known as the 'break-in killer,' and, eventually, the Night Stalker. I'm not going to go into detail about his victims here, as while they do deserve respect that Richard doesn't, I don't want to go over how they were killed out of respect for their families. I'll give a list, instead, of the people who were killed and who they were in life. The victims of a killer don't deserve to be reduced only to being victims, after all.

Jennie Gerber Vincow, 79

Dayle Okazaki, 34

Tsai Lian “Veronica” Yu, 30

Vincent and Maxine Zazzara, 64 and 44

William Makoto Doi, 65

Mabel Bell, 84

Mary Louise Camou Cannon, 75

Joyce Lucille Brown Nelson, 60

Lela and Maxson Kneiding, 66 and 68

Chainarong Khovananth, 32

Elyas Abowath, 35

I think it's important to recognize that the victims of serial killers were still people, and we should be giving more attention to the victims and only using the stories of the killers as explanations and studies of what can lead to someone doing such a horrible thing. I hope all of these people rest in peace. Really, nothing scares me more than someone who will see all these beautiful and happy people and take their lives away without a second thought. Richard Ramirez was scum, and is absolutely deserving of being called a demon. Thankfully, he ended up dying in 2013 due to complications with cancer, and while his blood-soaked legacy still affects the families of those he killed, I hope they're recovering well from the horrible things he did.

Rest in peace, Jennie, Dayle, Tsai Lian, Vincent, Maxine, William, Mabel, Mary, Joyce, Lela, Maxson, Chainarong, and Elyas, as well as the other unconfirmed victims he had. You all deserved much better lives.

[theology101]

Roger Maxson is the most important man in Fallout American History

So tonight, as we break bread together, let us forge together something new. Something strong. Something we can be proud of. Something we can build upon. We'll preserve what's best of what's come before and use it. And one day, we will reclaim what was lost. Let us forge a Brotherhood of Steel.

I love great man history. It is entirely inaccurate and a horrible way to represent trends, war, geo-political power, and the thousands of little pieces that all make up 'history.' Great Man History swipes that all away and instead makes history a Biography, where the steps made by an individual would reverberate for eons to come. In real life, the amount of people who could possibly defined as 'Great Men' is minuscule (by my count, its 5) and its usage in chronicling history is dubious if not non-existent

But for storytelling? Hot DOG that gets my blood pumping!

Roger Maxson was a man on the Brink. His commanding officer, Colonel Robert Spindel had just committed suicide, leaving Maxson in command of the entire military brigade established at Mariposa - 1,500-3,200 soldiers, all of whom had to deal with the fact that their government willingly committed horrors against not only humans, but also American citizens. He was able to gather the families of his men, probably doubling their population numbers, and then watched as a week and a day after assuming command, Roger Maxson watched as nuclear flame wiped clean the entire surface.

This was not like Ellen Santiago on the East Coast, a military leader looking for some hope, some direction. This was a man who had declared independence from his country, had the Rose colored glasses ripped from his eyes and watched as consumerism and imperialism consumed the entire world. Mariposa was a military base... and also a corporate research center. Maxson would have been well aware of the economic situation prior to the war and would most likely have come to the conclusion that America was responsible for its own death.

I brought up Great Man history so let me plug one of those Great Men - Charlemagne. If you were gonna be boring about (IE an actual historian), you would look at how the Franks had been rising in local power for decades, and that Charlemagne used the foundation made by his grandfather and the relationship with Rome that had been fostered since the Merovingians to make the largest military powerhouse seen in the West since the fall of Rome. But if you were gonna be BASED AS FUCK (a bad historian but a good storyteller) you would write about how Charlemagne's personal brilliance and skill won the day. And the latter is exactly what Charlemagne would want you to think - so he had his legends made. Codifed centuries later as Chanson de geste, Charlemagne spent the majority of his time as Holy Roman Emperor myth-making about himself. Establishing epics, wondrous stories, and poems. Becoming more than himself and instead being Pater Europae

Roger Maxson: We need to do something bold. We can't just stay the US Army. What's going to happen, and this is only a matter of time, is some general, or some goddamned politician is going to exit a Vault and start ordering us around. And worse they'll order some grunt to start the whole damned cycle again. Another wave of nuclear death. And if that's not enough they'll do it again. You know they will, Lizzy. It ends with us. We won't let them.

Elizabeth Taggerdy: I... I understand. But a Brotherhood? Knights? I'm supposed to call you, what, Elder?

Roger Maxson: Words have power, Lizzy. They build identity. They take on a meaning if you keep using them, even if it didn't exist to begin with. It was the Knights and Scribes after the fall of Rome that protected what was left of Western civilization. So we are the new Knights and our role is similar. But we'll need more than names. We'll need new traditions, our own, well, mythology. Something people can believe to their core.

Elizabeth Taggerdy: Is this necessary?

Roger Maxson: What else can I do? Declare myself President? Make you a Senator? Look around. Something's killing us more than the rads and freaks out there. Depression. People have lost everyone. Every goddam soul. Wives, kids, loved ones, heck even the mailman. We need to replace it with something otherwise people's souls will wither. We'll be little more than walking dead men.

This quick move paid dividents to the Brotherhood as a whole and the Maxson family as a rule. America was a corrupt, bloated institution that would lead to its own death and cannibalization - so Maxson changed it. A cult of personality, a subculture independent from what came before it, a pseudo-monarchical meritocratic collectivistic state. Bound by their tenets and their Leader

Roger Maxson was a visionary, a man who knew that he had to become more than a man, had to become a symbol. And in fact, so did his entire Brotherhood. That what saved them from the ennui of the Enclave and NCR - they're something new, with their God King looking down at them. And it is this same legend and mythology that will allow for their unification under Arthur Maxson as the new High Elder. Two centuries later, people are still willing to join, fight, and sacrifice for the ideals of the Brotherhood and for the Name of Maxson, and with the adaption of some of Lyon's (and honestly, Roger Maxson's) strategies of recruitment, Arthur has ensured that they will keep going too.

If Maxson had instead simply become "Colonel Maxson of the US Army Remnant" I can guarantee he would be forgotten. But Roger Maxson, first High Elder, will be a name that never dies

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Companions crushing and how they act pt. 3:

Macready:

•Having a nice decent relationship once before and some experience has helped him. Why start like that? Well, for a lack of better words Mac is a mess when he starts crushing…if anything he is better now.

•Gets the typical full fledged “got it bad” syndrome. His hands get sweaty, he gets slightly more tongue tied and he just can’t stop himself from having horribly noticeable staring breaks when he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

•On the flipside, Mac shows a strangely sweeter side of him that most wouldn’t even guess existed. He gets the occasional thoughtful gift, adds even more ammo to your “cut”, and even tries his hand at flirting if the occasion is just right.

Maxson:

•This is one of those few instances that Arthur’s young age becomes startlingly apparent. He hates it. He knows he’s acting like an idiot, he knows he shouldn’t feel that way about one of his soldiers..especially not in the middle of a very hot war..but he can’t stop himself. In short- he becomes a certified jackass for select moments.

•Tends to sort of show off if he knows he has your attention. He’ll make more of a show of his speeches, gesture to you a bit more as well, requests little one on one briefings even though he gets weak in his knees when you show up.

•Really hopes you notice but also hopes you don’t notice his advances all in the same breath. He’s terrified of rejection..but he’s mortified by the idea of getting close and losing even more.

Nick:

•Surprise, surprise..Nick is one of the smoothest of them all!

•Having a quick wit, a distinguished maturity about him, as well as a knack for talking- he pretty much handles the whole crushing thing like a pro. That isn’t to say however he doesn’t act different..because he does..he so totally does. He’ll drag his feet a bit more leaving the agency, insisting on sharing a cup of coffee before heading out- just little changes to his usually tight schedule.

•If his feelings aren’t acknowledged soon enough, he is one of the few that actually will “man” up and talk it out with you. He handles either acceptance or rejection with dignity too. A true 11/10.

[atonalginger]

Through Plasma and Flames, update #31

Hi there everyone! It's Monday which means another chapter has gone live on ao3. Dawn and the crew are back in Diamond City getting everything in order before the march south.

We're in the final stretch TP&F and I'll admit I'm a little nervous. This story has been a major part of my year with planning, writing, and now we're nearing the end. It won't mean the end for Dawn and Vadim, there are still things she has to deal with...in a story that isn't TP&F.

Maybe that's where some of the nerves come from. There are some plot threads that crept in that won't be resolved by the time chapter 39 goes live. *shrugs*

ANYWAY, to find Chapter 31: Staging in the Dugout, you can click here!

And to start from the very beginning at chapter 1 you can click here.

and as always a sneak peek in the read more:

“So the Brotherhood attempted to strong arm two of our farms?” Dawn glanced up from the write-up at Preston and Booker, “ideas on what to do?”

“I’ve already increased presence at those locations,” Preston assured her, “those two are the closest to the airport so it made sense they started there.”

“That will dissuade them for now but we’re eventually going to have a problem on our hands,” Booker sighed, “their quartermaster, whoever that is now, likely has hundreds of mouths to feed and not a single farmer on staff.”

“Not our problem they flew in unprepared,” Dawn looked back down at the report, “they haven’t answered a single call?”

“Not surprising,” Booker admitted, “they don’t work with the outside.”

“No, they simply take what they need by force,” Dawn quipped as she laid the clipboard on the counter, “except I know that’s not true. Paladin Danse hired us to help fetch that long range transmitter.”

“They were desperate,” Preston reminded her, “and his injured knight didn’t agree with his decision. Remember how hostile he was toward us?”

“Yup,” Dawn nodded, “that poor medic had her work cut out with that one.” She chewed on her lower lip and looked to Booker, “what are the chances if we tried to reach out to that Paladin directly that he’d answer?”

“Highly unlikely,” Booker shook his head and frowned, “the paladin and his remaining team were likely reabsorbed into the main group at the airport. Or stationed out at the police station if they secured it.”

“They did,” Preston tapped the clipboard, “we heard about that a few days ago.”

“What if I used his offer as a means to get through the front gate?” Dawn asked Booker, “I go to the airport saying I was offered a chance to join by Paladin Danse and wanted to learn more before deciding?”

The former knight puckered his lips and scrunched his nose as he mulled it over. He sucked his cheek and relaxed his face as the answer came to him, “not a good idea. If you show up with a pitch like that they will assume you’re a spy. They don’t want people just asking questions, even as potential recruits. You either agree and join or you stay away.”

“Well shit,” Dawn frowned, “’cause I certainly ain’t joining up with a military order that uses old medieval and fantasy titles for ranks and believes themselves the only ones worthy of technology.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t recommend it,” Booker chuckled, “they weren’t always like that. I paid attention during history lessons and remember that Roger Maxson simply wanted to protect people. His people saw horrible experiments on prisoners, tests with FEV, and resolved to stop it and stop anyone else who might misuse technology.”

“That does sound like him,” She mused, “but he eventually died and the message got warped over time?”

“Bingo.”

“Maybe when we get back from the Glowing Sea we can try again. See if they’re willing to send someone to meet with me on neutral grounds or something.” Dawn sat back while she fixed her bun.

Booker shrugged, “I think you’d have better luck taming a deathclaw but it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Don’t tempt her,” Preston shook his head.

[hrefna-the-raven]

Heart of Steel

Fallout masterlist - main masterlist

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Song for this chapter:

Summary: You took the opportunity to ask Danse about having a private life within the Brotherhood while Maxson was on his way to see an old friend, someone he knew he could talk to.

Notes: I'm so obsessed with Maxson still being this traumatised boy that grew up all alone in the Citadel so here you go with some more insight into his thoughts and fears :) and some sweet funny misunderstanding with Paladin Danse because he's just adorable in his own way. This is not proof-read, finished it 10 minutes ago and decided to just post to not keep you waiting :)

Chapter 5 - Don't let me be misunderstood

After finally being able to leave his quarters, you swiftly changed into your uniform and made your way towards the kitchen, your hungry stomach growling. The tables appeared unusually empty for this time of the morning, with only Danse sitting there, enjoying a simple breakfast of toast and roasted meat. A sudden question popped up in your head, causing you to wonder about the personal lives of the other soldiers and what activities the Brotherhood allowed them to engage in outside of their duties. Reflecting on your pre-war military life, you recalled being granted quite a fair amount of freedom, including the ability to marry fellow soldiers and enjoy leisure time after completing your duties. However these were different times, with different rules in a strange world. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you approached the Paladin, trying to strike up a casual conversation.

"Hey Danse", you said with a sly smile, "you've brought me to the Brotherhood and I've been curious about a few things we never had a chance to discuss. Like for instance how do you unwind after a long day of battling wasteland creatures?"

Caught off guard by your question, Danse shifted uncomfortably. He was known for his unwavering dedication to the Brotherhood and delving into his personal life was a topic he seldom broached. He believed that he had already divulged more than enough about his past during your encounter at the police station. However, he sensed that you were genuinely attempting to fit in, and he had no qualms about sharing any information that could ease your transition into the Brotherhood.

"Well," he pondered, his face turning slightly red at your sudden focus on him, "I, uh, usually spend my free time focusing on my duties, training and maintaining my power armor."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his response, wondering if Danse even might be the right person for this discussion. The Paladin you got to know made you ask yourself more than once if he even knew the concept of a life outside the Brotherhood.

"No, no, Danse", you said, trying to explain the intend behind your question, "this is all too strict, too much of the soldier life. I meant, do you have any personal hobbies or interests? Something that helps you relax?"

"Oh, I understand. Well, I suppose I enjoy tinkering with my weapons and keeping them in top shape or upgrading them. It gives me a sense of fulfilment."

Impressed by his unwavering commitment, you decided to delve deeper and inquire about what you truly wanted to know. You had no idea where things with Maxson would lead, but given how that man ignited a mix of curiosity, desire and occasional frustration in you each time your paths crossed, you didn't want to rule out any potential outcomes, especially not the ones you secretly hoped for. The way he tugged at your heartstrings despite being entrenched in his stubborn beliefs and the crushing weight that came with the leadership of the Brotherhood, meant something to you. He was by far not the first interesting person you encountered since emerging from the vault but along with him came that feeling of a deep connection, an understanding you'd find with no one else.

"And what about love?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, "do you think the Brotherhood has any against, you know, sexual encounters or relationships with...uhm...fellow soldiers?"

Danse's eyes widened at your question. You caught him alone and discussed all those very personal topics. Thinking back at when he first met you, you were rarely quiet, constantly poking at him with remarks, statements or queries. There had to be more to this than he first thought.

"Uh, well, the Brotherhood focuses primarily on our mission to protect and serve. Personal relationships can complicate matters, so they are generally discouraged but not forbidden. We do in fact have a few soldiers and initiates dating each other", he stuttered, "but uhm if you were specifically asking about me, I truly appreciate the sentiment but I'm sworn to my duty and not available for any...uhm...romantic relations with you."

As you stood there, nervously shifting from foot to foot, you couldn't help but feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. This was definitely not the way you had planned this conversation to go.

"Oh, no no no! I apologise for the misunderstanding, Danse. I was actually referring to someone els...within the Brotherho...you know what? I'm glad we cleared that up. I'm just going to leave now. Bye and thanks."

You hurried down the long corridor, hearing Danse bid his farewells before you sprinted up the stairs and finally got out of sight. It almost made you laugh as you realized that talking to the Elder felt like a walk in the park compared to any conversation with Danse. You headed towards the airport beneath the Prydwen, switching on the radio attached to your Pip-Boy as you geared up for the shooting training. As you made your way closer, the sound of gunfire echoed through the air unleashed a wave of excitement within you. The Brotherhood of Steel's training exercises were renowned for their rigour and you were determined to prove your skills, hoping Maxson would be there to watch, giving you another opportunity to spend more time with him under the cloak of duty.

Maxson made his way down to the airport, the weight of loneliness growing heavy on him, an all too familiar feeling. He needed someone to talk to, someone who'd listen, regadless whether they replied. Surveying his surroundings, he proceeded through a security door at the back of the main building. The dimly lit room emitted a faint aroma of oil as he approached the table. It was a whimsical, childish notion that led him here, but the instant he caught sight of it, a comforting sense of home enveloped him.

"Hello old friend", Maxson whispered tenderly, his hand resting upon the colossal robot head resting on the table.

He leapt onto the table, taking a seat beside the head, his legs dangling and swinging as he shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He felt the sadness of that little boy back in the Citadel who had no friends but was burdened with high expectations because of his name. He chuckled softly at thought that Rothchild wouldn't chase him away this time and if someone else were to stumble upon this place, he could simply claim to be inspecting the Brotherhood's most promising weapon. The perks of bring the Elder now instead of that little boy. He shook his head, scolding himself mentally for even being here, knowing all to well that he shouldn't try to make friends with a machine and yet, who else would listen to him without passing judgment? Perhaps you, but how could he discuss all of this with the person who started it all?

" I apologise for my absence and lack of visits all those years. It has been a challenging time for me, especially after losing Sarah. I didn't know what to do anymore, I was completely alone...", his voice trembled and tears formed in the corners of his eyes, " I trained, I fought and look at me now, Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, upholding the Maxson legacy and striving to protect the people." 

He couldn't hold the tears back anymore, all the weight of loneliness crushing him. He had managed to deceive everyone, including himself, until you entered his sacred space and saw through his facade from the moment you set foot on the Prydwen.

" But I feel alone, old friend, all the burden to bear yet never anyone to confide in, to share it with. But there is someone new in the Brotherhood, joined two days and you wouldn't believe how she's turning my life upside-down."

He chuckled, brushing away the tears from his face, the edges of his lips twitching into a joyful smile as he reminisced in the memories of last night.

"Believe me, if you could meet her you'd adore her too, she is everything I also thought I'd be when I grew up. Strong, kind and fearless in the face of true injustice. I envy her, she can be herself unburdened by the weight I have to carry...sometimes...I...I wish I could just leave, be someone else, be me but that was never my destiny, wasn't it? If you could you'd probably ask me what she means to me, well that is a difficult question. I hold great admiration her, I think there might even reside love deep in that broken heart of mine but I'm also afraid of her in a way. What if I disappoint her? What if I fail to meet her expectations? Given how persistent she was on tearing my defenses down, would she even care for expectations? Wouldn't she simply want the real me? But then again who exactly would that be?"

Arthur leapt from the table, pacing in circles before the head, his gaze fixed on the floor as he became lost in his thoughts. It eluded him how you'd even be able to like him, given how you disagreed with him on your first meeting. You remained a riddle, and the more he tried to unravel you, the more you seemed to fade into the mystery that defined you. A sigh escaped his lips; all his questioning and doubting amounted to nothing. He couldn't negotiate with the worries away that held his heart hostage; the only way out was to confront whatever lay ahead. He had to brace himself for whatever the next encounter with you had in store. His footsteps came to a halt in front of the table once more, his gaze shifting up to the visor of the robotic head. Gently, he placed a hand on it, tenderly tapping the cold metal.

"Thank you for listening my dear friend from days gone by."

He made his way towards the exit, his gaze lingering for one last moment.

"See you later, alligator", he chuckled with genuine joy.

As he flicked off the light and left the room, he knew he had to leave the little boy he missed so much behind, along with Liberty Prime as his friend, all for the sake of the Brotherhood. However, he also held onto a glimmer of hope that, with you, he'd found a new place he could finally find and cherish what that boy always longed for and it left him with a warmth he'd try to keep at any cost.

Chapter 6 - Dream a little dream

Feel free to reblog if you enjoyed the story :)

[thornfield13713]

So. This is a trap, right?

I mean- Shaun just said that he knows Georgia has had contact with the Railroad. And all her contact with them has been in the context of working for them. So now Georgia is freaking out over- does he know, is the next thing he's going to ask of her a betrayal, should she warn Desdemona now-

It's just one line, but it's enough that she almost misses what comes next.

And-

It's a horrible feeling, to look at your son and think that he's grown into a combination of all the corrupt politicians, mad scientists and unethical CEOs of the pre-war world, with a helping of Arthur Maxson's rhetoric about his being the only proper hands for technology thrown into the mix. Georgia is...right now, she's mostly coping by distancing herself emotionally. Closing herself off as much as she can from her own emotions, throwing herself into her work - it's the same technique that got her through the aftermath of the bombs, after all, which is another buried landmine of trauma that'll have to go off at some point, but not until this work is done. At this point, she really doesn't expect to live through it.

Shaun is making that part easier by interacting with her...mostly as the head of the Institute to a favoured minion, far more than trying to approach this as a familial bond. Which- also just makes the whole thing hurt more, deep down where Georgia has shoved away those parts of herself. Sooner or later, things are going to have to explode.

[boohoocthulhu]

Oop, lone wanderer too. My silliest, most developed character. I’ve been working on him since I first played fallout 3 in like, 2015? Had it on my little Xbox 360. It was wonderful, the first fallout game I played. I gave him his own au and everything, because I can’t stand the brotherhood in fallout 4. He got the scar on his eyebrow from his fight with Butch at the beginning of the game, and when he had been in the Pitt he suffered a pretty bad burn to his face. He left the vault earlier than in game, I felt like it would fit his personality better, but it’s only when he’s 16 so it doesn’t make much difference. Also, I forgot his pip boy :-(.

TW: burn scar

I changed cannon so Maxson isn’t so much of a horrible person and the brotherhood actually wants to help people. Also, Arthur isn’t elder in this au, oops.

[rabbithaver]

Tell me about Danse and Cait? I've never played their parts of 4 and I probably never will.

i do not blame you. Fallout 4 can be frustrating because it's very. hm. it feels like a lot of wasted potential. i love it, but it could have (and should have) been... more, y'know? this is especially true for both Danse and Cait; i tend to prefer the fanon for these two over the canon because canon just feels like a lot of missed opportunities lmao

you find Cait as a chem-addicted cage fighter in the Combat Zone, a pre-war theater that's been retrofitted into an arena and is (at the time) occupied by raiders. after going whole hog and killing all the raiders, the owner of the venue basically gives you Cait's contract, stating that until he finds a new audience, she's not going to be able to make him any caps. it's also implied that he's getting concerned about her health, as she's been using chems to keep fighting when she really shouldn't be. she hates it but cooperates, and as you travel together and treat her like a person, she's initially suspicious about your intentions. eventually she trusts you enough to tell you why she's so distrustful of people, and uh... yeah her backstory is rough. her parents were shitty and abusive, and ended up selling her into slavery -- you can imagine the kinds of horrible things that she endured. eventually she was able to buy her own freedom using caps she stole from the people who abused her, and once free, she went home and gunned down her parents. but the damage was done, and she turned to chems in an effort to cope with her past.

her personal quest is... hm. i don't care for it. it's not... it's not well done. basically to summarize, Cait wants to be freed from her addictions, but she doesn't know how and addictol won't work anymore, and going cold turkey would kill her. conveniently, Vault 95 happens to have a magic solution. it's all very contrived and bullshit, and it's very much so a case of the writer wanting to resolve a complex issue with a simple solution. if it were me at the writer's desk, i would've thrown out the Vault bullshit entirely and made it a much more drawn out thing where you have to actually sit with her as she goes through withdrawal at first, but gradually improves and recovers. Cait deserved better than the quick-and-lazy resolution she got.

Danse's story is pretty heavily tied up in the Brotherhood of Steel questline. he's the one who recruits you and guides you up until it's revealed that he has been a synth the whole time. not even he was aware of this up until you retrieve some data from the Institute. when he learns what he is, he flees the Brotherhood, and Elder Maxson sends you to find him and kill him. i prefer not to do this because i like Danse a lot, and i think the concept behind his story is really interesting. i just wish Fallout 4 had done more with it. if they'd taken it just a little bit further, Danse could have had some truly compelling character growth, maybe even going so far as to find pride in his new identity as a synth and possibly even joining the Railroad. but... they didn't, and it sucks because it feels like he only got half a story.

[fallout4-reacts]

k-peasants asked: An actual prompt this time! I know you're busy and have plenty of things to write yet, take your time. Soo I was thinking that maybe companions (and Maxson) horribly failing at confessing to Sole. Like for example they could clear out some Raiders, companion is impressed, tries to confess BAM Sole gets fucking decked by random raider they didn't kill. I feel like you could get pretty creative with that one. Like deathclaws, something exploding, just settlers running in, other companions interrupting etc.

Let's play some game... (Warning : Curie may be intense)

Part 5

Cait / Codsworth / Curie / Dogmeat / Maxson

(Part 1 : Danse, Deacon, Nick Valentine)

(Part 2 : Hancock, Preston, Strong)

(Part 3 : X6-88 alone because of a bug)

(Part 4 : Gage, MacCready, Piper)

Cait : Cait and Sole return quietly to Sanctuary. The path ahead of them is still long, but for the time being, silence is fine. Well, not for very long. After everything that has happened, the fighter remains silent mostly because she is at a loss for words.

It was a shock to discover all of her senses after hiding from reality with Psycho for so long. However, she is currently experiencing one of her most agonizing torments.

Her feelings toward Sole.

It's made even worse by what they just did for her.

Finally, approaching Oberland Station, she urged a stop.

"Pee?" inquires Sole mockingly.

"Talking," Cait says, feeling uneasy.

They notify a nearby tree stump and settle there.

"What do you need to talk about?" inquires the vault dweller.

Cait watches the Charles flows down below, looking for her words.

"You are aware of all that has occurred since Tommy. And right there, you've changed my life. That is a lot."

Sole is worried, but quickly gets back their empathetic look.

"If you want to step back..."

Cait instantly raises her hand and places it on their shoulder.

"No! No, it is not that."

Sole throws themself on the young woman, causing them to fall backwards behind the tree trunk. Cait has a fleeting thought that something is happening far more unexpectedly than she had anticipated. But her thoughts are swiftly brought back to reality when the grenade explodes where they were.

"Gunner?" she inquired.

"Raider!"

As she stood up, the warrior smiled with all of her teeth, holding her baseball bat.

Codsworth : His programming doesn't include it. His programming doesn't include it. In his code, it is not included; he is well aware of the fact that it is not included in his programming.

Not to mention feelings of isolation, agony, and dread, as well as the happiness of seeing his master/mistress come back.

He is a robot, a straightforward bot that was programmed to perform chores around the house. He became an integral part of Sole's day-to-day activities and routines.

Not just as a robot.

As a friend, as a member of the family, and as a close relative.

Far too close.

Yes, it is too close.

As he hands the towel to Sole as they emerge from the shower, he looks aside. This is not something that is programmed into his algorithm. It is not something that he does habitually. In any case, it wasn't. It's mainly now due to the fact that he had never experienced this sort of static that now grabs him whenever Sole touches him or leans in front of him to collect an instrument or a tool, and it is a thousand times worse when Sole undresses. Because he is a domestic robot, then Sole never felt embarrassed by Codsworth's presence.

Today, however, Codsworth is feeling ashamed.

He feels so awful.

He has to explain it to Sole.

With the help of Sole, perhaps they will be able to fix this programming issue and restore it to its previous state.

Normal.

This is not the kind of feeling that he was designed to receive!

"Mom/Sir, would you mind if we opted to have a conversation?"

As soon as Sole reaches for the towel, they drape it around their waist.

"Yes, indeed, Cods, guy. What is the problem here? There is a decreasing supply of Radstag? Would you like me to find some sugar? Is the Assaultron I brought from the hills still making fun of you?"

The Mister Handy's accessories turns three times around him. He adopts a collected tone of voice and makes an effort to ease the peculiar vibrating that his machinery is experiencing.

"In all honesty, none of that is accurate."

This time, the human is unable to stand any longer. They sense that their robot exhibits some abnormal behavior. A pair of pants and a t-shirt are chosen at random by them, and they swiftly put on the trousers.

As they sit on their mattress, Sole lets out a sigh.

“So, I get that this is a very sensitive thing.”

"Very sensitive, to say the least. I am aware that it may come off as unconventional, absurd, or even unpleasant, but it appears that... I have developed a certain... as one may say, some instinct that typically corresponds to humans."

Sole raise an eyebrow once more.

"Typical to humans? Describe it."

At this point, Codsworth musters up all his bravery and takes a deep breath. In doing so, he sits down on the bed next to Sole in the same manner as a typical person would sit down. The one and only issue is that he may have forgets that he is a Mister Handy. Consequently, the bed in question happens to catch fire, Sole still be sitting on it.

They leap on their feet as the fire has quickly spread to them, and they cry out in pain throughout the process. As Codsworth's anxiety levels rise, he makes a mad dash to find a bucket of water at the pace of his truster. By doing so, he arrives at the conclusion that viewing himself as a human being is extremely risky, and that it would be more prudent for him to initiate a defragmentation of his personality module before it progresses to an excessive degree.

Curie : For a while now, the synth has noticed the difference. She understands that having a human body provides her with not only abilities to better explore the world around her, but also the opportunity to explore a complete intrinsic world in the same way.

Some sentiments and emotions.

And out of emotion, she realized she had a tremendous feeling for Sole.

This exploration was everything but subtle. She even felt upset at her friend, initially unable to comprehend why her thoughts kept returning to them.

Curie realized that she had romantic feelings for Sole. The trouble with this delicate circumstance is that Sole is the only person with whom she feels safe discussing her heart's torments. So, the only way out of this dilemma is to confront them and disclose everything.

Curie is still anxious.

And she is completely unaware that this is normal.

She coughs to catch the attention of her companion, who is working with Clem to erect a retaining beam to keep an artificial ceiling over the cave containing Vault 88.

"I can talk to you?" she asks timidly.

Sole rests their shoulder against the massive iron and rubber framework, wiping their brow.

"Is it critical?" they asked her, beckoning Clem to assist them.

"I believe so. It's quite significant.

Sole sighed. Curie believes that now is not the moment, but she fears that she will lose her mind if she doesn't speak. She sighs lightly.

"I understand you are busy…"

"A little, yes," replies her friend. However, their tone has softened significantly. "Curie, you appear to be dealing with a personal issue. If it seems vital to you, speak out. You know I'm always there for you."

Clem looks at the synth and seems to believe that this is the worst moment of the existence for a small talk. But the young man would never dare to oppose Sole, so he attempts to assist them maintain the pillar.

"Here it is. For some time now, I've been experiencing a peculiar storm inside of me, which is causing me to lose control. And you. I think about you all the time. I can't stop. I can't comprehend. I understand, but..."

Curie pauses and quickly looks up at Sole. Her companion has shifted their expression. Their gaze appears even more compassionate than before. They place one hand on the massive pillar to keep it in place and clear their throat.

"If I understand what you're saying—

"The ceiling!" Clem wails simultaneously, springing back.

Sole looks up at the pillar, and Curie's brain detects an unexpected alteration in their face. From affection to fear, the synth barely has time to understand what happens when a massive rock detaches from the ceiling and falls squarely on Sole.

She is so shocked that she can no longer hear Clem's screams of horror.

Dogmeat : "Wouf! Wouf wouf wouf wouf!"

"What?"

"Wouf!"

"Oh, I love you too, my too cute puppy!"

Elder Maxson : It's an unusual idea, but not an unpleasant one. Anyway, Sole has a lot of odd, but successful, ideas.

Maxson enjoys this short walk along the edge of Nordhagen Beach. His Knight urged that Maxson attend the meeting with the settlers' delegate. They had a difficult negotiation, but the BoS is now confident of a steady supply for the remainder of their tenure in the Commonwealth.

Then night fell as they respectfully celebrated alongside the locals.

Then, with the moon high in the sky, Sole insisted on having this little walk.

Maxson finds the trek pleasant... romantic?

He glances toward Danse, who is patrolling the area to ensure that the moment is not squandered, and then turns to his subordinate, who has stopped while perceiving his expression.

"Is something wrong, Elder?"

"On the opposite, or it depends."

Sole didn't appear to be reassured by the answer. The commander clears his throat and attempts a benign grin.

"I reflected on this atmosphere, landscape, and moment. Everything is just perfect."

'Perfect, indeed,' says Sole, distractedly.

Maxson insists, "In perfect company."

The Minutemen General's gaze is once again drawn to their superior. They appear to hesitate before smiling slightly but say nothing.

"What I mean—

"I understand what you mean. I'd have to be stupid, deaf, or blind to miss what you mean."

Arthur frowns. Sole's tone is not hostile, yet their response is uncommon.

"Do I understand that my feelings for you are not shared?"

"Oh, I apologize. It was rude of me. I must have become a little wild while wandering this land, mostly alone. I'm sorry for offending you."

Maxson grabs Sole's hand in his.

“So if I said to you—

"The code of conduct prohibits fraternization between superiors and subordinates," Danse's voice abruptly cut him off.

Maxson almost curses the man beneath his beard, but he stands straight with dignity and strives to maintain his demeanor.

"—that I am very pleased with the conclusion of this transaction and that it is now time to return to the Prydwen?"

When Sole gets their hand back, they can't help but smile faintly. They exchange a glance with Danse.

Maxson then understands.

He curses himself.

[sparrowsingsstories]

For Sparrow, Mercy, and Frankie;

👚 What kind of clothing do they typically choose to wear? Why? Do they have any sensory issues that affect their choices?

Haircare as well, please.

Good questions.

Okay, first - Mercy: They typically choose anything that can survive a Day In The Life of Mercy Hamilton. It used to include a bra, but after the "crawling over filing cabinets and snagging her favorite shirt and bra" incident, she doesn't wear one. Currently, her outfit is one made from ballistic weave and put together by Tinker Tom: pants and shirt with comfortable boots and a ballistic weave hat. If at home, she indulges her fellas and wears a dress. No sensory issues per se, though being pregnant means she NEEDS to find a bra STAT.

Frankie: She lives for cute clothes. Short shorts and crop tops, ankle pants with suspenders, and cute dresses. When performing, she favors fluffy dresses in blues or pinks and heels. When sleeping, a pair of Beau's boxers and one of his t-shirts. Not as such.

Sparrow: Literally whatever fits. Kids clothes that fit? Wear. Teenager-type clothing that fits? Wear. That little BOS outfit Maxson finds when she infilitrates? WEAR. The little Courser outfit Grace has made for her? Wears especially while on a job. Her favorite piece of clothing are her panties covered in dancing bears. Sparrow prefers to wear soft clothing. Anything tight or restrictive makes her feel tied down and closed in. And she HATES that. Though good luck on finding anything tight for her - her clothing is all loose.

Haircare!

Mercy: shampoo and conditioner made by Vic, preferably herbal scented. Acorn oil for curl control.

Frankie: Shampoo, conditioner, hair mask for weekly moisture, de-frizz creme to control what's going on due to all this horrible Jamaica Plains humidity, Acorn oil - gifted by Mercy - used for shine while on stage. She has a fancy brush and comb set from New California she uses to keep everything tangle-free.

Sparrow: Well...hmm. She uses shampoo and conditioner from the Institute that Grace gives her. And there's a lot of mud rubbed into her hair so she can hide the the platinum color. But honestly, she doesn't have much hair to deal with till much later due to having cut it down to the scalp. And she keeps doing it when she has a bad mental day and runs off. Eventually it grows out and she still just uses shampoo and conditioner. If sat on by Levi, she'll get some oil rubbed into the ends to smooth it out. But she's not really one to even brush it often.