#sole survivor fallout 4

[sweetcocopowder]

Trying to think of what I should do for a Christmas special this year.

Tossing it up between a heart felt fic with Nate and Danse having their first christmas together, or we have Nate and Deacon going at it dressed santa and an elf.

Santa's lil helper and all that HAH. Maybe i should do a poll. fuck it here

Have fun cause I definitely will either way

[i-dont-work-here]

SHORT RANT INCOMING

What if the Sole Survivor was a ghoul?

(This might just be terrible. Also, spoilers for those who haven't played Fallout 4.)

One of my buddies (my little hobo) and I were talking over lunch, and we thought up this exact question. What if SoSu was a ghoul? Well, here's my take on it.

If we go back to Vault 111 and remember when Kellogg and crew killed our husband/wife, he just... up and left. He yoinked Shaun and dipped. But, what if something different happened? What if, before they came for Shaun, SoSu's cryopod broke open, along with the main vault door, and got irradiated from the blast while everyone else was safe in their pods?

I'd say that the first quest wouldn't be to exit Vault 111. It would be to find somewhere to get away from the rads or embrace it and potentially die. If you take the hide route, you could probably open another cryopod, kick them out, kill them, then freeze again until 2087. If you embrace the rads, you'd just... well, die. (I dunno. I haven't figured it out yet.)

I don't really feel like adding onto this more right now (I'm usually asleep by this time), so I'll put a poll up right after this (at the bottom) and see if anyone's interested in seeing how a ghoul Sole Survior would do out in the wasteland, and how quests and interactions would be different.

[queer-spectre]

Reread my own fic bc I can't remember what I'm doing so here's a sum up of chapter three in doodle form lol

I don't want flowers on AO3

[gageisahomeboi]

Another one

[lacquerheadd]

pov: you ask the good mayor for some chems…

[inkegg]

Aftercare

Pose Ref

[milton-chamberlain]

[nazzirithe]

gay fallout breakfast comic art i made for no reason 🏳️‍🌈 🇺🇲 🧁🍰🍳🥞🍒🍑

[currynatto]

love at first stab

[capcollector]

why is he burrowing

[sayodoko]

[sweetcocopowder]

Pitch Black Dahlias Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5

Synopsis: Danse realizes why they're here

Word Count: 1.6K

Pairing: Paladin Danse / Nate (Sole Survivor)

Warnings: Ghouls. Shooty shooty bang bang. Crisis

The Behemoth’s destruction can be still heard from within the confines of the old SuperMart walls. The residents that live within the building move around frantically, having been riled up from the chaos outside. The telltale moan of a ghoul has the ex-Paladin gripping his laser gun tightly. Nate takes point, loading his shotgun with ease.

The SuperMart is a mess. Shelves are knocked over and items are scattered everywhere. Dust can be seen thick in the air, and it doesn’t look like anyone’s been in here in quite some time. Anyone living. Danse has to hold back a sneeze as the dust tickles his nose with two fingers over his nose.

As if hearing the small noise emitted from Danse, a ghoul charges out of nowhere, snarling and biting the air like some savage dog. Danse raises his gun to shoot the offending intruder, but Nate is quicker. The shotgun pellets explode the ghoul’s head to a messy pulp of gore and blood that paints the ceiling above. Danse’s stomach rolls but he keeps it down, showing no emotion. Just like he was taught.

Nate doesn’t bat an eye, moving forward through the aisle as more groans and moans become audible the further they trek in. Danse stays close behind the survivor, his eyes darting back and forth as to make sure no ghouls come rushing at them from their blind spots.

The SuperMart shakes from the Behemoth’s rampage outside, dust and grime unsettling and falling from the ceiling above. It smells wet and musty despite these places smell old and crusty. The glass within the windows rattle loudly, the moans of the ghouls silencing momentarily to only become louder. The Behemoth is agitating them. And so, they’re taking their anger out to bite the closest moving thing. Which is Danse’s shoulder.

The ex-Paladin cries out in alarm as he swings around, his elbow cracking against the ghoul’s jaw. He doesn’t hear Nate call out to him over the ghoul’s loud gargled scream. He stumbles backwards, his left shoulder caining where the teeth of the ghoul had sunk its teeth deep within his skin. His jacket had taken most of the bite and he doesn’t think it actually pierced through two layers of clothes. It’s going to bruise like a bitch though.  

The ghoul snarls as it jumps for Danse once again, as if wanting to make sure it doesn’t miss this time. The butt of Danse’s gun crashes into the ghoul’s face stopping it short of its late afternoon craving. The ghoul cries out as it loses its footing, crashing into the shelving and taking everything with it to the floor. Danse doesn’t hesitates, baring his teeth as he pulls the trigger until the ghoul is a burning pile of ash. His love for feral ghouls are still the same.

It’s not the hand on his arm that drags him out of it. It’s the Behemoth’s roar that sounds way too close for Danse’s comfort that has him standing up straight. He regrets that shortly after, a jolt of fresh pain washing over his shoulder. He’s turned around to face Nate who holds a stimpak in hand, his arm already reared back to stab. Danse cries out a shout, flailing his hands hand with a loud “Woah!”

Nate scowls at him, brows furrows so deeply they could touch. “Don’t be stupid!” He snaps loudly.

A ghoul’s cry of acknowledgement answers to Nate’s outburst. The sound of shuffling feet doesn’t go unnoticed as Danse looks to Nate. He tears back his jacket to reveal his unscathed shoulder.

“It’s only a bruise, soldier,” Danse quickly informs. “No need to waste a stimpak on me.”

Nate lowers the stimpak, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. “Good. Thought I was going to have to put you down. Don’t want you turning on us, turning into a zombie!” Nate laughs, turning the moment into a joke.

One that Danse doesn’t get. “A zombie?” He asks.

Nate sighs as he places the stimpak back into his pack. “I’ll have to see if I can find any old ass comic for you. Show you the supernatural side of the imagination,” he says more to himself as if he’s writing down something in a notepad.

Danse doesn’t respond to that as they venture further into the SuperMart. The next few ghouls are easier to kill than the last. The smell inside the old building begins to become intoxicating the further they go in. It stings the nose, as if clinging to his sinuses and throat. It makes his eyes water that he tries his best not to wipe. Who knows what bacteria the ghoul has laid all over his jacket. Danse does his best to cover his face though but it’s very hard holding a small boxes and a gun. He just hopes this is worth it.

Nate suddenly dips into a room on the right-hand side of the SuperMart, calling out a loud, “Hello!” as he does.

When no answer comes, he treks into the next room, repeating the same. A little worry dwells inside of Danse’s gut as silence yet again is Nate’s reply. He frantically rushes to the next room which looks more like a storage room and calls out again.

This time round, a loud clatter responds. Nate disappears into the room which has Danse hurrying to follow. He looks around the SuperMart one last time, hating how the ground shakes with such a violence that has the windows shaking in their frames more so than before. They sound like they’re about to break. The Behemoth is getting closer despite them hoping for the best outcome. Danse stares at the front of the SuperMart as if the creature will stomp through the walls and ceiling at any second. But when nothing happens and only the telltale roar of the Behemoth shakes the dust from the ceiling again, does he let go of a breath that he didn’t know he was holding.

“Danse, I need that package!” Nate calls from inside the room.

The ex-Paladin darts his gaze away and he steps into the storage room with a formal, “Affirmative.”

But he stops short. The stark white of the Institute uniforms has Danse’s trigger finger twitching. He grips onto the care packages tighter as he meets the gaze of two synths. Still dressed and clad in Institute uniforms like they’re proud to wear it. One is a young adult woman, the other a middle-aged man with bright green eyes that stare at Danse with… hope. They kneel in front of Nate who holds the woman’s hands in his.

“You’ve come to help?” The green-eyed synth asks both of them, his cheerful gaze flickering between both men.

The two synths looks like they’ve been through hell. Their skin scratched up and bruises to hell while their clothes are somehow still a bright white.

“Yes,” Nate answers in favour of Danse’s silence. “We’ve got a package that will set you on your way. Show you how to survive. From the Railroad”

Nate holds out his hand to Danse. But the ex-Paladin doesn’t move. He can’t help let his nose lift up in disgust at the mere thought of helping synths from the Institute of all places. Is this what the Railroad has been doing!? Helping these Institute synths?

“Danse,” Nate speaks firmly as he stands up from his knees. “The packages please.”

“This is who we’re helping?” Danse hisses finally, snapping towards the survivor.

The two synths hopeful faces fall quickly. Nate frowns deeply, grinding his teeth together. The tension in the air becomes thick and Danse breathes heavily, eyes flicking back between Nate and the synths.

“You have no right to say that,” Nate speaks firmly.

Danse gawks, taking the smallest of a step backwards. “We destroyed the Institute yet you’re still helping them? They ruined so much of the Commonwealth!”

Nate scowls but doesn’t step towards Danse, afraid he might high tail it out of here with the package. “The synths within had no choice over where they lived! They were created and made by scientists that wanted power. The synths didn’t!” Nate speaks firmly, arguing his case. He knew this would happen. He knew this argument would happen. He just hopes it’ll put some goddamn sense into Danse. “The many synths I met down there only wanted to escape and have a life! That’s what the Railroad offers, a second choice! A second choice I lent my hand to you.”

Danse falls silent, his gaze moving down to the synths kneeling on the floor. Like him. The thought is still yet so foreign and so fresh in his mind. Like him. They were birthed from the same machine. From the same place. Made from the same man that wanted to feel like God for a split second.

Would he feel differently if he remembered just a mere moment from his time within the Institute. The first face he had seen when he had awoken? All he’s ever known is the Brotherhood. And nothing but. All other memories wiped. Or maybe they weren’t even there.

Like him. Kneeling on the floor, receiving a second chance from Nate.

Danse meets those dark blue eyes once more and only sees something akin to dourness. The ex-Paladin heaves a heavy breath, and hands over the package without another word. Nate takes them gently, staring down at them with a sigh.

“Thank you, Danse,” Nate speaks softly.

The synth swallows thickly as he grips onto his laser gun with both hands. “Next time you want to bring me on one of these trips, warn me beforehand.” He says grimly before leaving the storage room.

His footsteps are heavy in the SuperMart and pound in his aching head. He needs space to breath. He needs a moment alone. He needs to think! 

-

like, reblog and comments are amazing!!

[do2faj]

Don’t mind the overall messiness, I’m trying to relearn Procreate

[nyarlah]

[duckwheat]

Hello

Screenshot redraw and bit of my Sole. Somehow Nick has the most telling expressions with the least emotive face of his

[jakface]

deacon's shiny beacon