#this is from a -sole gets drugged- companions react ask

[imagine-silk]

Fallout 4 Masterlist

There is a second masterlist for Fallout

Sole taking time to think and coming back a week later to tell the companions they were contemplating whether or not it was okay for them to be in love again

Yan!Girls react to Sole leaving Synth Shaun to die

Poly!Yandere Piper, Yandere Cait and Yandere Curie with the same Darling

Darling telling Yan!Cait and Curie they love their accent

Nat interrupting Yan!Piper's loving moment with her darling

Companions w/ a Sole who's messy

Christmas w/ the male companions

Companions reacting to a Sole who doesn't talk much about themself

Companions reacting to a settler coming back a week after having a fight to say a new comeback

Yan!Curie traveling w/ Courser!s/o

Nick, Piper, Preston, Hancock w/ an s/o who has a chronic illness/immune disorder

Nick, Danse, Piper, Hancock w/ a s/o who has thassalophobia

Thanksgiving w/ male companions

Yan!Curie w/ Courser who's detained

Yan!Cait traveling the USA w/ Sole

Yandere Preston, McCready, Hancock, and Nick react to quietly unhinged Sole

Deacon + historic =

MacCready + star gazing =

Yan!Girls being rewarded for their tendencies

Kiss Prompt 18 w/ Yan!Piper

Kiss Prompt 18 w/ Yan!Cait

Sole w/ magic

Reuniting with the companions after months of being away

Yan!Cait kiss prompt 16

Yan!Piper hand-holding prompt 24

Sole taking care of Preston and MacCready after they've been injured

Sole who travels with a guitar [Preston, Hancock, MacCready, and Danse]

Yan!Cait hand-holding prompt 4

Hancock with NonSole!Courser

Fallout Yan!Dudes with a courser s/o who left the Institute

Yandere Preston

Companions celebrating your birthday

Yan!Girls w/ Courser who left the Institute

Yan!Girls with Darling who fights back

Fallout Girls watching a bad pre-war movie

Yan!Girls with a Darling who just bails

Companions react to Sole turning into a dog

Wise men say

Companions as Darlings

Okay hear me out... Preston and X6

Fem!Teen!Sole who has long hair asks companion to brush it

Trying to make Goodneighbor a 'better place'

Fallout Girls meeting your ghoulified parents

Fallout House Husbands

Sole going missing only to be found as a glowing ghoul

Sole convinces companion to sit for a portrait

Companions react to Sole leading a pack of feral ghouls

Sole getting a lucky trick shot

Sole being a supermutant's wingman

Meeting a super-ghoul

Yan!Girls with a Darling who was a foreigner when the bombs dropped

Fallout 4 Yan!Girls Meeting your Assaultron Girlfriend

Preston with Sole who has Auditory Processing Disorder

Companions react to Sole turning into a Supermutant

Minute Men rewrite

Cait with her Institute scientist darling

Deacon, MacCready, Danse, and X6 react to Sole hugging them and sobbing uncontrollably when they get back from the institute

FO4 companions help a SS who lost a pet

Companions react to the SS going through a seemingly normal door but it does the cartoon thing

Drugged out Sole confesses to Deacon, Preston, and MacCready

Yandere Danse and Haylen reacting to their Darling confessing to them that they used to be a Soldier for the Enclave

Darling wispering to the Yandere Fallout 4 Girls (+Hayleen) that Darling wants a Baby and wants for them to carry it

Yan!Girls react to Darling going to chase something down and ending up coming back months later

Companions react to very stupid insult throwing

Fallout 4 companions reaction to sole having 4 arms

Companions (+ Proctor Ingram) react to a special doctor that has a knack for making synthetic prosthetics

Companions finding a bottle called Devil’s Kiss and they decide to drink it

Yan!Girls reacting to their Darling absolutely pouring their heart out to them

Darling shooting Yan!Girls with a bubble gun

Yan!Girls with a Darling who admits to being a Enclave solider in the past

Ocean (Danse and Nate smut I drunk posted)

FO4 companions react to a Sole who's always patient and kind with others finally exploding when a settler acts a little too ungrateful

Life with Codsworth after the bombs dropped

Nick, Danse (Pre-BB), Father, and Codsworth react to Sole who jerryrigged themselves a prosthetic

Sole giving cute aggressive love to Hancock, Nick, and MacCready

Scribe Haylen Headcanons [SFW + NSFW]

Companions react if sole was a magical girl with guns

Piper Wright Headcanons [SFW + NSFW]

Hancock, Nick, Deacon, and MacCready react to Male!Sole shaving and becoming baby-faced

FO4 companions with a Werewolf!SS who's permanently transformed

MacCready, Deacon, and Danse getting sick after a bloodbath

X6-88's guide to cure lovesickness

Until I found you by Stephen Sanchez

Happy!Sole breaking down after finding the Institute

Glimpse of Us by Joji

Child giving them a Friendship Bracelet [X6-88, Cait, Vadim and Yafim]

Taking care of a Teen!Asian!Sole [Travis Miles, Nick Valentine, Deacon]

Deacon traveling with a Vampire SS

Non-human companions react to Male!Sole who is very protective of them

Favorite place for a date [X6-88, Preston, Hancock]

Yandere Girls

Sole having a twin

Yandere Preston, Gage, and Danse

Relationship Milestones

Sole having a stutter

Someone reacting to companion being a synth

What are their kisses like [Deacon, Hancock, Curie]

What the mornings are like [MacCready, Cait, Preston]

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Hey, if this isn't too much, I'd love to hear your headcannons on what the FO4 companions MBTI personalities are, and maybe some other ideas of how they'd react to certain things because of their MBTI.

Fo4 Companions MBTI Types

➼ Word Count » 0.8k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ A/N » I literally love that you asked bb, I have the strongest bouts of MBTI obsessions and you asked at the right time <3

MacCready - ISTP - He gets frightened really easily due to him running under constant stress that builds up from how determined he is to work hard. He's terrified of finding himself lost or alone and will do anything he can to keep the people in his life so he doesn't have to be any of that.

Nick - INTJ - He has an innate need to be seen as capable in anything he does and can sometimes overwork himself just so he can feel like he's making a difference. He needs to set aside time to be alone just so he can reset his mind and feel grounded again. (he'll usually do this at night when Ellie and Sole are asleep)

Cait - ESTP - Cait wants to have a sense of control in her life, and in her past, turned to drugs to feel that. She gets incredibly angry when she feels people aren't listening to her and will either react loudly or completely isolate herself for a couple of days. She's working through it, but she'll still snap at times.

Danse - ISTJ - Danse is idealistic when it comes to the Brotherhood and has a habit of ignoring everything else to focus and believe solely in what he imagines. He can sometimes go overboard with these ideals and can be ridiculously stubborn when anything has something to do with the group.

Preston - INFJ - He's always open to hearing other people out, even at the cost of his own health. He doesn't care how burnt out or exhausted he gets, if someone needs a shoulder to cry on, he's there. It overwhelms him at times but he feels as if it's his duty to push through to do what it takes to make others happier.

Codsworth - ESFJ - He likes to feel valued and will always be doing as much as he can to be seen as such. It'd destroy him if you saw him as anything less than helpful and constantly making an effort to hold a part in whatever settlement you have him stationed at.

Piper - ENFP - She's extremely perceptive to other people's moods, it's how she dictates if someone's lying to her or not. Her extroverted nature can make her restless, as she's on a constant search to fulfill her desire in getting the truth out to people.

Curie - INTP - She likes to work near rivers or streams, no matter how irradiated they are. That kind of peaceful environment reminds her of all the things she used to read in books and is just generally more favorable to work around. She just feels as if she can think clearly with the sound of flowing water in the background.

Strong - ESTP - Strong never really liked the idea of strictly working under Fist and doing whatever he had ordered. He instead likes being able to do his own thing while also being guided throughout the wasteland. He hates authoritarian figures and likes the freedom of roaming he gets now that he's left Trinity Tower.

Hancock - ENTP - He takes his job as mayor very seriously and is persistently trying to better himself and his community, no matter how negatively others view it. He takes a lot of pride in the Goodneighbor residents and would do just about anything to keep this place afloat and with the same morals that built it up: freedom and equality.

Deacon - ENTP - Deacon loves to multitask and can frequently be seen doing as many jobs as possible all at the same time. If you look close enough, you'll see how much it drains him physically, but it's easy to miss with how upbeat and enthusiastic he is. He does it to avoid dwelling on any past mistakes. He feels like he's making it up by doing all these extra things.

X6-88 - ISTJ - As hard as it is to spot, he's very sensitive to criticism and can't take any form of assessment anyone might perform over his capabilities. It makes him feel vulnerable and he hates it.

Dogmeat - ESFP - Happy and energetic, Dogmeat almost has an unending amount of stamina when it comes to literally anything. He loves following you around, and as long as you're willing to keep him, he'll be with you till the end.

Old Longfellow - ISTP - He can empathize with others really easily and is constantly searching for a sense of comfort in anything he does. It's one of the reasons he likes dogs so much, they're familiar to him and he can count on them to be just as loyal as himself.

Gage - ESTP - He doesn't take the loss well, whether that be money or the people he cares about. That being said, he's ridiculously protective when it comes to both of those things and wouldn't dare to let either slip away from him.

[fallout4-reacts]

How would the companions react to seeing a pre-war picture of Sole (maybe a wedding photo?) and realizing Sole lost a lot of weight since— and not a healthy amount, like going from muscular to thin?

I imagine Sole rolling their eyes and being overly snarky It's never easy to discuss a person's weight, and having undergone a major weight fluctuation (but rather the reverse) over the last two years, I can attest that when others want to discuss it with us, we do not want looool

That's said, thank you for the fun!

Cait : "Was that really you? You'd have been a powerhouse in the arena! But tell me, how did you lose so much weight?"

"Radiation. All HS cars."

"The…cars?"

"These funny metal carcasses all over the landscape—we used to use them to get from place to place instead of walking in the desert for hours as soon as we were called somewhere."

"Walking! It's true that there's not a lot of fat in the corner. But what about the muscles?"

"Probably the 200-year nap."

"That makes sense."

Codsworth : "At the time, I felt like I was doing a good job taking care of you. I can only watch you melt like snow in the sun now, no matter what I do."

"You've never seen any snow."

"My data strips provide me with precise information. It's comparable to your weight decrease."

"Sliding into enemy camps is easy like this."

"I'll make you a delectable brahmin steak. With mashed tatos. And I think the cook hid some oil in the storage room."

Curie : "It's completely unhealthy to have lost so much body mass index in such a short period of time."

"200 years."

"In so little real time."

"Radioactive food."

"This public health issue must be addressed."

Danse (romanced) : "You were such a juicy piece of meat!" He casts a glance towards Sole, quickly realising his blunder. "Not that you aren't... I mean… Understand that you are perfectly fine as you are, yet regaining some of your prior mass would not be a bad thing. That doesn't imply you're not appealing. I mean…"

"Stop causing yourself pain, Danse. I'm not foolish; I realised that I shed about 100 pounds in the last year... way of speaking."

"But nonetheless... It would be a first to have a soldier who did not require a frame to wear power armor."

"It really wasn't that bad."

"Let them come, super-mutants; I'll have my super-Sole!"

"I never realized how dense you could be."

Deacon : "Have you had any surgery or something? I'd like to see a doctor that can transform someone's shape like that. What's your trick?"

"Radiation? Going for a walk in the desert? Low carbohydrate, high radiation diet?"

"The grand total. I guess I won't be able to compete at that level."

"The Brotherhoods have a weight room— 

"Why don’t you use it? You might get a terrifying figure back for a super-mutant!"

"I make use of it."

"I believe I've been asked to the headquarters."

Dogmeat : Doesn’t even know what it’s about. Sniffs around and doesn’t pay attention to the picture on the wall.

Elder Maxson (romanced) : "We need more soldiers of this size. Have you considered trying to restore that lost mass?"

"Lack of butter in the corner."

"Of what, exactly? Still, I'm going to ask Cade to take a closer look at you; you can't be in this condition because of something healthy."

"Does my condition bother you?"

"Not at all," he strategically retreated, realising his mistake.

Hancock (romanced) : "No way, it ain't you." He gets a good dose of Jet and details the picture better. "Them eyes. Yeah, I think I can see. The peepers are identical. Damn, you were a whole snack. What's the sitch?"

"War, bombs, the current Commonwealth, lack of food, the never-ending race to stay alive, lack of sleep, lack of food, running—

"OK, I get it. If you ever decide to lounge in Goodneighbor for good, I got you - no more running and you can grub all you want. I'd damn myself to get my hands on those love handles."

Gage : "I've seen what hunger and drugs can do to a human being, but this is the brightest example."

"I don't take that many drugs."

"Enough to lose, oh, what, 100 pounds?"

"And it has nothing to do with walking a thousand miles through the desert with only a piece of dry meat in your pocket for any meal."

"I'll speak with Mason. He can give his Overboss his meat weight. We’ll round those calves right up."

"I'd almost be offended. Did you ever wonder whether it was my wish?"

"Look at that!" With the back of his palm, he hits the portrait. "That's you, Overboss!"

"Okay, this time I'm being insulted."

MacCready : "So, people used to be really spoiled, huh?"

"Yeah, a little. Radiation-free steak, buttered potatoes, and a car for long journeys."

"Car? These things were long trips? How much long?"

"How far can you imagine a distance?"

"The farthest I know is the Capital Wasteland."

"A few hours' drive."

"Wow, okay, but we don't get to the capital every day."

"It took me eight hours to get from Sanctuary to Diamond City... with a piece of dry meat and a bottle of hot water. Not exactly the best diet for mounting a titan frame."

"Well, the muscles are still there; they're just... dry."

Nick (romanced) : He spends so much time in front of the picture that Sole becomes concerned.

"Nick?"

"It's sad..."

"What exactly is sad?"

"You looked so joyful and good in that photograph. And all that, all that mess."

"You know, I can't deny everything I've gained since."

"However, it wouldn't hurt to regain some forms. The Brobovs, you know, don't just serve bad booze; they also have a fine menu, and the butcher provides them with good meat for the chefs. You should go there more frequently."

"Caps, Nick. Caps."

"So, from time to time, we'll take a break from our investigations to go hunting. It will not be said that you will remain skeletal in my custody if we can do otherwise."

Piper : "Are you kidding me? It can't possibly be you. Is it?"

"It is."

"But you were so... How could that have happened?"

"Radiation, starvation, and constant walking through the desert."

"Damn you. Perhaps we should write an article to distinguish healthy lifestyles from those who—

"It's getting really cliché, the way you always look for an article to write about everything."

"Eh! I'm not always looking for new subjects to write about."

"You asked a settler about his impressions of radiation storms!"

"It is critical to take the pulse of the people. But first, let's get back to our radsheeps and your...weight loss."

"Subject closed."

"Sooooole!"

"Subject.Closed."

Preston : "That's a significant weight loss."

"A little, yeah."

"And all in less than a year? It’s almost incredible that you’re in shape."

"Fit enough to have pulled you out of the clutches of the raiders when we first met."

Preston smiles slightly as he recalls this incident. Then he removes the frame from the wall.

"This goes straight to the castle vaults."

"Have you ever heard of the concept of private property?"

"History has no private property, and this picture is now part of the Minutemen's history."

"But do so without hesitation," Sole says, hardly masking his annoyance.

Strong : "Puny human not so puny back then."

"No, I wasn't at all."

"Why not stronger?"

"Aaaaah, that's a long story."

"Boring. Eat well. Eat more. Stronger, like before."

"I'll give it a shot..."

X6-88 : "It's incredible that Father's parent were so... well-developed. Specifically observing you today."

"I'm not sure if that's meant to be a compliment or an insult."

"A statement. Certainly, your former self had physical characteristics worth highlighting."

"I'm still not sure if it's a compliment or an insult."

"What I'm saying is that a physical threat like that would require significantly less protection. In what circumstances did you evolve into... that?"

With a dismissive gesture, he indicates Sole's current smaller size.

"All right, I get it now. That is an insult. You won't get an explanation just for the sake of it."

X6 sighs. "As you like. Now that we have squandered sufficient time contemplating the remnants of the past, it's appropriate for us to continue on towards our current objective."

[baddieladdie]

FO4 Companions react to Sole's chem addiction

@falloutchicken Alright! Finished it~ Sorry it's a little long, I had an idea for a different format style and I ran with it - but I love how it turned out <3

tw: addiction, drugs, trauma, chem-use as an addiction

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While trading at the Diamond City market, the Sole Survivor of vault 111 overheard folks whispering over their steaming noodle bowls about an abandoned shopping center filled with valuable loot. The only barrier between them and the score of a lifetime were the supermutants inside. The gossiping locals didn’t have the fire power for such an altercation, but the sole survivor did. And they certainly would not be going alone.

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Selecting your companion:

Cait: I’ll come, but just don’t make me wear anything stupid

Curie: “Oh! Shopping!” She mused delightfully, her voice ringing with pleasure.

Codsworth: How delightful, mum! I do so miss shopping expeditions and, please pardon my saying, but your jumpsuit is looking rather drab. Off we go, miss!

Deacon: Sounds like my kind of dig! I could always use some new disguises.

McCready (sarcastically): Oh, we better hurry. I hear clothes practically fly off the shelves with their discounts.

Piper: Jesus, Blue. Sounds dangerous. Something wrong with the clothes you already have?

Preston: Absolutely, General. I wouldn’t want you facing this on your own.

Hancock: *heh* Thought you’d never ask. Let’s get the fuck out of Diamond city.*grumbles, muttering under his breath* Never understood how these bigots can sleep at night…

Danse: I advise against putting yourself in unnecessary danger. The gossip of strangers isn’t worth risking your life, but I’ll be damned if I let you face this alone.

Nick Valentine: Well, if it’s worth your time kid, than it’s worth mine *grabs his hat and coat before locking the detective agency door behind them* Lead the way

X6-88: I agree. We might find something useful. A large shopping center may have valuable pre-war goods. Right behind you, ma’am.

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The Sole Survivor walks out of Diamond City with their companion, combat shotgun in hand. Though well armored and stocked with plenty of ammunition, they carefully made their way south through the ruins of Boston. Sole and their companion had not walked far from the Boston Police Rationing Site when they heard the unmistakable sounds of feral ghouls, clumsily kicking tin rubbish and bones left on the broken streets. Sole and their companion crouched behind the remains of a building’s wall. Daring a look, sole peaked above the wall, only to notice the dirty, ruined faces but unmistakable faces of her pre-war neighbors, Mr. Donoghue and Mrs. Donoghue. Sole immediately felt sick and dizzy watching the two ghouls stumble down the street aimlessly, eyes white and staring at nothing. Mr. Donoghue and Mrs. Donoghue were expecting a child as well. Sole had spent hours in their kitchen, chatting about the excitement of parenthood. They swapped ideas over coffee and pie. 200 years after the bombs dropped, while sole was safe in a vault, her neighbors had been turned into radiation monsters, void of the humanity they used to possess. Alive in a physical sense, but her neighbors were lost. Sole had no choice but to put them down and out of their miserable experience. It’s what they would have wanted…

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Your companion reacts:

Cait: Jesus Christ, not a way to go. At least you had the ‘ol Vault-Tec treatment, eh? *Cait notices tears filling in sole’s eyes, rapidly decides to change her approach* I - er - um…..I know this must be difficult for you…I…I am here if you need to talk, or something.

Curie: One must wonder, what causes the deterioration of this ghoul condition? Some "ghouls" are in possession of their mental faculties. Others are not. I wonder why Mr. Donoghue and Mrs. Donoghue became feral while many other ghouls have maintained their mental capacities [Sole - Those were my neighbors, Curie. Not a science experiment] My apologies, sir/madam, I didn't mean to offend you. Grief can be managed with a well balanced diet, exercise, and spending time with loved ones!

Codsworth: Oh dear *emotional processors cracking through his speakers* Is that…the Donoghues? Mum, I’m…I’m so sorry *offers a hankie*

Deacon: Well, that was terrible *sigh* radiation, you unbelievable bastard.[notices how upset sole is] Ah..Look, I’m sorry. This…I mean, what you’re going through, I can’t even imagine. If you wanna talk or something…[trails off]

McCready: Oh man…*He pauses, letting the information sink in regarding sole’s neighbors* I’m really sorry. We can turn around if you want. That department store isn’t going anywhere. 

Piper: You okay, [sole]? You seem pretty shaken up. Why don’t we rest for a bit.

Preston: Oh, I’m really sorry, General. *he removes his hat, holding to his chest, tired eyes looking away in respect* Take all the time you need. I can help you bury the bodies if you would like to give them a proper burial.

Hancock: Ah shit. Old neighbors, huh? Hey, let's just get outta here. I hate seein’ you so broken up like this.

Danse: You’re awfully quiet. Want to tell me what’s on your mind? [listens intently to what Sole says about the feral ghouls they had recognized and killed] I see. Take as long as you need, soldier. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.

Nick Valentine: “You seemed to recognize those two, who were they?” [response from sole] “Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss,” he spoke softly, placing a supportive synth hand on sole’s arm.

X6-88: Those were your neighbors? My condolences.

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The sole survivor heaves in grief, but is eventually able to continue on, intrigued by the elaborate wooden welcome sign to Fairline Hill Estates. They had toured the gated community long ago when looking for a house. Sanctuary Hills, the houses of tomorrow, had captured their attention more, with all their technologically advanced features the estates lacked. But all that remained now were the corpses of friends turned into monsters from nuclear radiation and two lazy yao guai, chewing on the bloody bones of rotting brahmin.

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Your companion reacts:

Cait: Oh! Such fascinating creatures! Shall we get a closer look? I wish to study the effects of radiation on these beasts

Curie: You’ve got be fucking kiddin’ me. yao guai? That’s the last thing we need right now.

Codsworth: Oh dear. You don’t think they can see us, right mom?

Deacon: That is disgusting *he giggles* How do you want to play this, boss?

McCready: *Chuckles gleefully, silently pulling out his well polished rifle* This is where the fun begins.

Piper: Well that’s just great. Breaking news: Diamond City reporter torn to ribbons by a giant, stupid, irritated bear.

Preston: Dammit, I think we're in trouble here *pulls out his musket, at the ready* I’m with you, general.

Hancock: We ain’t alone *drops shotgun ammunition into the barrels of his gun* Those yao guai are mean bastards, they hit hard. Just lemme know when you’re ready and I got your back.

Danse: Yao guai..Not to worry, we’ll send those monsters right back to hell [Charges, heavily clad in power armor, laser weapons firing away, breaking the silence of a sleepy afternoon] Die, you godless heathen! Die!

Nick Valentine: There’s no getting out of this without a fight *loads his 10mm with a satisfying click* You ready, kid?

X6-88: Good, I was starting to feel a little bored. You ready to engage, [sole]? This shouldn’t take long

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The Sole Survivor and their trusted companion gawk at the yao guai corpses, bleeding from their many fatal bullet holes. Sole sighs in exhaustion, dropping to squat and holding their face in hands.Their companion rubs their back sympathetically and suggests the tempting idea of spending the night at Fairline Hills Estates. The area was relatively safe now, with Mr. Donoghue & Mrs. Donoghue and the yao guais dead. Keenly aware of the mental torment they both witnessed and given Sole’s fragile state, their trusted companion led the way to the southeast house. Sole collapses weakly on the sunken couch and watches as their companion wanders into the brokedown kitchen to prepare dinner for the night. They ate the meal peacefully without many words to be said about the days’ events. The sole survivor turned down every request to talk about the killing of her neighbors and the close call they had with the yao guai in what used to be a highly sought after gated community. Their companion accepted that sole just wasn’t ready to talk about. They offer to take the first watch to let the sole survivor get some much needed rest.

Once their trusted companion shuts the door to the house to begin their watch, the sole survivor slinks away to the attached garage. They had noticed the chemistry station earlier and knew exactly how to use it. There were piles of dead leaves everywhere, a natural fertilizer. Using the leaves along with the plastic from some junk lying around the house, sole knew they could craft jet - lots of jet. Sole gets to work, tinkering feverishly at the chemistry station, sweating from the withdrawal and desperate for relief. The Sole Survivor sighed in contented satisfaction, admiring their own craftsmanship. Not even bothering to step from the chemistry station, they begin taking hit after hit of jet. Sighing happily as the pain of memories and her broken heart eased into comfortable numbness. Sole wanted to take jet until they couldn’t remember who they were, much less what had happened to them. Sole stumbled back slightly, the room a spiraling blur. No matter, they take another hit and watch the world slowly rise until they felt their back hit the floor. The stared blankly at the ceiling, surrounded by empty jet cartridges. Hearing the loud THUD sole’s companion rushed into the room, fearing the worst (an intruder, a kind of murderous threat) only to find in their horror, a close friend in indescribable pain.

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Your companion reacts:

Cait: “*tsk* Havin’ a good time now, are we?” Cait teased, pointing on the jet in sole’s hand as they slouched against the chemistry station. Cait’s eyes scanned the scene further, noticing the familiar signs of a serious addiction problem.Given the amount of empty jet canisters scattered on the floor around sole, it was a miracle they were even still alive.] I think you’ve got a wee bit of a drug problem, [sole]. Which ain’t right, especially after everythin’ you watched me go through. Why would you let yourself get hooked on the stuff? Can’t believe you’re doin’ this to yourself?!” She shouted, breathing deepling like sole had taught her to calm down. “You’re an idiot, [sole]. But I’ll help ya, just like how you helped me. Let’s go, we’re getting you cleaned up”

Curie: She stares curiously, “I have more than enough data on the physiological effects of chems, there is no need to provide me with more data, sir/madam.” She notices the dilated pupils, racing heart beat, the sweating… “Are you alright, sir/madam? I believe you should see a doctor, we cannot treat your condition here.”

Codsworth: “Are you well, mum?!” Codsworth panicked, desperately trying to assess the situation. A Mister Handy bot was designed for household duties, not crises.

Deacon: Wow, looks like you’ve been partying pretty hard with out me. Miiiight want to lay off cause I think you’ve enough.

McCready: *Slaps the empty get out of sole’s hand, they glare at him angrily, demanding an explanation* That crap is gonna rot your mind. This stops right now (Dad-mode activated)

Piper: Ooooookay (nabs all the empty jet cartridges) I think you’ve had enough, Blue. (Stares at the insane amount of jet in the room). I think we better get you to a doctor. I just hope it’s not too late (she sighs heavily, emotion tightening around her neck hotly) This is why I wanted to talk, Blue! So you - you wouldn’t do anything stupid! Arg! What a mess. Come on, (she lifts sole up) let’s get you to a doctor.

Preston: This is how it ends, [sole]. You keep this up and I’ll have to bury a friend. The Minutemen need you. I need you. And you don’t need those chems. You have people who love and care about you.

Hancock: “Woah!” Hancock froze, staring at the used jet scattered about the room. 2..4..6..three over there, that makes 9…pile of 5 in the corner makes…14? 14! How are they alive? Hancock glanced at the sole survivor, slumped pitifully against the chemistry station, empty jet still in hand. They just kept staring at his boots, completely unresponsive, but he could see the steady rise and fall of their chest with each shallow breath. Hancock began to sweat, panic sweeping in, staring at sole’s chest. What if it they stop…what if they breathing stops - he’s mayor, not fucking doctor.”H-hey, stay with me, now! Look,” He turn’s sole’s face to look at him only to be greeted with dull and empty eyes. “Hey, sunshine. It’s me, remember? Hancock. D-don’t go, you can’t do this to me. I need you, please. Don’t leave me alone.” Tears welled in the crevices of Hancok’s face as he sat beside the sole survivor, holding their hand. He gasped as a familiar smooth hand rested on his. “I could never forget you, Hancock.” The mayor choked back sobs, gripping sole’s hand like it could fade away any moment. “Don’t you ever do this again. Never trip alone. We’re getting you help. Like, now now.” He takes sole’s arm and wraps it around his shoulder’s, pulling them to their feet.

Danse: [Stares in stunned silence mixed with disgust and concern] He crouches beside sole, pushing the drugs away, and whispered angrily, “How can you fight when your brain’s clouded with those drugs? You’re going to get yourself killed. And I’m not just gonna stand here and watch brotherhood’s best, my friend, die unnecessarily. We’re getting you clean and that’s an order.”

Nick Valentine: “SHIT!” Nick hissed under his breath. He'd see a lot of folks at their worst in his line of work. He’d seen this scene too many times before. A case closed in an overdose. There were even some rare occasions where he found Mayor Hancock after a few too many chems. But usually, there were warning signs. How could he call himself a detective when he couldn’t even save his friend from themselves. Nick crouches beside the body, holding their limp wrist in his. A pulse, weak but still there. “Alright, now you’ve done it, kid” He scooped up the sole survivor into his arms. “We need to get you to a doc.”

X6-88: Oh god…[composes himself] You don’t look so good sir/ma’am, Might want to lay off the chems for a while. I’ll be throwing these away (disposes of all the chems the Sole Survivor made and had on their person)

The Sole Survivor wakes up in a familiar bed at the Castle, a stack of addictol was left on the nightstand. This was certainly a more permanent detour to Fallon’s Department store than they planned for. Sole’s companion apologizes for moving them and delaying their trip to the department store. But sole’s close friend promises profusely that it was and always will be for the sole survivor’s own good. They promise again and again that they do not feel any different about them and still deeply appreciate the relationship that they share. So much so, they couldn’t bare to lose their friend to addiction. After some time and regular check-ins with the Minutemen Surgeon General, The Sole Survivor will finally leaves thre Castle and continuing their journey.

[fallrimxreader]

Hello. May I please request Fallout companions reacting to a non-addictive inquisitive Sole Survivor? That is, Sole Survivor trying chems in a controlled environment (that they built for this kind of thing) and recording their reactions and feelings in order to save and catalogue them. Then possibly using this knowledge to save a raider, who actually doesn't want to be a raider, but got addicted to those chems? Thank you.

(Warnings: Chems/drugs. Mention of addiction.)

Cait: Sole got the idea after helping Cait cure her Psycho addiction. Sole tells Cait about it, and how they want to help people who need it.

“Why didn’t you think of this before you cured me, I could have been the guinea pig for ya.”

“I wouldn’t want to put that on you.”

“Well, all joking aside I don’t want you to do it either. I did chems for personal reasons, yeah you’re doing it for selfless reasons but they are still bad for you and I don’t want you having any kind of reactions to them.”

“But it could really help people, like you.”

“But why do you have to do it? Go tell this plan to a doctor or something. I bet ya they are already working on it. I just.” Cait paused. “I don’t want you getting addicted, I did it for a long time but it still wasn’t pleasant. I am so happy that I was cured, but I don’t want to have to go through all that again trying to cure you too.”

“I won’t I promise, it will be a safe, controlled area.”

“Nothing about chems is safe. I don’t want you to do it, and you won’t change my mind. I need you more than a random chem addicted raider does.” Cait was adamant, nothing Sole could say made her feel any better about the idea.

Curie: Sole sought Curie out with the idea. They sat her down and told her the plan. How they would do it in a controlled area, and it was all for science and to hopefully help others suffering from the bad side effects of chems.

“Well I am glad you came to me first. I wish you wouldn’t have to; I don’t wish any harm to come to you Monsieur/Madam. However, I know it could help others and it would be an intriguing study.” Curie thought about it for a while. “Ok, but I want to be with you the entire time. I will help you document and be there to help you through the reactions.”

Together they were able to safely try every chem, Curie helped Sole to detox after each one. They found the best ways to nullify the effects and ways to help ease the quitting process. They then travelled the commonwealth offering their aid to anyone who wished to quit. Word got around quick and soon people were seeking them out. They were renamed the hope for the wasteland.

Codsworth: Sole asked for Codsworth’s help with their studies. Sole needed someone they could trust to be by their side.

“Are you sure Sir/mum? That sounds quite dangerous.”

“If we set up a safe room, and you stay by my side I think it will be okay.”

Codsworth was uncertain, he always liked how selfless Sole was, always wanting to help others. But sometimes he thought it was a little unnecessary.

“I hope that I can convince you not to do this. But you know, that if you do decide to go ahead with it I’ll be here for you.” Sole did try to refrain from doing it. But in the end they couldn’t stop their mind thinking about how it could help. Sole set up a little lab and collected a number of chems. They tested them out, Codsworth by their side. He helped feed them, and care for them when some chems became too much.

Dogmeat: Sole had found a nice little house, that they turned into their lab. They would test chems, then take long breaks between them to ensure they were not damaging their body too much. Dogmeat wasn’t sure what they were doing, but he did enjoy being able to sleep in the house. One particular day Sole took a chem, and had an unpleasant reaction. Sole coughed and chocked. This one left them on bedrest for days. Dogmeat curled up next to them the entire time. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he would stay by Sole’s side the entire time.

Danse: From the beginning Danse made his dislike for chems very clear. He did not like them and did not like that people were using them. So, Sole kept their testing a secret. Though it wasn’t long before Danse found out. Someone saw Sole buying chems and told Danse about it.

“You’re doing chems?” He confronted Sole.

“I’m just testing, to see what they are like.

“That’s how it starts. You need to stop this immediately; I will set up a consultation with the brotherhood doctor and they can get you off the stuff.”

“I’m not addicted Danse, just testing. I can stop anytime I want.”

“Then stop.”

“You can’t tell me how to live my life.”

“I can when you live it stupidly.” Sole huffed.

“This is why I did not tell you. Why don’t you trust me that I will be safe.”

“You just admitted you hid it from me. How am I supposed to trust you after that?” He made a good point. In the end they had a large argument. Danse told Sole that he would not be around them if they continued. Sole decided they didn’t have to put up with Danse and left. Sole continued testing but with other companions and avoided Danse. Danse avoided Sole but would often ask people if they were still ok. He still cared for them, even though he wanted nothing to do with their actions.

Deacon: “Hey Deacon. I’ve got something to run past you.”

“What’s up?”

“I need you to watch over me, I want to test this chem but I’ve heard the side effects can be a bit wacky. I just want someone with me when I do it.”

“You want me to do it?”

“I trust you.”

“Ah man. I mean, I would. But I don’t think you should be doing something that has wild side effects. That sounds terrible.”

“Well. It’s for science, I am curious as to what it does.” It took a lot of coercion, Deacon was very reluctant to let them try it. But in the end, he had to relent.

“Alright buddy. It is your life after all, and I would rather you have someone with you than doing it yourself. Just in case something happened.” He agreed to stay by their side, but he was very vocal about how he thought it was a bad idea. He was the go-to for Sole when ever they tested. After a while Sole shared their idea for helping raiders with addictions. Deacon pitched the idea to the railroad and together they were able to set up a little help clinic for raiders to come and seek aid.

Hancock: Sole had purchased some chems and was trying to find a suitable place to set up a lab. Hancock had simply walked past them, spotting the chems in their hands.

“What are doing with those!?” He asked concerned. Sole told him they were curious of testing chems, seeing what they were like. “Well, you could have just asked me. I’ve tested every one and could tell you what they were like.”

“It’s not quite the same, everyone has different reactions. But you could stay with me, it would be in a safe environment and you could keep an eye on me.” Sole offered. Hancock stepped up close, he gently put a hand over Sole’s and took the chems.

“Please. I can not let you do this. It starts of with just a little test, then leads into more. And I can not risk that happening to you. Please don’t.” Hancock pleaded, with such care in his voice. Sole could see the fear on his face. They nodded, not wanting to worry Hancock. Sole had already started using chems, but seeing Hancock like this they would stop.

MacCready: He walked in on Sole testing, and smacked the chem away.

“Are you crazy? Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, I do, that’s why I am doing it.” Sole said they were curious, and explained they had been testing for a while. “I have been safe about it though.”

“Nothing about this is safe, these are incredibly dangerous.”

“Well sit here and stay with me, I will show you I am not in danger.”

“NO. You need to stop.”

Sole expressed the couldn’t they had already found so much useful information, and was about to use it to try and help others. MacCready refused to acknowledge that any good can come from this.

“If you proceed to use these then I can not be around you anymore. I don’t want to be here when you get addicted.” MacCready left, sad and angry. He was gone for quite a while. But then he began to feel guilty. What if Sole needed him. What if they got hurt because he wouldn’t stay by their side. He returned, and said that even though he didn’t like it he would stay by Sole in case they needed him.

Piper: Sole had gone out on a job alone, leaving Piper alone at the settlement. She wasn’t looking for secrets but sometimes she just stumbles across things. Going through Sole’s house she found the lab and the stash of chems. Piper found the notebook and read all the notes Sole had written down. She waited for Sole to come home then confronted them about it.

“I get why you’re doing it.” Piper said after Sole explained what they were doing. “What I want to know is why you wouldn’t tell me?”

“I didn’t want to concern you.”

“Blue, you get into gunfights every day. I’m always concerned about you. Look, I’m not going to stop you because I do think you could help a lot of people. But please, bring me in on it. Let me be here to keep an eye on you, so you don’t get hurt.”

Sole agreed. Going forward they only took chems in Piper’s presence. After a while Sole was beginning to get results and started taking medications to raiders. Piper wrote a story about it, printing it for the Diamond city news. It caught a lot of attention and word spread, soon lots of people were seeking Sole out to get their help.

Preston: Sole had set up a safe area at their old home. They were sitting at a desk just about to use a chem when Preston walked in on them.

“What are you doing?” He yelled, rushing over and smacking the chem away.

“Relax Preston, it’s okay.”

“No this is not okay; these are incredibly bad for you. I have to deal with this from mama Murphy I can’t do this with you too.” Sole explained that they had been carefully testing them, with breaks and detoxing. And that they had found some very useful medicines to help cure themselves. They explained that if they kept going, they could help raiders and others who want to be cured too. Preston shook his head.

“No, I don’t care what good you think this will do I won’t let you do it anymore. Please Sole, promise you won’t do it anymore.”

“Preston, I’ve gotten this far, I can’t stop now.” It took a lot of persuasion, Preston was not keen on the idea at all. But Sole was able to calm Preston’s nerves and get him somewhat on board. Although he forbade Sole from doing any extreme chems.

Valentine: “Nick. I’ve had an idea, but I need someone I can trust.” Sole stated bursting into Valentine’s office.

“Uh sure. What is it?” He asked, expecting a mission of some kind.

“I’ve been testing chems. So far just small things and seeing how I react. Then I thought, what if I test all the chems and try to find medications that help me. And use them to help other people who suffer addictions? Well, I want to do it, but I need someone to keep an eye on me to make sure I get help if reactions are too severe.” Sole explained.

“You’re taking chems?” Valentine asked, skipping over the rest. Nick proceeded to give a long detailed explanation as to why chems are bad, and ‘gently’ berate Sole for being so reckless. He then took a long hard think.

“I really don’t like this and wish you’d not done it in the first place. But I have to admit if you were able to help people with their addictions it would be good. Why do you have to be so kind and selfless in a chaotic way?” Sole shrugged.

“Ok. I will help you, only because I think you’ll go ahead even if I say no.”

Strong: “What human doing?”

“Experimenting.” Sole said, writing down notes after taking a chem.

“Not good for human. Bad stuff.”

“It’s okay Strong, I’m being safe about it. This is going to help people.”

“Bad stuff help humans?”

“Well. I’m using the bad stuff, so I can find good ways to cancel out the bad stuff. I’m finding ways to cure people.” Strong scratched his head. He wasn’t sure why Sole wanted to do it. But it was their choice and he wasn’t going to stop them.

X6-88: “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Those things tend to impede your judgement.”

“I’ll be fine X6, trust me.”

“That’s hard to do with such vile things in your hand.” Sole had started testing chems before X6 joined them. They tried to do it when X6 was not looking, to keep private and also not shoving it in his face. But he had caught them. “I don’t need you being loopy when we take a job together.”

“I don’t take them when I have to work, I always make sure I am clean before a job.”

X6 was not keen on the idea of Sole testing chems. He knows where testing usually leads. But he could not force them to stop. He let it slide and Sole continued to test chems, but only when they had down time. X6 would make sure Sole was completely coherent before doing any jobs with them.

[amazinglyegg]

Egg!!!!!!! I wanna kno. What companions you thing would smoke the za? Which companions would enjoy it or hate it or not wanna try it again?

Finally, now THIS is a good companions react!!!

Side note you almost got a "companions react to pizza" because I did NOT know what "za" was slang for. I was very confused on why companions would smoke pizza. I am not a cool druggie :(

Also also I Have Never Touched A Drug Ever so all my information comes from spying on my older sister and her friends "doing their homework in the backyard" when I was like seven. Enjoy.

Companions React to: Weed

Cait:

Yeah sure why not

Pre Benign Intervention she already does a shit ton of psycho so she wouldn't turn down weed

Post Benign Intervention probably won't continue though for obvious reasons

Not the type of person to make it her entire personality though

Codsworth:

Maybe???

Okay okay I know he can't actually smoke it BUT

It's not like they'd program a mr handy to snitch on their owner for slurping on the bong (is that what they do??? That's what it sounds like)

If Sole's having a good time with friends then Codsworth's happy to be the designated sober friend :)

Curie:

Will only try it if its edibles

Smoking is BAD FOR THE LUNGS and she's the type of person to smell someone smoking weed from across the road and complain about it

She is interested in seeing what being high is like and there's no real risks to it so she's down for experimenting

Probably won't do it again but she enjoyed the experience

Danse:

Medical use marijuana?? More likely than you may think

NOT a partier tho. Will take his One (1) perscribed gummy bear he keeps in his weekly pill organizer and frown at anyone who even mentions the number 420

Makes it surprisingly easy to sneak it past him tho. "I'm making weed brownies.... for medical reasons.... the baking helps with my anxiety as well. Don't eat them."

Deacon:

Oh yeah totally [lie]

You would 100% THINK he's the guy to smoke pot. He knows all the code words. He wears the weed shirts. He knows what "za" means.

But deep down he's a fraud

After getting clean from hard chems he really just does not want to touch any drugs or be around high people in general

His deep insecurities and fear of being abandoned as soon as he's unlikeable will leave him too scared to admit any of that though, so he'll end up smoking just to fit in if he can't find a good excuse to do otherwise

Desdemona:

Has probably done it as a teen and probably enjoyed it but won't do it again

She is too important to the Railroad to ever be inebriated

Unless Glory convinces her to take a break and then mayybbee she'll get high with her

Takes a lot of convincing though and will probably only happen as a celebration for destroying the Institute

Father:

Sole will blow smoke in his face and he will die right there and then he is Too Old

Gage:

Gage canonically doesn't like drugs but come on he'd smoke weed

Just a little bit. As a treat. Not the type of person to get ridiculously high for hours

Probably had a bunch of bad highs in the past and now is too scared to do it again around others

Hancock:

Not only does he enjoy it, he's like, Into It

Knows all the different kinds of strains and will shit talk your dealer if you show up with Low Quality Weed

Don't ask him too many questions or else you'll be listening to him explain the details of every strain for three hours straight

Maccready:

NO drugs are BAD and he needs to be a GOOD INFLUENCE for his SON

Ends up getting FOMO immediately and tries it.

Probably enjoys it??? Idk bro this is such a hard prompt I DONT KNOW WHAT WEED IS LIKE

Maxson:

I give up

Nick:

This comic is all you need

Piper:

Would try it if Sole gave it to her

NOT IN FRONT OF NAT THOUGH

Would enjoy it

Uses all the terminology wrong though

Preston:

Lets be honest he needs it

Probably won't like it recreationally and good luck getting him to a doctor so he can get it medically

But medical marijuana would be helpful for him pls get him some

X6-88:

He's a teen boy who's rebelling from his parents (the institute) for the first time so of course he tries it

Acts like he enjoys it even if he doesn't

Does this

Bonus Carrington because I have a good guess on who sent this ask:

[x688plsloveme]

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

For someone as infamous as Sole, a bar in one of the bigger, safer cities was out of the question. They'd just get bombarded with people asking for help and their stupid bleeding heart wouldn't let them say no.

Which leads them to smaller settlements. Sketchier settlements. Thankfully, they have achieved the impossible with having over a dozen close friends as an adult and never leave home base alone. They weren't particularly afraid of anyone looking to hurt them when they had a friend on standby. But of course, they couldn't be around all the time as nature calls or smoke breaks happen. But even while drunk, Sole was a force to be reckoned with so they still weren't worried.

That's why their guard was down at the bar and they didn't notice the random drifter putting something in their drink.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

R! Male! FO4 Companions React to Sole Being Tortured

(Ask) It’s been a while since I’ve read something angsty so… FO4 R!M! companions react to watching sole get tortured and when given a moment to rest, sole still tries to comfort him and asks if he’s okay.

Alrighty! After several years of writing (it seems) and re-writing and proof reading and overthinking, here is part two!

And I'm sorry! I hope you like feeling bad, cuz that's what this one is all about! (Although, the endings are somewhat happy ��)

Included Below: Deacon, MacCready, Nick, & Preston

And Part 1 is Here (Danse, Hancock, & X6-88)

Also, y'all better buckle your seatbelts and get comfortable, cuz this here is a long ass post, but I hope you enjoy!? Maybe? It is pretty violent though, so make sure to check the TWs.

Serious Trigger Warnings for what's under the cut: violence, injuries, gore, burning, guns, knives, lynching, torture (duh), suicidal thoughts, foul language, allusions to r#pe (nothing explicit, but still, if it makes you uncomfortable please just sit this one out), and all around bad vibes ahead, so please proceed with caution!

Deacon:

Deacon’s wrists burned as he felt a rough material fasten too tightly around them. The world was still shrouded in darkness behind his heavy eyelids, but the distorted sound of nearby voices was unmistakable. As was the horrid feeling of that same rough material winding around his neck. He felt a pressure tug back on his windpipe, the feeling of it thrusting him forwards into full consciousness and miraculously giving him the willpower to wrench open his own heavily lidded eyes. 

Deacon squinted and flinched his face away as the deep orange of the setting sun crashed into his sensitive irises, the sheen of the nearby water only exaggerating the thing’s brightness through the ineffective curtain of ruined buildings ahead of him. He blinked rapidly, his head still foggy from whatever the hell had been tossed in his drink back at the bar, the bar with Sole, where he had, against all his own wishes, found himself falling asleep against the table... It was all coming back to him, as he slowly made out his surroundings. They were… familiar, but his clouded mind couldn’t figure out quite why. He licked over his lips, his mouth uncomfortably dry and his skin cold and clammy as the feeling of his own body began to return to him. 

“S–” he started, before stopping himself abruptly.  

Even if they are here with me, I can’t say their name. This all was clearly planned, and if these people know about me and Sole, about how close we are, and how much I…

Deacon tried to swallow down his nerves, his Adam's apple bobbing with the effort of it as he forced the movement on his parched and restrained throat. His memories returned to him slowly, and then it all suddenly became clear. 

The bar, Jamaica Plain, Sole getting food, the damned drink, this place… This place. 

If he hadn’t been so impeded by the effects of whatever drug was used on him, Deacon would’ve known this place in less than a heartbeat, and his eyes widened as it all suddenly hit him.

Who the hell was responsible for this shit? How could anyone know? Could this be just a coincidence? 

He nearly scoffed at that idea.

Not likely. Definitely not with my good luck.

Deacon's eyes darted from side to side, and he found difficulty in turning his head, as feeling seeped down into his aching muscles once again. The spy tugged his hands apart, or tried to, and found them bound with thick rope. The same was true for his ankles behind him, and his knees below.

Right. So that's what that feeling was before...

Upon trying to look down, he discovered that his neck was bound as well, that it was holding him upright, that there was a pressure more than uncomfortable, more than just a simple dryness, but a pain in the way his throat supported a good portion of his weight. With a quiet grunt of effort, Deacon raised his eyes and head to the point above him. 

A protruding wooden beam jutted out overhead, the rope around his neck was strung up and wrapped around it, loose enough not to haul him up and cut off his airway, but tight enough still to hurt. 

How the fuck did these bastards find me? They were dead. I saw to it that there was no way for them to trace me, for years… How?!

“Finally awake?” Deacon heard an unfamiliar voice behind him, and he took in a breath. 

Don't give anything away, Deeks. Just another interrogation. We're great at those. 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" 

The man behind him didn't give him so much as a scoff before Deacon felt a heavy blow to the back of his head. 

"No funny business, agent." 

"Oh, so you haven't heard of me, then? Funny business is kinda my forte." 

Deacon turned his head as much as the rope allowed, chancing a glimpse at his captor as the large man circled around him like a predator stalking prey.

"I don't care whach'er damn forte is.” The man growled, “After we're done with you, I'm bettin' you won't think yer so funny." 

Deacon hissed comically. 

"Yeahhhhhh, I don't know. Lots of folks have tried. I think you might be underestimating my abilities a bit here, pal." 

"Quit talking to that piece of shit, Jace." Another voice came from beyond Deacon’s vision. "Ma said not to. This one's tricky. He'll get in yer head, 'n such." 

Oh good, he’s got a friend. Well, the more the merrier, I suppose. 

"From the sound of it, I don't really want to be in either of your heads. I don’t do well in big, empty spaces.” Another blow hit him, this time landing hard against his cheek and making his vision burst red. 

“Stop talking down to us like yer in any sorta position to.” The first man, Jace, spat at him, as the other rounded into Deacon’s line of sight.

Certainly the two were related, but he could’ve already inferred that. They were both big guys, with strong backs and seemingly dull minds. Hardly criminal masterminds, though… no, these guys were textbook henchmen. 

But what the hell do they want with me? Could this really just be some random coincidence? Much as it was starting to seem that way, Deacon’s conscience wouldn’t let him accept that. Not with the place from his past they’d dragged him to, not with this rope around his neck.  

“How can I?” He said, stalling to try and sort through his thoughts, “You guys make it so easy.”  

They know I’m an agent, I know that much, but they definitely aren’t Institute types. Could be Brotherhood, what with the jughead intellect, but still… This all seems too personal for that. 

“I said cut it out!” Jace’s large, balled fist made its acquaintance with the side of Deacon’s head once again, and he felt the point of contact begin to throb painfully. 

“Don’t let him get to ya. He’s jus’ doin’ it on purpose. To get a rise outta ya.”

“Yer just gonna stand there an’ let him insult us? After all he’s–” 

“Enough banter, boys. My turn.” A woman’s voice sounded from behind Deacon, and he strained his head,  looking the gray-haired woman in the eyes as she wound around his front to face him. 

“Go on, Donny.” She said to one of the boys without breaking Deacon’s eye contact, and the second man nodded before setting off behind Deacon’s line of sight. 

Hm. This must be ‘ma’.

“Nice kids you’ve got here, lady. Yours?” Deacon asked, willing the pounding in his head to cease so he could focus. 

I’ve got a feeling this one may be more of an adversary. The dramatics of all this do point to some kind of villain.

She kept her gaze locked to the spy as she stood in front of her remaining son, her piercing eyes as dark and lusterless as her faded hair, as tired as the worn lines creasing her face. 

Had he ever seen her before? Deacon couldn’t quite recall.

“I’ve gotta say,” he continued, “I hope you’ve got better manners than Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. You know, for my head’s sake.” 

“Shut your fucking mouth.” 

Guess not.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this moment.” Her lips barely moved as she spoke, tasting the words and letting them settle on her tongue like a fine vintage before they left her mouth.

“Oh yeah, me too.” He shot back quickly, “But you know what’d be even better? If I knew what the hell any of this was about.” 

“How many years since that day, in this very same place…” At last, her sharp eyes left him, looking away, lost in thought as she gazed back over the horizon and into her memories. 

“Since the day my sons lost their father, and I lost the man I loved.” The piercing cold of her gaze jutted back to lock onto Deacon once more, and his brows raised at the intensity of it. 

“All because of you.” 

She lunged towards him, her words like a whip for all the violence they promised, and from this distance, Deacon truly could make out the details of her face, the color of her eyes, the lines upon her skin that told her life’s story.

It all washed over him at once. 

The woman’s words, the two boys, this place, this rope. He knew who she was, though he’d only met her a handful of times. The men and women in the gang weren’t too eager to discuss their personal lives with each other, if they even had one, but he remembered this woman. She was more enthusiastic than most about the cause, even when she was busy rearing her boys while her husband wreaked havoc by Deacon’s side. All those years ago…

Until he’d left. 

Until they found him. Until they found Barbara… After all that cruelty at their hands, Deacon’s conscience wouldn’t grant him the luxury of considering the rest of the gang’s personal lives, their families. On that day, he saw nothing but red, felt nothing but fury and heart-wrenching guilt. He’d thought he’d paid for his crimes against synths all these years, but what he’d done to the other UP Deathclaws… He never wanted to think he’d have to pay for that. 

Guess I was wrong.

“Listen, Wilma,” she tensed visibly as he spoke her name, as though it was a crime against humanity for his foul lips to form something so dear to her. “I get it, what I did was wrong, maybe. But I lost my wife that day, the woman I lo–”

“She was a synth.” Wilma hissed at him, now so close to his face that he could feel her searing breath against his throbbing cheek. 

“That thing was the very filth you once swore to destroy. It didn’t deserve mercy, and you didn’t deserve vengeance. My husband was doing you a favor. Without him, you would’ve never known the truth. Instead of thanking him, you killed him.” Deacon flinched as she spat at him, close enough to taste her hatred, but too far to bash his head against her nose.  

“You murdered him. In cold blood, and now, you betray your past even further, drag the name of the UP Deathclaws through the mud, even after everything you did to destroy us. You put real people’s lives at risk, for them. For those things!” Deacon fumed as Wilma began to pace in front of him, her tone harsh, hands gesturing feverishly as she kept her furious gaze locked to his. He could feel his face, normally so well-controlled, starting to curl into a snarl of its own volition, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from interrupting her.

She’s so emotional, maybe I can get her to give something away… Somehow escape this. Stall long enough for Sole to realize my absence, track me down and get here before they have the chance to pull the rope around my neck. 

“The Railroad is as selfish and dangerous an organization as they come.” Wilma continued angrily, head lashing from side to side as she paced like a cornered Yao Gui. 

“Enabling those imposters, those crimes against humanity to infect our lives. Tell me, were you always so disloyal? Was there ever a time you were honest about your devotion to the cause you fought for? I told my husband never to trust you, not with the way you reacted after that first lynching, I told him you were a sympathizer, but he chose to trust you. To let you go off on your own, in good faith that you would keep to yourself.” 

“I did keep to myself, I was living on a farm, in the middle of–” Deacon bit back the words of retort, and took a deep breath, forcing a lid over his boiling emotions.

I can’t reason with her, I know that. What I say isn’t going to matter. I just need to keep her talking.

He shook his head as much as the noose would allow.

 “How the fuck did you find me?” 

She smirked at his question as a sick sort of pride flashed across her face.

“It was hard, I won’t lie to you. All these years tracking your movements, waiting for the perfect time, for you to let your guard down. But you’re pretty smart. Those were good tricks you played, good efforts, with the faces and such, it might’ve fooled anyone else. Might’ve kept all others off your tracks. But despite your famous attention to detail, you never did bother to meet my brother in law. He’s a renowned surgeon, you know… Well known for such procedures as this,” A rough, wrinkled hand came up to grasp firmly at Deacon’s jaw, tilting his head from side to side as she observed the newest façade he’d donned. 

“Well, it makes it pretty easy to find folks like you. Though, I must say, this face really isn’t one of my favorites. The one you had, what, two years ago? That one was good, you had that strong jaw, and those cheekbones that really made the color of your eyes pop. Made me a little flustered when I first spied you walking out of that medic’s cabin, but apparently this one’s worked well enough for you. And I must say, I am quite grateful for that new partner of yours.”

Deacon’s breath caught in his throat and he quickly jerked his head back. Her hand released him, and a small grin quirked her lips. 

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Shit.

“Without that… Sole, was it? Yes, well, without them, I don’t think you ever would’ve let your guard down so foolishly back in that bar. You were always so careful before they came along, I really should give them my thanks.” 

At that, the woman turned her head, and Deacon’s gaze followed her eyes to the other brother, the one who had vanished. 

The one who now had a firm hold on Sole’s battered form as he dragged them roughly into Deacon’s line of sight. 

His stomach dropped and his blood ran cold at the sight of them. Sole’s face was red and swollen, purple bruises littered their exposed arms and legs, their clothes were torn and covered in dark mud and crimson, and they were bleeding heavily from a nasty knife wound on the side of their neck. 

“What’s so special about this one, I wonder?” The woman droned on, clearly paying Deacon’s poorly masked agony no heed, “They a synth too?” 

He heard the words close to his ear, and finally, Deacon ripped his gaze from his partner to try and jam his head into the woman’s nose, but she was swift as she drew her head back and away from him. 

“Well, we both know there’s only one way to find out.” 

Fire burned through Deacon’s veins, and he began to struggle against his restraints, pulling desperately at the ropes securing his wrists and legs as hard as he could, until he felt the material begin to burn his flesh from the friction. 

He didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything right now, anything except them. 

“Donny, you still have your knife on you?” She asked, her cruel voice almost giddy in pitch.

Deacon gritted his teeth to the point of pain, his struggling proving fruitless as his mind went a million miles a minute trying to find the words, the actions, the anything to stop them, or even slow them down, give him time to think, to get Sole fucking out of this. 

“Course, mama, always.” 

The man holding Sole’s arm used his free hand to pull a long combat knife from the sheath on his belt, the sharp tip glinting in the growing darkness of the night. 

“You remember where abouts that chip is that I told you about?” 

“Sure do.” The bastard answered his mother with a sickening grin. 

His grip tightened on Sole’s limp arm, they flinched at the contact ever so slightly in their dazed and weakened state, and as Donny turned to press the knife to his beloved, Deacon couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hey! Okay, alright, enough! Enough. Please.” Deacon shouted, his pulse rapidly pounding in his ears as panic rose through his chest. A panic unlike anything he’d felt since, since…

“You don’t have to do this. Look, Sole didn’t do anything wrong. I did. I was an asshole, alright, I was the worst scum there was, and I deserve this, I really do. Please, do whatever you want to me, make me hurt, make me suffer and bleed and, and die. I don’t fucking care, okay? But don’t hurt Sole, please.” 

Deacon’s desperation made his voice shake, and he couldn’t fail to notice the way his partner came fully to consciousness then, the way that they immediately began struggling in Donny's grasp, the way that the tears came to their face as their mottled mind realized what it was exactly that Deacon was telling these people to do; and god it hurt, to see the pain in their eyes, to see the way they wanted to object, the way they shook their head and tears streamed down from their perfect eyes onto their perfect cheeks and their shoulders shook with every ragged breath. 

I can’t let these people hurt them any more.

“Please.” He continued desperately, forcing himself to wrench his gaze from Sole and look the woman ahead of him in the eye, “Please, don’t do this. Because despite what I was, what I did, the only thing Sole ever did wrong was care about me. It’s my fault, everything is my fault, not theirs, never theirs.” Deacon felt his voice begin to falter as a savage heat rose to his cheeks, “Sole’s good, not like me, please just, let them keep being good. Please. Let them go.” 

There was a brief silence as Sole’s lip trembled, as Deacon tried in vain to hold back a sob, as Donny and Jace both looked to their mother for direction, as Wilma just stared into Deacon with her dull eyes, shining with something the spy couldn’t quite perceive. 

“Wow.” She finally whispered, even as she stood close beside Sole, Deacon could hear her. 

“I never thought we could be so lucky…” She turned away from Sole, approaching Deacon slowly and he felt his body tremble with barely checked hatred for the woman before him. 

“So lucky,” she continued, her voice cold and measured as the sting of a piercing needle, “As to find someone whom you care about so deeply. So we can make you suffer as I did.” 

For once in his life, Deacon was utterly speechless. He knew he deserved this, deserved to suffer, and he thought one day he might be forced to pay for all he’s done, but never like this. 

He never once thought he would find someone he could care about as deeply as he does Sole, never thought he’d be able to trust anyone again, but god, he did. Deacon trusted them with his life, with the secrets of his past, with his true and unguarded self, and he loved them, more than he ever could love himself, more than he had loved anyone since Barbara, and even then… perhaps more even than her. 

They didn’t deserve this. 

That, Deacon knew from the beginning. He didn’t deserve them, but he let himself live with it, let himself be happy, because Sole insisted that that’s what they were. They were happy with him, and all he’d wanted to do was try and be happy in return. 

Then he remembered. 

He doesn’t get to be happy. Not properly, not ever, because of all he's done. He should’ve fucking known that, so he could’ve distanced himself from Sole early on, as he did with everyone else, as he meant to do with Sole, before they captured his heart. 

Now he remembered why he did it. 

As if I needed another fucking reminder.

“You bastards… He’s suffered enough!” 

Sole’s shaky voice piped up from where they knelt behind Wilma’s form, and Deacon’s eyes widened as they threw themself at the man beside them, dislodging the knife from his grasp and sending his ass into the mud. The spy’s struggles renewed themselves as Wilma whipped around to face his love, where they lay sprawled out on the ground, grasping desperately for the dropped knife with their bound hands. 

Come on, come on!

Deacon pulled and tugged and threw himself forward, setting his sights on Wilma to knock her over, to stall her so Sole could get free, but the rope around his neck tightened to the point of suffocation before he could reach the woman. 

The other brother rushed towards the downed ex-vault dweller before Wilma waved him away. 

“Get to the other one, take hold of his rope and don’t be afraid to tug if he gets rowdy.” 

“No…” Deacon choked out as Wilma roughly kicked the knife out of Sole’s hands, sending the blade spiraling through the sparse grass over to her son, where he was picking himself up from the ground with a look of vehement wrath upon his mud-splattered face. 

“I’ll getchu fer that.” He spat, even as Wilma’s booted foot made contact with the side of Sole’s head. Deacon winced hard as he heard his partner groan in pain, feeling with his own body each of the blows that the vengeful widow dealt to their already battered body. 

“Now behave yourself, ya shit, or I’ll make this even slower for ya.” 

“We’ll get out of this, Sole.” He told them, the belief in his voice as false as the features of his own face. “We’ve gotten out of worse before, haven’t we?”

“Pull that rope there, Jace.” Wilma spat at her son, and Deacon felt a burning pressure against the skin of his neck. 

“I’m telling you the truth this time.” He managed to rasp, and he heard Sole choke out a sob from where they lay crumpled on the filthy ground. 

“You know what to do, Donny. Let’s get this over with.” The gray-haired woman turned her eyes once more to rest on Deacon’s nearly defeated expression. “Don’t do it too fast though. I wanna hear ‘em scream. The way yer daddy did, all those years ago. I wanna enjoy their suffering. The way this bastard did as your father lay dying.” 

Deacon’s face scrunched with rage as he continued to struggle, the burning pressure on his bound limbs hardly registering in his one-track mind as he fought with everything he had to get to Sole before Donny’s knife could touch them. 

“As you say, ma.” 

Sole whimpered as the man knelt beside them, barely conscious after the older woman’s assault on their body, and Deacon felt a hot wetness burn its way down his cheeks. 

In the darkness, he could barely make out their moonlit expression, couldn’t see quite when Donny took the knife to them, but he could damn well hear it. 

Sole’s scream felt like boiling lead tearing through his veins, and he couldn’t hold back his sobbing anymore. Deacon began screaming a slew of nonsensical profanities, struggling all the more, even as the rope around his neck tightened to the point of suffocation, pulling his knees off the floor, burning and digging into his flesh in the same way the delicate tip of the knife was descending upon the skin of the one he loved most in the world. 

What can I do, what can I do, what can I do?! How can I stop this? There has to be a way. There must be a way! Goddammit Deacon, fucking think you useless piece of shit!

His eyes clenched closed, the gears in his head all but broken as another shriek of pain jolted his body and scattered every thought and memory he’d ever had in an effort to just escape before that knife had the chance to tear into Sole’s head far enough that it’d be too late. 

Think, think, think, think. Fucking think!

“That’s enough.” A new voice sounded, and Deacon’s eyes shot open. 

“Minutemen, open fire!” 

The spy’s desperate gaze tore from his partner across the clearing to the man who appeared within his peripheral vision. The harsh, metallic cranking of Preston’s laser musket sounded behind him before the scarlet ray burst forth, taking Donny squarely in the shoulder. 

The man cried out, dropping the bloodied knife to grasp at his injured appendage, even as the other two minutemen began to open fire on Wilma and Jace. 

“Pull that rope there, Jace!” She shouted desperately, “We’re not leavin’ ‘till we finish this!” 

Wilma was crazed as she shouted at her son, and a new sense of panic rose in Deacon’s chest as he felt the loop around his neck increase in its pressure, hauling him up until his knees couldn’t even graze the muddy ground below. 

The furious widow managed to wrench an old revolver from its worn leather holster at her belt and she began firing. Through vision clouded by his own watering eyes, Deacon looked on as one of the three minutemen saviors took aim at the man behind him, and fired. The rope slackened and Deacon heaved in a gulp of air as he came clattering back to the ground. That same man who’d downed Jace ran over and knelt behind him, beginning to undo the rope around his neck, and the binding around his wrists.  

“No.” Deacon tried to tell the man, but it only came out a croak from his damaged throat. 

No, help Sole, dammit. Help them, not me! Please.

Nothing left Deacon’s throat. Even as he continued to struggle with his breathing, as he tried to plead with the minuteman at his side to leave him and help his Sole. 

Even still, as Deacon’s eyes rested on his partner, as they shakily rose from the ground, the back of their head matted with blood from Donny’s knife, even as the widow raised her revolver and set her sights on his partner, his love, his Sole, Deacon couldn’t shout a warning, couldn’t voice a gasp, couldn’t scream their name… even as Wilma fired a shot. 

Deacon tried. He tried to scream, to wrench any pitiful something from his useless throat, to voice his agony as he saw the bullet tear through Sole’s shoulder, but still, no sound left him. 

In the next instant, Wilma turned to Deacon. She raised her gun with a wild smirk on her face, a madness in her eyes that he could make out even from where he still knelt upon the ground, and she took aim. He heard a shot go off, and closed his eyes tight as he awaited the sting of the bullet burying itself within him. 

Yet, no such feeling came. Deacon blinked his eyes open just in time to see Wilma collapse to the floor, another minuteman lowering his weapon as he looked down at her body somberly. 

Across the way, Preston knelt by his downed friend and General, wrapping his scarf around the bullet wound in Sole’s shoulder, and whispering words of comfort Deacon failed to hear. Soon enough, the binds around his legs loosened, and he couldn’t even spare the man who aided him a second glance before he began to move towards his companion. 

“Sole.” He tried, but it wasn’t more than a raspy whisper as he collapsed to the ground beside Preston, one shaking hand unwittingly reaching for their injured shoulder, while the other sought to caress their bloodstained face. 

All of the previous hesitancy Deacon’s ever had with them was gone in that moment. All of his discomfort with intimacy, his unwillingness to let slip his true feelings, all of his reservations about caring for someone with everything he had in him, they were all rendered completely obsolete in light of his desperate relief. Sole blinked up at him tiredly, the weakest of smiles touching their lips as Deacon’s face swam into focus. Preston laid a heavy hand on Deacon’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly before picking up his musket and ordering the others to do something or another with the attackers. 

Deacon didn’t care. He didn’t pay attention. If his captors were all dead, that was it, if they were alive, they wouldn’t be for long; and all that mattered now was Sole. He pulled them closer, trying to make them more comfortable, stroking his hand over their face as tears threatened to spill from his eyes for the umpteenth time that horrid day. 

“A-are you alright?” Sole asked him in a quiet voice tinged with pain, their eyes half-lidded in their exhaustion, and Deacon choked. 

Am I alright? Are they fucking kidding?

He nodded to them vigorously, using his thumb to gently wipe away the tears that fell from his eyes onto the skin of their cheeks. 

“Y’know,” He croaked out weakly, “I have been better, not gonna lie.” Deacon took a deep breath, and one of Sole’s hands came up to graze the bruised and torn flesh of his injured throat. He brought his own hand up to meet it, to grasp theirs in his and hold it tightly over his chest, reveling in the feel of their strong pulse against his trembling fingers.  

“I’m just relieved you’re still here with me.” He breathed. 

He heard them hmm in reply as his lips brushed their hairline, reaching around to feel gingerly at the wound on the back of their head. 

“Shit. I’ve got you.” Sole flinched inwards, burying their face in his chest at the feel of his fingers over their tender wound. “Hold on, okay?” 

Deacon tore apart the bottom of his shirt, folding the separated strip of fabric over and pressing it to the back of their head, hoping with gritted teeth that all this damage wouldn't be permanent. That one day, maybe, they could both put all this shit behind them, that they would make it out of this. That Sole would be okay. 

If they weren’t, I wouldn’t need some deranged widow to end it all for me. No, if Sole doesn’t make it out of this, I’ll finish that shit myself. 

“Um, sorry to interrupt,” Preston piped up from behind him and Sole, “But I’ve sent for a medic from Jamaica Plain, they should be here soon to help.” 

“Good,” Deacon managed, turning his head without taking his eyes and hands off of Sole, “Thank you. Preston.” 

“No need to thank me. I only wish we’d gotten here sooner.” 

Yeah, you and me both. 

“And oh, Deacon, um…” The minuteman’s voice lowered to a hushed tone as he continued, “One of the people, the woman, she’s… well, she’s still alive. We have her here, if you want to ask any questions… or anything.” 

Questions?

Questions?! No… 

“I don’t have any questions for her.” Deacon said lowly, and hate swirled deep in his chest at the thought of the one who did this to his love sitting quietly only meters away, still living, while Sole writhed in pain for crimes they had no part in. 

“Oh, uh, alright. Well, we–”

“But I have one question for you.” Preston’s brows furrowed for a moment as Deacon fixed him with a cold, hard glare, so different now than it’d been only a moment ago. 

“There still a noose hanging from that beam?”

MacCready:

“They never listen. Never. I know I’m not an authority on like, anything, but come on. This? Really? No caps, all dangerous and stupid.” 

MacCready kicked a tin can with a weathered boot as he muttered to himself in the quiet of the Commonwealth. The late afternoon sun bore down on his shoulders and neck as he glared at the ground and stomped along the ruined road. 

“It was clearly a trap. Helping Bunker Hill with some raiders? Yeah, going to their death, more like.” 

MacCready made his way to a dilapidated building, leaning his sniper rifle against the faded gray bricks before plopping down beside it. He let his head fall back against the wall, the shade partially cooling his heated temper; yet still, he couldn’t keep his incessant grumbling at bay. 

“Not risking myself like that. Not with Duncan still waiting for me. He’s finally better, and now, what? Throwing my own life away for the benefit of some strangers? Why can’t these people handle their own damn problems?” 

He tore the hat from his head, wringing the fabric between restless fingers as he felt an uneasiness bubble in his stomach. 

“Why didn’t they listen? Everyone around here knows about that place. Nobody ever comes out of East Boston Prep school. Everyone knows that!” MacCready was shouting by the end of his rant, barely-checked frustration present in every word. He had to do it this way though, once they went inside, once they saw the place, they’d come back and he’d tell them. He’d tell them what he never gets to. 

I was right, Sole. I was right, and you know it. Never shoulda gone in there, huh?

As much as he wanted to, MacCready couldn’t smile at the thought. Instead, he gulped, feeling a bead of sweat creep down from his temple. Something twisted within him, and he felt his hands begin to tremble. 

What if they didn’t though?

Sole’s stubbornness was legendary. He should know, better than anyone. It outdid even his own, which he was always impressed by. No matter the argument, they always seemed to win out, and he couldn’t believe that was about to change now.

Something’s wrong.

A small voice whispered at the back of his head. It’d been there about an hour, muted and small, but there, nonetheless, and he’d tried to ignore it. For the first hour. Then the second. Now it's been almost three, and the voice was getting substantially louder.  

I have to go back. 

Screw the argument. Screw their foolishness and my own. Screw them ignoring me when I tried to tell them. It’s not worth it. Losing them over something so freaking stupid is not worth it. 

MacCready groaned as he stood, snatching his rifle and beginning a brisque trek back to the old prep school. His thoughts changed drastically on the journey, from annoyance at having to double back and waste time like this, to a dull panic that rose in his chest, making his breath come out in short gasps, and his heart thump all the more frantically against his ribcage. Now, he wasn’t mad about the argument, but at himself. It’s been too long, and they could be hurt, they could be captured, his Sole could be…

How could I be so dumb? To risk losing them over this? For what, pride? A chance to be right? Dammit. Me making it out alive means next to nothing if they… If they’re… If something happened to them. 

Why the hell would I take the risk?

MacCready was running by the time the school came into sight, but he slid to a stop at the entrance, gasping for breath as he tried quickly to come up with a game plan. 

Going straight in through the front door seemed like a suicide mission, and a back door probably wouldn’t be much better. The raiders would definitely have traps, if not an ambush set up, but maybe if their focus is on Sole… He shook his head vigorously, trying not to let those thoughts pierce his consciousness. 

Windows. His mind suggested. 

Right. 

The building was littered with them, and though some were boarded up and the rest were filthy and hard to see into, maybe he could make them work.

MacCready climbed the ruined stairwell to a nearby building, trying to remain as low-profile as possible in case they had lookouts of their own. He had no idea what to expect, except a group of raiders that was a lot more organized than the average savage bands that roamed the Commonwealth. These ones were known for their ruthlessness, for their adept ability to kill or capture anyone that was dumb or desperate enough to enter their territory. 

How could I let Sole fall into their trap? Why. Didn’t. They. Listen?

The sniper worried his teeth against the inside of his cheek unwittingly as he set up his rifle over a concrete ledge, peeking through his scope and into the windows across the way. 

He was right before. They were difficult to see through, but a select few were clean enough for him to get glimpses of the inside, and there, he saw movement. MacCready focused all his energy trying to discern the people within. He knew what Sole had been wearing, knew every part of them like the back of his hand after all their time spent together, and now that would be more valuable than ever.

There were three raiders passing by a set of windows in increments, possibly doing patrols around the building, and another two on the highest level that didn’t seem to move from their posts. 

Guarding something maybe. 

Or someone. 

MacCready gulped hard, trying to steady his breath. He had a small window of opportunity here, and he couldn’t afford any misses on account of his unpredictable breathing and erratic heartbeat. The sniper wasn’t a rookie shot anymore, and even if he was, he couldn’t afford even the smallest margin of error here. 

There were three windows that were already broken, probably from the raiders’ own shots down at any passerbys below, but for now, MacCready was grateful for it. With the silencer on his rifle, he could shoot two or three of the patrolees through the broken windows without making a sound. If he timed it right, they could all go down without any further detection until he killed one of the guards, given that the other was in the same room; however, if he was fast enough, MacCready could likely get the other guard down too, breaking a window in the process, and all would be injured or dead before they knew what hit them. 

He took another deep breath. 

At least my time with the Gunners was good for something. Hold on for me, Sole. I’m coming. 

One more breath, and one patrolee taking a proper position through the first broken window, and MacCready took aim, willing his heartbeat to stay predictable through all of these shots. 

No mistakes. 

No mistakes, or Sole is as good as dead… 

If they’re not alrea– 

No! No thinking that way. Enough. I’m getting them out of this. I have to.

His finger tightened on the trigger, and he–

MacCready’s body seized as a blood-curdling scream rang out through the windows of the school. 

He knew everything about Sole, knew their personality, their emotions, their thoughts, their body, almost as well as he knew his own. He hadn’t spent more than a few hours away from them in months. He knew them. And that scream… That was undoubtedly theirs. 

I’m out of time. 

MacCready grit his teeth, trying to ignore the tears that threatened to fill his eyes, and the throbbing in his chest at that horrid sound, and before his target could pass by the window completely, he took the shot. 

One down. 

The next would pass the other window on the upper floor shortly, he hoped. Luckily, he was right. 

Two down. 

This was where it got tricky. He took aim back at the first window, hoping that the third patrolling raider’s investigation of his buddy’s body would bring him close enough for MacCready to get a clear shot. An arm appeared in the window, barely enough of a target to hit, and not nearly enough for a killing shot. 

The sniper watched closely as the arm jerked back from the window, and then the raider bent down, his head coming into MacCready’s sights for only half a moment, but it was enough, and the third patroller was downed. 

He released his held breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment before snapping them open and taking aim at the final window on the top floor. The two guards were still at their posts, and MacCready got them in his sights as one turned his head to talk to the other. 

They could be talking about the noises downstairs. I need to do this now. 

He saw one nod, before both their bodies began to shift abruptly, and they both moved forward in tandem. MacCready’s finger went to the trigger, he held his breath, and fired. His heartbeat sounded loud in his chest as he peered through his sights, as he waited for the shot to land. And it did. 

But not on the guard. 

Sole was alive alright, he realized as his eyes widened and his mouth tugged open in shock. 

They’d jumped him. Jumped the guard, trying to take him down on their own, weaponless, and before MacCready could utter a noise, or even suck in a breath, his bullet landed deep within his companion’s shoulder. 

“No!” He shouted, as he watched the force of the impact throw them backwards, and immediately the guards began to descend upon them, dragging their injured body away from his sight. 

“No no no no no, Sole, no! Come on!” His fist bashed hard against the windowpane as he slammed down over and over again, heat and frustration filling his body, and regret tearing at the seams of his chest and forcing tears into his eyes. “Dammit!” 

His head fell to his hands, eyes closed tight as he dug the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and rubbed hard. 

"What did I just do?" His breath shook as it escaped him.

Why?

Why this? Why me? Why them? Haven’t we both been through enough? Now this? Are you fucking kidding me?

“I’m so sorry.” MacCready muttered to the concrete walls, letting the raw guilt and anger rise in his body, before allowing it to settle deep within him. He dragged his hands away from his face, and snatched up his rifle, slinging the large gun over his back before pulling out the .44 magnum Sole had once gifted him. 

I’m gonna get you out of there, baby. I promise. I’m gonna fix this. 

MacCready set his jaw and started down the stairs. 

If it’s the last thing I do. 

The sniper burst through the front door, all caution obsolete as he imagined the blood spilling swiftly from his partner’s wound.

From the wound he inflicted.

MacCready shook his head at that, dark blue eyes laser focused on every corner of the room, every shadow, as he brusquely made his way up the stairs and closer to his Sole. 

He peeked around the corner as he made it to the proper floor, eyes and ears wide open for any sign of activity, and he heard it. 

Low voices. The one speaking was certainly a man, the guard maybe? And the other… The person sounded hoarse, cruel, his voice rough as a deathclaw’s hide, and as chilling as a quiet metro tunnel. 

His laugh made MacCready’s skin crawl. 

“...wound of theirs, they'll break soon enough.” 

He heard from the horrid voice, and the other man agreed. 

MacCready began slow steps towards them, trying not to linger on the meaning of their words too long. 

I’ll get Sole out of here long before you assholes have a chance to break anything.

“We should go take a walk, eh?” A woman’s voice sounded now, a little louder than the others. Closer.

The response must’ve been nonverbal, but the footsteps towards the door were unmistakable, and MacCready quickly ducked behind a corner as the two guards stepped into the hallway. He peeked around the wall slowly, eyes focusing and hand pivoting just before the pair noticed him, and he took a shot, catching the male guard in the side of the head. 

Where I was supposed to hit him the first damn time.

He took aim at the next guard, but she shot back first, her gun already at the ready, and he had to duck behind his corner once again. MacCready’s ears rang as a puff of dust sprang up in the wall where the guard’s bullet landed. 

“Mother fucker, we got him, Zeller, but he downed Red Finger!” The woman shouted over her shoulder, and heavy footsteps sounded once again. 

“Back in here.” He heard the chilling voice command, then more footsteps, quicker this time, and MacCready brought his hand around the corner, chancing a blind shot before the woman disappeared from the hall fully. 

“You’re here for the vaulty, right?” The man, the leader, MacCready guessed, shouted from the other room. 

“What’s it to you?” He shouted back, as a snarl crept into his voice. 

“Nothin’.” The bastard chuckled. “Nothin’ at all. Feisty though, ain’t they? Make a good raider, I’d say. But if I have to kill ‘em to rid myself o’ you, I won’t fucking hesitate. Ya hear? So you’d better put that gun o’ yours down, and slide it this way. I wanna see it in the doorway here.”

MacCready’s hand clenched hard around the handle of his .44, teeth gritting to the point of pain as he thought through some sort of plan. Any sort of plan. Anything at all. 

A loud smack sounded from the room, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a whimper. Sole had never made that sound before, one like that, one of defeat and pain and fear. They’ve never needed to. Because they’d always been together. 

Together, these bastards would’ve been a piece of cake. The pair of them would’ve been back at Bunker Hill right now, shaking peoples' hands and sharing a drink over their victory, if he’d just done what Sole suggested in the first place. Now though… 

“Better hurry, snipe. Not sure how much longer your friend can take this. Be a real shame to lose ‘em before having any real fun.”  

MacCready practically growled at his words, the implication making his gut twist in fury and disgust 

“I’ll get you out of this, Sole.” He told them firmly, as he bent to drop his pistol to the floor, “I will.” 

He slid the thing over, all the way to the doorway, just as the raider leader had asked, and stood still, his hand slowly reaching behind to grasp at the handle of his sniper rifle. 

“You’d better be gettin’ that rifle off your back too. Don’t know what kinda raiders you’ve been dealing with, but I ain’t so dumb. Only a fool’d leave his gun behind. Slide that one over too, come on.” 

Shit. MacCready mouthed, nails digging into the wood of his handle as he pulled the gun over his head. 

“Oh, and sniper, thanks by the way. That shot of yours was right on the money. They don’t got too much fight in 'em when they’re bleedin’ out like this.”

MacCready flinched at the pained groan that came from the room, and with a feeling of cold resignation that he refused to acknowledge, he slid the sniper to the doorway. 

“I’m sorry, Sole. Sorry about all this, sorry I–” 

“Oh, shut your whinin’ mouth and get on your fucking knees.” The man appeared through the doorway, slowly, tactically angling himself to prepare for a shot from MacCready, though he assumed the sniper was unarmed. 

This Zeller guy was huge, his metal armor bulky, his eyes cold, and brow set low as he grinned sadistically down at his soon-to-be prisoner. 

If the asshole doesn’t just shoot me now, that is. But if he’s kept Sole alive this long…

“Quit your worryin’. I ain’t gonna shoot ya. No, no, I wouldn’t do that. You really did a number on my army, here. Damn near all of ‘em’r dead, but that’s okay.” The raider’s steps shook the old, creaky floorboards as he approached MacCready where he knelt in the hallway. “Ya know why?”

MacCready glared at him as the leader knelt down in turn, coming face to face with the mercenary as his unnerving grin persisted. 

“Cuz you’re gonna be their replacement.” 

MacCready opened his mouth, but the raider was too quick, the butt of his double barrel coming down on the side of his head before a sound could escape him, and the world went black as a blinding pain exploded from his temple.

“Sleep tight, sniper. When you wake, you’ll join Zeller’s army.” 

–

“You should just give it up. I’m never signing your fucking contract, you ugly piece of shit!” 

MacCready’s eyes blinked open at the sound of Sole’s snarling voice, metal bars and the fogginess of his brain obscuring his view of his partner as they sat, tied crudely to a chair, in the center of the room. 

Zeller knelt in front of them. His canines gleamed in the low light of the dusty room as that sinister, toothy grin continued residing upon his chapped lips. 

Quick as a bullet, his metal gloved hand shot out, cracking across Sole’s cheek in a backhand smack that left them reeling to the side. Even with the heavy chair beneath them, they’d have toppled over completely, if not for the rough shove from the other raider’s boot pushing them back in place. The blood roared in MacCready’s ears, droning out all other sound as he clambered swiftly to his feet. 

His hands grasped tightly at the bars of the cell they’d put him in. His duster was gone, as was his scarf, his ammunition, the knife in his boot, all of it. He was left in his shirt, pants, socks, and nothing else. Even his hat was gone. 

Shit… 

MacCready glared ahead in thought, his sight still bleary, but coming into focus as a metal obstruction caught his eye. There was a nail poking out the side of the wall of his cell. It was rusty and slightly bent, but hell, it was better than nothing. Lithe fingers wrapped around the head of it, pulling hard until it came out, along with a small puff of dust. He tried to keep from coughing as he brought the small nail into his grasp, staring down at the thing with furrowed brows before shoving it into his pants pocket.

Who knows, could come in handy if I get desperate enough…

The sniper wracked his fuzzied brain, willing the throbbing to ease so he could come up with some proper kinda plan, any sort of plan. His consciousness ached in more ways than one as a spear of regret stabbed through him. He couldn’t believe how idiotic he’d been. Letting Sole come in here alone? Waiting so long to return to them? Damn, it wasn’t the first time his pride had screwed him over, but for it to have put Sole into this situation, to make them go through all this pain, because of his stupidity?

I can’t be responsible for another death, can’t sit by and watch as, as… 

He shook his head firmly, eyes closed tight as though that could stop him from seeing the horrendous potential future of his life without Sole. 

I can’t do that shit again. Not again. 

“A few days without food outta loosen their hand, eh boss?” The remaining raider asked. Zeller tutted his tongue, shaking his head as he looked up at his one remaining henchman. 

“Nah, this one’s stubborn. Gonna take more than that... Say, why don’t ya hand me those pliers over there?” 

MacCready’s eyes widened as he felt his stomach churn inside him.

“Don’t you freaking touch them!” He snarled through the rusted bars of his cell, “Take me, damn it! They’re not thinking clearly. Let me do it instead! I’ll sign whatever the hell you want!” 

His hands gripped the bars tightly, knuckles turning bone-white as his nails dug painfully into the rusting metal. 

“Aw, dammit, that one’s awake again. Look, kid, you’d better keep your fucking mouth shut, or ole’ Knifepoint here’s gonna have to put you out again.” MacCready stared in horror as he saw the leader reach back, the other raider handing him a pair of rusty pliers as Sole’s chair began to shake in their effort to get away from him. 

“You’ll get your turn, sniper, don’t you worry. Fer now though…” 

“Sole, s-stay calm, okay? We’ll get out of this.” MacCready tried to keep his voice steady, even as he felt a desperate sob rising in his throat. “We will, just hold on for me.”

“Go an’ shut him up, will ya? I’m trying to work here.” 

Zeller’s cruel eyes turned back to Sole as the other raider stomped towards MacCready’s cell, and he quickly backed away from the bars, clamping his mouth shut while silently willing Sole to be strong. 

They’ve always been so damn strong… 

He couldn’t believe the person they still were, not after all they’d been through. MacCready doesn’t say it enough, but since the beginning, he’s been impressed by them, in awe of them. Sole’s kindness, their selflessness, how much they can still care… After everything he’d lost, MacCready was none of those things. Even now, when he was sure he’d do anything for Sole, his pride and stupidity, his selfishness was what got them into this whole mess, and he knew, if they didn’t get out of it, he’d never be able to forgive himself. He’d already fucking shot them. Sure it’d be a miracle if they got out of this, but even more, he’d be lucky as hell if Sole ever wanted to see him again after this was all over. 

He knows he wouldn’t. 

But we have to at least get out of this. I can’t let them fall because of me. I can’t fail, can’t leave Duncan… 

MacCready flexed his fingers and toes in frustration, his whole body clenching with rage as he saw the way Zeller tore haphazardly at Sole’s restraints and harshly grabbed their right hand. A grunt of pain escaped his partner as the cruel asshole tugged at their injured arm, his metal grip crushing their hand between his fingers as he brought the pliers up towards their index finger. 

“We’ll start out easy. These grow back better than teeth do, that’s for sure.” 

With that, Zeller clamped the pliers down on their first fingernail, and tugged. 

Sole’s scream rattled MacCready’s bones, and he tasted blood on his tongue as the pressure of his teeth split his lip. 

“There,” Zeller growled. “One down. You just let me know when you’re good and ready to sign that contract, else I’ll just keep on goin’.” 

Silence followed as his cold eyes flitted to Sole’s, and MacCready longed to see their face, wished they could see him, that he could give them some comfort. As furious as they should be with him, he wanted his partner to know they weren’t alone, that he would get them out of this, no matter what it took. 

“No? Nothing to say? Alright, fine by me.” Another scream through gritted teeth tore through MacCready’s ears, and he felt hot tears rising to the waterline of his widened eyes, bloodshot and clouded with anger. The tears stung as they cascaded down his cheeks, his eyes unable to leave the sight of Sole’s bloodied fingers as he took a step forward, wishing with everything he had that it was him in that chair instead of the one he loved. 

He sucked in a breath as his foot landed, picking it up again swiftly, as he felt something stab into his foot. 

What the–?

Holy shit. 

He’d almost forgotten about it completely, and now he was glad as hell that they’d only taken his boots and not his socks. Bobby pins. Three of them, he always kept them in his sock. He’d never had to use the damn things before, he spent more time grumbling about the way they sometimes stabbed him than thinking they were ever really gonna come in handy, but now… He wished he could buy his past self a drink and give him a hearty slap on the back. 

Just hold on, baby. 

After almost an hour, Sole’s screams had died to throaty whimpers. The raider leader had gone through every one of their fingers before throwing the bloodied pliers to the side. Now he stood before their shaking body, a grimy rag wiping off the reddened metal of his gloves before he brought the square of fabric down to rub over Sole’s wounds cruelly. 

The bastard laughed as they tensed at his harsh touch. 

I’m gonna kill him in the worst freaking way, MaCready vowed. 

His body felt hot and feverish, the rage swelling deep within him, boiling his blood and setting his mind ablaze with cruel thoughts of his own. He imagined shoving those pliers down Zeller’s throat, shooting out both his kneecaps, or bringing the butt of his combat knife down over each of his bare knuckles, just hurting him. Hurting the bastard so bad that he couldn’t speak in that sinister growling voice, couldn’t smile his haunting smile, couldn’t do anything but whimper and sob, and then die. Die, leave this place, die and leave Sole in peace, die and never have the opportunity to be this cruel to anyone again. 

Still, even after all this, Sole remained as strong as they could. Still, they refused the contract, still they spat in Zeller’s face when he got too close, and he didn’t have to see their face to know their expression. That stubborn look, the look as sharp as the nails upon a Deathclaw’s freakish hand, the one that burned brighter than a molten forge, that promised resilience and defiance. God, he loved to hate that look when it was aimed at him. But this shithead? The asshole in front of him? He deserved every violent liberty Sole could ever take against another human being, and every cruelty MacCready could imagine. If running with the Gunners taught him anything at all, it was how to make people suffer, how to be a monster. He always tried to avoid becoming like them, but this asshole deserved to be the exception. 

MacCready waited. He hated it, more than he hated dust and raiders and even feral ghouls, he hated sitting by and watching as Zeller toyed with his companion, as he tore them apart and held back just enough to keep them conscious. Finally though, when the sun’s orange glow had receded from the windows, when the bluish hue of the moon washed over his love’s sweat-slicked skin, Zeller decided he’d had enough for the day. 

“Help me throw ‘em in the other cell, then you take first watch.” 

Sole had held on for so long. Hours they’d sat and taken Zeller’s abuse, and finally it was enough to render them unconscious. The two raiders undid Sole’s ties, hauling them from the chair and letting their body drag over the hard floorboards before tossing them carelessly into the open cell across from him. 

He could hardly even see them, as the cell door slammed shut, shadowed as they were in the corner of the room. MacCready’s eyes followed Zeller as he strolled past his cell, as though the cruelties he’d inflicted upon MacCready’s partner were less than nothing to him, as though he’d spent his day farming tatos or counting caps. It made MacCready’s gut churn. 

Bastard. 

--

Waiting. Waiting was what he had to do now. MacCready had to find an opportunity to pick his lock, and now that Sole was in another cell, he needed to be sure he at least had one pin left to get them out, too in case the raiders did something with their cell key before he could kill them both. 

His eyelids were heavy as he sat near to his gate, half acting like he was so close to the bars only to be able to catch a glimpse of Sole. It was partly true, he was desperate to see them, but also, he just needed to be close to the lock. It was going to be tough too. MacCready wasn’t the best locksmith there was, Sole had proved to him a hundred times or more that they were better at it than he was, but with their fingers the way they were, their injuries… It really was up to him. Even if he was a master locksmith though, it’d still be hard. The lock was only on the outside, meaning he’d have to cram his hand out through the bars, reach around, and try to pick it blind. 

But it has to work. There’s no other way. I’ve run out of options, and I can’t let Sole go through one more moment of this hell. 

He was nearly asleep by the time his opportunity came. The guard sighed in frustration as she tried to light the cigarette between her teeth, the flame refusing to catch as her lighter ran out of oil. MacCready closed his eyes quickly as her gaze swept over him, feigning sleep as he leaned against the side of the cell. There was a moment of silence, and then a creak as she stepped away to find another lighter. 

MacCready shot up, barely sacrificing time for a glance in the raider’s direction as he pulled a bobby pin from his sock. He shoved his hand through the bars, sticking the pin, along with the nail he’d found, into the lock. The nail was no screwdriver, but it would hold tension all the same. At least, he hoped it would. 

He listened intently as he fiddled with the lock, hoping to whatever god there was that he would hear the telltale click before the guard returned. 

A noise sounded from the room over, some boxes or furniture being shoved around, and his pace quickened. In his desperation, the first pin broke, and despite himself, MacCready cursed under his breath. He pulled the second pin out as quickly as he could, shoving it into the lock and turning to where he felt the least amount of pressure. 

I’m close. He thought, sticking out his tongue in concentration. 

Footsteps sounded nearby, and the distinct smell of cigarette smoke told him he was out of time. 

But I’m so damn close. 

He decided to risk it, fiddling more with the lock, trying to keep his movement from becoming too jerky. If he broke this pin, he’d damn near be out of options. 

“Come on.” He whispered, and the raider appeared in his peripheral vision. 

The lock clicked, and MacCready’s heart soared. He pushed the nail in harder, shoving it the rest of the way, until he felt the gate jump slightly and finally pop open. 

He sighed hard, relief washing over him prematurely as the raider’s gaze fell to the sound. She was only a few feet away now, her cigarette butt crushed under her boot as it fell to the floor, and she rushed towards him. MacCready pushed open the gate, moving towards the raider quickly, trying to reach her before she could pull her pistol from its holster. 

He got to her just in time. The raider opened her mouth, sucking in air and ready to warn her leader, even as her fingers grasped the handle of her gun, but MacCready was faster. The mercenary had lost his fair share of fist fights, but he prided himself on being pretty damn scrappy, and now was no exception. With the collective built-up fury that’d been boiling deep inside him for hours, MacCready landed a right hook to the woman’s jaw. A loud pop sounded, and he felt his knuckles crack as he made contact, but he refused to let up. MacCready swung again, this time a little sloppily, with his left hand, catching the raider in the temple and sending her reeling the other direction. In an almost automatic action, his knee came up next, catching her in the groin and then again in the stomach, and his sore hand tore the pistol from her grasp, backhanding her temple with the butt of the handle. 

She crumpled to the floor without so much as a shout, and MacCready barely even paused before dragging her unconscious form into the empty cell beside his. He slammed the gate shut, and pulled to ensure it was locked before making his way to the back. 

He had to help Sole, and he wanted nothing more than to break open their cage and pull them into his arms, to apologize to them, to tell them everything will be alright, but he couldn’t. Not until Judge Zeller was dealt with. 

He took quiet steps towards the next room, holding the raider’s pistol at the ready and hoping beyond hope that the damn man was still asleep. MacCready peeked around the corner of the room, noting a small area at the other end that was shielded by a makeshift wall. 

Bet that’s where his bed is. 

Creeping forward slowly, MacCready held his breath with each step, willing the creaky floorboards not to give him away. 

Almost there. The nightmare is almost over. 

He gulped as he finally pressed his back against the makeshift wall, took a breath, and then peered around it. As soon as his eyes made out the empty mattress, MacCready felt a blinding pain in his nose as the crack of a shotgun butt jammed into his face. He barked in pain, jerking his head away as the loud bang of the gun firing went off beside his ear. 

It’s a double barrel, his addled mind reminded him. One more and he’ll have to reload. 

Chancing an injury, MacCready thrust his hand around the corner of the thin wall, but Zeller didn’t take the bait. A second shot sounded less than a second before the buckshot ripped a scattering of holes in MacCready’s left arm and side. 

“Shit.” He muttered, barely able to see through the tears, blood and pain surrounding him, but he had to take the shot. He had to. His pistol sounded before he even made his way fully around the corner, catching Zeller in the shoulder as he finally came into MacCready’s sight, and he fired again as the raider struggled to load his shotgun with an injured shoulder. This time, he caught the bastard in the throat, and even as he gave up on the ammunition and raised his gun to catch MacCready with the blunt end of it, blood sputtered from his mouth and ran in thick rivulets from his opened throat. Through the pain, through the blood and tears and relief, MacCready grinned at the raider’s suffering. The enemy’s eyes glazed over in pain, a horrid choking sound spilling from his crimson lips as his shotgun clattered to the floor, one thick hand coming up to grasp at his injury desperately, but they both knew it was no use. 

“Take what you deserve, you sick bastard.” MacCready spat, and shot a hole in the raider’s stomach. 

Zeller crumpled to the floor with a sputtering gasp, twitching as his life slowly and painfully drained away from him. MacCready wouldn’t torture the monster, not like Zeller tortured everyone he met, but he wouldn’t allow him the reprieve of a quick death either. 

Reaching down slowly, MacCready grabbed the shotgun, and tugged the ring of keys away from Zeller’s pocket as the raider’s body twitched in pain. 

MacCready’s side burned, his head was pounding, his nose draining blood like he had an endless supply of the stuff, but he couldn’t give less of a damn when he wrenched Sole’s cell door open. 

“Sun’s not even up yet, really gonna start now?” Sole grumbled, a beautiful stubbornness in their voice, even as they huddled in the fetal position at the back of the cell. 

He tried not to wince at the way they tensed at his touch as he laid a hand on their shoulder. “No.” He whispered, “I’m never gonna let anyone touch you like that, not ever again. You’re safe now, Sole.” 

“Mac?” They twisted quickly, brilliant eyes wide as they adjusted to the sight of him, and MacCready felt more tears burst from his eyes as he took in their battered face, as bloodied and bruised as his own, but it was still their face. Their glorious, lovely face that he couldn’t imagine life without, the face that he loved, against all odds, the face he wanted to wake up seeing every day for the rest of his life, and then some. 

God, he loved them, and he almost fucking lost them. 

“Mac!” Finally they could make him out in the darkness, and concern flashed over their face. “Are you okay? Oh my goodness–” They reached both hands up to grasp at either side of his face, and he couldn’t help but push into their contact, despite the pain of their fingers over his tender skin.  

In the next moment, they flinched away with a gasp, reminded of their own injuries at the end of each of their fingers. Tentatively, MacCready reached both his hands towards them, folding their hands delicately into his own before guiding them to his lips. 

“I’m so sorry, Sole.” He breathed, ghosting the soft skin of his lips over their knuckles in a series of apologetic kisses. “For all this shi– For, just, everything. I left you, even when I knew there was danger, I let you get captured, let you get injured, hell I even freaking shot–”

“It’s not your fault, MacCready.” Sole interrupted him quietly, their eyes holding a hundred sympathies within them as he met their gaze. “I didn’t listen to you, you tried to warn me.” 

“I know, but–”

“MacCready.” Their grip on his hands grew firmer for a moment. “Listen to me. It’s not your fault.” 

A fresh wave of hurt washed over him, and he couldn’t help but shake his head in disagreement, not trusting his voice to hold if he tried to argue with his partner. 

“Do you understand me? It’s not your fault. I need you to know that, I need you to know that I don’t blame you, okay?” 

Sole withdrew their hands from his, opting instead to wrap them carefully around his shoulders, pulling him into their embrace. His arms returned the gesture, trying to avoid their injured shoulder as his fingers clenched desperately to their back and a sob of relief wracked his body. 

“I never blamed you.” They whispered, their lips pressing briefly to the side of his head as they reveled in their closeness to one another.

“I almost lost you.” His voice shook as the realization hit him once again, and despite his pain and their own, he clung tighter to them. 

“You didn’t though.” The palm of their hand stroked softly over the back of his head. “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, okay?”  

He sniffled. 

How the hell can they still want to be with me? How can they not want to ditch me as soon as they can? How can they forgive me? After I got them into this, even if they said I didn’t, we both know–

“Did you hear me, MacCready? I’m staying right here with you, baby, I’m not leaving, okay?” 

He nodded shallowly, still sure that his ears were playing tricks on him, but for once, he was happy to fall for it. 

“Okay.” He whispered, and closed his eyes, breathing slowly as he held Sole close to him, and vowed to never let them go again. 

Nick:

“Let ‘em go, Pick. Your art gallery is full, and they were just trying to help.”

“Oh, and they will help. They really will. Sh sh, don’t look so afraid, my sweet.” He bent down, his dark eyes locking to theirs as a hand ghosted over the side of Sole’s face. “Or do. Your choice, I paint what I see, so you decide on the expression, and I’ll make it the one they all remember.”

“Don’t listen to him, Sole.” Nick said quickly, noting the panic in their eyes as Pickman stood to his full height, and moved behind them. “He’s just trying to shake your nerves. We’ve gotten out of worse binds than this.”

Nick swallowed hard as Sole’s eyes stayed firmly locked on him, avoiding the circling predator as Pickman took in the sight of them. 

How this shit happened, the synth would never know. One moment, the three of them were working together, taking out the gang of raiders that had gone after both them and the homicidal psychopath that was now hungirly prowling around his companion. Nick had thought they could work something out. The man had helped them. He’d stood by their side as raider after raider descended into his lair, speaking politely and clearly as he warned them of a coming attack, or urged them to dodge out of the way as he swung his knife in their direction. They were winning, and Nick was just beginning to think they’d all get out of this unscathed, that maybe the three of them could head back to Diamond City, see about having a trial and putting this perp where he belonged, where he couldn’t hurt anyone any longer, but where he’d be safe for years to come. Maybe they’d even drop off some paint and canvases for him when he was finally behind bars, just for helping them out when they were in need.

They certainly wouldn’t be doing that now. Nick could guarantee that much. His teeth gritted together as Pickman pulled out his knife, and Sole whimpered at the sight of the blade so close to their exposed neck.

He wouldn’t. Nick thought, hope present in every letter of the words as he breathed them through gritted teeth.

Pickman only smiled cheerfully, tapping the flat of the blade against Sole’s cheek as he tutted at them.

“Not to worry yet, m’dear. Only pulling this one out to clean her off. The canvas only calls for one person’s blood. Mixing gets messy.” The man pulled out a pocket square from the inside of his jacket. Nick wasn’t sure if the intended color had been such a dark crimson, or if the silken fabric had been used to wipe his blade so many times that the color had fully permeated the fibers. He’d like to think it was the former of the two, but he wasn’t optimistic.

Why the hell does he need us? Nick tried to work out the perp’s intentions as he slowly swiped the cloth over his blade, humming as he did so. I’ve got nothing to give, no ‘paint’ for his canvas at all. And Sole… Well, he’s got a dozen and a half dead raiders just in the other room, what does he need their blood for?

Even from across the room, Nick noticed how uneven his companion’s breath had become, how their eyes glistened and their brain worked to try and find a way out. He wished he could do more. He wished he could’ve stopped this psychopath well before this. Wished he hadn’t been so sloppy with his handcuffs as he tried to wrestle the man’s hands behind him when he noticed his wild gaze resting on Sole, intending to strike them down even as they wrestled with the raiders out to get him. Nick wished he hadn’t been unbalanced so easily, wished the raider had hit his mark on the homicidal maniac rather than the synth beside him. The bullet wouldn’t kill Nick, hell, it had only phased him for a moment or two when it hit his arm, but it had been long enough for the psychotic scoundrel to lock the synth’s arms in place behind one of the large pipes in his underground lair, with his own damn handcuffs.

Man, Nick felt like a fool. At least Pickman killed the rest of the raiders before they could get to Sole, but even as Nick tried to warn his partner, as he shouted out to grab their attention, his voice echoing off of the brick walls until they finally turned to look at where he was restrained, it had been too late. Pickman took the end of a raider’s pipe rifle to the temple of Sole’s head, downing them before they could even register the sight of the man coming at them.

As Pickman tied Sole to a chair, slowly and intricately, with a smile on his face, as if this was as much of an art in and of itself as the actual act of painting, Nick was trying to convince him to let them go. Pickman didn’t even seem to hear his pleas, or his threats, he only seemed to even notice the synth when he heard him struggling in vain against his handcuffs. Even his skeletal hand couldn’t wriggle its way out from the tightened manacles.

Damn me. Nick cursed.

Why the hell had he had to buy the best cuffs in the business? He knew they wouldn’t budge easily, if at all. He’d been sure of that when he bought them. He thought that fact would make him safer, not practically ensure the demise of the one person he loved, and who loved him.

Something ached deep in his synthetic chest at the thought.

Nick thought he’d been happy before them. What with living contentedly in Diamond City, with the agency, and Ellie, the occasional visit from Dogmeat, the kids trailing behind him, asking question after pesky question as he tried to get a lead on a case. That was as happy as he’d been in a long time, but damn… All that was nothing compared to how he felt now. He’d never loved anyone before, sure, he’d liked a lotta folks, and the old Nick sure had loved Jennifer, and had given the synth Nick a hint of what that feeling was that everyone always sang about, but what he had with Sole had been entirely different. It wasn’t a hollow ache, or a longing, like with Jennifer; with them, it was a burning need, a living fondness, an effortless joy that he felt deep within himself, in a place he’d never known existed prior to their place in his life. Nothing and no one had made Nick feel so incredibly alive as Sole did, and now, they were going to die because of him. The frustration and anger at the thought rose up in him, boiling his coolant and making the whir in his head rattle off the walls of his synthetic skull.

Not if I have anything to say about it. He vowed. He couldn’t just sit by anymore, he’d tried talking, he’d tried struggling, what else was there? Nick’s glowing gaze wracked the ground and walls around him, searching for anything that could be of use. 

If only I could detach my arms. He thought, shaking his head and clenching his jaw.

The buzzing in his chest went into overdrive as Pickman circled around, the sharp blade glistening in his hand, now clean as could be.

“Much prettier now, don’t you think?” He thrust the blade into Sole’s face, and they tried to recoil as best they could within their restraints. Faintly, Nick heard them pleading with the man before them, tears spilling over their cheeks as their mouth moved desperately, hasty whispers passing through their trembling lips as they begged Pickman for their life.

“Ah ah, come now. Shhh. It will be alright, darling.” Nick heard him say, and the synth’s body jerked unwittingly as Pickman’s blade pressed against his love’s soft cheek, the honed edge collecting the stream of tears draining from their desperate eyes. “This face surely isn’t the one that you want to be remembered by, is it now? You know the answer. Come on, sweetheart, say it with me.” He brought his other hand up to their face, grasping their jaw between his scarlet-stained fingers and moved their head from side to side.

“Noooooooo.” He drew out the word mockingly, and Sole’s body wracked in an unwilling sob as his motion drove the blade deeper into their cheek. “That’s right.” 

“Enough, Pickman!” Nick roared, his voice rasping with desperation, “Leave ‘em alone. We helped you. You let us go, let them go, and I swear, you’ll never be bothered again. Synth’s honor.” Thankfully, Pickman released Sole from his grasp, pulling the knife from their cheek, leaving a thin, red line where it had punctured them as he turned to face Nick.

Even from this distance, Nick could see the way his ghostly eyes gleamed with insanity.

“How right you are.” He said, his voice coming out uncharacteristically monotone, as if he was truly upset about Nick’s accusatory tone. Pickman was plenty of things, but impolite was not one of them. “You have my thanks, my dear. But you know that already, don’t you?” He turned back to Sole then, his face leaning in close to theirs, and he whispered something inaudible from Nick’s place on the other side of the cavern, but Sole’s sobs redoubled as he pulled away with a grin. As painfully artistic with his words as he was with the carnal paint for his canvas, the madman began waxing poetic about all of the possibilities for his next work of art, and Nick’s efforts to find a way out hastened.

I’m running out of time.

Pickman’s painfully proper tone of voice droned on as Nick struggled once more, his yellow eyes darting to the weapons scattered throughout the room. All were too far to reach with his legs, to pull closer to him; and even if he managed to escape his cuffs, Pickman could surely dispatch Sole before he had a chance to cock the weapon, take aim, and fire.

This psychopath's got us in a real pickle, hasn’t he?

The synth tried to keep his mind focused on the present, but he couldn’t help but grit his teeth at the bout of merciless hindsight that seemed to punch him in the gut and wrench out his coolant pump. Sole is too good, and they had me believing others could be that way too. There’s a reason criminals don’t get a second chance out here, a reason why most shoot first, and talk never. It’s a good way to get yourself killed. Get the people you love killed. Get into rotten situations like this one.

Damn me, I should know better than this.

Nick felt an uneasy tremble crawling up his spine as the talker across the room went silent, and his synthetic arms struggled all the more as his need for haste became ever more apparent. He froze at the sound of a click behind him.

The cuffs? Nick thought desperately.

He pulled in earnest at the metal, hoping beyond hope that they were somehow faulty, that he was somehow stronger than them, but as he continued to struggle, they still refused to give way.

Goddammit. Then what the hell was that noise?

Sole’s scream of pain pulled him from his thoughts, and yanked at his gaze from where it rested over the back of his shoulder. Now Nick’s head jerked to face his partner ahead of him, to the place on their arm, where a stream of dark liquid ran from the crook of their elbow, down through their fingers, and onto the canvas Pickman had placed below it.

The madman tutted at them as he pulled the knife away from their flesh with a theatrical flourish.

“Now, darling, we’ve only just begun. Just gotten the canvas wet, is all.” He leaned in close to their face, his breath stirring a stray hair curtaining their eyes. “You don’t intend to keep this up all the while, do you? It’s hardly polite. I’m trying to work.”

With that, the man aimed his knife down at Sole’s leg, his long fingers pulling at the fabric of their trousers as he began to saw through the material. A large square of fabric was pulled from them as their breathing picked up, and Nick’s eyes narrowed. 

Would he really be one to staunch Sole’s blood flow? Surely not…

And he was right. 

Pickman balled the chunk of fabric up in his fist as he moved his face close to Sole’s. 

“Not good for concentration. The noise, I mean.” With that, Pickman shoved the bunched bit of fabric between their lips, silencing them. He reached for his canvas again, examining the work there, before moving it below Sole’s other arm.

“This is in case you’re a lefty, darling. Want all of our bases covered, don’t we?”

Sole tried to shout something at him, likely a phrase containing profanity, but their crude gag muffled their desperate noise. With the irritating sound now at a more manageable volume, Pickman continued his work, digging his blade deep into their arm, just above their wrist, just above the artery.

Nick swallowed hard, and his hands were trembling as he witnessed the way theirs grew limp beneath their red veneer. Through the trembling, he felt his good hand ghost over the screw of his bad one, and Nick’s eyes widened.

That pesky old thing. Always having to stop to tighten it, so I don’t go and lose everything below my wrist. Sole said I should find a more permanent solution than the worn screwdriver in my pocket. Now though… Now Nick was grateful beyond words that he hadn’t changed a thing about his faulty limb.

“Hold on, Sole. Just hold on.” He mumbled as his fingers moved feverishly over the loosened screw, twisting and feeling as it became more and more unstable.

Pickman dragged his blade away again, once he deemed the canvas saturated enough. 

Christ, it made Nick want to gag; the way it looked, the way Sole’s skin had paled, their eyes grew weary, their muffled screams died down to nothing but whimpers as their blood continued to flow.

“I’ve perfected the ratio over the years.” Pickman told them, holding up the canvas for Sole to see. They looked like they were going to be sick, and Nick wouldn’t blame them if they were.

This goon certainly is. One of the sickest I’ve seen. And that’s saying something.

“Yours ran quickly. Probably the adrenaline. But no matter, now we can get to the main event.” A cruel smile was still tugging oddly at the sides of his lips as he turned to face Nick, and the synth stilled his struggling, trying his hardest to look defeated as the madman fixed him with his wild eyes.

“You’ve got quite the privilege here, mister Valentine. My artistic process is traditionally a mystery to all but me and my muses, but you… What ever am I going to do with you? I doubt you’ll appreciate my work when it is finished, else I would ask your opinion. I do so crave constructive criticism.”

“You want my opinion? Start using paint, ya loon. Oh, and how about you quit betraying the people who are just trying to help you. Or else, I think this little artistic endeavor of yours is gonna get you killed one day. Maybe sooner than you think.”

The screw slid out of its tunnel in his wrist, and Nick cleared his throat as the small piece of metal hit the floor. He pulled, and his hand loosened.

Trying not to grit his teeth at the pain of it, he gave another tug, working to dislodge his skeletal hand entirely, but the wires kept it tethered to him, and the cuffs stayed firmly in place.

Damn it.

Pickman was oblivious to the synth's efforts, but the artist's grin persisted as he shrugged.

“Perhaps. When that day does come, though, I will have left behind a legacy. An artist never dies, not so long as their work remains.” The mad bastard winked at Nick, before turning back to Sole, their eyes widening as he flicked his knife at them once more.

“It’s never enough, you see?” Pickman continued, his voice echoing off the bricks behind Sole’s chair. “We have to start with something on the canvas, even if it is a bit messy.” He circled behind them, his lips set in a comical pout as he spoke down to Nick’s companion.

“Or else the image doesn’t set quite right. You understand?” The same hand that held the knife went up to grasp at Sole’s head, forcing them to nod, and they released a whimper, their chest shaking under their rapid, shuddering breaths.

“See? Of course you understand. You’re a clever one. That’s what I’ve always heard.”

Nick’s arms strained where they were attached behind the pipe, his skeletal hand barely clinging on, as the blinding pain told his mind that he was desperately in need of repairs. He tugged, and another wire severed at the force against the strong metal of the handcuffs.

“Now, darling, smile for me.” Pickman’s knife dipped down to the front of Sole’s face, and their wide eyes followed the glinting blade as the point lodged into the apple of their cheek, and they screamed. Even through the rag, Nick could feel the noise rattle every one of his circuits.

Now. I have to go now.

The synth closed his eyes, grit his teeth together, and he pulled. With his own growl, he wrenched his skeletal hand clean off, severing every wire in the wake of his desperate power.

Pickman was too preoccupied to notice his prisoner’s freedom at first, as he pressed the canvas to Sole’s face, smearing their own blood against them, attempting to capture their likeness in the most horrific way.

Nick moved quickly, but quietly as he could, stooping low to grasp at a revolver that had clattered to the floor. He considered the weight.

Loaded. Good.

Now he moved rapidly, cripplingly afraid his luck would somehow run out, now that he was so damn close to saving them. He stepped beside the pair, his love and the psychopath, his revolver pointed to Pickman’s chest, pointed where a bullet rightfully belonged, pointed home.

“Look at that.” Nick heard himself say as he cocked the gun loudly from his place beside the madman. 

“Sooner. Than. You. Think.” He leaned close to Pickman as he pulled the trigger, not taking his eyes from the man until he saw the light leave them, until he fell to the ground, and into a dramatic splatter of his own carnal paint. 

Call it artistic justice, I suppose. 

The knife had fallen from his hand, and into Sole’s lap, and Nick dropped the revolver, picking the blade up quickly as they let out a muffled sob below him. He pulled the fabric from Sole’s mouth, and they sucked in a breath, eyes wide, body still trembling, as their blood dripped down their face. They were pale, their hands shook as Nick undid those bonds as well, each swift cut of the knife that had assaulted them bringing them closer to freedom.

When he finally had them free, Nick turned his eyes to meet theirs, opening his mouth to speak, but Sole’s gasp cut him off. 

“Oh, Nick…” They whispered as they reached for his injured wrist with bloodied hands. “Are you alright?” 

Nick nearly choked at that, his throat felt like it was seizing up as he reached his good hand out to caress the unmarred side of their face. 

“Sole, you’re just too damn good, you know that?” He smiled at them, the relief evident in his shining eyes. “I’m fine, more than fine. Ya know why?”

They bit their lip, tears leaving glistening tracks down their perfect cheeks as they looked into his eyes.

“Because of you, because you’re alright. If you weren’t… I wouldn’t know what to do, love.”

“But I am.” They said, their voice strained, “You don’t have to worry.” 

Nick could tell they were trying to make light of it, with the way they smiled and tried to keep their voice steady. But their hands were still on him, still clasping at his handless wrist, and they were shaking, even as their lower lip began to tremble. 

Nick’s good arm wrapped around them, pulling them from that wretched chair, and down against him where he knelt on the floor, and he felt them collapse into him, arms flying up to grasp around his neck. 

“Shit, Nick, I was so scared.” Their sob came from beside his ear as he held them tight. 

“I know darling, I know. I was too.” He said quietly, his face flinching as he felt their body tense at the word darling. A word that had been his to call them, one that had meant affection, and devotion, and trust, and companionship, but now was something that he had called them. That Pickman had used in that sickeningly polite tone of his, and Nick fumed at the thought of that psychopath taking it away from him. At almost taking Sole away from him. 

Nick didn’t have it too bad, not really. He knew that. He had a great job, a couple of close friends, a good secretary, and people weren’t nearly as ruthless to him as they could be, but now… He had it better than he ever thought he could, than he felt he had any right to. All because of Sole. They were too good, too kind, too selfless, and damn it, he loved them for it. 

And they loved him. 

He could never get over that, the way they said it to him, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like it was so easy for them to love someone like him. He couldn’t imagine that that was the truth. 

Nick squeezed Sole tighter as he felt a few more sobs wrack their body. 

“But hey,” he said finally, as he felt their breaths grow more deep, more controlled, “Can’t take us down that easy, can they?” He pulled away from them as they nodded, a weak smile forming on their lips, and wrenched the bottom of his trench coat up over his lap, where he could pull a strip of fabric off to tie around their wounded arm and wrist. 

He couldn’t do it himself with only the one hand, but Sole offered theirs to help him situate the strips of fabric over their first wound. They fixed up the other together, and he pulled one last strip off to dab gently at the cut on their face. 

“There.” He whispered as he pulled the cloth away, their cheek was still red and puffy, the cut still open and angry, but the blood was all gone. As long as they didn’t look at the floor or the canvas, the blood was gone. 

“How bad is it?” They asked, one hand reaching up to delicately touch the gash on their cheek. 

“Oh, it’s not so bad, sweetheart. It’ll heal up just fine. Just wait and see.” He leaned forward, slowly, and softly as a breath, he let his lips graze over their cheek, just above the wound. Their hands grasped his face, and they returned the gesture, with their lips upon his. 

He grinned as they pulled away, never so thankful to feel someone’s breath fan over his face, and Nick got lost for a moment. Lost in his partner’s eyes, the way they still held a light to them he’d never seen in anyone else, to the way their lips curled in a grin, even as they just began to regain the color in their skin, and the way their heartbeat thudded through their fingertips where they rested on either side of his marred neck. They were the essence of everything he valued in this life of his, if you could call it that. With Sole by his side, he’s not sure how he could refer to his existence as anything else. 

“Not quite sure about this one though.” He said with a persisting smile, holding up his skeletal wrist before them, “Think it’ll heal up?” 

Preston:

Preston’s head swam. He brought a hand up to rub at his face, feeling a deep heat permeate his body from the air surrounding him. His heartbeat pulsed in his ears, and an uncomfortable wetness coated his skin as his hand moved up to a sore spot near his temple. There was a crustiness to the area surrounding the wound, and Preston wondered briefly how long he had been out. 

What happened to me? 

He brought both hands to the soil beneath him, pushing himself up into a seated position. The source of the heat made itself known to him as he lifted his gaze to the large bonfire to his left. A tall, dark building swam into view through the smoke, the walls lit only by the flames licking at the starry sky. 

Right. Saugus Ironworks… 

It all began coming back to him. 

Finch farm, they’d still been having trouble with the Forged, even after Jake left their ranks. They’d needed help, needed the Minutemen. 

Preston had been almost giddy when the mission provided an excuse for him and Sole to go in together. It’d been ages since the pair had had the opportunity to work side by side, and he’d thought it would be easy…

How could it have gone this wrong? With Sole by my side, it feels like anything is possible, no mission too harrowing, no task undoable. How am I here now, lying in the dirt, without Sole? 

Panic rose in his chest, sending shockwaves through his muscles and forcing them to move.

I have to find them. 

Preston pushed himself up to a standing position, sucking in a breath as he felt a stab of pain in his side. His leg nearly crumpled on the first step forward, and his arms ached as he brought his laser musket to his chest, but the minuteman gritted his teeth and continued towards the steel building ahead of him. 

He peered through the window and into the room where the entrance to the factory lay, blinking as he noticed his own reflection looking back at him. His clothes were tattered, singed black in places, smoking in others, stained scarlet. His hat was gone, his scarf in tatters, and his head wound was thickly crusted over with his own blood. 

No wonder they left me for dead. I sure look it. 

But he wouldn’t let that stop him. 

It was coming back to the Lieutenant now. All those raiders, the way he and Sole had maneuvered around the breath of their flamers, a dangerous dance as they seamlessly worked together to down the horde surrounding them before the pair of them could be burned alive. 

They’d gotten through most of the raiders, too, until the guy in the power armor showed up. Preston hadn’t even seen him at first. The man had been on the roof, and even as he started raining down grenades on him and Sole, they couldn’t find a clear shot. 

It was fuzzy in his mind, but Preston remembered frantically pushing his partner out of the way. 

He’d never recalled moving quite so fast in his life, never thought he could be so rough with the one he loved, but he had to get them out of the way. Preston hadn’t even given a thought as to what would happen after the fact, it was just an instinct, there hadn’t been any thought involved at all, no plan, no fear for his own well-being. 

He hoped it was enough.

I just hope they’re still alive. Damn me. 

That was all he remembered. After that… Just blackness. 

I guess I should feel lucky to be alive… 

But he couldn’t feel anything apart from his own distress at the thought of losing his partner, his best friend, his General, his love. It was unthinkable to him. Sole was… they were unkillable, indestructible, they could make it through anything with their unwavering determination, their heavy guns, and that reassuring smile that’d saved Preston’s life more times than he cared to count. They were perfect, and if he lost them…

No. I can’t. 

With that, Preston’s energy surged, propelling him forward, into the steel building, and up to the entrance to the factory. His grip tightened on his musket as he stepped inside, trying to keep his footsteps light as he entered the large room. He kept his eyes peeled for the enemies he expected to be surged by, but the building was as quiet as the outside had been. 

Preston’s brows furrowed as he peered around the room, his footsteps quickening with each moment he spent in silence, each moment that the chaos he was sure would come never appeared. 

“Where are you, General?” He said under his breath as he entered the next room. 

Someone should be here by now. Some guard, some sign of The Forged, of Sole, of a struggle, of some corpse, even. 

Preston shuddered as an unspeakable image thrust itself into his mind.

“Please don’t–” He stopped himself from speaking his plea aloud, afraid some force might hear it and seek to make his worst fear a reality. 

If you’re gonna take them, you should’ve taken me first. Don’t let me be the one to find them. 

Preston’s steps quickened to a run, and his once hesitant movement grew frantic as he slammed the metal doors open, as he looked through each room rapidly, his attentions focused on one sight and one only. Even if some of The Forged had decided to appear, he’s not sure he would’ve noticed. 

Sole is the only thing that matters. The only sight I need. I just need to see them again, to hold them, to hear their voice. Then, then we can make it through anything.

How could we have been so wrong about this mission? 

Sole was the most capable person he knew, the most trustworthy, the most dependable, and he promised from the moment he met them that he would never let them down. How could he have miscalculated this so badly? He should’ve known. 

Known about the numbers, known about the firepower, known how they use their location to their advantage. They’d been through this before, dammit, and The Forged hadn’t been half as prepared, he was certain that it would be that way again, unless… Unless they’d planned this. 

Preston swallowed hard, waving the unhelpful thought from his mind for the time being. 

That’s not a priority now. I don’t care why they were so prepared for our attack, I don’t care about how they knew we were coming, about who was coming, I just need to find Sole. 

Preston wasn’t subtle. Gas canisters were tripped over in his rising haste, oil cans and wrenches knocked from shelves as he slammed the heavy doors against the steel walls. Sweat drained down his haggard, injured body, salting his wounds and making his head pound with dehydration, and yet, Preston’s thoughts were only comprised of Sole. Finally, he reached the end of the factory. The final room. 

Preston didn’t know if he could do it. 

Once he barged through that last pair of doors, that would be it. What if Sole wasn’t there? Where would he go? He’d have to look for them, he couldn't… He couldn’t ever leave them, couldn’t let them fade away, couldn’t go on with his life if he didn’t at least try. But could he really face losing them? What if they were in that next room? What if they were there, but they were… 

No. I have to do this. Sole is strong. They’re the strongest person I know. They can’t be gone. Not after everything they’ve lived through. 

Before the minuteman could change his mind, he stepped forward, his footsteps hesitant but firm as he slowly pushed one door open. 

A blinding wave of heat hit his face as Preston entered, accompanied by the white light of the still-burning forge. There wasn’t chaos, as he half expected, and there wasn’t the silence and stillness that he had feared, that every other room has greeted him with thus far. No, there were three raiders standing ahead of him, all with their backs to the doors he’d come through, all facing one centerpiece in the room, the one kneeling just before the forge. 

Sole. 

They were on their knees, their eyes tired as the light of the nearby flames danced over the sheen of their glossy, raw flesh. The skin of their arm and shoulder was a mosaic, shades of red, white and brown, angry blisters littering the tortured skin as their eyes glazed over with pain. Though they were facing him, Sole hadn’t noticed Preston’s arrival, and he very nearly blew his own cover in his haste to get to them, as one of the Forged took a step towards their downed body. 

Sole whimpered as the power armor-clad leader looked down on them, shifting to kneel awkwardly so he could force their gaze to meet his with a steel-gloved hand. 

“I’m gonna ask you one last time. If you can’t give us an honest answer, then we’re throwing you into the forge, ya hear?” 

Sole’s jaw clenched and they tore their injured face from his grasp. The Forged leader scoffed, thrusting his armored hand forward and catching the burned side of Sole’s jaw as he smacked them hard. 

Preston flinched and ground his teeth together at the sound of Sole’s shriek. Desperately, he cranked his laser musket, releasing a shaky breath as he forced himself to remain in the shadows for the time being, until he could formulate a plan. 

But how could he focus on anything but Sole? How could he do anything but rush to their side, how could he sit by, out of sight, and let them suffer alone. For all Sole knew, Preston could be dead, and yet still, their gorgeous eyes flashed with defiance as they fixed the Forged leader with a glare. 

God, I love them so much. 

Preston cranked again, thankful for the loud crackle of the forge as it masked his weapon preparation and heavy breathing.  

“Who fucking sent you?” The leader growled, punctuating each word with a flex of his fingers as he held firm to the singed flesh of Sole’s jaw, further burying the sharp material into their face. 

All except Sole’s eyes looked utterly defeated. Their body was matted with sweat and blood. Long, angry burn marks ran up their arm, their shoulder, neck and jaw, blisters littered their flesh, and fresh streams of scarlet began to flow from the new lacerations on their face. But still, they only shook their head, and refused to answer. 

They would never put the Finches in danger. Even if it cost them their life. 

This was why he loved them. Why he had to save them. Even if it cost him his own life.

Preston cranked his laser musket yet again. 

A plan slowly formed in his fatigued mind, and his dark eyes flitted from side to side, sizing up the enemies before him. He took aim at the back of the leader’s unarmored head, prepared to crank the musket one final time before letting the crimson beam fly. 

While his gaze honed to a focused point on the leader, another raider stepped into his peripheral vision, and Preston’s finger froze on the trigger. The raider stepped close to Sole, something large and steaming within his hands and just out of Preston's sight.

"Don't wanna talk? That's just fine, then."

The leader nodded his head to the man beside him, and a concrete mug came into Preston’s view as the raider raised it high above the General’s already ravaged arm, and poured molten steel down over their shoulder. 

Preston fired his musket before their shriek of agony could drown out the roar of the forge. 

His own cry of rage spilled from his throat as his beam landed, singeing the leader’s head and nearly toppling him in the process. The leader tried to steady himself, and pulled his hand away from Sole’s jaw as he tipped to the side, knocking over the man with the concrete mug in his hands. 

The raider cried out as the remaining contents of his torture device spilled onto his own skin, and Preston rushed forward, slamming a bloodied shoulder into the only raider that remained on her feet. She cursed at him as he cranked his musket and let another beam fly into her exposed abdomen. Out of the corner of his eye, Preston could see Sole collapse onto their side, the pain from their burns sending them hurling unwillingly into unconsciousness. He brought the end of his musket down on the head of the raider beside him as the leader righted himself, holding one hand up to his wounded scalp as he rounded to face Preston. 

The female raider was out cold, the man was writhing on the ground, trying to kill the pain that stemmed from his burns, and the leader started forward, one metal-clad fist landing on Preston’s jaw as the minuteman cranked his weapon once more. He felt his teeth crack under the contact, and the flesh of his jaw tear as the rough metal met his skin.

Tears sprung to his eyes, but he took aim anyway, bashing the barrel of his musket against the leader’s exposed face, before cranking again, and letting loose a beam aimed straight at the raider’s bloodied nose. 

The leader collapsed at Preston’s feet, the metal ground shuddering as his heavy, power armor-clad form toppled to the floor. 

Preston was breathing hard, sweat pouring from his battered body, fresh blood streaming down the side of his quickly bruising face. Steam rose from his red-tinged spit as he expelled a ruined tooth from his mouth, and he loaded another fusion cell into his weapon to take out the last raider, the one still rolling in agony on the grated floor. 

If the few droplets of molten fire he spilled on himself are causing this kind of suffering, how the hell is Sole even still alive? 

He felt his heart leap into his throat at the realization, at the stillness of his partner below.

As soon as the last one was dealt with, Preston fell to his knees by Sole’s side, feeling along the uninjured side of their jaw desperately for a pulse, and sighing deeply in relief as he felt their weak heartbeat pound against his fingertips. 

“Thank you.” He choked out, unsure if it was aimed at some deity of fate, or just at Sole for being able to hold on for as long as they did. 

They really are the strongest person I’ve ever met. 

He tried not to let the guilt hit him as he brought an arm around the side of them that wasn’t ravaged with burns, tried not to think about how much pain they were in, how long it would take them to recover, how these scars would remain etched into their once-perfect skin for the remainder of their lifetime. 

How it was all his fault. 

"I'm so sorry Sole." He whispered to their unconscious form, pulling them up into his arms as his lips pressed to their burning forehead. "I never should've let this happen."

He stood on trembling legs, stepping carefully around the downed raiders as he moved towards the exit.

"I'll make it better though." He promised, grunting at the pain in his limbs as the pair drew closer to their freedom. "I swear, Sole. I'll make this better."

Preston kept his mind focused on one thought all throughout his journey back to Finch farm. He needed to get Sole to safety, needed to get them to some pain medication, needed to take them somewhere they could rest, somewhere he could really apologize, somewhere he could take care of them and remain by their side until they weren’t in pain anymore. No matter how long it took.

His arm burned and his legs ached, his head pounded and he continually spat out more blood, but Preston hardly noticed his own hardships as he limped to the Finches’ homestead, nearly collapsing in his relief as the farmhouse at last came into his sights. 

We made it. 

–

Preston sat by his partner’s side from the chair next to their bed, watching their chest slowly rise and fall. Sole’s injuries were cleaned and bandaged, and Preston’s own bleeding was stopped, his wounds dressed as well. Now, he just waited for them to wake. His eyelids were heavy, and every muscle seemed to ache, but he wouldn’t let them wake up alone, he couldn't wait to hear their voice, to see the light in their perfect eyes, he couldn’t... 

“Preston?” A small voice asked, pulling him from the sleep that had forcibly overtaken him. Preston’s eyes blinked open at the sound of their weak voice, and he had to swallow back the sob of relief that threatened to leave him. 

He had so much to say, to apologize for, to thank them for, had to tell them all over again how much they meant to him, how he could never lose them, he would never let anything hurt them the way they hurt now. Never again, he wanted to say, but the words were all stuck and jumbled in his strained throat. 

“Oh my god, Preston, are you alright? What happened to you?” They tried to sit up suddenly, their eyes widening at the sight of their bruised and bandaged Lieutenant. 

“Hold on–” he finally managed, but they felt their wounds before he could warn them, hissing at the pain of their tender flesh pressing into the mattress. 

“Shit.”

Their head fell back onto the pillow weakly, their brows furrowing in pain as they gritted their teeth. 

“Yeah, just take it easy, okay? I’m alright, I’m fine, and you’re… you’re alive, you’re okay. We’re both okay.” One hand unwittingly reached for Sole, his fingers grazing lightly over the unmarred side of their face as his eyes fogged with emotion. 

He knew he was saying it for Sole, and he knew it was true. As long as they were both alive, they would be okay. That’s the only thought he could convey to them, but in all honesty, Preston was saying it for himself too. 

We’re okay.  

He leaned forward, placing a long kiss on their hairline before pulling away, resting his forehead against theirs as the pad of his thumb stroked delicately over the soft skin of their cheek. He inhaled deeply, and slowly let out the breath as he allowed his eyes to close, as he breathed them in, and he felt Sole weakly push into his contact as their own shaky breath left their lips. 

“We’re okay.” They whispered, and Preston finally allowed himself the smallest of smiles.

They're okay.

[fallout4reactsblog]

could probably use some lighter courser ask storm prompts after all those whumpy angsty sounding ones, hmm. companions react to sole builds a raider cage but decides to see what happens if they bait it with fancylads, discovering later that it consistently traps coursers. each companion's personal part has them open it to find a different random courser inside, including named ones like x6, z2, & chase (who has some explaining to do). the jarring ooc surreality of the situation is amusing.

Ada: “You seem to be stuck.”

The courser inside glanced up at the sound of her voice, box of snack cakes in hand, and slowly nodded. “I didn’t realize it was trapped.”

“Usually this is baited with chems in order to trap raiders,” she said, beginning to fiddle with the release mechanism. “I am unsure why it is baited with cakes this time, but I’m sure it’s just a mistake. Don’t worry, you’ll be out shortly.”

“Thanks,” they said, slowly getting to their feet.

“Here, another box for your troubles,” she said, pulling one out of her bag. “Though I don’t believe I caught your name.”

They took it with a nod. “I’m X4-18. Nice to meet you.”

“I am Ada. My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“No problem,” X4 said. “Thanks for getting me out.”

In a flash of light, they were gone.

Cait: A rattle from inside the raider cage gave her pause on her way back home. She almost didn’t stop, the raider cage was sole’s problem after all, but what the hell. She was a little on edge today, and maybe beating the shit out of some unsuspecting soul would do the trick.

“Hi there!” A voice said from inside.

That gave her pause, but she went on fiddling with the lock. These things were usually baited with drugs after all. Wouldn’t be the first cheerful raider to come out.

The door swung open to reveal a blond courser, grinning ear to ear.

“I seem to have found myself in a bit of a predicament,” he said, sticking out a hand. “X7-22, nice to meet you. Don’t suppose you’re willing to help me out?”

A courser? Hell no. Slowly, she shook her head and started closing the door again.

“Hey! Wait a second, I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement.” He shifted to stay visible through the gap in the slowly closing door. “There’s gotta be something I can offer you. Money? Supplies? Anything? Come on, talk to me-”

With a click, the lock re-engaged. She dusted off her hands.

Coursers in the raider trap. Now that was a problem for sole.

Codsworth: “Oh, dear.”

He slowly hovered around the cage. The courser watched him with wary, predatory eyes. Codsworth made a noise akin to a sigh.

“They never learn.”

The courser opened their mouth to protest, but he waved his saw arm through the air, cutting them off. “Sole simply refuses to listen! I told them nothing good would come of this, and now look where we are. A courser is stuck in the raider cage. No good!”

He poked at the lock, still griping. “The raiders I could understand. No-good hooligans need to be disposed of. But this is madness. What is there to gain?”

The courser had shrunk back into the cage, presumably having realized that this lock was not built to be opened by a Mr. Handy, and they were going to be stuck listening to what he had to say for a while.

At least there was snacks.

Curie: “Pardon me.”

An unfamiliar voice made Curie jump, and she spun to see a man with slicked-back brown hair staring at her from the raider cage. She stiffened and turned back around.

“Ah, c’mon,” he said. “Don’t ignore me. I’m harmless.”

“I have no interest in speaking to such an unsavory character as yourself.”

“Not even a little sympathy for a fellow synth?”

She glanced back behind her, eyeing the man in the cage. He gave her a slick smile.

“What is your name?” she asked.

“Z2-47″

She frowned a little, gears turning. So he was a synth, and a courser at that. And by all accounts, she was a synth that needed to be brought back to the Institute.

...Hadn’t sole said something about needing to kill a courser?

She took one last look at him, still looking every bit like the cat that ate the canary, and put on her best smile. “Oh, but of course I will help you. I simply must find the person with the key. If you will wait but a moment, I will bring them.”

Not waiting for a reply, she went off in search for sole.

Danse: The trap’s mechanism was very simple. The cage was built so that you had to step inside to get the bait, then the weight triggered the door to close and lock behind you. Sole had built it to trap raiders in, usually baiting it with chems, though he couldn’t say how many times they’d sent him to go get Hancock out of there. That ghoul never learned.

Today, though, it was him eyeing the cage from across the street. Yesterday, he’d seen sole baiting it with no less than three full boxes of Fancylads Snack Cakes they’d pulled out of an old vault. That meant they were in pristine condition, untouched by the taste of radiation. He’d been too shy to ask them for one of the boxes, and now seemed to be his chance. He just had to get them out of there.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he approached the trap, bracing one foot against the small step up into the cage and curling his right hand around the doorframe. If he leaned in, he should be able to...

Evidently, lose his balance and fall in.

With an unceremonious crash, he toppled to the floor, door slamming shut behind him. For a brief moment, he stared around at his surroundings, truly confused on how this had happened.

At least he hadn’t landed on the snack cakes. Might as well make the best of a bad situation, right?

Deacon: “Well this is awkward.”

Chase glared up at his mischievous grin as he asked, “So, how’s the weather in there?”

“Exactly the same as it is out there. Let me out.”

“C’mon, Chase. At least finish the snack cakes. That’s what you’re in there for, after all. Don’t tell me you ate them already.”

She glared at him in lieu of a response, and he fake gasped. “Chase, there was, like, three boxes in there!”

“Coursers burn calories very quickly.”

“Probably all that running and shooting and all.” He sighed and started to fiddle with the lock. “Well, no sense in leaving you in there. You’ve got work to do after all.”

“This stays between us. Understand?”

He laughed and said, “Sure. Between you, me, Glory, Dez, whoever they tell...”

“Oh, you’re impossible.”

Gage: The satisfaction he got from seeing a locked raider cage was like nothing else. Commonwealth raiders were stupid bastards, and if they were dumb enough to go into a very clear trap, well, they were dumb enough to die.

He chambered a round in his rifle as he swung open the door.

An Institute courser snarled and swiped at him with a very large, mean-looking knife. He narrowly dodged, shifting to dodge her second strike, and slammed the door in her face. An unholy screech of metal on metal echoed down the street, and he winced.

“Damn,” he muttered. “Coursers these days.”

The whole cage shuddered as the synth inside slammed herself against the door, shouting obscenities. He took a step back, debating whether or not he was willing to open it up again. On the one hand, there was a synth that needed killing. On the other, well, he still had one eye left, and he was keen to not lose it to a very pissed-off courser.

“Overboss!” he shouted up the street. “There’s some kind of feral thing in your cage.”

“What? Hold on, let me come look, just give me a second...”

A second was never just a second with the Overboss. He sighed and resigned himself to a very long wait.

Hancock: "Well, hey there.”

“Oh! Monsieur Hancock. What wonderful timing!”

Curie grinned up at him with a smile to light rooms, and he almost shielded his eyes against the brightness. Geez, this girl was bubbly.

“Whatcha doin’ in there, Curie? I don’t take you for the raider type, and last I checked chems weren’t your style. Mine, yes. Yours, no.”

“It is a funny story, really,” she chuckled. “I saw this box of snack cakes inside. They are in pristine condition, and one of my few vices, so for a moment I simply was blind to the fact that-”

“Snack cakes?” Sure enough, there was a mint condition box in Curie’s hand. “Holy shit, share.”

In a flash, he ripped open the door and launched himself at the second box of snack cakes. And damn, were they good. Untainted by the taste of radiation, they were perfectly balanced between sweet and sour, sponge still moist, coating still soft. Heaven in a crinkly plastic wrapper.

“Um, Hancock? Is it not rather cramped for the both of us?”

Oh, yeah. He’d landed right on top of poor, unsuspecting Curie. “My bad. I got excited.”

“Oh, no, that I do not so much mind. I simply wonder how we are going to get out now.”

Shit.

MacCready: “The way I see it, this stands to become a mutually beneficial exchange.”

Ol’ Z2 looked disgruntled, but asked, “How so do you mean?”

“I mean we could both gain something from this. I let you out of there, and you offer me something in exchange. Sounds fair, right?”

“Maybe.”

He rocked back on his heels. “So, what do you have to offer?”

Z2 frowned and dug around in a pocket. “I have some fusion cells.”

MacCready rolled his eyes. “No good. Sole’s got tons, and I don’t use a laser weapon.”

“I have a few bottlecaps.”

He squinted into the cage. “What, like, ten? Yeah, no. Not gonna cut it.”

“Well, then I’m afraid this won’t work out. Coursers travel light.”

MacCready tutted, tapping a finger against his chin. “I don’t know, that coat of yours looks pretty snazzy. Bet it’s well-armored, too, huh?”

Z2 looked almost offended. “Are you suggesting that I hand you my coat?”

“The way I see it, you don’t have much of a choice. You can hand me the coat and get out of there, or wait for a less sympathetic person to come along and shoot you like fish in a barrel. Your call.”

It took only a moment’s hesitation before Z2 agreed.

Nick: "...Danse?”

Former Paladin Danse’s head shot up, and for the first time probably ever, he actually looked happy to see him. “Nick?”

“What on Earth are you doing in the raider cage?” He cut him a sideways glare. “Don’t tell me you picked up a chem habit.”

Danse looked appropriately embarrassed, and held up a box of snack cakes. “No. These were the bait this time, and I rather foolishly thought I could retrieve them from the trap unharmed.”

“Isn’t the whole point of the trap that you can’t get them out without falling in?”

“Of course, and I knew that. I simply allowed my pride to get the better of me. I should have left them alone, but couldn’t resist the temptation.”

Nick just shook his head. “Well, at least you can admit it.”

“Would you mind letting me out? It has been a significant amount of time.”

“Yeah, fine.” He set about picking the lock. “I assume you’d rather keep this between us.”

“If that’s an option.”

“I guess. Wouldn’t want someone spreading it around if it was me.”

“I appreciate that.”

Old Longfellow: There was a long moment of silence. He stared into the raider cage. Reinhart stared back, still slowly chewing on a snack cake. The eye contact seemed to last forever as Longfellow tried to figure out what the actual hell Reinhart was doing.

“Did you need something?” Longfellow finally asked.

“Did you?”

“I’d like to know what you’re doin’ in there.”

“I’d like to get out of here.”

Longfellow folded his arms. “You answer me, and I’ll let you out.”

“I wanted the snack cakes,” Reinhart replied, sliding an open box across the floor. “Here. There’s still a few in there, if you want.”

“I’ll pass, you keep ‘em.”

Reinhart slowly slid the box back toward himself. There was silence again.

“So are you going to let me out, or...?”

“Right, right. Yeah. I guess I’ll go find sole, they probably have the key...”

Piper: Piper Wright looked and felt every bit like the cat that caught the canary.

“Well, well, well, look at what we have here.”

“Miss Wright-”

“For the first time, we have a courser who has embarrassed himself in media res. Incredible!”

“Piper, please-”

“X6, can I get a quote? What do you have to tell the people?”

She held out a fake microphone, which was actually a rolled up copy of the Publick. He just sighed and said, “Could you please let me out?”

“Not a chance!” she laughed. “At least, not until you tell me how you got stuck in there. I mean, c’mon X6, a raider cage? You’ve gotta be smarter than that.”

He visibly deflated. “Unfortunately, Fancylads Snack Cakes are a common vice among generation three synths.”

Piper practically crowed with delight. “Snack cakes! You’re in there for snack cakes!”

“Yes, if you could just-”

“Sole!” she shouted up the street. “You gotta come see this!”

X6 resigned himself to the fact that he’d never live this down.

Preston: The person in the raider cage was not a raider.

She glared at him through the bars. He could only stare back in shock.

“You’re a courser,” he finally managed.

“No shit.”

“How... how did you get in there?”

She hesitated just a moment before replying, “Snack cakes.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered, “Dammit, sole. Everyone told you this was a bad idea, but you did it anyway?” To the courser, he said, “I’m sorry about this. We’ll get you out of there, promise.”

“Thanks,” the courser replied, then added, “I’m X9-96.”

“Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. Nice to meet you X9. I’m no good with locks, so I’ll need to go get the key. Will you be okay in there until I get back?”

She shrugged. “So long as no more rifle-toting raiders come by, yeah. No promises I won’t kill him if he comes back though.”

So Gage had been by. Just great. Under his breath, Preston muttered, “Be my guest.”

[jtrbluv]

resolutely, yours. | kth

summary: When your best-friend slash pain-in-your-ass, Kim Seokjin, drags you to a New Year’s Eve party that you didn’t want to go to in the first place, what better way is there to pass the time than to stay sober and watch all your classmates go berserk? Well, that is until Kim Taehyung steps into the picture, of course.

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.7k+

warnings: profanity, slight alcohol consumption, implied drug usage (two words only, i swear), college party antics should say enough

A/N: first fic of the year! W O O! this was supposed to be for tae’s birthday but i guess it’s fitting since it is the new year. a special thanks to miss mei @sugacouture for her likeness and @koushiningg aka the eternal hypewoman. this fic (drabble) is rly short but i do have a lot coming up in store! for now, hope u enjoy and happy new year everyone!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You are going to murder Kim Seokjin.

The spiked punch that fills your red solo cup up to its brim has been waiting to be quaffed down for thirty-seven minutes now. Roughly five minutes before that, Seokjin had somehow managed to drag you through the front doors of the fraternity party he’s been wanting you to accompany him to for weeks now.

And it only takes ten minutes for the proclaimed party animal and people-person, Kim Seokjin, to vanish from your side. He leaves you to fend for yourself in a jungle full of plastered college students—priorities at the moment are to either drink so much liquid regret that they can’t even remember their own names, or to find someone to make out with when the clock strikes at midnight. From simple observation, you notice that most, if not everyone here, fall under both categories.

Well, the exception being you, of course.

One thing to note is that you actually do have a decent tolerance for alcohol. You were no stranger to it, and it would serve as a dutiful companion to you when times called for it. Like last week after your last final that you knew you fucking bombed.

However, the humidity of the room due to the accumulation of bodies that left little to no room for fresh air, in addition to the strong stench of alcohol mixed with sweat mixed with God knows what, just was not the ideal place for you to get wasted. It didn’t stand close in comparison to drinking with a solid group of close friends, or by yourself in the comfort of your bed while a shitty rom-com plays in the background on your laptop.

The atmosphere is suffocating all of your senses— tears pricking at the corners of your eyes due to the strong odor of the room, the curled front pieces of your hair dampening and sticking to your temples, your mouth and throat dry as the Sahara Desert because, of fucking course, there is absolutely no water to be seen.

The small black dress and heels that Seokjin forced you to wear was worsening the situation greatly—your legs practically glued stuck to the stool you were sitting on, leading to ugly red marks and stinging skin if you tried to stand up.

You could not take being inside any longer. Instead of passing out from being piss drunk, you were almost adamant that you were going to pass out from the grueling mix of heat exhaustion and secondhand high.

Your grip on the solo cup significantly tightens, nearly crushing the plastic in half. You quickly stand up from the stool you were sitting in, the sensation akin to getting your legs waxed as you take a deep inhale through your nose, mentally preparing yourself to dive into this sea of financially obligated, depressed monsters.

Peculiarly, you manage to shove your way through a good chunk of the mass, your eyes set on the door that leads towards the balcony. Your ankles almost completely give into your weight a concerning number of times, and if it wasn’t for all of the arms of oblivious partygoers that you had clung onto for dear life, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own two feet by now.

Solely occupied with trying to navigate your way through the crowd, you don’t even realize that someone bumped into you and spilled your drink all over your dress until you reach the balcony. The cold, night breeze passes over your body, leaving chills on the huge wet patch on your dress. The one goddamn time your dress sees the light of day, you just so happen to find a way to ruin it.

“Fucking hell!” You holler into the vacant balcony, your hands coming up to carefully poke at the wet patch on your dress. You wince as the soaked, freezing fabric comes in contact with your bare stomach. Angry, you chug down the rest of the drink inside your cup and chuck it off the balcony, too enraged to even react to its strong taste.

Shivering, you walk deeper onto the balcony, cradling yourself and staring at your shoes, a string of curses spewing from your lips. You scold yourself for not bringing a jacket while simultaneously plotting your revenge against Seokjin. A pair of black loafers intrude your vision, accompanied by a husky voice that calls out to you,

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

Your head shoots up, your eyes meeting the ones of the man standing in front of you. He towers above you significantly despite you wearing heels. His eyes are only a tad obscured by the soft, brown curls of his hair, perfectly styled and gelled to have that ‘purposefully messy’ look. The only difference being that models stood no chance against him when he was the blueprint himself. The black button up he’s clad in exquisitely accentuates every crevice of his lean, chiseled body. And his eyes that were already alluring on their own, were adorn with hazel-colored contacts that you swear you could stare at for hours upon hours. He is so otherworldly beautiful, you temporarily forget to breathe.

And you also forget that you are just staring at him, and he is staring back at you with a smile.

Times like this is when you wish you were at least a little buzzed. Sober ‘you’ is way too socially inept to fend for themself sadly. “O-oh i’m fine, someone just spilled their drink on me.”

Maybe it’s the way the moon sits behind him and casts a halo-like glow around his figure or how he’s just been staring straight into your eyes this whole time, like it’s second nature whilst you can only hold eye contact with him for two seconds before instinctively shying away. To say that his presence frightened you was an understatement. You were about to take cover and hide under the patio table like a five-year-old if he kept looking at you like that.

He blinks, his mouth stretching into a wide grin, rectangular-shaped and having the ability to ease your nerves. He places his drink on a patio table, dusting his hands on his pants, “Here, I’ll get you some napkins, just stay here.”

Stunned, it isn’t until he leaves that you yell out to him as he steps back inside the chaos, “Thank you!”

You carefully sit down on a patio chair, your arms still wrapped around your shivering torso while you try to breathe warm air into your cupped hands.

The man steps out onto the balcony minutes later, his fists full of paper towels as he hands them to you. “Here you go.”

You graciously take them, blotting your dress with the paper towels, your nose scrunching at the scent of alcohol that you had no choice but to inhale. “Thank you so much, really.” You say— still very much shocked to know that chivalry isn't quite dead yet. “It’s Taehyung, right?”

He nods, “Yeah, and you’re Y/N?

Your pause, your hand hovering over your dress as you look up and nod with a forced smile, “No but really, thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry that it happened in the first place,” he says apologetically, as if it was his fault, “it seems like everyone’s already out of their minds, and it isn’t even midnight yet.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” you assure him, which seems to work because his eyes soften a bit, “besides, I guess it’s my fault for coming here in the first place. I knew something like this was gonna happen and now here I am, smelling like cheap, convenience store vodka.”

He chuckles, and you swear you’ve never been so elated to make someone laugh until now, “I somehow managed to beat the crowd. I’ve literally just been standing out here by myself for a good hour now.”

You sigh in envy, “Must be nice.”

“Too bad you couldn’t make it, it’s been awfully quiet up here.” He says, pivoting on his heel to look at the rest of the empty balcony.

Your eyes trail to the commotion inside the house, the crowd still going strong, “Are we really the only sober ones here?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, we’re just the only ones stupid enough to show up at a college party on New Year’s Eve, expecting to have a good time sober while everyone’s getting plastered.”

The unexpected truth pill causes you to enter a fit of laughter, small clouds of air leaving your mouth every time you exhale. He laughs along with you. “Yeah we are pretty stupid, I do admit.” You concur, while rubbing at your arms that were covered in goosebumps.

“Do you want my jacket?” He asks you while pointing to the black blazer that’s slung on top of the chair next to you.

You wrinkle your nose, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, before I put it on you myself,” he giggles with a roll of his eyes.

Shaking your head, you grab the blazer and wrap it around your shoulders. You stand up from your seat and turn towards him, brow quirked. “A-are you not cold? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

“I’m fine, I swear,” he counters, reaching out to help you slip your arms into his huge jacket sleeves, “I’m also not wearing a sleeveless dress.” He teases, eyeing you up and down as he takes in how oversized his jacket is on you. He thinks it looks much better when you’re wearing it, but he won’t tell you that.

“Right…” you drag out, following his footsteps as he motions you to follow him towards the edge of the balcony.

You two stand next to each other, leaning against the edge, arms nearly brushing against one another.

“So Taehyung, what brings you here in the first place?” You ask, knowing that he seems just as displeased to be here as much as you are.

“I got dragged here by a friend, Park Jimin, in particular.” He responds with a frown, “I have no idea where the fuck he is now, he literally left me as soon as we got here.”

Turning towards him incredulously, your brows raise and the corner of your lip curls into a smirk, “You don’t say.”

Confused, but also curious about the expression painted across your face, he quirks a brow, “Hm?”

You close your mouth, crossing your arms tighter around yourself, “I got dragged here by a friend too. Kim Seokjin. That asshole left me as soon as we got here too.”

He steps back, scoffing in disbelief, “Wow, we really just got stood up by our own friends.” Taehyung proclaims into the vacant balcony, for both him and you— the thought of it sounding even more pathetic after being said out loud.

“They’re pretty goddamn close to losing that title now.” You quip, shaking your head in dismay.

His head rocks back, a lively laugh leaving his lips due to your comment which makes you smile at the fact that you are even able to make him laugh like this.

“Damn it Y/N, you should’ve came out sooner, we could’ve been having a good time out here.” He tells you with a pout as his laughter starts to dwindle.

Sighing heavily, you too, feel regretful about the missed opportunity, “I really should have.”

He nudges you with his elbow, “At least you’re here now.”

The bass-boosted music from inside the house ceases, the room becoming momentarily quieter while someone bellows out, “Hey look, it’s the countdown!”

Everyone’s focus shifts towards the gigantic flat screen TV that hung above the fireplace, making you realize where the fraternity funds truly go to. You and Taehyung exchange glances before shrugging and moving closer to all the commotion since it was New Year’s Eve, above all.

He leans against the doorframe and you stay close to his side, the number ten flashing brightly on the screen—the crowd’s shouts getting louder as it reaches the final ten seconds of the year.

Instead of shouting out the numbers with the rest of the mass, you and Taehyung are simply witnessing it all fold out in silence.

“EIGHT!”

‘You got any New Year’s resolutions?!” You nudge him while attempting to yell over the noise.

His head whips towards you, “Me?!”

“SEVEN!”

Your brows furrow, “Does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?!”

His mouth splits into a grin once more, folding over in laughter just enough to meet eye-to-eye with you.

“SIX!”

“I mean! I didn’t have one originally!”

The crease in your brows dissipate, “Well, what changed?!”

“FIVE!”

His head tilts to the side, “I came here!”

You mirror his head tilt, confused as ever, “Um, so you wanna go to more parties next year?!”

“FOUR!”

He slaps a palm against his forehead, “From what you know about me, does it look like I like parties?!”

“How the hell would I know?!”

His jaw drops, “Y/N—!”

“THREE!”

“—I wanna get to know you better Y/N!”

Your jaw drops as well, “What?! Me?!”

“TWO!”

“Is there any other Y/N standing in front of me?!”

“I– oh...”

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd shouts together in unison despite all being under the influence. A confetti cannon erupts, flying around the room and falling into people’s hair as the mass starts to split into pairs, all partaking in the traditional New Year’s kiss that you personally haven’t had much luck in participating in yourself.

You rip your gaze away to look at Taehyung. He smiles, pulling a piece of confetti out of hair, making your cheeks flush. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Taehyung.”

The small amount of alcohol you consumed when you first stepped foot onto the balcony leaves you slightly buzzed. Just enough to leave you with the right amount of courage to vouch for the nickname.

You take a daring step towards the man in front of you, “I also have a resolution of my own, Taehyung.”

He takes an even more daring step towards you, having the audacity to lean down— your faces only inches apart. “And what is that, may I ask?”

Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, you close the gap in between the two of you, locking your lips with his. The kiss isn’t short enough to be a peck but isn’t long enough to be considered making out. You pull away enough to be able to see his face, “Is to get to know you better too.”

He chuckles, “Y/N, your lips taste like spiked punch.”

Pouting, you bump your forehead into his, “All I drank was whatever you saw me have at the balcony, I swear.”

He pecks your nose, your frown immediately wiping away as he does so, “I trust you.”

You smile, giving him a peck on the mouth, “As you should.”

“I’d kiss you again, but you probably can’t stand being here any longer. Let’s get out of here.” He tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You slide your arm onto his, interlocking his fingers with your own, “I think you’ve already completed your resolution Taehyung. You seem to know me so well already.”

Pushing through the crowd, he hooks an arm onto your waist while he shoves a path for you two to get through, “Too bad I don’t know where you wanna go though.”

You hum, thinking for a moment before your grumbling stomach answers for you, “I’m hungry, let’s go grab burgers or something.”

You don’t see the way Taehyung is fondly staring at you because you’re too busy trying to open the front door. At last, you manage to pry it open, stepping back outside while Taehyung’s holding you in his arms. It’s not that cold this time.

Taehyung’s hands land on both of your shoulders— turning you around to face him as he swiftly latches his lips onto yours. You stumble back, but his hand is quick to support you as he kisses you deeply. You kiss him back, letting your fingers curl around the curls of his hair.

He pulls back this time, letting his forehead rest on yours, “Y/N, I think you are the one that’s completed your resolution. How the hell did you know that I fucking love burgers?”

-

-

MASTERLIST

[returnn-of-the-mac]

How would companions (including faction leaders and DLC faction leaders) react to SS asking, “You ever wonder why we’re here?” like their reason for being where they are today.

Please enjoy! 😊

Fallout 4 Companions (+ Faction Leaders) React: Sole Asking What Their Purpose Is

Piper: I think my purpose is to educate the people of the Commonwealth with facts, and spreading the word about the evils of the Institute. No one is safe. It’s my personal goal to inform the public.

Hancock: I’m just here for the drugs, man. Ask me again when I’ve got my jet.

Codsworth: My purpose was originally a mechanical combat robot, but now it’s scrubbing toilets.

Strong: Strong here to find milk.

Nick: My mission is to help others, as I’m sure you already know. There’s just something special about reuniting individuals with their loved ones. Being a detective is my passion.

MacCready: I’m just not about this fake deep crap. If you want me to participate, it’s gonna be at least 200 caps.

Curie: My goal ees to be a ‘ighly ezteemed biology, chemistry, and medical reszearcher in ze Commonwealth!

Ada: My purpose was to protect Jackson. But he is dead, so I have failed. But that is okay. I now collect junk, like a walking trash can. Would you like a toy alien?

Cait: Me goal? Live fast, die young. I ‘ate existin in this shitehole Commonwealth.

Longfellow: To be the world’s greatest tugboat captain.

Preston: I’m here to save the Commonwealth from ultimate destruction and keep the community safe.

Sturges: I dunno, friend. I just live day by day. Reckon it’s all you can do in this day and age.

Deacon: Me? Ha! I’m here for a good time!

Desdemona: My purpose was to start the Railroad and free synths!

Danse: My goal is to rid the Commonwealth of all the disgusting vermin that’s poisoning humanity.

Maxson: My purpose is to spread the word of the Brotherhood of Steel, to unite against evil, and rid the Commonweath of the parasites that are killing it.

X6-88: Philosophy is a waste of limited brain capacity.

Father: To redefine mankind...that’s my ultimate goal.

Gage: Look, I just go day to day hopin I don’t get my balls chopped off in my sleep, boss. I ain’t ever thinkin about deep shit like that.

Mags: I’m just here to rule over the pathetic scum of Nuka World.

Mason: I’m here to fuck things up and go bananas.

Nisha: I’m here to mutilate.

[publickoccurances]

Female companions react to Sole breaking up with them out of the blue: Part 1 ‘the break up’

Cait: Cait tapped her foot impatiently as she stared at Sole who was just walking through the front door. They were late. They had made such a big deal about seeing her to talk about something important and they were late.

“It’s rude to keep a girl waitin’ ye know?” She was joking of course. But the way Sole didn’t laugh or react worried her a bit. They looked rather serious. “What ye got a face like a slapped arse for?”

Sole sighed as they took a seat opposite Cait at the table, running a hand through their hair. “Sorry it’s been a long day... I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Okay this was worrying. Sole and Cait had been together for around a year now. And they never had serious interactions. The way Sole was speaking was odd. She didn’t like it.

She rose an eyebrow, her confusion was clear by the look on her face. “I were only joking love... is everything grand?”

Sole shifted slightly in their seat, eyes on their hands as they were unable to bring themself to make eye contact with Cait. This wasn’t a conversation they wanted to have. Yet they didn’t see any other choice.

See it wasnt that Cait had done anything wrong. She was perfect in Sole’s eyes. Rough around the edges but deep down she was good for them. But Sole just couldn’t keep this facade up anymore. Couldn’t pretend like they were content.

Their heart had been broken by the loss of their spouse and then the loss of Shaun. Cait had been helping heal them ever since. It had developed into a relationship. And a year later here they were. But they couldn’t lie to her anymore. It was time to be honest.

“Cait. I just... I need to get something off my chest, you know?” Sole began, finally looking up to meet her eyes.

Cait nodded slowly, suddenly she didn’t feel so good. She didn’t have anything witty to say. Not yet at least. She just watched carefully. “Spit it out then.”

Sole reached for her hand across the table. Resting theirs on top of it. “The time we’ve spent together has been amazing. I’ve enjoyed every second of it. Even when we’ve been getting shot at by raiders.”

Cait chuckled slightly at that. Yeah, Sole had seemed to enjoy their interactions with raiders a little too much. “Oh yeah? ye’ looked all serious just to tell me ye’ve enjoyed spending time with me?”

“No. No that’s not it.” Sole could feel a tightening in their throat. God they didn’t want to say this. But they had to. “I’ve been using you as a crutch Cait.” They admitted finally.

“What the feck are ye on about?” Cait blurted out, clearly very confused. She pulled her hand away, sitting up a little straighter, eyes narrowing. “How the fuck have ye been using me as a crutch?”

Sole took a deep breath. Here it goes. “Because I have. Since we got you off the drugs I’ve been using you to hold myself up. Okay?”

Cait suddenly stood up, eyes burning as she stared down at Sole. “Ye better start making some fecking sense here. Stop speaking in riddles and spit it out.”

“I’ve been using you Cait!” Sole finally snapped, pushing themself onto their feet. “I’ve been using you to keep me distracted from the fact my life fell apart okay? I was married. I had a kid. That all got taken away from me within the blink of an eye. And I’ve been using you to forget about them. To keep me standing. But I can’t anymore.”

Had that really been all she was to them? Had she spent a year of her life being a post for someone to lean on? Had every second been a lie?

“Ye’ve been using me?!” Cait demanded, rounding on Sole. It was taking every ounce of her energy not to swing at them. Using her? “Just like every other fucker in my life, ye’ve been using me?”

Sole knew what she was thinking. Knew there was a good chance she was going to start throwing punches. And in all honesty they deserved it.

“I’ve gone through hell and back with ye, and now yer telling me it’s meant fuck all?” At this point Cait was used to disappointment in people. But Sole? She really had thought they were different.

Sole nodded slowly. “Pretty much. Yeah. It meant nothing okay? You- you meant nothing.” It was breaking their heart to do this. They didn’t mean that. But maybe the easiest way to let Cait walk away from them was to be cruel. She was a person. Not a crutch. And if she stayed Sole would just keep leaning on her.

Caits jaw clenched, hands balled up into fists. That’s really how Sole wanted to act? Fine. Fuck em’. She didn’t need them anyway.

“Aye well... you enjoy yer pathetic life out here Sole.” She basically hissed, storming right past them.

She was done. She was leaving. She was out the door.

Curie: Curie hummed as she tapped away at the keys of her terminal. She was pretty entranced by the research notes she was making, but out of the corner of her eye she couldn’t help but notice her lover looking rather tense as they sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hmm Ma/Mon Cherie, you look tense.” She commented nonchalantly as she continued on with her work.

Sole sighed softly, rubbing the back of their head. Oh Curie. She was so sweet and caring, but she was definitely oblivious to the worries Sole had.

“Yeah I didn’t sleep very well last night.” They replied, standing up from where they had been sitting and proceeding to pace around the room slightly.

Curie frowned. Turning away from her terminal and watching Sole carefully. They were pacing. She had learnt that pacing was a sign of stress or nervousness, among many other mostly negative things.

“As’ something upset you?” She asked curiously, head tilting to the side as she watched Sole. She had been in her human form for over a year now, most of that time spent with Sole. But she was still learning how to be human. And one of the most effective methods of learning she had found was watching Sole.

“I-well...” Sole rubbed the back of their head again. It was a nervous tick of sorts.

Curie stood up, moving to stand in front of her lover. She was beginning to feel concerned. “Pacing around zhe room, inability to construct a sentence... this is signs of nerves, no?”

Oh god. She’d picked up on how they were feeling hadn’t she? Sole felt awful. She looked so concerned for them. They had to talk to her about what was bothering them. They had to talk to her now before it got worse.

“Curie I think we need to speak... about something important.”

Curie nodded her head, a smile spread across her lips. Yes speaking about important things was imperative. She was rather curious about what it was Sole hsd to tell her. Perhaps about an experiment?

“Of course mon amour.”

Sole gently took Curie’s hands and lead her to sit with them on the edge of the bed. God they didn’t want to do this. Curie had made them so happy. And now they had to end that.

“I think it’s safe to say we both live very busy lives.” Sole began to explain, looking down at the floor as they did so. “And we’ve pretty much been able to coexist with this.”

“I agree.” Curie nodded her head. Unaware that there was a subtle hint in what Sole was saying. “You are a busy protector of the people, and I am busy with my research.”

“Exactly.” Sole nodded. Assuming that Curie understood what they were getting at. “And well... a protector of the people should be out there. Wandering about to find people in need. Snd a researcher... should well... be doing what you do.”

She didn’t want to admit it. But what Sole was saying was rather lost on her. But she nodded her head regardless. “I agree... one cannot help protect others from danger if they are inside all day. And I cannot make advancements in science if I am not working.”

Sole let out a sigh of relief, assuming Curie had understood what they had been hinting at completely. “Oh thank god... I’m so glad you understand.” They wrapoed their arms around her. “And even though we won’t be a couple any more I hope we can stay friends.”

Curie suddenly felt an emotion she had never experienced before. Her whole body went cold. Stomach dropped. Her heart was racing. It was a little harder to breathe.

“I-yes.” She nodded slowly. Her and Sole were no longer a couple? Okay. That was a new development for her. But she just nodded again. “Yes.”

Piper: “Nat! Nat could you turn the radio down?! I can barely hear myself think!” The reporter called down to her little sister. She was upstairs working on a new article.

‘Ransom: First Hand Experience.’

The title was in the works but Piper was excited about what she was writing regardless. She had been held hostage by a group of raiders the other week. They demanded a 2000 cap ransom. But of course Blue had stormed the place and rescued her. She had found the situation extremely exciting, even when fearing for her life. Plus it was going to make a great article.

“Hmmm... maybe that bit is too explicit- but then again. A raider getting beaten to a pulp. Something romantic about it.” Piper thought outloud to herself, trying to figure out how to make this piece as captivating as possible.

Downstairs the front door opened, Sole walking inside.

Nat was the first to great her sisters partner. She had become fond of Sole, they were good to her and Piper. Plus they made her feel safe.

“You’re back!” Nat exclaimed, rushing over to give them a hug. She’d neve admit it but she was always scared when Sole went out to do a job they wouldn’t return.

Sole chuckled softly, giving the young girl a big squeeze. “Of course I’m back Kiddo. I was just delivering some supplies to Bunker Hill.”

Nat didn’t care what they had been doing. She was just glad they were back. “Piper told me all about how you kicked those raiders asses! I can’t believe it- well I can but still! You’re so cool!”

Sole smiled and shook their head. God she really wss turning into her sister. “She tell you about that huh?”

Piper smiled as she watched the exchange, walking down the stairs slowly. “Hey you... do I not get a hug?”

Sole smiled a little, moving over to press a kiss to her cheek, giving her a quick hug. “Hey- have you got a minute so we can talk?” Sole murmured, giving her the look that said ‘this is really important.’

Piper nodded immediately. “Yeah- of course Blue.. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sole nodded and headed up the stairs as they waited for Piper to come up with some sort of excuse to get her little sister out of the house for a little while so they could speak.

A few moments later Piper was joining Sole in her room, frowning slightly. “Why’d you look so serious Blue? What’s happened?”

Sole sighed softly, chewing on their lip. “It’s about what happened last week-.” They couldn’t even finish their sentence without Piper interrupting.

“Yeah? Great because I’m writing the article and I could use a statement from you!” She had suddenly forgot the intensity of Soles voice as she got distracted by the paper.

Sole shook their head, sighing softly. “No Pipes. This is important yeah?”

A slight frown spread across Pipers lips. Sole had never said no about her paper before. Never put something in front of it. This must have been serious.

“Okay...” She nodded slowly, sitting down on her desk chair. “Shoot. What’s up?”

“Last week. Getting that note. Having to find you.” Sole felt their eyes begin to tear up slightly. “Piper I thought they’d killed you. Thought I was gonna walk in there to find you dead.”

Piper sighed softly, rubbing her temples. It had been intense. But she hadn’t realised the situation had troubled Blue so much. “I can imagine- but it worked out fine. I came out of there without a scratch on me.”

Sole sighed, shaking their head. “Pipes that’s not the point. You were targeted because of me. What if it happens again? What if next time you’re not so lucky... what if next time they take Nat?”

Piper felt her heart twinge. She hadn’t thought about the fact that Nat could become a target just like she had been. But it wasn’t Blues fault. She didn’t blame them. “Come on now Blue- don’t think like that.”

Sole took a deep breath. “Piper I think it would be better for you and Nat if I were to leave. I love you. I love the life we’re building together. But I can’t risk you being hurt because of me.”

That had come as a shock. Piper had never thought Blue would be so scared for her safety they would leave. No. This was crazy. “Blue come on. Don’t be so drastic.”

Sole shook their head and began to walk down the stairs. “Piper I’m serious. I can’t do this. I can’t lose you to death too. I need to leave.”

Piper followed behind, starting to feel a bit frantic. “What? Come on Blue- can we talk about this?!”

“Piper I can’t. Look it’s over okay?”

Piper shook her head, grabbing their wrist. “Blue dont you dare walk out that door. You are not walking out on us like this- please.”

Sole pulled their wrist free of Pipers grip. Not even looking back at her as they opened the door. “I’m sorry Piper. I really am.”

All Piper could do was watch. Her heart breaking right there and then. “Blue if you leave me now, like this, I’ll never forgive you.”

[atombombbagel]

Sole goes AWOL and no one seems to know where they went. How would the companions (+ Maxson?) react to accidentally finding out that they have become the fierce Overboss of Nuka World? The angstier, the better!

(ANGST AHEAD) Hey. Thought I’d post because why not… Enjoy. Also I only did romanced companions because It’s been forever and I need some time to get back into things because I have the motivation of a dead fish :) 

(I’ll try and add the other companions later)  

Hours? Days? Months? Who knows. Nobody does apparently, they checked, double checked, triple checked. They had asked everybody who is anybody and nope, they hadn’t the foggiest idea, not the slightest clue. Sole was gone, and they couldn’t help but think the worst… 

 Cait: “I’m not using anymore ye asshole.” Cait snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She’d been wandering about, walking off last nights hangover (the hangover she’d acquired by trying to drown out her negative thoughts about Sole’s whereabouts) when she’d been approached by an old friend. No. Not a friend, an old dealer she knew.

 "Well… you see, Cait, I told the boss I had the perfect person to do deals out here in the good old commonwealth and you wouldn’t want to let an old buddy down now would you?“ The man in worn slacks snickered. "I know you, Cait, you can’t refuse a good deal… a good high.” The raider twirled a psycho in his hand. 

 "Did ye even hear me? I said I aint usin’ and I definitely aint dealin’ for a waste a space like you. Now ye better piss off before I knock yer feckin’ teeth out.“ Cait seethed, the arrogance of her former dealer making her blood boil. 

 "Is this her?” A voice from the distance said. Cait’s eyes flicked to the person making their way out from behind a decrepit shack. She raised her eyebrows as she focused on the face in front of her. A face she knew all too well. 

 "Sole?“ She said in surprise, "What the hell are ye doin’ messing around with this eejit?” She raised her voice. Sole stepped forward, knocking the dealer in the chest with their fist. 

 "This is who you have for me? You numbskull, get out of my sight.“ Sole shoved the man aside. "Cait.” Sole turned to their former companion. “Long time no see.” They smiled at the red head. 

 “You. Yer the Overboss? Tha one terrorising the Commonwealth with yer gang of thugs?“ Cait pulled a psycho from her pocket. "Ye left me this. Do ye have any idea what ye could of undone?” Cait threw the drug to Sole’s feet. “I can’t believe ye’d do this. I thought… Nevermind what I thought.” Cait sighed. “Stay away from me." 

 "I got pulled into it. I didn’t know you were the person-”

 "Save yer bullshit for someone who cares. After what ye saw me going through? Ye’d what? Inflict that hell on someone else by selling the damn stuff? Yer an ass. I want nothing to do with ye.“

 "It’s only business, I never meant…” Sole tried to convince her but Cait had already turned away. The feeling in her heart worse than any withdrawal she’d ever felt.

Curie: Curie followed the beeping on her radio to the location she was pretty sure was being transmitted. The distress call. The person who needed medical assistance should be right here. But… they weren’t. 

“Fresh meat!" 

All of a sudden, Curie’s vision went black, she tried to scream but she couldn’t, her voice was trapped in the back of her throat. She was terrified. She passed out she was sure of it, only her vision came back to her as a burlap sack was lifted from her head. 

"Looky here Boss. It works.” A raider said (referring to the trap he had set up and planned despite everyone being sceptical about it). Curie’s eyes met her long lost Companions. Soles. She sighed with relief. 

“You’re alive!” She beamed, “I heard a distress call, coming right from here.” Curie explained. “I’ve been trying to help people all over in your absence until I found you of course. Where is the person who needs help?” Curie asked, observing the area carefully. She’d seen similar camps back in the Commonwealth but nothing of this capacity. There must have been hundreds of raiders. She grimaced at the sight of a pile of stacked dead bodies, naked, left there to rot, while a group of raiders rummaged through their clothes and belongings. It didn’t seem like Sole to like this sort of brutality, but maybe she didn’t know Sole as well as she thought she did.  

“There is no distress call.” Sole said plainly, crossing their arms over their chest. She nodded for one of the raiders to come over to them. “You don’t harm her. You and whats-his face,” Sole paused, “You know… Mason’s right hand. You both, take her home and make sure she gets there safe. Not a single hair on her head gets touched, understand?” Sole’s eyes pierced into the raiders. He was clearly scared of them. He nodded. 

“No distress call? But I heard-" 

"It was a trap Curie. You need to go home. It isn’t safe here. I care about you too much to let this corrupt you,” Sole interrupted. “I know you don’t understand but trust me. They need you back home, you need to forget about me." 

Danse: "BOSS!” A Disciple, that was clearly out of the breath from the vigorous running she’d been doing called to Sole. The Overboss of Nuka-World turned to the raider. “We have someone you’d definitely want to see. The bounty on this one’s head. We’ve caught the best of the best!” She was giddy, excited. Sole creased their eyebrows as they followed her. 

“Who is it?” Sole asked, observing the person in front of them, their eyes covered by an old rag. Sole didn’t see the point in covering their eyes if they were to die when handed to their pursuer anyway. 

“Its the Paladin. The one the Brotherhood have been looking for. The one that got away. We’ll be rich!” Sole’s mouth dropped into a frown. It couldn’t be him… could it? 

“Why did you bring him here?” The paladin’s ears perked up when he caught the sound of his capturers voice. That voice that he loved so much, that had pulled him back from the brink at the darkest of times. The voice of the person he never thought he’d see again. 

“Sole?” He said in to blind darkness. He couldn’t see anything, but he knew, he knew deep down it was them. Where they finally back to hand him over to Maxson? Finally seeing him as what he truly was. 

“Remove the blindfold you fool.” Sole said, their eyes meeting Danse’s when the cloth was finally removed. 

“I thought you were dead.” He said after a brief moment of silence. He took a minute to look around at his surroundings. Of all places, he never expected Sole to be here, in this mess. “What are you doing? You’re smarter than this.

"Watch your mouth,” A raider snarled, holding a knife to Danse’s neck. 

“Let him go.” Sole demanded, their eyes still fixed on Danse’s. “I had to get away from the Brotherhood, I found myself here. Its the same, only here I can make my own rules." 

"These people are murderers Sole.” Danse met the other raiders eyes, he watched their scowling faces. They were ready to pounce but they couldn’t, Sole would never let them. 

“So are the Brotherhood.”

“It’s different. They are doing the best for humanity, you’re killing mankind for financial gain. It’s despicable.” Sole smiled briefly. He always was honest. The most honest man they’d ever met. 

“We won’t be turning him in, or killing him.” Sole announced. “Danse, find Preston. He’s in Sanctuary, he’ll let you stay there, for as long as you want." 

"Come with me?” Danse asked, “You don'y belond here.” He wanted Sole to jump into his arms, wrap their arms around his neck and say yes but they stood there expressionless. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry. Find Preston, he’ll help.” Sole swallowed the lump in their throat as they turned. They couldn’t face him as they left, it was too painful. 

Hancock: The red coat wearing devil took a small step backwards, making sure that there was distance between him and the raider, who stood a few meters in front of him. 

“You stick those nails in your armour to make you appear tuff huh big guy?” Hancock mocked, a smirk etched across his disfigured face. 

“You’d better pay up Mister Mayor, or we’ll have to call the boss down here and well, they don’t appreciate it when someone don’t pay for the goods. You understand me?” A raider with bright green hair, stood next to her nail-armour friend. She snarled, making sure the light from the sun reflected on her recently sharpened blade. “Or perhaps we’ll get the pack on you.” She laughed before howling, causing the raider next to her to follow suit. Hancock raised a hairless brow. 

“Aw come on now, we can handle this like men… or women… wait…” Nevertheless, Hancock stepped forward, his concealed knife dug deep into the green-haired woman’s gut. He pulled his knife out and thrust it back in, making sure to twist it. The woman groaned in pain. “Don’t even think about it,” Hancock hissed to the other one, making his threat quite clear to him.

“I think that is quite enough.” Hancock was approached by another raider in Brahmin road leathers, only it wasn’t a raider. It was Sole. The same Sole that had been missing for months, the same one he’d sent search parties out for, the same Sole he thought was dead. 

“Well well… aint this a surprise.” Hancock cleaned his knife using a handkerchief he kept in the inside pocked of his red jacket. “Hanging with the big boys now huh? Or are you the big old bad boss of Nuka World?” He spat. “I didn’t think you were the muderin’ type.”

“I am the boss here Hancock and there is no murdering, but if I get double crossed well that is different.” Sole’s statement made him chuckle with disgust. 

“You.” Hancock pointed his knife at Sole, “Are not who I thought you were.” He put his hand inside his pocket again, this time pulling out a bag of caps. “Here’s your fucking money.” He threw it to the ground, right at Sole’s feet. “Now we are square." 

"It doesn’t have to be like this. You could join us, join me." 

"You really think I want to become a petty murdering thug? You think I was to kill innocent people after stealing their shit? All that they have so you can what? Sit on your throne and boss ME around?” He chuckled. “I’ve got a town to run and you aint fucking welcome.” He shook his head. “I really thought you were different Sunshine.”

MacCready: “There must be some here somewhere.” MacCready muttered to himself as he rummaged around in various chests and bags of an old locker room he’d stumbled across. It was only till he heard a click of a gun he stood still. 

 "What do you think you’re doing in this part of town?“ A rough voice said, making MacCready turn around to face him. His eyes studied the man in front of him. Tall, lanky, not very built, hair was slicked back and around his waste was a belt made of… was that bullets? He looked back up, catching the man’s steady gaze. 

 "The boss aint gonna like this, but if you empty your pockets, they don’t have to know you was trespassing on their property.” The man flashed his teeth with a menacing smile. 

 "I don’t think so.“ MacCready replied standing his ground, ready to aim his rifle. He knew he’d be quicker, but the image of his infant son flashed in his mind. Duncan. He couldn’t do anything rash. "Take me to your boss.” He decided, gripping the leather strap across his shoulder. The raider shrugged before motioning MacCready to follow him.

 The room was dark-ish, lit up by a single lamp, shaped like a cola bottle. Only it had a face, which MacCready thought was weird and a little creepy. 

 "This is the guy that was snooping around in the locker room boss. A thief if you ask me. We should throw him to the dogs.“ He snickered, shoving MacCready forward. It was only then did MacCready catch a glimpse of the person sitting in the chair besides the cola shaped lamp. A smile stretched across their lips.

 "If it isn’t the greatest sniper in all the Commonwealth.” MacCready recognised their voice instantly. 

 "Sole?“ He questioned, making out their features dimly lit by the shit lamp. "So this is what you’ve decided to do while you’ve been gone?” MacCready looked around, heads on spikes jutted out of the ground like some barbaric warning. Junk littered the ground, and in the distance he could discern two of Sole’s raiders roughing each other up. “I’m not one to judge, I’ve made numerous questionable choices too. To each his own.” He shrugged, clutching the leather strap holding his prized sniper, closer to his chest. He knew Sole, he knew they would never hurt him, yet he couldn’t help but feel unsettled by what they had become. He chuckled. “I ran with the gunners, they aint much different. Just be careful." 

 "Thanks Mac.” Sole said with a brief smile. “You don’t want to stay for a while?” They asked, cocking their head to the side. MacCready shook his head, rather quickly. 

 "I should get back to my son. Stay safe out here Sole.“ And with that MacCready left, not wanting to be around Sole when they lead a bloodthirsty pack of savage raiders. It wasn’t safe for him or his son. 

Piper: The story was going to be so good! She was finally hot on the trail of this mysterious boss, the one who was ordering the takeover of the Commonwealth. Once this was all around Diamond City she’d be sold out of newspapers for sure. She’d finally be able to buy her sister that premium box of snack cakes, the ones only Deacon could get on his way back from Washington. A hefty price but her sister deserved it. 

Piper hid against the side of a dilapidated building, crouching down as she tried to keep to the shadows. He held her pen tightly in her grip. 

"Where’s the money you stole from me?” A voice snarled, the person behind it kicking a man in the stomach, before holding their gun up and cocking back the trigger. “I won’t hesitate, you know that, don’t you? And after you’re dead we know where your family lives.” The voice threatened. The man stumbled over his own words. 

“Please don’t hurt them! I swear I don’t know where the money is! I didn’t take it!" 

"Wrong answer.” The loud echo of the gunshot rang through Pipers ears, causing her to gasp without her even knowing it came from her mouth. The person she’d been spying on, the ‘Boss’, saw her. She gulped trying to hurry to her feet but she was grabbed by the bosses minions. They made their way over to where Piper was standing, stopping when they saw the familiar cap and coat of their old reporter friend. 

“What are you doing here?” The Boss asked, their voice softer than it had been when shouting at the now dead s.o.b. 

“Blue? Is that you?” Piper couldn’t believe her eyes. It couldn’t be them. She’d been assured that they were dead. She’d been told they’d been a victim of the Boss. The other reason she was chasing the story. “I thought you were dead.” She choked out, nearly sobbing at this point. Sole shook their head. Piper snapped back to her senses. “Please tell me you’re not the Overboss. Please tell me what I saw wasn’t what I saw.” Sole’s eyes met the ground. “What did you get yourself into?" 

"Its me, I’m the Overboss and what you saw… You can’t tell anyone about it. Do you understand me, Piper?” Sole noticed the notepad in Piper’s hand. “Give it to me.” Piper shook her head. 

“You don’t scare me, Blue." 

"No? I know where Nat is. I know what she looks like. She’s make a great protege. Or maybe I’ll just kill her.” Sole shrugged. “Your choice.” Piper’s face scrunched up in disgust. 

“You wouldn’t. She’s a kid." 

"Do you really want to find out?” Sole threatened and Piper looked down at the ground. She tossed her notepad to the ground. 

“I can’t believe I ever trusted you. You’re a monster." 

"No. I’m just the Overboss. And you better remember that." 

Preston: Preston had been guarding the parameter to Sanctuary when he was grabbed, by heavily armed and armoured Raiders. He fought so hard to get them off but he couldn’t call for help. When he had managed to bite one of the raiders hands he had been knocked out with the butt of their pipe rifle. 

Preston slowly opened his eyes, blinking as he let his eyes adjust to the light shining in them. He tried to lift his arm only to find that he had been tied to a chair by tightly wrapped leather belts. He groaned as the pain in his head finally hit him. Where was he?

"This is the guy we got. The one who’s in charge of that big place we were telling you about.” A smug raider, clearly proud of himself, said with a beaming smile, nudging their bosses arm. He winced as he was slapped across the face. 

“Are you stupid?” Preston’s head snapped up as he heard that all familiar voice. He could not believe his eyes. What was Sole doing here? What was Sole doing surrounded by a bunch of disgusting vile people. “I said stay away from Sanctuary hills you idiot. Untie him. NOW.” Sole snapped, making the guy scurry forwards and quickly untie Preston’s bonds. “I’m so sorry about this.” Sole apologised as Preston stood up.

“How could you side with them?” Preston spat. Sole noticed the look of revulsion on his face. “You know what they are like. You know what they do to people and you’re here siding with them? After all we have built you’d throw it all away to be their ruler?” He looked down, shaking his head. 

“Preston. I told them to stay away from the Minutemen. I would never hurt our people.”

“MY people. You turned your back on us the minute you joined forces with these… things.” He sighed, “I’ll never forgive you for this." 

"Preston…” He pushed past Sole, tugging his arm away when Sole tried to reach for him. “Preston!” Sole called after him, but he was gone and he wouldn’t be turning back.

[missytearex]

Hi! So I’ve decided to do monthly recs instead of weekly recs from now on, which mean this list is kinda long, so I put all the under 10k fics under the cut, but be sure to check them out too! And remember to leave kudos and comments when you do ❤

Tired Tired Sea by @mediawhorefics — [fic post]

larry | 113k | mature

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

Not That Gone by @a-brighter-yellow --- [fic post]

larry | 61k | explicit

A few weeks after Louis and Harry, *ahem*, reconnect at their high school reunion, Harry temporarily moves back home. Louis isn't sure he has the emotional fortitude for a prolonged fling with the man of the dreams.

Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl — [fic post]

larry | 40k | explicit

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

I Just Want You to Stay by @sadaveniren --- [fic post]

larry | 34k | explicit

Louis and Harry have been roommates for four years, comfortable in their routine and their relationship. But all of that is about to change.

The Spaces Between Us by @justalittlelouislove — [fic post]

ziam | 33k | explicit

Liam is a ghost bound to nothing, feeling nothing. Until he finds Zayn and learns what it means to feel everything.

Give A Little Sing To The Singles by @londonfoginacup --- [fic post]

larry | 31k | teen and up

Harry Styles is an adult now, with a real adult job (and benefits! Whatever those are!). He spends his days at the copier. Copying things.

That being said, no one told Harry that being an adult came with a confusingly chaotic boss, a copier machine that would be hell-bent on ruining his life, and a coworker so good looking that Harry might just have to quit. After all, Christmas is coming and if their office doesn’t win the decorating contest, Louis has threatened to break several laws and kneecaps in retaliation.

Happy Christmas, here’s to many more.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

larry | 25k | not rated

every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

reach the stars by @disgruntledkittenface — [fic post]

horshaw | 19k | mature

Spring 2021. Four years after breaking up with Louis and moving to New York with his best friend Aimee, Nick runs into Niall and they start dating. When their relationship gets serious, Nick struggles to tell Niall how much he means to him.

Everything I Do by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 16k | explicit

the one where Harry finds a book of Elizabethan courtship rituals which sets in motion a series of events that can lead to only one conclusion.

High Heels, Red Dress by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 15k | explicit

Louis answers the call when Pearl Harbor is attacked and there is no way around it. The United States is at war. Hiding his queer identity isn't so hard until he attracts the attention of a particular soldier. It's all lies and secrets until the war is finally over. Maybe then Louis can finally have his happy ending. It's up to fate to decide.

when half spent was the night by @juliusschmidt --- [fic post]

larry | 14k | mature

Hi Harry,

I’ve skimmed your website and am interested in hiring you to be my doula. I’m 7 ½ months pregnant and not keen to do this whole labor and birth thing alone. After looking around, I thought you might be a good fit because you mention enjoying unusual people with unusual birth requests. I can meet up any day this week.

Lou

You are the feeling of drugs, pulling the chain of my love by @peujeune — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 10k | explicit

Louis gets bored with all the questions by the next week and tells everyone, in no uncertain terms, to fuck off, in a Facebook post he subsequently deletes the next day. Instead, he chooses to ignore all his friends.

And text Nick.

you’ve set my soul to dreaming by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed — [fic post]

larry | 9k | teen and up

Thirty year old Harry Styles goes to bed single on Christmas Eve, only to wake up on Christmas morning with a husband in his bed and a son down the hall.

The Truth I Can’t Explain (Smoke and Mirrors) by @fallinglikethis — [fic post]

larry | 9k | mature

Louis Tomlinson scans the horizon. It’s dark, but his werewolf eyes are equipped for that. He sees clearly in the inky black of the forest around them. He and every other wolf can see the moment the first blood mage crosses the boundary into their compound. The mages must think they’ve disabled the wards on the edges of the boundary but the wolves did that themselves when they found out the mages were coming. Louis’ pack has opened the door and put down the welcome mat. It’s up to the mages whether that mat becomes stained in blood.

on the same page by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 8k | mature

The one where Louis doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster by @lululawrence --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 7k | not rated

the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don’t exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Gingerbread Show Off by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 6k | general audiences

The Gingerbread Show Off is the biggest event of the year at Harry's still sort of new to him job, and when he's given a spot to compete in it he's beyond excited. When he realizes that he's going to be paired up with Louis, the man who's been sneakily stealing his ideas since almost their first day of working together, he's understandably frustrated.

He still wants to win, though, and he's not going to let his office enemy bring him down.

The Circle of Life is Not a Circle, it’s a Stick by @lounonymouse --- [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | teen and up

This is a story about Louis, his husband Nick, their daughter Ella, and her pet stick insect Mr Sticky McStick-Face.

B-Sides & C-Cuts by @bitter-leaf — [fic post]

shiall | 5k | teen and up

Niall’s stuck in Toronto the day before Christmas Eve. Shawn plans to make the most of it.

A Not So Silent Night by @lightwoodsmagic --- [fic post]

ziam | 5k | teen and up

Liam's had a crush on Zayn for months, every time they talk on the phone just making him grow fonder. He's just never met him in real life. When he finally gets to meet him, it turns out that he can't take his eyes off him dancing on the table at the bank's Christmas party. Especially when he starts taking off his sweater.

Summer Love by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 5k | teen and up

Summers at his lake house are Harry’s favorite time of the year. They’re treasured moments in time spent with Louis, his favorite person. The boy with the bluest eyes, the brightest smile and loudest laugh. Harry’s best friend for all of his summers. He’s gonna marry him someday. All that Louis needs to do is ask him - again.

my heart got caught on your sleeve by @foliealou  — [fic post]

tomlinshaw | 5k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson decides to come out: a story in three acts.

it's getting bluer (and you can't keep faking) by @dinoflangellate --- [fic post]

nessie | 4k | explicit

For a second, Niall can’t move, pinned in place by Bressie’s casual words. Get you sorted could mean so many things, things he wants, and his brain almost explodes.

I Knew From The First Time by Anonymous --- [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Harry spent weeks picking out a gorgeous ring, and months planning every little detail of the perfect anniversary trip to propose to Louis. Except it doesn't go as planned and the ring disappears.

Harry Styles Plays with Kittens While Answering Questions by @sadaveniren — [fic post]

larry | 4k | teen and up

Louis runs a Youtube channel and Harry is his celebrity guest

to love you in word and deed by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 4k | general audiences

Louis loves everything about living with Harry. Except for Harry’s effusive proposals. Because the problem is, it’s getting harder and harder for Louis to keep reacting like they’re jokes.

Roll the Dice by @allwaswell16 — [fic post]

larry | 3k | explicit

Louis has been in love with Harry since they were eighteen. It isn’t until Harry’s thirtieth birthday in Las Vegas that Louis must finally decide to either tell Harry how he feels or let him marry someone else.

molecular by @dinoflangellate — [fic post]

zouis | 3k | teen and up

The team pushes into the lab, jostling each other through the sliding glass doors. Eenie, meenie, miney, mo. There they are, the four of them, present and accounted for. Louis shoves his way in last, looking sweaty and triumphant, and the hand around Zayn’s heart finally unclenches.

Unto You by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

Louis is a lamplighter celebrating the saturnalia season in his own way.

Harry is heavily pregnant and new in the city.

The holiday of Christmas is yet to be created.

Brring Brring (that’s the land line) by Anonymous — [fic post]

larry | 3k | general audiences

Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles have been dating for six months and two weeks.

It’s one in the morning, and the phone rings.

Snowdrops and Mice Pops by @ohharold --- [fic post]

larry | 3k | teen and up

The boys are stuck at Hogwarts over Christmas incapable of taking the Hogwarts Express back to London. A botched together friends Christmas would have to do.

step into christmas by leighbot

zarry | 2k | general audiences

the one where Zayn's written a Christmas book for children and Harry brings his son to a local reading.

Oh Valley Girl by @londonfoginacup — [fic post]

larry | 2k | general audiences

Out past the rolling hills and the churning sea sits a little fishing village, nestled in a valley where its residents are protected from the elements, as well as from the outside world as a whole.

Harry lives in this little fishing village, and she loves nothing more than feeling the earth beneath her and seeing the sky above her and sometimes dreaming of adventure.

Then one day a ship arrives.

Tricks and Treats by @homosociallyyours --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | general audiences

wherein Louis receives a package not intended for him, Harry has a brilliant idea, and the two of them meet properly at a Halloween party.

Gratuitous puns, bone® jokes, and creepy neighbors abound!

This Is Halloween by @hadtobelou --- [fic post]

larry | 1k | explicit

Louis' Halloween doesn't go as planned.

Scarily Incompatible by soidiallednine 

larry | 666 | general audiences

Harry seems perfect for Louis. Lottie certainly thinks so. But one really scary choice by Harry will doom them before they start.

something weird (but it do look good) by @uhohmorshedios — [fic post]

larry | 666 | teen and up

Harry’s upset that Louis didn’t appreciate his attempt to put a very-Harry twist on a Halloween meme and Louis tries his best to make it up to him.

take my hand (i won’t let go) by @tempolarriefix — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

in which zayn and liam are in love, niall doesn’t want to third wheel, louis hates scary things, and harry works in a haunted house.

aka the ficlet haunted house meet-cute that you never knew you needed.

The Devil Went Down to Georgia by @kingsofeverything — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis just wants to fall in love for eternity.

the future reflected by @louandhazaf — [fic post]

larry | 666 | not rated

Louis didn’t take the stupid game seriously. Maybe he should’ve.

The Literal Gates of Hell by @evilovesyou — [fic post]

larry | 666 | general audiences

Louis has a passion for the supernatural and tends to drag his friends into his ghost and demon hunting adventures. His guardian angel isn’t too pleased when they set out to find one of the actual gates of hell.

You Win by @ziamhaze --- [fic post]

ziam | 666 | general audiences

Based off this AU: A werewolf finds a human who is strolling in the woods late at night, and just before the werewolf goes to attack the human, the human then starts to beat box and the werewolf is too intrigued to attack them.

I Still Follow by @smoke-flowers — [fic post]

zarry | 606 | general audiences

The sky is cloaked in black velvet, but he swears he sees stars.

[dumbfuck-mojave]

Companions React to Sole With Talkative Bird: Part 1

This is part one of a single ask. I just wanted to split it up since it would be long af otherwise. This react includes: Codsworth, Curie, Cait along with a short pre-war intro. Warnings for this part: Swearing (obviously) and brief mention of Cait’s drug abuse in one sentence. 

This was such a hilarious request how could I not start it (almost) immediately. Also, thank you for the request! If you enjoyed, feel free to request more!

For context, I did “two parts” to each react: A part where the companions first meet Sole and their bird and another general reaction to it being so talkative.  They aren’t exactly split up in a sense but I hope you get what I’m saying. I also didn’t really have a set focus on how long the certain “parts” were going to be so yeahhh 😅.

As the sirens blared, Sole looked helplessly around the house. 

“Sole, come on!” Their spouse yelled frantically, holding a fussing Shaun in their arms. But another fussing was heard from the room the two lovers shared. It would never be allowed, but Sole couldn’t just leave him there. Bolting to the room, they hurriedly unlocked the large cage in the corner, holding their hand out so their precious bird could climb on. 

“I don’t mean to rush but you three must hurry and go now!” Codsworth said, it almost sounded like there was a bit of nervousness in his tone. Sole rushed out into the living room once more. They looked at Codsworth.

“Codsworth, stay safe.” Sole said solemnly as their spouse rushed them to the door, somehow  either missing the bird or choosing to ignore it.

“Babe, they will never let you bring him in.” Sole’s spouse said as they ran up the hill.

“We already had to leave Codsworth, I couldn’t leave Comet too. He was screaming so loud, I just had too. I'll find a way to hide him, I’m sure of it. “

Astonishingly, Sole did find a way to hide the bird during the journey through Vault 111. Comet had to have appeared on the life monitor, but it was no use worrying about now,  were Sole’s thoughts as they lost their last slivers of consciousness. 

Sole was so grateful Comet managed to survive being cryogenically frozen and unfrozen twice, because after what they had seen, he was the only thing that was keeping them grounded. Stumbling their way through the now deserted Vault, bright light blinded them as they were brought to the surface after more than 200 years.

Codsworth: “Sole, you’re back!”, Codsworth shouted gleefully as he saw Sole walking towards Sanctuary, Comet perched on their shoulder.

“Hello Codsworth.”, Sole seemed to be in a dazed state as they continued to look around what was once a lively, vibrant neighborhood. 

“Well then, it’s to see you again! Comet is with you as well! Oh, that’s wonderful! May I ask, where are <spouse> and young master Shaun? They mustn’t be late for dinner.... Again. You do know how your spouse loved to take Shaun on walks. I remember-”

“Codsworth, please. Did you see them? The people that took Shaun? They must have passed through here right?”

“Oh, you always were a jokester, weren’t you? Unless…. You’re serious? Oh heavens!” Codsworth waved his arms around frantically, “Then what has happened to your dear spouse?”

“They’re dead, Codsworth. I need to go find out who killed them, and find Shaun. Do you know of anywhere that could help me?”

“Well, there is the town of Concord over the bridge. It’s a bit of a walk but you may be able to find some help there.”

“Ok, that’s where I’ll start. I just- I think I need to sit down for a moment.” Sole suddenly gasped, gently holding their hand to their chest. Comet snuggled his beak into the side of their head.

“Gracious, come inside at once.” Codsworth led them into their pre-war house and sat them down on the couch, “I will try to find you something to fill your stomach, not eating for two hundred years must have left you famished!”

Sole blankly stared down. How could this be? Had it really been 200 years? Who had taken Shaun? And why? So many questions rushed through their mind as Comet made his way from their shoulder to their open hands. 

“Hey!” Comet chirped and whistled, looking up and Sole. Sole looked up at Comet with glistening eyes, weakling lifting their free hand to pet him on the head. After a few moments, Comet hopped off and flew into the back of the house. 

“Um, mum/sir? I do apologize, but I can’t quite seem to find anything that would give you a full meal.” Codsworth floated back into the house and hovered in front of Sole, “Are you okay?”

Sole looked up, startled and focusing on the present once more, “That’s okay Codsworth. Thank you for trying anyways.” 

“I think your spouse was planning on giving this to you as a gift before everything happened.” Codsworth extended his claw to drop a holotape in Sole’s hand.”, My protocol prevents me from listening to it, but I think it’s a message for you.” 

Sole flipped the tape over in their hands, running their pointer finger along the ridged edge. Hi Honey was written in slanted handwriting on a small piece of paper attached to one side, a few ink spots splattered around it. Sole’s hands tightened around it as they felt more sobs grow in their chest. Whatever they were going to do after that was interrupted by Comet flying back into the room, landing on the scratched-up island in the middle of the kitchen. Comet jumped up and down, aggressively shaking his favorite toy: A small ball with a bell trapped inside it. Both Codsworth and Sole stared at him. 

“I always told you you never should have gotten that for him. He went on and on with that thing during the night.” Codsworth sighed exasperatedly. Oh, of course Codsworth remembered Comet from before the war. Comet was with Sole long before Codsworth was, so they’ve known each other  since the day Codsworth was booted up. 

What he did not expect was how talkative the bird was going to be. Comet always seemed to be saying something and at first Codsworth thought Comet was going to only say compliments and affections. Whether Comet was complimenting Sole while on their shoulder or talking to Sole’s spouse through the cage, it was always the sweetest little things. He even complimented Codsworth, calling him “Pretty Codsy” as he perched on one of Codsworth’s eyes. Sole told Codsworth Comet probably picked it up from them calling him Codsy offhandedly and Comet’s preference for compliments. It’s not like Codsworth minded, it even gave him a small boost of confidence being complimented so frequently. 

But Comet had a preference for something else. One day, while  Codsworth was cleaning the living room, Comet flew in and promptly called Codsworth a “Fucking rustbucket”. Codsworth stopped in shock the same way he did when one of the neighbor's called him that earlier that day. It was probably where he learned such a vile saying. From that point forward, Codsworth slowly learned to deal with it. Comet was just repeating phrases he had heard, no matter if it was vicious insults or heartfelt compliments. And even though he would never admit it, Codsworth did feel some joy after hearing Comet tell a raider to fuck off.

Curie: When Comet flew past the window into Curie’s room, she almost couldn’t believe it.

“Is that an African Grey Parrot?” Curie asked in her gentle voice and she moved to the window, “How did such a thing ever get down here?”

“Is someone in there?” Sole’s voice echoed down the hall as Comet flew back and sat on their head. 

“Oh! A human! Finally. I have been waiting so long for you to come.” Curie gasped, “Please tell me you are authorized to release me.” 

“I’m not a person from Vault-Tec. Why do you need me to release you, why can’t you do it yourself?” Sole asked. 

“I am not authorized to do so without written or verbal permission from a Vault-Tec representative. Are you authorized to release me? Please say yes.”

“Yes!” Comet harped on top of Sole’s head. Sole sighed exasperatedly while Comet looked down at them, waiting for a treat. Sole held up their arm so he could climb down on it and put a seed ball in their hand for him to grab.

“You now what? Whatever. I’m authorized to let you out. So you may come out.” Sole flatly said. 

“Oh this is great news indeed!” Curie replied eagerly,” I will open the door for you at once” 

As the door slid open, Curie held out a vial to Sole.

“I am pleased to report I finished all my duties 83 years ago. The molerats were infected with a variety of pathogens and this was made as a cure-all formula. Quite amazing, is it not? Do be careful where you use this though, as it is the only one left and I do not have the materials to make more.” 

“Alright, thank you!” Sole smiled as they took the cure. They had taken extra steps to prevent getting bitten by the rabid molerats travelling through the Vault and it worked. Now all they had to do was get it back to the main part and give it to Austin, “ Would you like to come with me back to the Vault?”

“I very much would, monsieur/madame. I haven’t been out of that room for ages.” 

“Let’s get going then.” Sole nodded, setting off towards the stairs.

As they were drawing close to the exit, Curie couldn’t help but stare and the bird perched on Sole’s shoulders. 

“May I ask where you got your bird? I have not seen one for a very long time and a healthy Parrot no less! You must take good care of them.”

“Oh!” Sole laughed, “I’ve been with this guy a long time. I’ve had him about five/six years now.”

“He seems to trust you very much. If it is possible, I would like to take a closer look at his habits when we get out of this place.” 

“You fucker!” Comet squawked as Curie finished her sentence. 

“Mon Dieu! That is so rude!” Curie puffed, hovering a few inches upward. 

“I’m sorry! He doesn’t mean anything by it, I think, he just repeats things he’s heard.” Sole faltered as Comet gleefully said fuck over and over, “ I may have a swearing problem to work on.”

“African Grey parrots are very intelligent, so it isn’t surprising that he picked up so many words.” Curie explained, “ Not to say that was called for.” 

“I swear, he’s a really sweet bird. Comet, you’re nice aren’t you?”Sole turned to their bird, “Come on, isn’t Curie nice?” 

“Very nice!”, Comet twittered, bouncing up and down, “Pretty voice, woo-hoo!” 

“Oh, why thank you! My vocal pattern and accent is unique to me, designed by one of the scientists that used to be here, Mr. Collins!”  

As talked about, Curie did examine Comet when they got back into Vault 81. Sole knew their bird was very much an attention hog and chuckled as Comet sat pridefully when Curie gently observed him. Comet took a liking to Curie fairly quickly and complimented her frequently. When she finally got her synth body, Comet immediately flew to her and snuggled his head against her cheek. Though she enjoyed the compliments, Comet would scream out a random curse word from time to time, startling Curie. She mostly was just excited there was a living, breathing parrot for her to interact and study with. 

Cait: “Holy fuck!” A raider screamed, right before choking on his own blood. 

As a gunfight started, Cait looked out of the metal cage to see a shadowed figure ripping apart raiders with an assault rifle. 

“Cait! Keep your head down!” Tommy whispered as he crouched in the corner.

“Oh shove off, you coward.”

“Yeah, bitch!”

Both Cait and Tommy looked at the bird that landed in the cage with confusion. Even more confusion followed when the shadowy figure stepped into the cage, the parrot immediately flying to them.  

“Hey, buddy! What’s the deal with you killing all my customers?” Tommy scoffed at Sole, who seemed mildly displeased that they had gotten so much blood on their skin.

“Um, I just saved your life. You should be grateful that those raiders didn’t start in-fighting before I got here.” 

“Yeah, bitch!”

“Comet, hush,” Sole rubbed their bird’s head with a calloused thumb, “What even is this place anyway?”

“Not from around these parts, huh? This, my bird whispering friend, is the Combat Zone.” Tommy opened his arms a bit at the now empty theater, “It was a raider fighting hotspot until you decided to clear the house.” 

The wheels turned in Tommy’s head and when he turned back around you could almost envision the light bulb popping up. Ding!

“So, you saw the end of my little bird’s fight, correct? How’d you like it?”

“God Dammit Tommy! I told you to stop calling me that.” 

“It was very impressive.” Sole turned towards Cait, “ You are a very capable fighter.”

Cait slapped her palms against her thighs, then up in the air, “Finally, someone with some appreciation.” 

“Listen, I might appreciate more if you didn’t keep plunging that junk into your arm. You’re high right now, aren’t you!” Tommy said angrily.

“Why do you care!? It helps me bring in the caps, doesn’t it? Shouldn’t matter how I do it!”

“It’s making you sloppy Cait!” Tommy said exasperatedly, “You know what? Let’s make a deal. Since I’m not bringing in any caps at the moment and you think Cait here is a capable fighter, why don’t you take her off my hands while I try to figure out a new business strategy.”

“Only if she agrees to it.” 

“She’ll agree to it once she figures out we got no audience, no caps, and no one else to talk to but me.” 

“Jesus, point taken,” Cait huffed, turning to Sole, “Let’s get out of here before I change my mind.” 

Once out on the road again, Cait started asking questions about Comet.

“So, where the hell did you get something like that?”

“Comet? Oh, I got him before the war.”

“You what?”

Sole smiled, “It’s a long story to be honest.” 

Comet jumped off of Sole’s shoulder onto their bag, reaching inside to grab at his bell. He started rattling it aggressively in Cait’s direction. 

“Oh, that means he likes you!” Sole piped in. 

“Well if you don’t quit that rattling I’m about to take that bell away from you.” Cait growled as the rattling got louder and faster.

Sole, not wanting to piss off Cait more, gently pried the bell from Comet’s beak and put it back in the bag. 

“You’re beautiful, woo-hoo!” Comet swayed back and forth on Sole’s arms, nodding his head to an imaginary beat. 

“Come on, Cait. He’s just trying to impress you.” Sole pushed, bobbing their arm up and down to match Comet’s dance. 

“The day I take a compliment from a critter is the day I give up the last shred of decency I have.”

Though it took awhile, Cait eventually got used to Comet’s presence. She would never show it, but she was actually a bit scared of him at first. The first time Comet got on her shoulder she nearly slapped him off out of fear, if it wasn’t for Sole swooping in and calming her down. But during her withdrawals, when she felt too nauseous to even stand up, Comet let her pet his head softly, crooning a soft tune. That changed something in Cait. Now you wouldn’t even know Cait was scared of birds at first, as she handles him like a pro. She still doesn’t like him, so don’t even think that *wink wink*. 

[amazinglyegg]

Fallout 4 Companions (+ the dlc ones pls) react to finding out the sole survivor is actually a God? (Like Loki or smth) Maybe ss shows off their God powers and keeps making jokes about how being decapitated for witchcraft is not fun at all, and such the like?

Oh man this one’s fun! I’m sorry if the DLC characters (especially Ada and Gage) are OOC because I don’t have Nukaworld or Automatron yet :’)

Fallout 4 Companions React: Sole is a God

Cait: “Yeah, okay, and I’m fucking Santa Clause - hoLY SHITE”. Wouldn’t believe you until you really show her your abilities, still finds it hard to believe because what the fuck. Probably a bit intimidated by your strength but will never show it. She doesn’t appreciate being out-shined in battle, and responds to most of your jokes like “Yeah, yeah, stop rubbing it in.”

Codsworth: I’d like to think he’d just acts as if it’s normal. Like, whatever in his training/program teaches him not to treat people differently for how they look or act, so he just kinda roles with it. When Sole shoots lightning down from the sky or whatever he’ll cheer them on like they just made a good sniper shot. Sole: Yeah being tied up and thrown in a lake in 1856 wasn’t very fun :( Codsworth: Aha, I can only imagine! Such a life you have... Everyone else: w-what

Curie: Very torn. On one hand, she’s an atheist, and would doubt you’re really a God at first (”My scientific notes say nothing about the existence of higher beings!”) but also... the proof is right in front of her. At first she may try summing it up to radiation or something similar, but after a while of studies and tests she’ll come to realize that the only logical conclusion is... well, you’re truly a God. Easy to change her mind once she has enough time to study you, she won’t try to deny facts, and trusts you easily.

Danse: He knows what to do when it comes to ghouls and synths, but Elder Maxson has never said anything about GODS. He’ll talk to Maxson before giving you the rank of initiate, maybe just a bit scared of your power. Once he gets to know you I feel like he may be a bit... jealous? Like, you don’t need to train or work out at all, just a snap of your fingers and your enemies are dead. He may try to persuade you to kill people “the Brotherhood way” when you’re out doing a mission together, especially if you usually use your powers on weaker enemies.

Deacon: Holy shit!! That’s cool, man. He may not believe your a God, per say, but whatever those powers are, they’re cool, so he’ll roll with it. Maybe not the best for blending in, but you’re a literal God, so who cares. He’ll take it in stride, probably shoves it in other peoples faces like “Yeah, my besties a God, so what?” He’ll probably pretend he’s a God as well, and go along with all the jokes and stories you tell. No wonder he wanted you to join the Railroad.

Hancock: You’ll shapeshift or something and he’ll be like “haha holy shit were my drugs laced with something?” and then you’ll snap your fingers and Finn will just, explode, and he’ll be like “oh fuCK”. He thinks you are So. Cool, cheers you on during battle, always wants to see your powers (as long as you’re using them for good.) Probably makes comments about you being his new bodyguard while travelling together, or you being Goodneighbors guardian angel. Likes it when the two of you get into a bit of mischief.

MacCready: Probably terrified, lets be honest. He wouldn’t believe you as you tell jokes and may even get annoyed at your persistence to this dumb God story, but once you show him your power he’ll be a bit scared for his life. I mean, why would you hire a mercenary when you’re a literal GOD!? Once you two become friends he’ll find it amazing, “like a real life Grognak!” A little annoyed if you keep stealing his kills, though

Nick: “Welp, I may need to re-evaluate my religion.” He’ll believe you once you show an example of your power, but he’s shocked and honestly finds it all pretty ridiculous, shrugs it off as impressed. He likes it when you talk about your past (mis)adventures, and likes watching you use your powers. Like Hancock, may make guardian angel jokes, and he takes the jokes you make in good faith once he gets used to them.

Piper: “Haha, okay, nice magic trick, blue. I can’t even see the strings holding you up or something. There’s no way you can really fly... right?” It would take a long time of questioning and having to show proof before she believes you, she keeps trying to find the “secret” behind all your “magic tricks”. Once you’ve successfully proved it to her, though, she is so amazed. Asking for details on all your powers, how you’ve used them, watch out what you say because she will put anything in the papers if you’re not careful.

Preston: I feel like there’d be a bit of child-like amazement; Think of Prestons' quotes while flying a vertibird for example. He may be a bit nervous at first but once he knows you use your powers for good he just asks you don’t abuse them too much. Probably a bit jealous. Asks so many questions about your past and your immortality, any joke you tell will result in you giving him a history lesson.

Strong: Could you turn a supermutant religious? Probably not. But he’s never seen anyone stronger than a supermutant before, so he’s pretty damn amazed. Makes you leader, but doesn’t really like it if you use your powers to, lets say snap someone out of existence. He prefers you using super strength or something similar to make a bloody mess, anything else makes his head hurt. Tells his brothers about you, but chances are they wouldn’t believe him.

X6-88: “This... shouldn’t be scientifically possible.” If Shaun doesn’t have any of these powers X6 would be very... perturbed. He may talk you into getting medical evaluations at the Institute, anything to try to explain your powers. If Shaun does have some form of these powers he will be so hyped to travel with you. “Nice one, sir / ma’am / Mx” “You’re more terrifying than a courser”. I don’t think he responds to jokes normally, so chances are he’d just be awkwardly quiet if you tell them.

Ada: “That is quite the feat, sir / ma’am / mx”. She would try to act formal and brush it off, but she would be so bewildered at every new power. Probably ends up being like “So how do you do it? I mean, there has to be some sort of logical explanation...” It will take a while for her to believe you’re a God.

Gage: “Shit, boss. That’s... holy shit.” Probably the “mark me down as scared AND horny” meme, he’s impressed and excited that the overboss has this much power, but also at the same time the overboss has THIS much power. Maybe too much power? He’ll try not to get on your bad side - if any old raider will kill you for looking at them the wrong way, what will YOU do?

Old Longfellow: Refuses to believe any jokes/stories you tell, at best just laughs them off and at worst starts to think you’ve gone a bit mad due to the fog. He’s been alive for too long to be tricked by anything like tha- did you just pick up a car!? He’s skeptical at first like “Are you sure you’re not fucking with me?” but he really can’t deny what’s right in front of him. Doesn’t really know how or if to compliment you other than a “holy shit”