#Nick valentine fic

[trashmouth-critter]

Someone made a real mess of you, didn’t they?

“someone made a real mess of you, didnt they?” he cupped her face and looked at her with such empathy

“mr. Valentine…” as she spoke his name, her smudged red lipstick glistened in the pale lights that were cast from the old third rail sign.

her green eyes were glistening, he got lost in the softness of her words, the darkness of her smudged mascara and the imperfections of her black eyeliner made her undeserving of this cruel world that had painted that scar across her gorgeous face.

as she looked at him, as he ran his hand across her cheek there were a million things she wanted to say to him, but nothing seemed to fit and in that moment, as he showed her such delicate compassion she realized she could never want to leave again.

(Can you tell i only read classical literature? Cuz I never feel like I can write anything remotely modern)

[baddieladdie]

Valentine - Part IV

Part III

Part II

Part I

Rating: PG-13

TW: PTSD

Police Precinct 8: Nick Valentine and Nora, the Sole Survivor from Vault 111, are taking inventory of the items found and the radroach carcasses that littered the crumbling remains of the station

“Alright, this is one of Eddie’s tapes alright. The eighth one, if I’m not mistaken.”

Nora and Nick stand in an opened jail cell in the lower level of Police Precinct 8.

“That means all that’s left is holotape 5,” Nick sighed tiredly, holstering his pistol. “The only place left to look is Nahant Sheriff department.”

“Let’s head there next,” Nora agreed, stuffing a few remaining items into her backpack. “I did find something here on the Shrouded Manor. Some undercover officer was supposed to meet her superiors at the Warren Theater. Maybe we can check it out on our way back.”

“Sure, Sure” Nick mumbled, his mind lost in traumatic memories of Eddie Winter. The layers of human flesh he saw in Jenny. The bullet ripped right through her. She never stood a chance and Nick couldn’t stop it.

Nora swung her backpack on and turned to face Nick, surprised he wasn't already leading the way.

"You feeling alright, Nicky?" She asked worriedly.

"Just fine, doll." Nick pulled a preserved cigarette from the carton he kept in the front pocket of his patched trench coat. Nora swiped a few cigarette cartons from the Institute for Nick. She knew he'd appreciated non-radiated ones. Truth be told, she didn't know why or how he smoked, only that he did so often. Perhaps to upkeep the appearance of a hard-boiled detective. "Gotta look the part" as he said.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it? You’ve been lost in thought more than usual lately. Is it because only one of Eddie’s holotapes remains? It’s okay if you’re having second thoughts.”

“No!” Nick took a deep breath, soothing himself. In a softer tone, he repeated. “No. Not when we’re this close. Eddie Winter will pay for his crimes and the commonwealth will be a safer place without him in it.” He took a long drag off the lit cigarette, glowing ashes falling to the ground.

“Nicky,” Nora spoke with a voice so delicate and soft, he was just barely able to pick it up. She wrapped a warm hand around his exposed, metal skeleton. For a long silence, she stood there, eyes cast down, stroking the frigid metal of his hand. “You don’t need to pretend around me. I know you’re hurting. You don’t have to tell me about what you are feeling or experiencing, but I want you to ask me for help if you need it. You shouldn’t have to face this alone. I’m right here, by your side….partner.” She raised her eyes to meet his gaze. Tears had welled in her eyes, teetering over her water line and falling down her flushed cheeks.

“But I’m a synth, Nora. I don’t have ‘feelings’. After all, I’m not human.”

“Poppycock!” Nora choked out. “You’re more human than most. You feel, think, love, and provide for the people of the Commonwealth. More than most flesh and blood humans out there. There’s more to being human than having a pulse.”

“I-” Nick swallowed the emotions building with him. Smoke danced lightly around his face, rising in the air. “Thank you, Nora. You’re a real good friend and the best damn partner I’ve ever had.” He lifted her chin with a free finger, his others balancing the cigarette. He slowly leaned down, kissing her warm lips in the chilly remains of the precinct. The wetness of her tears added a slickness to the kiss. He gently pulled away and cleared his throat.

“At this rate, we're going to have to put your name up on signs for the agency.” He stubbed out the cigarette on the cement walls, ashes sprinkling down. “Time to hit the road again? Get back to the hunt for Eddie Winter?” He asked, desperate to change the conversation and get back to cracking his biggest case yet.

“You sure you’re up to this? We can take a break if you’d like. I could take someone else to get the last holotape from Nahant Sheriff department.” Nora offered sympathetically.

“Traveling the wastes with you? Why…I wouldn't miss it for the world. Come on, sweetheart. We got a fair amount of ground to cover before nightfall.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Nahant Sheriff department; Nick Valentine  and Nora, the sole survivor, regroup after taking out the Super Mutants that had holed up there

“Clever, Nick.” Nora wiped the warm, thick green blood off her face and shook it off her fingers. “Supermutants really don’t see well at night. I don’t think they saw us coming.”

“Super Mutants sure make it easy to forget they were ever human.” Nick groaned in disgust, noticing the blood stains on his coat. “Never been a fan of their hospitality.”

Nora pulled some medicine from her bag, desperate for relief after the tussle. Valentine wandered about the ruins, searching each desk for the last remaining holotape Eddie Winter left. Swaggering, cocksure prick. His overconfidence will be his reckoning.

Valentine groaned at the foul stench of raw meat rotting in the open air. “Something I always wondered about Mutants... What's with the bags of meat? What the hell's the use of a meat bag?” Would he dare search within them for the holotape? Could one of those stupid brutes have known the value of it?

Nick sighed in frustration, turning about - scanning for clues.

In the corner of his eye - he registers a small bit of orange against a rusted steel desk top.

"Ha! Found ya!" He emoted loudly, delighting in his skillful eye. "You're days are numbered, Winter." He pocked the last of the tapes.

"Let me run 'em through the old processor. I bet they've still got the code pieces in 'em." Nick commented as he walked down the stairs of the station where Nora waited for him. Got it! One, nine, five, three, seven, two, eight, four, zero, six. That old thug's holed up in Andrew Station. Now let's go bring down Eddie Winter."

"Nick, Wait."

"Hm?"

"How about some other time? We passed this long winding driveway on our way here. I want to check it out. Please.

"Sure. It's waited this long…" Nick sighed. "But once we check it out, I say we pay 'ol Winter a visit. He's got hell to pay and I make good on my debts"

"Alright tough guy," Nora teased, slapping his back playfully. "It's late anyway. You may not need sleep, but I do. We've been traveling for almost a day now."

Nick stuffed his hands in his pockets, following just behind her.

--------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note: If you want to read more of my work, here's a LINK to my AO3 author page <3

[rad-roche]

post-timeskip nick. unfortunately his trip to acadia is turning into a 'using your own intestinal wiring as an arm sling' kind of week

[leavingautumn13]

wip

[typecastwritesssss]

okay so. the thing about deacon railroad is that underneath all the lies, there is a complex character capable of introspection, seriousness, and genuine moments of human connection in a fundamentally broken world.

but also the thing about deacon is that he’s fully capable of just. projecting cartoon sound effects in a thirty-foot radius around himself. at any time. hanna-barbera bongo running. slide whistle pratfalls. that one scream from tom and jerry. all of it. this is a completely objective factual take backed up by lore i swear—

[fallout-fucker]

Fallout 4 really coulda made the 'Living by the sea' vibes so terrifying. Of course, people know of mirleurks and stuff. But what about the things they don't know about. The fear of the unknown.

We know that sea life was also affected by radiation. We've seen the size of a mirelurk queen. We know that sharks exist from the corpses.

So. How do we know megalodons aren't back in the Falloutverse. Or krakens don't exist. Sea life enlarged and at an unimaginable scale, unknown to the survivors of humanity as they lurk beneath the waters.

What if Sole had been told not to cross the ocean to Far Habour. What if there's a reason that, after 200 years, no one has brought back voyager boats and sailing the oceans to reconnect the world. What if they know better. Or maybe they realise they don't know anything at all.

What if Sole set up a nice base at Spectacle Island, and is confused when Hancock refuses to see it. Sole jokes that he's paranoid, but he reminds them he grew up on the waterfront. He helped his dad fish when he was younger. Boats don't scare him. The water doesn't scare him.

"It's what's in it," He explained coldly. He sat down in the sand, shotgun in his arms. Sole asked him to elaborate, he said he couldn't. "You wanna go after the Institute, fine. I'll help. That's an unknown I can handle. But, I ain't getting in that boat, and neither should you."

"I'll...Ask someone else."

"Can it be Danse?"

Sole thought he was being dramatic but quickly realised that none of the companions were keen to travel across the water.

There was that time Sole once jumped off the Prydwen and into the deep sea, so far from shore, only to hear a guttural noise around them. They couldn't see anything. The water dark blue, and filthy, almost black from when the world was scorched. But whatever it was, it was large enough that its voice vibrated through their entire being. They convinved themself it was a whale. They know whales don't sound like that.

On the days Sole is at the castle, they like to look out at the ocean. Or did, until today when they saw a large boat in the distance become capsized. They almost sent their own boats out to help, but Preston placed a firm hand on their shoulder. His eyes told Sole everything he wouldn't. Preston's not the type to let people die. So, Sole turned the radio up so none of the other soldiers could hear the distant screams for help and distress calls. And to drown out their own guilt, watching as the last fisherman attempted to swim desperately to shore, only to be dragged down below the waves. Sole didn’t look away until the boat finally sank. When they did, their eyes landed on the East Wall, which was under reconstruction from when the mirelurk queen had emerged. Sole wonders if that was even the largest sea creature out there.

When Sole's getting ready for bed, Preston knocks at their door gently. "Even I can admit when something is a lost cause," There was a guilt dripped into his tone. A silent apology to the fallen men. "I'll tell our guys to stay out of the water for a few days. We can rely on the nets for fish."

"We should set up a limit for how far out our boats can go."

"We will. Tomorrow. For now, get some rest." He's halfway to closing the door when Sole speaks again.

"I jumped off of the Prydwen once..."

"Excuse me?"

"I was fine. I wanted to go into the water. I did."

"Excuse me?"

"I couldn't see anything. But I heard something. I felt the sound go through me. I think it was a whale."

"Think or hope?" Sole doesn't say anything. Preston gets his answer regardless. "Was it close to you or do you think it was fine?"

"Think or hope," Sole mirrors. "I don't know. It was large."

"That seems to be a theme with the ocean."

"...Is that why no one has tried to cross the ocean again in 200 years? I thought...I thought there'd be pirates again out there. Or something. That massive wooden ships had made a comeback somewhere."

"I can't say. For all we know, maybe people have tried." Sole doesn't want to think about the connotations of that.

"No one wanted to go to Spectacle Island."

"I'm sure it looks nice but...To be honest, neither would I. I'm Sorry."

"It's fine. I get it now...I don't think I do anymore, for a while...John wouldn't get in the boat."

"Hancock...Is a smart man. Sometimes."

"Sometimes? You're saying that to the person that jumped off of the Prydwen."

"True, you do make Hancock look like Einstein."

"Thank God people still know Einstein," Sole mumbles. "John's smarter than he let's on."

"He once showed up to my door, drunk, asking if I thought Nick had a penis. Then, if he did, if it could be classed as a vibrator. I refused to answer or ask the context for why he wanted to know."

"...On that note, goodnight Preston."

"Goodnight, Sole."

Sole stares at the ceiling as they try to sleep that night. The sound of the waves crashing against the walls keeps them awake.

[boltlightning]

do you need someone, do you need a new me?

Once-Paladin Danse joins the Minutemen. fallout 4, post-blind betrayal, a handful of missing scenes. one-shot, ~2k words

Danse does not know how to answer that. “It — it smells. The water.”

“…yes.”

“But does it actually smell?” Danse leans back, glancing aside at Preston, who crouches curiously beside. “Am I merely experiencing the olfactory sensors using processing power to tell a chip that it smells? Do I like the smell, or am I remembering that I liked it? Did I make this call? Did someone else?”

Preston wrinkles his nose — a very human gesture. Even before the revelation, Danse had been told he did not emote near as much as his comrades. He assumes this observation would count among those offenses and quietly tucks it away for himself.

“It smells,” Preston declares, “and you’re thinking way too hard about this, Danse. Everyone’s got sensors and processors and all that, just…made of different material.”

(read on ao3!)

[hannibalfan15]

I finished Cohen’s section in one sitting a few days ago and now I’m OBSESSED with this HOMO. I lobve him…….. guys check out my pet freak *cuts to well dressed man staring at the camera* *that one post*

[rosemaryreaper]

Where was Nick when Hancock evacuated the Diamond City ghouls to Goodneighbor?

Back in September, I started working on a fic that covered exactly that…then I tossed it aside because I thought it was bad. But now I actually want to finish it. It’s a short Nick POV fic that follows the three days before McDonough passes the Anti-Ghoul decree. Also featured are Ellie, Security Captain Lennie Sullivan, and a still human Hancock. Here’s a snippet from Chapter 2, which is the night before everything goes to hell.

* * * *

In the end, there was nothing to be done but wait. Ellie returned with more than enough documents to fit the bill, and after another round through the line, the guard let him through with minimal hostility. When he tried to subtly linger to keep an eye on things, Security threatened to shoot him for loitering, so there was no choice but to return to the office. Lennie never returned. Neither did many of the ghouls.

Convincing his old circuit board of a brain to focus on work after that morning was difficult, but it didn’t change the fact that he still had a half dozen interconnected missing persons cases on his desk. Sitting around doing nothing wasn’t going to help anyone, ghoul or missing girl, so the least they could do was be productive with the spare time. He got Ellie to bring out what she had dubbed “the conspiracy board”—a big map of the Commonwealth they had pinned to a corkboard—and the two of them spent the afternoon moving around colored pins and strings, trying to work out which route the traffickers were using to smuggle these girls around the state.

“Think Bunker Hill could be a stopover?” Ellie asked, tapping her fingernail on a red circle to the northeast.

“They’d have to go through Goodneighbor first,” Nick said.

“I don’t doubt it. Sounds like the sort of business Vic’s gang would get mixed up in. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s responsible for this whole horrible trade.”

“Still could be a third party. Or a bit of both. We won’t know till we learn more.” He paused. “But I wouldn’t be surprised either.” He added another pin to the board. “If they’re using Bunker Hill, then they aren’t the only party stashing that particular kind of cargo there overnight. I have a contact I can talk to, see if his guys have noticed any odd goings on.”

“Sounds promising,” Ellie said.

“Let’s hope so. This is one trail I absolutely do not want to leave to get cold.”

Arturo was the neighborhood tourist. Nick would have to catch him alone sometime soon; ask him to get a message through to Deacon and his crew. If anyone was an expert on smuggling people through the Commonwealth undetected, it was the Railroad.

The door screeched open, and a choked sob tumbled through its frame. Violet shuffled in, fully weeping within Riley’s embrace. To her, Riley said, “Here, sweetheart, let’s just sit down for a spell, okay?” To the rest of the room, she said, “I’m going to fucking kill someone.”

“Oh, Violet.” Ellie rushed to grab a blanket from the bedroom. “Here, have a seat, honey.” While Riley lowered Violet into the cushioned chair, Ellie wrapped the blanket around the poor ghoul.

Jax stumbled out of the bedroom, bleary-eyed and in their undershirt, which had rolled up to expose their bandages. “Vi? What happened?”

Riley’s brows shot up. “What the hell happened to you?”

“New exercise regime,” Jax said.

“Jesus Christ,” Riley said. “Somebody jumped you.”

“What?” Violet gasped through tears.

“It’s nothing, Vi,” Jax said. “What’s wrong?”

Violet let out another sob. “I’ve never been s-so humiliated.”

“Oh no,” Ellie said. “They didn’t accept any of your papers?”

“None! The boys and I tried everything. Yefim even tried to draw up something last minute, but they wouldn’t take any of it! Now I’m going to lose everything—my home, my job. I won’t survive outside the Wall, not for a night.” She bowed her head and cried.

Ellie yanked open the drawers of her desk, pulling out a whole stack of handkerchiefs and a mug, the latter of which she filled from the coffee thermos. She murmured to Violet, out of even Nick’s broad earshot, until she could convince her to hold the mug in her hands. Nick sent a silent thanks to fate that he had hired her. He had been about to say something a hell of a lot more blunt.

“Nonhumans,” Riley snarled. “Nonhumans! We’re not another species. We’re not animals. I have half a mind to march up to the Stands right now—kick down doors until I find every councilman responsible. They want to see feral? I’ll show them feral.”

Nick said, “You’ll get yourself shot.”

“I’ll get myself shot outside too. This way will be quicker.”

Jax said, “None of our lot are getting shot outside if I can help it. Not if they stick with me.”

“Oh, look, it’s the ghoul savior,” Riley deadpanned. “Right now, if I had to bet on who would win in a fight, you or a mole rat, I’d back the mole rat.”

“It’s not all hopeless, is it?” Ellie asked, rubbing Violet’s back. “Some ghouls still managed to vote. Riley, you did.”

Riley scowled. “I did, barely, because I’m fortunate. They gave us no warning, no time to get our papers in order—and a lot of ghouls didn’t. Screw all the drifters, I guess.”

Nick could sense Jax giving him a look out of the corner of his eye. One of the “I told you so” variety. Ellie was giving him a different kind of look. One that placed far too must trust in his nonexistent ability to overcome the odds. You can do something, Nicky. Right?

Nick could do something. He could turn his investigation towards the city, root out who was pulling the strings—who had organized the guards, who had influenced the Council, who had to benefit from all the chaos. It would take time, but he was nothing if not persistent. His joints hadn’t rusted to a halt yet.

But the ghouls didn’t have time. They had tonight. The proverbial nuke had already been launched. Catching the crook here wouldn’t save anyone until after there was no one left to be saved. So, Nick would do something all right: he would shield them from the blast best he could and help those who survived out of the debris. No more. No better.

“Jax is working on an escape route,” Nick said. “I’ve been scrounging up supplies. You need something—help organizing a caravan, a spare gun, anything—you say the word.”

The room calmed, but not in a comfortable way. The room calmed in the same way a snake calms when it is too cold to move. Violet had quieted. Jax looked determined; Riley grim. Ellie turned her face away.

Jax crossed over to Violet, offering her a hand up. “Come on, Vi. Why don’t we get you back to the Dugout? You look like you could use something stronger than coffee.”

Violet accepted, sniffling, and they slipped an arm around her shoulders. With a quiet murmur of thanks to Nick, she and Jax made their exit. Riley didn’t follow. She gazed down at the empty chair, then up at Nick with that grim expression. She stalked forward, and he froze, startled, as she threw her arms around him.

Most folks weren’t lining up to give the metal man hugs. It wasn’t the kind of relationship he had with Ellie, who was technically his employee, and it wasn’t something he would ever initiate with a client, no matter how distraught. He was hyper aware of his own strength as he lifted his arms, and they hung suspended for too long as he tried to recall the last time he had calibrated them. He briefly considered blacking out to run a quick diagnostic.

But the moment had already gone on too long, and something of the old Nick kicked in. He rested his hands on her back.

“Hey now, Doc, this isn’t like you,” he said with something like humor.

Riley chuckled, with something a little less like humor. “Just saying thank you, gumshoe—for everything. In case I don’t get the chance to.” She pulled away. “I could use a drink too. Might as well celebrate my last night, while it lasts. Feel free to join.” Then she made her exit.

Ellie was on the verge of a question again, but she still didn’t want to ask it, because she still wasn’t looking at him. He looked at the board with all its strings and pins. He looked at the empty chair, the abandoned blanket, the untouched coffee. He released a long breath, forever weaker than it should be. Then he donned his coat and his hat, and he offered his secretary his arm.

It got her attention. With a faint smile, she linked her elbow with his, resting her other hand on his forearm. And they made their exit too.

[zirawrites]

How would Romanced!Companions react to a Synth version of Sole's spouse coming back?

Cait: “You’re not considering replacing me with a robot, are ya?” Cait asked as if it was an obvious joke. Sole would clasp her shoulder and reassure her that no one could ever take her place. But instead, Sole looked at their feet in shame. “He’s/She’s a synth, for fuck’s sake! I’m a real person!” She shoved Sole. Tears stung her eyes. Cait could hardly speak when she added, “I love you, Sole. This thing does not.”

Curie: “I understand the plight of synths as well as any of us. But Sole... this person is not Nate/Nora. Surely they know this?” Curie listened patiently as Sole explained how their spouse’s synth had memories of their marriage and Shaun. Hell, they even remembered when the bombs fell. “If you must help them navigate these feelings, I support you, my love. I just need reassurance that throughout this journey you remember our own special bond.”

Danse: “That is... disturbing.” Danse understood exactly what it was like to have memories that weren’t your own. A voice sounding like someone else. A body that was created to house a different soul. His veins iced with terror when he thought of what memories Nate/Nora held of Sole. And if that changed his relationship with them. “What are you going to do?” The question made Danse’s belly heavy as lead. He almost didn’t want to know their answer, but ultimately it was Sole’s choice.

Deacon: Deacon sometimes wondered what he’d do if another synth of Barbara came back. He knew she wouldn’t be the original, but the Institute would’ve probably loaded her brain with memories of their marriage and lazy days on the farm and dreams of starting a family. Maybe even darker ones, such as her murder. He truly felt for what Nate’s/Nora’s synth was enduring. Hell, he could only imagine what was going through Sole’s own head. The spy just had one question, and he asked it as he stroked the back of Sole’s neck with a tender touch. “Will you choose me?” Deacon didn’t have it in him to admit to Sole that he’d choose them over Barbara every time. Even the real Barbara. He was afraid Sole would think he was lying.

Hancock: “Does he/she have everything he/she needs?” Hancock knew how dangerous the Commonwealth was for a newborn synth. Their occasional memory lapses and self-doubt made for unsavory scams and itchy trigger fingers. He would worry about any jealousy he harbored after he made sure Nate/Nora and Sole were safe. “Tell them to come to Goodneighbor. Hell, I’ll even bring them home myself.” Sole tried to search Hancock’s eyes for any lingering feelings, but the ghoul stayed stoic and calm. “I know we’re thick as thieves, Sunshine. I ain’t about to let anyone fuck with what we got.”

MacCready: MacCready used to have nightmares about Lucy when he and Sole first got together. He dreamt that she found them asleep in bed; his muscled arm slung over Sole’s body like a security blanket. Even after he woke up, MacCready could still hear Lucy’s soft crying in the birds chirping outside his window or water running as Sole drew a bath. Moving on from Lucy sometimes felt like betrayal. But now Sole didn’t have to move on from Nate/Nora, and he wasn’t sure where that left him. “I’m, um, happy for you. But, I mean...” MacCready anxiously scratched the back of his neck. “Where does that leave us, Sole? Are you gonna leave me for a synth?” Because the truth was, MacCready would never leave Sole for Lucy’s ghost no matter how badly she haunted him.

Preston: “The Institute will really stop at nothing to get you back.” Preston was sure this was the boogeymen’s last attempt at stealing Sole from the Minutemen. Yet underneath his initial anger, there was worry. He wasn’t sure if Sole still loved their spouse enough to leave him for their imitation. “Promise me you won’t fall for it, babe. This has to be a trap.”

Piper: “You know they’re not really your spouse, right?” Piper was terrified at the prospect of Sole’s husband/wife returning. She had no idea if Sole would leave her for them. And if Sole did, Piper worried it meant she’d been a placeholder all along. “They’ll walk and talk like Nate/Nora, but it isn’t them. I’m really me, Blue. Just... remember that when you’re with them.”

Nick: Nick was extremely sensitive to Sole’s feelings when Nate/Nora returned, albeit as a synth. Sole had already been through so much, and he was worried this would rekindle their grief. “Anything you need, just let me know.” He knew Sole wouldn’t leave him. His partner just needed space and understanding.

X6-88: X6 was furious at Father for bringing back Sole’s spouse. Everyone in the Institute knew how close he had gotten to Sole, and he worried their relationship would be thrown away to this... lesser synth. “Be wise about this, Sole. They aren’t who they think they are. That’s the entire point of rogue synths.”

[full-moon-phoenix]

Okay, I love Nick Valentine x Reader stuff as much as the next person, but why does the Reader always have to be the Sole Survivor? Can't we be just another person? Or, hell, make us the Courier or the Lone Wanderer for a change. Just to switch things up.

[glupshittostan]

back 2 writing fallout 4 fic as though it’s 2017 again. im bursting at the seams so here are the ones I’ve finished so far if anyone is inch rested:

the bloody gallery - the Sole Survivor is stuck in the Pickman gallery fighting for her life against some intruding raiders, while also fighting to find Danse again

state house of affairs - Sole and Danse reluctantly go to Hancock for some mission help and end up spending the night in the State House. bow chicka wow wow

and I got some more on the way 🙇‍♀️

[gncrezan]

“I like to think I’m just good enough. Come on, peach. Those muffins we made earlier are calling our names.”

NICKMANCERS WE ARE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER...!!!! from @mrs-theirin and her nick/sabrina fic, something i’ve been meaning to draw a little something for since it dropped and i’ve only just really been able to get around to it

[leavingautumn13]

okay, so, during the interview scene with nick, when asked if he really doesn't know anything about the institute he says, "Some kind of security setting strips or blocks out those memories, and it's not just me. Any synth that gets trashed, left behind, or escapes the institute has the same problem. Probably some kind of failsafe."

so like--how does this line up with other lore? number one, "trashed or left behind" to me implies second or earlier gen synths--obviously, the institute is pretty invested in keeping the third gens around, or else there wouldn't be an srb or coursers. does nick know more synths that have escaped? have he (or amari, more likely) poked around inside a deactivated second gen's head to find the institute?

two, it's established that the institute CAN'T just flip a switch to make a synth do what they want them to--again, otherwise there wouldn't be an srb or coursers. so what gives? can they affect a synth's mind remotely or not?

three, glory remembers the institute (albeit not much) and will tell sole about it if asked. but not about the relay, which dez is surprised to learn about later on, even though glory says she mostly worked on surface detail and in the robotics lab--which means glory would HAVE to know either 1. about the relay or 2. about a way into/out of the institute that connects to the surface.

so like. what. anybody have any thoughts about this? am i missing something? i would love to hear others' thoughts about this.

[rad-roche]

Dead Woman Walking, Chapter 4/15

(x)

[exquisite-evans]

Happy (almost) Valentine’s Day from my married Narlie to you! 🩷❤️

I hope you enjoy this chapter! I’m not sure how soon the next chapter will be, tbh. Life is so busy right now but just know I’m always working on this story in between updates and trying to make it something I’m proud of and that you’ll love. So many good things still in store for them! 🥹✨