#the ​fiends fallout

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness"

A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish.

Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader

WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction.

Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 

“Cooper! What happened to you?” 

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 

“Do you have any on you?” 

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 

“You ain’t gonna share?” 

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, back pressed against his chest. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[tannnnblogs]

Hate the Fiends

A skyless version under the cut

[ezekiel13]

New Vegas has 5 NPCs with ‘Very Evil’ Karma:

- Duke & Cook Cook (two of the fiends)

- Philippe and Mortimer (The White Glove Cannibals)

- Vulpes Inculta

At first I was like “why isn’t Caesar here?” But I think it’s because these guys all know what they do is bad. They’re all fully aware that their crimes are awful and unforgivable. Caesar thinks he is doing the right thing, whereas Vulpes knows what he does is wrong. Mortimer and Philippe both know that cannibalism is frowned upon and killing peoples isn’t good, and neither is tricking people into cannibalism. And I don’t think we get a good look at the psyches of Cook Cook or Duke but they are terrible and presumably aware of that.

[grease-weasel]

Telling his brothers how tough he was today

[bellonathedragonborn]

Some old New Vegas pics.

Boone killed a Fiend so hard she phased into a fence.

[dykedvonte]

@gecko-in-a-can THIS ABSOLUTELY

Resentment is such a big part of Benny’s motives towards House, feeling he’s underserving to rule and shouldn’t have the right to keep the title of Vegas just because he claimed it first long ago. Say what you will, Benny puts the effort in, through honest and dishonest work albeit, but he puts in the effort. Not saying House didn’t but House had the luxury of having a lot of that effort done before the war and subordinates to do so after. House is untouchable, something everyone wants in the Mojave, if not for the power, but because of the security. House takes that for granted seeing how easy he thinks it is to buy people. Benny, a Mojave native, has to be irate about that seeing how he has seen the heights and slums of both lives.

Also with the AIs it’s so telling because in a lot of ways, Yes Man has more autonomy than House’s major personality securitrons. Yeah, Yes Man has to be helpful but he’s aware and able to be snarky and coy. Benny has an issue with not being listened to but that’s the only perimeter Yes Man needs to act on. He can’t condescend but lord you can tell when he wants to. House’s AIs serves specific and highly detailed functions but are confined to act in accordance. They are subservient to a T and are extensions of House while Yes Man really is a creation that adapts further, hence his desire for the assertive upgrade. Benny made something, or at least was okay with a helper, that can progress for itself. House made things that replicate or facilitate an era of the past and don’t hold the power to contest it.

[sporkberries]

I’ve been thinking about the portrayal of SA and misogyny within fallout new vegas, from the Fiends and Caesar’s Legion specifically I think new vegas does a pretty good job at portraying oppression and abuse without seeming... for lack of a better term masturbatory. It’s by no means perfect obviously but i think its a solid attempt. The(living) victims of rape that we see within New Vegas( Pretty Sarah, Corporal Besty, and Siri) all have stories that i found pretty moving, relatable and truly heart wrenching. I think Betsy and Siri are the two that really stick out to me the most( sarah i struggled with getting involved in that quest line as it was too triggering ). Betsy is the definition of a “messy” victim. What Cook-Cook did to her left lasting scars, ones she refuses to acknowledge. And she’s angry she’s angry and she’s hypersexual and she’s lashing out at everyone in her life about it. She doesn’t want to be seen as weak and she doesn’t want to be a burden( i think her being a lesbian and very proud of that further bothers her as well, the fact a man was able to assault her weighs on her). Though her actions(especially her more pervy behaviour) aren’t excused by the narrative it’s very clearly a side affect of the severe trauma she experienced. I think it would have been really easy to have turned the Cook-Cook bounty/quest into a rape revenge story and I’m glad they didn’t. Sure she gives you some cash if you kill the bastard but the main way to help Betsy isnt (rightfully) killing her rapist but to help her get the help she needs, convincing her that her fellow soldiers care about her. It’s not common for more “messy” victims to be portrayed in media and personally Besty means a lot to me for that. Now contrast her with Siri, who is the complete opposite and equally strong because of it. Siri is a slave for Caesar’s Legion and given that she’s also a woman its not hard to guess what that entails. There’s been moments in video games where I’ve cried or felt disgusted and scared but when Siri warns a female legion courier about what legion men do and what they’ve been saying about her it makes me so... I dont even know how to put it into words(as my feelings on this topic are much harder to pin down and articulate compared to betsy). Even if you’re aiding the very men who are doing the awful things to her and the other women she doesn’t want you to experience what she’s gone through. She’ll warn the courier of what the legioners say about her of what they want to do and it’s just... god. I realize this isnt very well put together but its hard to know what to say about Siri other than she fucks me up. I realize there isn’t much of a thesis to this post but if there was it would be that I feel very seen by these women, and their stories and experiences manage to affect and move me greatly, while not being profoundly irritating and disgusting like so many other rape stories(especially written by male authors) are.

[mariceauphobia]

A bunch of vertical posters of various characters and friends

[delafiseaseses]

Ranger Jackson

The Ranger Jackson who you meet at Mojave Outpost, the bloke in the funny hat and shades who asks you to kill the Giant Ants.

Ranger Thomas Jackson

First name reportedly from the 'GECK', this Jackson was a mate of Fiend Victim Ranger Esteban Morales. He went to get Esteban's body, but was killed in the process by Fiends.

Jackson the Fiend

A Fiend killed by Little Buster, since Jackson had a bounty they were probably high-ranking.

Private Jackson

An NCR Trooper and associate of a Private Daniels who writes Jackson in Strip Letter 10. Daniels calls Jackson a jerk for 'wasting [Daniels] pass' by advising them go to the bar at Gomorrah. Daniels did so and got in trouble, had a miserable time and lost 2 days of their life due to getting very drunk.

Jackson from Camp Guardian

An NCR Trooper stationed at Camp Guardian. Jackson heard the Lakelurks numerous times, but Sergeant Banner and the other troopers didn't find any evidence and started thinking Jackson was 'crazy' due to past experience as a soul survivor of a Squad massacred by Legion Slavers. He was either killed by the Lakelurks or the transfer wanted by Banner happened and saved Jackson's life. I'd guess the former, but both could be true.

Some interesting Jackson Observations

Every Jackson is connected to the NCR. Four of the five are in the NCR Military, while Jackson the Fiend is killed for an NCR Bounty.

Of the four Jacksons in the NCR Army only Jackson from Camp Guardian is also of unknown rank.

The three Jacksons with confirmed genders are men, while the other two (Jackson the Fiend and Private Jackson) are unknown.

Only Thomas Jackson has a known given name and that's only known via non-in-game information.

The only Jacksons who actually appear in-game are both Rangers.

Only Private and Ranger Jackson are most likely alive, Thomas and the Fiend are known to be dead and unknown rank Jackson is ambiguous.

[undeadcourier]

some assorted raider art/tags - first four are from the fiends in vault 3, last two are in oscar velasco's cave above bitter springs, iirc

[moonlitdesertdreams]

On the Surface

A/N: Nothing important, please enjoy and send me more ideas! Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader, Lucy MacLean WARNINGS: None Summary: Lucy knew traveling with the Ghoul would be tough, but no one told her it would be so... weird. Especially when he stops to pick up another companion along the way.

Word count: 1.2k+

(GIF credit to @talesfromthecrypts)

Lucy surely didn’t know what to expect when she trudged along after the Ghoul and Wilzig’s dog, charmed by its new companion. 

She followed, weighed down by the revelations Moldaver had laid bare. It had pulled the curtain away from her entire life and ripped her heart to shreds. Between seeing her father flee and leaving Maximus, her mind was heavy with pain. 

The Ghoul was absolute zero on the comfort scale. He walked silently, only breaking it to mutter hypothetical questions at the dog- so affectionately called Dogmeat- and cough dryly. Lucy decided they had to have been walking for hours through sparse woods and dry ground before a flickering light appeared on the horizon. 

And after everything she’d been through, she fully expected another fight. 

But the Ghoul seemed to gain some motivation at the sight, and moved along at a quicker pace than they had been. Lucy was able to make out the shape of a small campfire burning, less than ten feet away from a fairly large, but crudely-built cabin. It was tucked into a patch of dead trees, and had what she thought to be clothes hanging on clotheslines outside. Even the dog was excited, barking loudly and jogging up to the cabin. 

Lucy stopped a few yards away, apprehension freezing her limbs into place. The Ghoul continued on, hopping lithely onto the front porch and knocking at the door. Again, she expected the occupant to come out, guns blazing, and be killed by the man at her door. 

Maybe he’d even make Lucy carve pieces of them off to make jerky again.

What she didn’t expect was the door to open, and the Ghoul to crack a smile she’d never seen. A figure- a woman- stepped out onto the porch. Lucy watched them exchange a few words before the woman leaned in towards the Ghoul and…. hugged him?

What the fuck even was this place?

The Ghoul, always cold and callous with Lucy, chuckled out loud. “Miss me, sugar?”

When she pulls away, the woman is beaming. “Every day.”

Lucy probably looks like a whole fool, jaw gaping and brow furrowed in confusion. She stares at the woman, who eventually turns an eye to her. 

“What’s this? Gettin’ some on the side, Cowboy?” The still unnamed woman trots off the porch towards the Vault-Dweller. 

Upon closer inspection, the woman doesn’t appear as angry as her statement. She’s got long hair wrapped into a complicated braided style to keep it up and out of her face. There’s a smattering of freckles over her sunburnt nose, and a jagged scar running the length of her right cheek. The gnarled tissue pulls her mouth into a scowl, but she’s otherwise well-kept. She’s probably three or four inches shorter than Lucy, but no less intimidating. 

“Calm down, woman.” The Ghoul bites. “This is Lucy MacLean.”

The woman pauses, looking back to him for confirmation before staring back at Lucy. “MacLean, eh? I can see it.”

Spurs clank as the Ghoul takes those slow, scary steps towards the woman. “Thought you might be interested in comin’ along. We’re followin’ her dad. Hank.”

A smile twists the lady’s lips, fighting against the wretched scar on her face. “Come on in. We can leave in the morning.”

And that’s how Lucy finds herself in the rickety cabin. The woman- who still hadn’t offered up a name, much like her Ghoul friend- had led her to a room and tossed a scratchy blanket and pillow in behind her. Despite her gruff exterior, she had told Lucy there was a pantry in the kitchen full of non-perishables, and cans of purified water hidden in the back. And though water sounded beautiful, Lucy was more stoked about the water purifier connected to the house. She was told there was cold but clean water in a makeshift wash room to clean up.

So Lucy took her time to freshen up in the first relatively put-together place she’d been since coming up from the Vault. The little cabin did have lights, thanks to a generator that hummed along outside. She was able to scrub the grime from her face and hands, and attempted to do the same with her Vault-suit. There was an old Nuka-cola  bottle on the floor in the washroom with ‘SOAP’ scratched across it in cursive. It lathered like any other that Lucy remembered, and she felt like a new person walking out of the wash room and back into her own little space. 

Unsurprisingly, her empty stomach reared its head in protest, and she decided she’d make one last trip to the pantry before bed. There were no voices outside of her room, just the humming of an old Television setup she’d seen on her way in. Lucy tiptoes back to the junction of the living area and pantry, but stops dead in her tracks. The lights are all off, and it takes a moment for her eyes to adjust. 

The living area right inside the door, the one she’d passed by on her way in, was occupied by both the Ghoul and his mysterious friend. However, instead of the simple sofa she’d observed prior, it was now pulled out into a bed. 

A bed in which the woman and the Ghoul were curled up,  completely unconscious. 

Lucy almost feels bad intruding on the situation, but she’s more bewildered that anyone could show such affection towards the irradiated man she’d come to hate over the past few days. And they’re not even just sharing the bed, they’re tangled together and… cuddling? The Ghoul is on his back, head propped on a pillow and hat still on his head but tipped down low to hide his disfigured face. The long coat he’d worn day in and day out is hanging over the armrest beside his bandolier, guns easily accessible. And the woman, looking relaxed as ever, is curled up on her side with her head on his chest. The Ghoul has one arm curled around her shoulder, the other loosely gripping his inhaler device as he sleeps. 

Lucy collects her jaw off the floor and scoots along to the pantry, snagging a couple ration bars and a can of water before heading back. She tries not to look again as she goes back to her room, but the temptation is too great. She pauses, turning back only to hear the click of a gun being cocked. 

In the darkness, she can only see the whites of the Ghoul’s eyes and a flash of teeth. “Move along, Vaultie.”

Lucy obeys, and practically dashes back to her room. 

So when they move out in the morning, Lucy pretends not to notice anything. When the pair stops their trek and leans in close to murmur directions at each other, Lucy taps away at her Pip-Boy. 

There’s even a time where she returns from gathering water to find them locked in a kiss, coats swaying in the Wasteland wind. And Lucy had immediately backed up, lingering in the treeline until they broke apart. 

The displays of affections continue with the travels, and it wasn’t odd to wake up to the sight of the woman curled beneath her Ghoul’s arm, content as ever. Days pass, and Lucy doesn’t mention it. It’s kind of cute, she comes to think. She didn’t dare mention anything in fear of the Ghoul’s wrath. 

So their odd trio trots along through the desert, letting Dogmeat take the lead. 

And Lucy? Well, she's learning to be blissfully ignorant towards the abnormalities on the surface.

----

thanks for reading, much love ❤️

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[jaxon-c6]

I was genuinely scared for a moment when I saw this

[savingthrcw]

@brckensteel - starter from Lucy

What a fiend? It's people who eat people.

Maximus' words kept repeating in her mind as she was fighting to free herself from the rope that held her up for her wrists, but she was too wounded to pull herself up with her sole strength and no help. She had lost the Ghoul while getting sidetracked by people who needed help - a bit of an excuse because she wasn't ready to face her father - but she hadn't expected to become dinner to other humans. She had tried to tell them that the nutritional value couldn't compete with the risks of cannibalism, but she had gone largely ignored and was pretty sure they were keeping her alive just for the extra flavor.

But just as they came back for her, an explosion took part of the ceiling down and Lucy fell on the ground; all she could do was crawl to the nearest sharp edge and start cutting her rope, unable to see who was fighting them through the smoke but certain it couldn't be anyone on her side. That was, until she saw his face. She had wanted to believe he would wake up eventually, that he would be fine, but hadn't dared to hope she'd actually see him again so soon. "Max... Max!" she sat up, wincing at the pain, reaching out for him to make sure he was really there, "Are you alright? What happened? I thought-I thought..." She was as frantic as she had been heartbroken that night, thinking her father had killed him.

[aggravatedanarchy]

I fucking love video games that are buggy as fuck

Fucking around in Vault 3, helping those guys escape- I come back with the key and two of them are outside the cage and one of the Fiends is inside it instead. I'm like "wow okay," move on, unlock the cage.

And then I just. Get to watch them all crouch and "sneak" out of the cage, pushing up against and stopping in front of Fiends the whole way.

I genuinely don't know if they're supposed to just be fine once you open the cage? So like maybe that last bit is par for the course. But coming back to two of them just wandering that room, chillin with the captors? Incredible. 10/10 I recommend this game to everyone.

[bellonathedragonborn]

This is a bit random and a minor thing but here and there I see people wonder why the Fiends were made into cannibals in the show.

I wanted to point out that in New Vegas we can sometimes find human flesh on dead Fiends. Indicating they do eat people from time to time. Also at Cook-Cook’s camp we find human flesh again on a shelf by Brahmin meat.

Yeah they’re best known for drugs but they’re also cannibals.

[dykedvonte]

Yes-Man resents a lot of things but I feel like he kinda liked Benny. It’s never implied Benny had the knowledge to continuously upgrade or update him after Emily so I like to think Yes-Man respected Benny enough to adopt some of his opinions willingly.

Like personality wise, Yes-Man is like if Benny was forced to be a kiss ass; he’s equally pointed and jerky even if unendingly helpful. No matter if you spare the Great Khans, Yes-Man dislikes them and is kinda violent about things. What this says about Benny and the way he talked about things behind the scenes is one thing but the other is Yes-Man ingrained it enough to keep it.

I can imagine Benny mentioning Vegas was for them and while Yes-Man is logical, as any machine would be, I think it’s sweet if the personable part of his programming was looking forward to running Vegas with his “creator”.