Making the Most of the Apocalypse

‘Sup, I’m London (she/her). This is my Fallout blog (mostly 4 but occasionally 3 and NV). Here I share fic updates and reblog cool things.

Asks are open! Feel free to say hi—or even send me a oneshot prompt.

Current WIP(s)

Rosemary Reaper. Set in 2290, this is a post-Minutemen-ending Fallout 4 fic that alternates between the third-person POVs of Detective Nick Valentine, Sole Survivor Nora Delaney, and Commonwealth newcomer Ros Markey. Following the destruction of the Institute, now lacking a common enemy, the three remaining factions stand at the brink of war—with each other. Found Family and Angst a plenty, with a healthy dose of Hope thrown in the mix. Draft chapter status: 1/40.

“Will of the People.” A stand-alone sequel to “Case by Case,” featuring many of the same characters, this Nick POV fic follows the three days before McDonough passes the Anti-Ghoul Decree.

For details on my OCs (Sole Survivor, Lone Wanderer, Courier Six) see this post!

Completed Works

Piper’s Best Worst Day: (8k words). Following a successful boycott, Piper deals with a grumpy bartender and a funny-tasting beer. 

Case by Case: (21k words). Eight years before the Sole Survivor, an overworked Nick finds unexpected opportunity in a pickpocket. Not the weirdest hiring interview he’s given, but it’s up there.

Dig Seven Graves: (7.5k words). A nonlinear snapshot of Recon Squad Gladius from Haylen’s POV—before and after disaster. The last two chapters intersect with the events of Rosemary Reaper.

Skin of Theseus: (4k words). Danse endures complicated feelings while stitching the Sole Survivor back together.

Thanks to @x688plsloveme for the tag! I think most folks have been included, but if I missed you, just say I tagged you and I’ll make sure to tag you in future games.

Ros

(Art commission by IPB.) Ros has two playlists: one with songs in order of plot, one just for vibes. I picked songs from both (YouTube link for all 10, for simplicity).

“Ain’t No Devil” - Andrea Wasse: Blood in the river / Blood in the sky

“White Rider (Guitar Version)” - Ryan Ike

“Trigger Finger” - Coyote Kid: I know how to improvise / To stay alive / It’s not my time to die

“Again Again” - Power-Haus, DITONE

“Carolina Reaper” - Amélie Farren: Those fool enough to bother me / Strangely end up dead

“Barking Dog” - Dizzy: And no amount of loving / can stop this dog from barking / cause she’s in pain

“Wolves (Acoustic Version)” - Aviators: I, the messenger of loss / Have traveled at a cost / To save their legacies

“A Matter of Time” - Marcus Warner

“Above the Clouds of Pompeii” - Bear’s Den: Please, just don’t cry / Hold your head up high / She would want you to

“Free” - Florence + The Machine: Is this how it is? Is this how it’s always been? / To exist in the face of suffering and death / And somehow still keep singing

Nora

I have a playlist for Nora, but I need to redo it. Here’s a handful of songs that still fit though (YouTube link).

“Fallout” - UNSECRET, Neoni: Blood red skies / Burn in the wake / Of a world left behind

“The World Ender” - Lord Huron: They took my life but this isn’t the end

“Who Will Save You Now” - Les Friction: Go tell the world I’m still alive

“Sirens” - Imagine Dragons: Get run over by heaven knows what / Weary solider

“Desolation” - Tommee Profitt, Fleurie

“Begin Again” - Avalon Zero, David Chappell

“The Horror” - Ursine Vulpine, Annaca: I’ve been dragging crowns and castles on my back

“Guilty” - Karmina: Now you got my heart, don’t break it

“Not Dead Yet” - Lord Huron: I ain’t dead yet / And I got something to say

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them (if not, what kind of pets would you want?)

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Thanks for the ask!

🧃⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

I’m a casual birder. I currently have 220 bird species on my life list (started keeping track 5 years ago). Far less casually, I’ll periodically survey waterbirds and shorebirds in my biologist position. Usually this involves identifying and counting 5,000-15,000 birds over the course of 2-4 days with a team of people, though I have surveyed solo too. My most intense survey so far was earlier this year where, in the span of about 6 hours, I identified and counted over 50,000 waterbirds from a small airplane going 100 mph—not including whatever birds my survey partner saw outside the opposite window. It was extremely hard and my accuracy was bad, but it’s one of those things you can only learn by doing.

(As exciting as that is, I’m stuck in the office most of the year. Right now I’m only scheduled to be released from my dungeon in mid-July to count plants for a week.)

🍄 ⇢ share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

This is tricky because most of my headcanons that aren’t already in fics I’ve posted would be spoilers for ones that are in progress. My big bang fic from last year (“Writing on the Walls”) is basically a library of my Sole Survivor/Piper headcanons. “Skin of Theseus” hints at Danse’s messy, unrequited feelings for Nora. But those involve pairings with my Sole Survivor specifically.

If we’re talking canon characters, I do have Haylen/Rhys thoughts but can’t elaborate on them right now beyond this: I ship them in the same way I ship the Prydwen with its hydrogen bags. Does it have the ability to set sail? Sure. But holy hell at what cost…

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them (if not, what kind of pets would you want?)

I do not, sadly. My family had a cat when I was growing up, and I desperately want to get one. I’m waiting till I’m in a more permanent position though.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

I usually try to give the entire first chapter a shot before I click the back button on a fic. However, if there are no spaces between paragraphs (i.e there’s an unbroken wall of text) or if there are multiple speakers in a single paragraph of dialogue (i.e. the author doesn’t start a new paragraph for a new speaker), then I nope right out. It is immediately too frustrating to continue if my brain struggles to parse what I’m reading.

Okay, I never jump on the bandwagon, but every single one of these that has crossed my dash has looked so fun—and oh my god it was. I can’t draw to save my life, but I can passably Frankenstein old pulp covers in Procreate. Just don’t ask me how many hours it took.

Nora: Queen of Spades, Survivor Queen

Ros: 10 of Spades, Surviving the Storm

Charlie: Ace of Spades, Point of No Return

Shrike: 6 of Spades, Earned Passage

More info on my Fallout OCs here.

Trend started by @meatgrinderminefield (if I recall correctly). This was a blast!

Sources below the cut:

Have some Ros and Professor Scara snippets. No, I have no idea how this relationship happened either, and I wrote it.

* * * *

1.

“Let’s see down here…strong legs, weak knees and ankles—you must repair these quite frequently. Ooh, not as frequently as you replace the hooves. Look at that wear! Not made for the asphalt, I’d say. They hold up well enough though.” Scara pulled herself to her feet. “What’s her purpose? Transportation?”

Ros shrugged. “Transportation. Agriculture. Whatever people are supposed to use a horse for.”

“I wouldn’t know. They’ve been locally extinct since the bombs.” Scara ran her hand along Winnie’s flank. “Someone must have thought they were useful enough to bring back, in a manner of speaking. Which Vault did you say you found her in?”

“I didn’t.”

“Ah! Never mind, here it is. Leave it to Vault-Tec to brand their machines.” Ros winced. The numbers on Winnie’s flank were almost completely worn away. Most folks missed them. “Vault 121. Never heard of it. It’s not located anywhere near here. Let me guess, Capital Wasteland? Or further south?”

“That’s a wide net.” But a correctly cast one. Ros needed to work on her accent if people were going to keep asking her that question.

Scara gave her a close-lipped smile. “Protective of your secrets, I see. I’m the same way with my research. You make a good scientist.”

“I’m protective of her,” Ros clarified. “You can look at my data all you want.”

The gleam in Scara’s eyes returned. “Data?”

Ros brought up her most recent records on her Pip-Boy. She tilted her wrist for Scara to see. “I have extra copies.”

“Moisture levels, pH, mineral composition…are these soil samples?” She sounded incredulous.

Ros turned a dial. A map of southern New England appeared onscreen, crisscrossed by many thin lines.

“Radstag migrations? Oh, you and Duff would make a disgustingly good pair.” Scara turned on her heel with a sneer. “Follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to introduce you to my wife.”

* * * *

2.

“This is a terrible experiment!” Ros shrieked. “Shit-shit-shit-shit! No, stop! Bad deathclaw! Bad!”

Scara was laughing her ass off. “I take it back. Duff, this is the best experiment you’ve ever run.”

“I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!”

* * * *

3.

“I’m looking for Ros,” Nora said. “Has she been here today?”

“Oh, she’s out in the field with Piper,” Duff said cheerfully, “taking photos for the next edition of the paper. It’s on bloatflies! I do love bloatflies.”

“The evolutionary origins of wasteland insects,” Scara corrected without looking up from her workbench.

Duff looked delighted. “Why, dear Professor, I didn’t think you were interested!”

“I’m not. Your infantilization of science simply irks me to no end.”

“She won’t admit it, but Professor has taken quite a liking to the young Mx. Ros,” Duff said. “They often engage in passionate discussions on programming and robotics.”

Scara whipped around, done pretending Nora wasn’t in the room. “They can hardly be called discussions when I’m always right. Their coding style is clunky and inefficient. It’s a miracle any of their programs run, but somehow my code is ‘messy and convoluted.’” She made air quotes. “She uses rainbow parentheses. Rainbow. Parentheses. And light mode. Only a monster uses light mode.”

“Scara,” Nora said slowly, making sure she was hearing this correctly, “are you two actually exchanging work?”

“So what? Doesn’t mean I’m going to start handing out copies of my research to every random person who asks.” Scara scowled. “Like she is.”

“What research?”

“Don’t you read the paper? Pick up a copy sometime. Though I hear the editor’s girlfriend is a real piece of work.”

“She’s an ecologist,” Duff said, thankfully before Nora could retort. “Recording general environmental and wildlife data for posterity. Or maybe some sort of research repository? It’s not clear.”

“What does that have to do with programming?”

“Oh dear. You’ve never met an ecologist, have you? Numbers don’t paint a picture on their own. They need coaxing, you see.”

“They need to be wrangled and beaten into submission, more like,” Scara said.

“No, I should have clarified,” Nora said. “Robotics. What does it have to do with robotics? Where did the horse come from?”

Scara sized her up, expression shrewd. “You’re fishing.”

“I suppose I am.”

“How much has she told you about the Vault she’s from?”

“I wasn’t aware she was from a Vault. Piper said she was a second generation settler.”

“Piper said that to you.”

“That’s right.”

“Not her.”

Nora realized where this was going too late.

Scara abruptly faced her workbench, her back to Nora once more. “Well, this has been a nice chat, but we are both so very busy, General. I suggest you leave us be now.”

Nora looked at Duff, who shrugged apologetically. “Another time, perhaps,” the biologist said.

Ellie thoughts consumed me while I was at work today, so here’s a Reaper snippet to show I haven’t let this fic die.

It’s business worse than usual at the Valentine Detective Agency…and the bar was low to start with.

* * * *

The client curled in on himself, grief so heavy Nick could feel it clog his own throat. Ros remained frozen.

Now was the opportune moment for Nick to intervene. Ros was out of their depth. The case needed a far steadier and more experienced hand.

Nick’s hands weren’t working. His wrists had tightened with a hot ache, as if someone had twisted a screwdriver until his joints jammed. Only in memory—not in this existence—had he inhaled for a reason beyond speech or placebo. An erratic current sparked through his limbs as, for the first time in decades, he felt panic that he couldn’t breathe.