sole clinics

Aphrodisiac pt1

Originally posted by melanielovesgaysempai

Description :After exhausting all of your financial resources, you end up resorting to donating blood just so you can get by. It turned out well until you found yourself faced with the question of whether or not you wanted to become a personal blood bank to someone who has possibly become addicted

Pairing : Vampire Jin x Reader

Word Count : 1,608

Genre : angst, humour, (eventual) smut

a/n : It’s shitty…but it’s a start. It’ll get better I swear.

You sat there anxiously, picking at the lint on the sleeves of your oversized sweater. The silence in the room may have been comforting or soothing to those around you but for you it was hell. It left you alone with nothing but your way too loud thoughts ringing in your ears asking the question of whether or not you were actually this desperate for money. There had to be another option.

You almost snorted at that, shaking the thought away. It was either this or stripping.  Seeing as though you couldn’t be sexy even if your life depended on it, you should probably keep your non-existent ass where you currently were.

To any normal person you may look like any other 23 year old girl sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office for an appointment. However, you weren’t. In fact you were a broke ass, barely getting by on ramen ass, 23 year old art major sitting in the room of a blood bank for vampires, waiting to see if your blood was clean enough to donate, so you could get some money to pay your rent because life’s a bitch, and you’d prefer to not be sleeping in a cardboard box for the winter.

To say you’d had it hard for the past two years since coming to university would be an understatement. Balancing work and school to pay your tuition was not easy task but somehow you had managed.

Until about 2 months ago, when your former boss had offered you a raise if you’d blow him in the supplies closet, which resulted in him having a bloody nose and you being a jobless bitch.

Now here you were, behind on your rent, empty cupboards and not knowing where the first dime would come from. You’d been scanning the newspaper trying to find another job when you first saw the advertisement. At first it looked a little absurd to you with bold letters saying you could donate a pint of blood to help feed the city’s vampire population and get paid for your donation.You didn’t know much about vampires, apart from the basic knowledge that they drank human blood. The thought was a bit off putting to you at first, but after about a week of contemplation, fueled by your growing hunger and multiple threats from your landlord, you had eventually caved and made the trip down to the clinic.

They’d drawn a sample of your blood for testing to see if it was fit for donation. Depending on your results, they would class your blood based on its quality and pay you according to which class you fell in.

You’d read multiple stories of persons who had gotten up to 3 grand for a pint of blood because of how high quality it was. You prayed to God that the months of eating ramen, bread and animal crackers hadn’t messed with your health too much, because if you ended up getting $50 for some crappy blood, you were just gonna lay in the road.

“Ms. y/l/n?”

You flinched as you heard your name being called. Looking up, you met the steady stare of the receptionist as she indicated for you to come over. She smiled softly at you as she held out a slip of paper and a pen.

“Congratulations you’ve been approved for donation. You just have to fill out this consent form and then go to the white door on your left and you’ll be given further instructions from there” she stated ,as she began indicating to specific parts of the paper and explaining them to you.

Within the span of the next 4 hours you were back into your apartment, curled up under a blanket and eating actual food. You’d been nervous about the whole thing, but before you knew it, it was over and you were walking towards the bank with a check for $2000 clutched in your hands. The only sign you had that you’d given blood was the patch on your arm and the lingering weakness you felt in your bones. You’d had enough to pay for the rent you’d owed and to buy food to last for at least a month.

For the first time in 2 months you didn’t have a massive dark cloud of anxiety looming over your head, and you might as well enjoy it while it lasted. As soon, as the high from this wore off you knew you’d be back to anxious, depressed mess as you searched for a job. You’d spent the last of your savings to make the deadline for the tuition payments so at least that was out of the way. Buy u still needed supplies, food and rent money. Working at your last job may have been hell but the pay was decent and it had been enough to let u live somewhat comfortably. It wasn’t going to be easy finding another one that paid so well.

Just thinking about it made your head throb and you just decided to just leave it for another day.

Two weeks had passed and you still hadn’t found a job. It was getting closer to the beginning of your semester and you were this close to just donating more blood. You were less than 2 weeks away and you had no books, no supplies, nothing.

It’s not like you could beg your parents for help. They’d been adamant about disowning you if you went into anything outside of business field. They told you that you wouldn’t survive without their support and you weren’t about to let 2 years worth of proving them wrong go down the drain.

You grunted as you dragged yourself from your small couch to the kitchen to drown your sorrows in a tub of cookies and cream ice cream. 

You were almost halfway down the tub when you felt your phone vibrate beside you. You hit the accept button without looking at the number.

“Ms.Y/L/N,?” you heard the familiar voice of the receptionist from the clinic say. You instantly shot up, every possible worst case scenario flitting through your brain. She hadn’t even said anything and you losing your shit over absolutely nothing.

“I’m calling on behalf of Dr. Choi, the head of the clinic. There are a few things he’d like to discuss with you regarding the donation you made and the client who received it. He’d like to meet with you as soon as possible. is there anytime that you will be free to come down to the clinic this week?” she inquired. You eyed the clock on the wall across from you. It was just a little after 1.

“I’m free at the moment actually. I could come now, I mean if it’s ok with him” You hoped she said yes, if you didn’t see him today, all the possible reasons why he wanted to speak to you would have kept you wide awake all night. And your really weren’t in the mental state for anymore sleepless nights. 

You could hear her fingers tapping furiously against the keys of the keyboard as she paused, telling you to hold for a minute while she checked his schedule.

“That would be perfect actually. He has a free slot at 2:45.” You thanked her for calling you and hung up, assuring her you’d be there. 

You quickly got dressed and took a short walk to the bus stop. The whole time you were in the bus your brain started coming up with all the possible ways you could have fucked this one up.Maybe they wanted their money back because your blood poisoned someone. Could you even poison a vampire? But if you killed someone, that technically makes you a murderer and murderers go to prison.


You weren’t cut out for prison. You weren’t even cut out for life for God’s sake. You buried your face in your palms. You’re being way too extra right now. All of those reasons were dumb. You took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your erratic heartbeat. There was nothing to be worried about. They didn’t want the money back, you hadn’t killed anyone and you weren’t going to prison. 

It was easier to convince yourself once you were seated across from Dr.Choi in his office.

He looked to be in his early 40′s, his neatly cut black hair littered with patches of white and grey, tall and broad shouldered with sharp eyes that still somehow held enough warmth to put your troubled mind at ease.

“I’m glad you were able to meet with me this quickly despite the short notice. You must be wondering why you were summoned so suddenly “. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. You tapped your foot against the mahogany floor boards, waiting for what he had to say.

”As you know, we are a blood clinic who’s sole purpose is to keep the vampire population well fed. The blood is distributed randomly to the population based on the class of blood they order. Therefore every time they get a supply it’s from a completely different person. However, there are some cases in which a vampire receives a specific bag of blood, and they find it particularly… enticing. They want more of it and they feel like if they couldn’t get another taste of the blood they’d go insane. They become addicted in a sense. So they request a blood bond contract with the individual who donated the blood. It’s a very common occurrence actually. This is the case with you. You’ve been requested for a blood bond contract"

Companions plus faction leaders see get Sole get gravely injured and while trying to help them, they try to walk it off and continue the fight
  • <p> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b><p></b> <b>Cait:</b> One moment, both Cait and Sole were having the time of their lives, decimating supermutants. The next, Sole was screaming while a mutant dog tore up their arm. Cait bashed the dog's head in without a moment's hesitation. She was about to go back into the fight when she saw Sole trying to get up and grab their weapon. "Oh, no you don't! Sit back down Sole!" Sole said that they were perfectly capable of fighting, but Cait wasn't having it. She forced Sole to stay seated, then threatened them to stay or else. Sole begrudgingly allowed Cait to fix them up. After she was done, she pointed a finger at Sole and told them that if they worried her like that again, she'd kill them herself.<p/><b>Codsworth:</b> Codsworth honestly thought that Sole was invincible before he saw them get torn up by a feral ghoul. He told Sole that they should heal themselves while he takes care of the remaining ghouls, but Sole wasn't hearing it. They told him that they were fine and limped back into the fray. Codsworth couldn't really argue with Sole, so he made sure to take care of the toughest enemies. Ensuring that Sole would have it easier.<p/><b>Curie:</b> Curie lets out a rather loud gasp when she sees the blood blossoming on Sole's thigh while they were fighting gunners. Curie tries to treat it right away, even with Sole telling her to stop over and over again. Sole just keeps on firing their gun while Curie patches their leg up as best she can with them standing. When the last of their enemies were down, Curie properly fixes Sole's leg, not noticing their piercing stare until she glanced up. "What's the matter madam/monsieur​..?" She looks quite shocked. "You got in my way during the fight!" Curie winces and tiltes her head down. "I-I'm sorry, but you seemed to b-be in pain..." She looked up. "I just wanted to help, really!" Sole put their hand on their kind hearted companion's shoulder. "I know Curie, but next time help me when everything wanting to kill us is dead."<p/><b>Danse:</b> Sole got knocked out for a few seconds when a synth hit them with a shock baton. Danse quickly destroyed it, before turning to Sole with his brow furrowed in worry. "You okay soldier?" Sole blinked out the remaining spots in their vision. "Yeah, I'm fine." They tried to stand, but ended up falling right back down. They tried twice more before Danse commanded them to stay. Sole tried to protest, but to no avail. They couldn't disobey a direct command from someone with a higher rank than them. By the time Danse returned, Sole was able to walk, but Danse still had them lean on him. After a few minutes of silence, Sole looked up at Danse and quietly asked him, "Please don't tell Elder Maxson about my screw up today." Danse kept looking forward, but there was a small smile on his face. "Of course soldier. I know you'd do the same for me."<p/><b>Deacon:</b> Sole and Deacon were doing fairly well against a group of raiders up until Sole slipped and got shot multiple times in the stomach. Deacon turned around when he heard Sole's scream. His eyes went wide, panicking for a second before pulling himself together. He shot the raiders around them before running up to inspect Sole's injuries. They tried telling him that they're fine, but coughed up blood while doing so. "Uh-huh. I've heard some pretty bad lies in my time, but I think that one just took the cake. Sorry, but you're staying where you are." All Sole could do was groan and lean their head back while Deacon finished up. He already had stimpacks ready when he came back to Sole's spot. They ended up camping there for the night, giving Sole plenty if time to think about how lucky they are to have Deacon as a companion.<p/><b>Dogmeat:</b> Sole gets grazed by a feral's bony hands while in downtown Boston. Dogmeat thinks that Sole is seriously hurt, so he goes absolutely berserk on the rest of the ferals. 'Must protect human!' Sole ends up not being able to shoot anything because Dogmeat's in the way. He gets rewarded with a brahmin steak later on for being such a good boy.<p/><b>Hancock:</b> Hancock damn near went feral when Sole got seriously hurt by a raider. He only increased the violence when he saw that Sole was trying to help him, scared that they'd get in an even worse condition. He was not going to lose the one good thing he had left on this world. When he saw Sole's dumbfounded look after he was done, he burst out laughing. "Chalk that up to 'reasons why I'm awesome." That snapped Sole out of it. "Yeah, yeah. Just fix me up already." He did it without hesitation and helped Sole to their feet. While they were walking away, Hancock ruffled Sole's hair affectionately, and told them not to worry him so much. Sole just smirked and said that they couldn't promise anything.<p/><b>MacCready:</b> While fighting a bunch of gunners, Sole was flung across the street by a man in power armour. "Holy fu-frick!" MacCready's eyes went wide when he saw his friend sprawled across the pavement. Thankfully, Mac shot the guy between the eyes before he could deliver the final blow. MacCready was relieved when he saw Sole get up, but that was quickly replaced by fear when they suddenly clenched their abdomen. "Boss! Are you okay?" Sole grimaced more than they smiled, but they assured him that they were alright. In reality, Sole just didn't want to worry him. A few broken bones is nothing. MacCready was a bit skeptical, but trusted Sole to know what they were doing. The poor guy never learned that Sole was actually very hurt.<p/><b>Nick:</b> Nick thought he was going to overheat with how hard he was working to keep Sole safe. Sole had just gotten a nasty gash from a mirelurk a few minutes prior, and Nick didn't want them to over exert themselves with more fighting. When the last mutated crab was down, Nick went to heal Sole straight away. They tried pushing him away, insisting that they were fine. Nick stared them down and said, "Sole." That one word was enough to make Sole give in. They couldn't compete with Nick's stern voice. He had a smug smile the entire time he was fixing them up.<p/><b>Piper:</b> "OH MY GOD! BLUE!" Needless to say, Piper was downright terrified. The last thing she wanted was for her best friend to die. She didn't even wipe out the rest of the enemies, she just picked up Sole and ran. She ran until she came across Diamond City. Piper took Sole to the clinic, demanding immediate medical attention. All the stress made Piper pass out on her friend's cot after the doc fixed them up. She was just glad that Sole would be alright.<p/><b>Preston:</b> </b> There was only one stingwing left when it stung Sole. Preston made short work of it, but the poison was spreading quickly, making Preston tear up because he didn't know how to save his friend. He soon sobered, however, when he saw Sole start to walk away. "Where do you think you're going? We need to get you help!" Sole didn't even glance back, probably because they were wincing. "Eh. I'll be okay." Preston wasn't going to let them have their way. He ran up to them, and without warning, hefted Sole over his shoulder. He ran all the way to the nearest settlement, even with Sole demanding he put them down.<p/><b>Strong:</b> He let Sole get back up and continue to fight after they got hurt by some mutants. He would've thought them weak if they hadn't. Strong did go on ahead to take the brunt of the fire, so that Sole wouldn't die of course. Then who would help him find the milk of human kindness?<p/><b>X6-88:</b> X6 made a disapproving sound when he saw that Sole had been incapacitated by a stray bullet or four.vHe obliterated the remaining enemies before lifting Sole up bridal style. They asked him what in the world he was doing. One of his eyebrows lifting up in question was the only bit of emotion he showed. "I'm obviously taking you back to the institute to get treated." Sole started pushing against his chest, saying that they're not some damsel in distress. X6 sighed. "With all due respect sir/ma'am. Wouldn't it be better to get bullets dug out of you by sterile equipment?" Sole stopped and thought for a moment. "Holy crap, you're right. Well then, what are we waiting for?" X6 muttered a barely audible "We're waiting for you to accept the obvious answer," before calling in a teleport request.<p/></p><p/><b>Desdemona:</b> She couldn't believe it. One of her best heavies knocked out on the ground. They fainted because they saw a molerat. Now Des has to make sure that none of the 'savage beats' could attack Sole. A few minutes after Desdemona was done, Sole woke up. Des wasted no time in chewing out Sole, putting emphasis on them needing to get over their molerat phobia.<p/><b>Maxson:</b> Maxson would be lying if he said that he wasn't scared shitless. What with Sole bleeding on the ground, and him being the only one who could fight against the rest of the gen-1 synths that infested a building near the airport. He long ago told Sole to not get up no matter what. Somehow, he destroyed all of the synths, and let the tension leave his body. Until it came back when he heard Sole's ragged breathing. He spun around and told them to hop on his back. He didn't know a thing about medicine, but people around the airport do. When he arrived, he was dead tired, but he managed a smile when the doctor that took Sole told him that that'd be alright.<p/><b>Father:</b> He was absolutely mesmerized by Sole's fighting ability. So much so, that he didn't hear Sole's warning. They had to tackle him out of the way, which made them take they blow he was about to receive. He was stunned for a moment, but when he saw that Sole was standing back up with blood running down their face he scrambled back to his feet. "Mother/Father! Let me-" Sole cut him off. "No Shuan. It's my duty as your parent to protect you. Let me." It tore him up to do so, but he obeyed. He never looked up more to his parent than at that very moment.<p/></p><p/><b></b> ______________________
  • @conquerorofthewarriorprincess
  • Hope you like it! It took me a while because Tumblr deleted my original somehow.<p/></p><p/></p><p/></p>

anonymous asked:

Companions react to accidentally injuring Sole!

Okay, first react ever, so I hope you all enjoy! (: This got longer than I’d expected, sorry!


Cait: “Shite!” The redhead exclaimed, grasping the side of the bed as she peered out over the edge. A groan that sounded suspiciously like a muffled swear was the only reply Cait got, as well as a sharp glare.The glare would’ve been more threatening if Cait had been able to see the sneer on their lips, but said expression was hid behind their two hands cupping their nose, undoubtedly trying to halt the blood-flow.

“You broke my nose!”

“I didn’t mean ta! Ya know better than ta wake me up. What were ya tryin’ ta do this early in ta mornin’ anyway?”

“… I wanted to show you a new trick I taught Dogmeat…”

At this the Irish woman broke down into laughter and Sole pouted angrily - according to Cait it was adorable, not that the redhead would ever admit that - and removed their hands to cross their arms, only to realize they’d let go of their nose and the blood had begun flowing again.

Cait’s laughter followed Sole out of the house as they fled, hoping to wake up Curie without getting punched in the face. Surprisingly enough, Curie did punch them in surprise, leaving a bruised and bloodied Sole to mope about the next day, bandage on their very swollen nose and a colorful bruise on their cheek.

Curie: “Sole? I want to try something.” Curie had Sole wrapped around her little finger, every one of the companions knew that, so of course they agreed to participate in whatever experiment the synth scientist had come up with. Curie squealed in excitement and after surprising the vault dweller with a hug and a kiss, she began preparing the procedure.

The first sign of the experiment being a bad idea had been the sheer size of the needle. But, anything to make the french woman happy. The second sign had been the faint sting spreading through Sole’s body within seconds of the strange green colored liquid entering their bloodstream. Anything to make her happy though. The third and final sign had been the intense flare of pain that knocked Sole out after three seconds of painful screams and squirming.

Okay, maybe not everything.

When they regained consciousness, it had been three whole days and the vault dweller had a group of worried companions to reassure them that they were alright. Any they were, if you didn’t look the horns they had grown and the greenish tinge their skin had gotten. Strong seemed thrilled with the change, but Nick managed to somehow explain to the super mutant that Sole was too weak to go out and smash everything in sight with their new non-existent powers.

The horns and greenish tinge faded away after the first two days, but Curie hadn’t stopped apologizing, constantly trying to show how sorry she was with small gifts, kisses and hugs. After the two hundred and seventh bundle of flowers - where did she find all those flowers anyway? - Sole sat her down and informed her that they didn’t blame her and she couldn’t possibly know what would happen if modified super mutant and deathclaw genes were introduced to the human body. After Curie had reluctantly accepted that Sole was right and breathed a sigh of relief, they had asked how she had gotten a hold of the genes, nonetheless manipulated them.

‘Same way I got zhe flowers’ she had replied and before Sole could question them, had left to make more stimpacks for the upcoming wrestling tournament where someone, for some unknown reason, had allowed Strong to participate.

Danse: Power armor was a great thing. Great for protection, great to handling heavy material and building, great for charging into battle like an angry metal bull. All in all, great. Except when it’s knocked over. When it’s knocked over, it is like that of a turtle, flailing around defenseless, unable to get up quickly. Luckily Danse was very used to the heavy armor and steady on his feet.

Most of the time.

“Soldi- Sole! Are you alright?”

Sole didn’t bother answer with anything else than a grunt, eyes scrunched together as they did their best to ignore the angry flares of pain from their arm that was squashed underneath not only themselves, but also a very heavy set of power armor with a heavy and worried man inside. The vault dweller didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, but whatever he was saying was working, since the heavy weight was lifted within seconds.

It was during a party the accident happened. A few of Sole’s other companions had thought it would be funny to knock Danse in his power armor over to see him try to get up. So MacCready, Piper, Hancock, Cait and Deacon had made it their mission to do so, all either tipsy or downright drunk. Sole wasn’t sure how they did it, but they succeeded in knocking the power armor-clad Danse backwards. What they hadn’t expected was for Sole to have been standing directly behind him, one hand holding two beers and the other raised to touch Danse’s shoulder to alert him of their return with the beverages he had requested. The bottles dropped from their hand as the power armor tipped backwards to the sound of the five companion’s drunken laughter, causing them to be in this situation.

The second the heavy weight was lifted off Sole a pair of hands reached in - Nick’s, judging by the coldness of the one metal hand - and tugged them out from beneath the deathtrap. The synth looked worriedly down at the vault dweller, his expression matching those of the companions and settlers that had noticed what had happened and formed a circle around them.

“You all right?”

“Peachy” Sole ground out, gritting their teeth as they clutched their undoubtedly broken arm, judging by the sickening bent angle. Danse shoved Nick out of the way without much guilt - the two of them had never really gotten along that well - and without a word scooped them up from the ground before they could protest. Holding them rather protectively against his chest, he shot the five companions a heated glare with the unspoken promise of consequences before stomping off towards Curie’s makeshift and rather tiny clinic. Sole didn’t comment on the abandonment of the power armor nor the crumbling expression on Danse’s face.

Several days after the accident Danse refused to wear his power armor, and on the fifth day of Danse almost getting killed because he’d forgotten he didn’t have the suit on, Sole got him to talk a late evening as they laid together in their bed, too much space between them. He admitted he felt guilty, because it had been him and his power armor that had injured them, and he didn’t know how to handle it other than try to prevent it from happening again and keeping his distance. Heart heavy and eyes filled with pity, vault dweller spent the next hour convincing Danse that it wasn’t his fault, then spent two hours trying to convince him not to hunt down MacCready, Piper, Hancock, Cait and Deacon. Afterwards they exchanged kisses, caresses and words of love before drifting off to sleep, wrapped up in each other's’ embrace.

Deacon: “Deacon? What in the remains of this messed up world are you doing?” Sole’s question startled the spy, a sound he’d later deny as being a rather girlish squeak - “A mating call, Sole. It’s how I show my love” - escaping his mouth as he spun around to look at them, eyes wide behind the sunglasses. But as always he quickly composed himself, an easy grin spreading across his face as he loosed the death hold on the object he held in his hands.

“I’m trying to figure out if a grenade - like this one - would somehow be able to blow Maxson’s jacket off without killing him. Perhaps it’d take some modification or a magic spell, but it could probably work out if- shh, I’m explaining something there. As I said, we have to give it a try. Have you seen the guy’s jacket? Jeez, if I was a girl I wou- Hey, c’mon, you can tell me how stupid the idea seems late-”

Deacon’s rambling was interrupted for the third time. This time, not with words, but with action as Sole rushed forwards, nearly tackling the spy as they wrestled the grenade from his hands. His mouth went dry and he found himself speechless for the first time since the pink deathclaw when he realized what was going on. In one hand, a small pin rested in his palm. He’d accidentally pulled the pin out of the grenade in the middle of explaining.


Frantically Deacon waved his arms about to try to clear the smoke and dust from the air, expression nothing less than sheer panic. When the particles in the air cleared enough for him to see and stop coughing, his hidden gaze darted around the ruins of the house he had hid away in to ponder over the ideas that seemed so stupid now. One side of the house had collapsed and without thinking he was on his knees, digging through the rubble with enough force to bruise and scrape his hands more than necessary. The silence was choking, but his mouth was too dry to form any words, his chapped lips refusing to move more than shallow wobbles of withheld sobs.

They were dead, weren’t they? They had been holding the grenade, right? In their palms, still pre-war soft despite the months they had spent in the wasteland. The same palms that would run up and down his skin with a tenderness he hadn’t experienced since Barbara. The same palms that would grasp his firmly when his disguises wouldn’t hide the pain and trauma he had experienced. The same palms that now grasped his tense shoulders, shaking his form more than his suppressed sobs were, and-

Hang on.

Whipping his head around with the same carelessness that had caused the whole situation, he stared blankly at the hand grasping his shoulders, the shape and fine condition of the nails and fingers ghastly familiar. His watery gaze followed the arm further upwards, the blue of the vault suit making his heart beat impossibly faster. Finally Deacon’s gaze halted on Sole’s face.


At that little, hoarse whisper the spy broke, a sob fleeing from his mouth as he flung himself at Sole, arms wrapping around them and tugging them into a desperate embrace, salty tears of guilt and relief trickling down his dusty cheeks from underneath his lightly damaged sunglasses. They were here, they were alive. They hadn’t been killed because of his carelessness, his need for their attention. He hadn’t caused another death of his beloved.

“Shall we go blow Maxson’s jacket off, hm?”

And they did attempt blowing off the Elder’s jacket, but only after Deacon had - literally - dragged Sole to Curie to have their burns and that one suspiciously crooked wrist fixed. The vault dweller had sustained suspiciously little damage, but Deacon wasn’t one to complain. When Preston stopped by and asked, the spy quickly made up a story about thirty raiders and that one pink deathclaw, this time armed with a rubber duck instead of a paintbrush. Preston, having seen the pink deathclaw himself, actually believed him and Sole only felt a little bit guilty for fooling the naive man, again.

Maxson hadn’t appreciated the experiment though, especially not when the explosive only charred half of his beard and set the coat on fire - from the inside out somehow - instead of blowing it off his broad frame. But hey, the Elder had taken it off so he could put it out, so technically they blew off the jacket, right?

Dogmeat: It had happened before. Sole would return from after a mission out in the wasteland with their companion at their side. They’d cross the bridge, but before they’d reach the other side, Dogmeat would notice them and come sprinting, barking and yapping excitedly at the return of his beloved owner. As usual, Sole barely had any time to react when the dog flung himself at them, knocking them down onto the wood of the bridge and covering their face in puppy licks as he had done so many times.

Unfortunately the wood of the bridge was very old, and this time it couldn’t hold the weight of the three and the junk stuffed into the vault dweller’s bag. With several harsh snaps, the wood gave in and sent all three of them tumbling down onto the rocks underneath. Dogmeat’s added weight and the bag of junk landed harshly on to Sole and the impact and pressure proved too much, resulting in a few harsh snaps echoing through the air, the horrible sound followed by a pained groan and an apologetic whimper.

Sole spent a few weeks recovering with three broken ribs and some nasty bruising in Sanctuary under the stern supervision of Curie and Nick, and Dogmeat did everything he could to express how sorry he was. Cuddles, puppy kisses, even going as far as aggressively ‘protecting’ them from the other companions. Even dead animals and scrap were gifted, despite the vault dweller not exactly appreciating the dead creatures. But the gifts were gone when he returned, so they must’ve liked them, right?

Hancock: “Who came up with this idea?” Hancock exclaimed, nonexistent eyebrows scrunched and forehead furrowed as he stared Sole down. Now, the ghoul was usually up for anything. Ride rodeo on a brahmin? Sure! Ride a shopping cart down a steep cliff? Definitely, at least three times! Spray paint Danse’s power armor? Best idea ever!

But this? This was just stupid.

Sole was grinning wildly, clearly the one who came up with said ‘stupid’ idea. They were standing with their back pressed against a wall, a mutfruit balanced on the top of their head. Sole gestured eagerly for Hancock to go with it, and with a sigh, the mayor unstealthed his knife and twirled it around a bit in his hands. He shot the vault dweller a look that clearly asked the question of ‘are you sure?’ and could only sigh at the overly eager nod they gave, barely managing to catch the mutfruit before it slipped off. Drawing back an arm, he was just about to throw the knife when a gun K-L-E-O was showing off to a disinterested MacCready caught a glimpse of sunlight and blinded the ghoul mid-throw.

They all watched as the knife flew through the air, a completely wrong angle but in the right direction. He paled as much as a ghoul could as the knife sunk into the flesh of Sole’s right thigh, slicing through the blue material as if it was nothing. Sole and Hancock stared at each other in shock and a few drifters stopped up to stare as well. It wasn’t every day the mayor stabbed his beloved.

There was complete silence. Until the pain and realization caught up with Sole and with a strangled exclaim, they clutched their bleeding thigh, knife violently protruding from the flesh and blood quickly staining their hands. Hancock rushed over and held them up by their shoulders before they could crumble down onto the dirty pavement. The mutfruit laid abandoned on the ground next to a puddle of blood as the ghoul led them over to dr. Amari.

“You stabbed me!”

“I didn’t mean to!”

Hancock spent weeks apologizing, always looking extremely guilty when Sole couldn’t stifle the occasional wince or swear when moving their still healing leg. It took a long time for Sole to convince him he was forgiven, and they never tried any of Sole’s crazy experiments again. Except that one time. MacCready still hadn’t forgiven them.

MacCready: It had been a normal night at the Third Rail, Sole and MacCready enjoying a few drinks by the bar and Hancock lounging around in his usual vip spot. They had been talking about MacCready’s life at Little Lamplight when a guy had strolled up and placed himself on the stool next to Sole, cocky smirk on his face and one arm resting on the wooden counter. Charlie shot the guy a look that clearly stated the mr. Handy definitely wasn’t serving him any drinks tonight, which only served to fuel MacCready’s suspicion. He was sitting awfully close to Sole…

“Hey, hotstuff. Let me buy you a drink, hm?”

He even sounded like a douche. Sole promptly ignored the guy, but judging by the expression on their face and the clench of their jaw they weren’t unaffected by the guy’s blunt flirting. They tried to start up the conversation with MacCready again, but the sniper was too busy glaring at the intruder over their shoulder.

“Hey, Sexy, I’m talking to you”

MacCready snapped when the douche put his hand on Sole’s shoulder, the vault dweller’s tensed expression causing his anger to flare even more. The sniper stood up, beer bottle nearly shattering as he slammed it down onto the counter, much to Charlie’s disapproval.

“Can’t you see they’re not interested?”

“Watch your mouth kid, I do what I want”

That was enough for MacCready to throw the first punch, nailing the guy directly in the nose and causing him to fall off the stool with a satisfying sound. He recovered quickly though, getting up and lashing out, nearly hitting MacCready in the jaw if it hadn’t been for the sniper’s fast reflexes. The ruckus had attracted the attention of the rest of the people in the bar, a small crowd forming and the song stopping. Sole even saw someone running up the stairs to get help.

The two guys were yelling harsh insults at each other, taking turns to throw punches and aim kicks. At one point Sole even saw MacCready’s forehead connect with the guy’s already broken nose, leaving a bloody smear on his forehead.

Deciding that enough was enough, Sole moved in to break up the fight. They didn’t even get two steps towards MacCready before getting an elbow to the face. By the sound of Sole’s surprised and pained exclaim, the fight halted and everyone quieted. MacCready looked unbelievably guilty behind all those bruises and small scratches on his face, a tiny trickle of blood on the left side of his mouth. But the vault dweller wasn’t having it and stepped in between the two, keeping their back pressed against MacCready’s heaving chest. The guy smirked confidently, seeming to believe that he had won for some reason.

“I’m pretty sure this belongs to you”

The guy didn’t even have time to reply ‘is it a kiss?’ before Sole’s fist had connected with his already double-broken nose, causing him to squeal and clutch his very broken and very bloodied nose, mutter a few choice names under his breath as he glared viciously at the smirking vault dweller and shell shocked mercenary. They could hear Hancock’s chuckle in the background.

Half an hour later and the guy was thrown out of Good Neighbor for good and the two had rented a hotel room, MacCready sitting on the bed while Sole tended to his bruises. He hadn’t stopped staring at their colorful eye with a guilty expression. Heaving a sigh after a few minutes of silence and staring, the vault dweller set down the damp bloodstained washcloth, hands cupping his face, mindful of the bruises and scratches. MacCready’s expression made them want to cry, but their voice only wobbled slightly as they sternly explained that nothing of what happened was his fault. It took a few hours and about fifty kisses, but Sole eventually got him to admit that he wasn’t to blame, and the other guy was. The rest of the evening was spent gently tracing the outlines of bruises and wounds while cuddling together on the tiny bed.

They found the corpse of the guy the next day on their way out into the wasteland, and made a mental note to thank Hancock for that when they returned.

Nick: Nick had only injured Sole once, since he handled them with an extreme delicateness as if they were made of glass. Glass usually doesn’t survive long in the Commonwealth, but hey, no harm in trying. Sole was rather annoyed by it, sure, but they couldn’t help but appreciate how much he cared about their wellbeing, even if it was a little overdone. The one time an accident happened was when Nick’s metal hand caught a few strands of their hair mid-kiss, the detective having been distracted by the suddenness of said kiss and forgotten his usual carefulness. It had taken a few minutes and Ellie’s help to untangle them, but despite it not having hurt much and Sole’s continuous reassurances of them being all right and it not having been his fault, Nick had opted to wearing worn gloves on both his hands for months after that.

The gloves had finally come off for good when Sole confronted the synth, burnt the gloves and the spares the detective tried to hide under the bed and grasped Nick’s metal hand. They’d ignored Nick’s flinch and hesitance as they raised the hand to their face, kissing every single metal finger, eyes never leaving his glowing yellow eyes. After that night Nick was banned from wearing gloves ever, but despite all this, he was still hesitant about touching Sole with his metal hand.

Piper: “Where is it… Hm, no… Nope…” Piper was digging through a large trunk in the search of her lucky pencil, tossing other ‘normal’ pencils over her shoulder. She always had it on her while doing interviews, claiming it gave her the courage to verbally attack people and pry answers out of them. Besides, having an extra pencil wasn’t a bad idea.

Unfortunately Sole hadn’t realized this, and upon stepping into the room, was struck by several pencils. A few smacked them in the face, one even leaving a small scratch next to their left eyebrow. They spluttered in surprise and ducked behind the desk for cover.

“Piper! Stop it!”

But once Piper had decided to do something, whether it was to stalk the mayor, prod at Danse for Brotherhood secrets or find her lucky pencil, there was no stopping her. Sole had to retreat, but hung up a warning on the front door before leaving.

Preston: Preston stared uncertainly at the bat in his hands, the wooden melee weapon a stranger to his hands as he was used to his trusty laser weapon. He had seen raiders use them before, running forwards and bashing it against the skulls of their enemies, often with a lethal result. They were powerful weapons, solid wood and often decorated with rusty nails or blades. But not this one. This one was a plain one.

Sole had approached him one day and tugged him off to the side, plucking the laser rifle from his hands and placing a plain wooden bat in them instead. They had explained that they wanted to introduce him and the other companions to baseball, pre-war style. It had taken quite a while to get the more impatient companions to actually listen to the vault dweller instead of whacking each other with the spare bats, but eventually they all stood in their positions on a field Sole had marked up. Preston was what he believed Sole called a ‘batter’ and Sole stood several meters in front of them in the middle of the strangely diamond shaped field, ready to throw a baseball at him.

It took five attempts, but eventually Preston managed to hit the ball and send it flying down the field, Piper and Hancock clad in blue chasing after it. Deacon too, as he had finally decided a team to stay on instead of shifting between the two constantly. The game continued like that, everyone struggling at first to hit it like they were supposed to, but they eventually began getting a hang of it. MacCready, Preston, Cait and surprisingly enough also Danse learned quickly and were rather good at it. Strong and Curie couldn’t quite get a hang of it and X6-88 had left the game after four minutes of standing and watching with obvious disinterest.

All had been well, blue team was in the lead and everyone was having a good time. Other than the occasional confusion about what team Deacon belonged to, of course. Preston was up again, standing ready with the third bat - the rest hadn’t survived the super mutant’s frustration - and watching Sole prepare to throw the ball. They threw. Preston hit it.

No one had expected it to soar right at Sole’s surprised face, smacking them right in the face and bringing them down onto the ground. It was silent for a few seconds before everyone rushed towards Sole, Preston’s face unnaturally pale and eyes wide. He couldn’t believe he just struck them in the face with a baseball! They’d never forgive him! Piper calmed Preston as Curie checked on Sole, said vault dweller groaning in annoyance over all the fussing and waving people away. They got onto their feet, determined to continue the game, but when they almost fell flat on their face everyone agreed that that was enough baseball for today. MacCready still hadn’t stopped laughing by then.

Sole’s face was bruised for weeks, eye swollen shut the first four days. Preston practically never left their side, constantly asking them if they needed anything. He sent other people out to the settlements and had Sturges take over his duties in the favor of staying with Sole despite their protests. He apologized officially with a picnic and a large bundle of wasteland flowers on day six, but the guilty expression didn’t vanish until the bruise did.

Despite this accident, baseball became a weekly occurrence at Sanctuary.

X6-88: The first time X6-88 accidentally hurt Sole was when said vault dweller decided to introduce the courser to Hancock. Looking back at it, it probably hadn’t been the best idea at the time, seeing as Sole hadn’t mentioned that Hancock was a ghoul. A non-feral, responsible mayor, but still a ghoul. Not to mention, X6-88 and Sole’s relationship had been rather new and sensitive at that point and X6-88’s protectiveness had been a very new feeling to the synth, one he had been struggling to figure out how to handle.

“Ghoul, get back!”

“X6, no! This is Hancock, he’s friendl-”

“He’s a ghoul! Step back!”

“X6, don’t you do it, don’t you dar- no!”

The courser and ghoul could only watch in shock as Sole threw themselves in front of the mayor, accepting the shot from X6’s laser rifle with a look of desperation. It took X6 a long time to snap out of it, and by the time he had, Hancock was already lifting Sole up to carry them to a medic. Enraged and filled with guilt, the courser snatched the vault dweller from the frustrated ghoul and with a bright blue glimpt they were both at the institute, laser weapon forgotten on the ground. Said weapon Hancock decided to sell off before the annoying synth could return.
At the institute, X6 refused to hand over Sole to the scientists and marched down towards the medical bay, synths and humans scrambling to get out of his way and away from the icy cold, murderous expression on his face. He never left their bed once, something that puzzled the scientists greatly.

Sole had agreed to have the scar removed after a few days recovery, just so X6 would stop staring at it with a heartbreakingly guilty expression every time they exposed their stomach. He only stopped apologizing when Sole accidentally shot him with their own laser weapon a few weeks later when messing around with it in boredom.

Maxson: It had been another one of those days where the position of Elder had proved to be too overwhelming for the young Maxson, the main cause being a vertibird crash into the center of a scottish settlement. The brotherhood learned never to underestimate others merely because of their accents and ranks as settlers. Why did the vertibirds continuously crash that often? That was the third time this week, were the pilots drunk or something?

Speaking of drunk, that was exactly how the Elder had chosen to cope with the stress and lack of sleep. Slumped in the seat of his chair, he held a ⅔ full bottle in one hand and a shotglass in the others, a few empty bottles carelessly tossed on the floor. His back was turned towards the door, and therefore he didn’t see who was entering. He only heard the sound of the door opening, and so far every bad news and demands of his presence had been signalled with that low creaking. Lips twisting into a scowl and the grip on the bottle tightening, he growled out a slurred ‘what’.

As much as Sole loved Maxson - only Arthur Maxson, they weren’t too fond of the more thick headed ‘Elder’ Maxson - they couldn’t allow this extreme drinking to continue any longer. He had drunk away the stress five times that month, two of them being within a span of six days. But before they even had the chance to say his name, Maxson had whipped around and thrown the bottle at them, believing them to be an intruder wanting something from him.

Maxson had never sobered up as fast as he did in the moment he realized who the bottle had been thrown at. He didn’t mean to, though! It just happened in the drunken haze he had forced himself into, but that didn’t make the sound of the bottle scattering and Sole’s body crumpling to the ground less heartstopping.



Sole woke up slowly, forehead furrowed and eyes closed as they tried to figure out where they were, and why. What had happened? The last thing they remembered was hearing from Cade that Maxson had once again locked himself in his room with the comfort of liquor. Then they had opened the door with their lockpicking set and-


Sole’s scowling face was what Maxson first saw when he woke up. His back was aching horridly and his head was pounding harshly. The Elder hadn’t left the spot next to Sole’s bed in Cade’s small clinic ever since the accident, despite Cade’s pleas. But Cade wasn’t there, and even though the bandages wrapped around Sole’s head and the stitched gashes on the side of their face made him feel a hundred times more guilty and sorry, he knew a kiss and a ‘sorry’ wouldn’t cut it this time, judging by the harshness of their glare despite the Med-x clouding their mind.

“Elder Arthur Maxson.”

Uh-oh. Full name plus title.

“- care to explain?”

He was screwed.


Another Sole Clinics custom is hitting the likes of some good connections. The special custom order is made for a private client from the OVO camp. The custom takes on the Air Jordan 5 silhouette featuring a Gold nubuck upper with accents of black throughout. The sneaker sports detailed OVO logos to complete the theme of the sneaker. While the custom is a very simple concept, the execution was flawless. What do you guys think of Sole Clinics’ newest creation?

Gold nubuck accent to represent oVo true colors and the recent success through hard work and loyalty. Anticipating a great year and many more success for both @Soleclinics and @WelcomeoVo” -Private client from the OVO camp