falloutkinkmeme_backup | Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

She was never certain how the art of espionage was performed, and even at this moment it made little sense to her. They were just as confined to the inside as Picus was, being told to patrol the upper level. It was boring and tedious and required taking orders from men who were most definitely not her superiors. Near the end of their rounds she was considering asking Vulpes to shoot her in the foot just to give her something to actually think about, but before she could even mumble the words to him one of the higher ups approached them.

It was a woman, mid-length chocolate brown hair falling to her shoulders. She could have been pretty, if not for the uniform she wore. “Hey, you two over there!”

Vulpes had made it blatantly clear that she shouldn’t speak unless spoken to and that she should mirror everything he did. So when he saluted the woman, she resigned herself to do the same. At least one thing could never be taken away from her in this horrid disguise—she could keep her frown for as long as she wanted, nobody would question. The wastes were a bitch, after all.

“How can we help you, Lieutenant?” Vulpes kept conversation quick and to the point, most likely for her sake. The Lieutenant, Carling, she told them to call her, was sizing them both up, a smirk on her pretty pink lips.

“You boys at the end of your shift? How about you come back with me for a little bit? I haven’t had a break since the monorail got blown up, and you two look like the answer to my prayers. I haven’t seen a fresh face in months, let me tell you.” Valence couldn’t control the look of disgust that plastered itself on her face. Vulpes was a better actor than she was.

“No thank you, Lieutenant. I’m afraid we’ll have to pass you up on the offer.” He clapped a hand roughly on Valence’s back, apparently some sort of friendly military gesture. She wasn’t a fan of it, seeing as how it had surprised her enough to nearly trigger her own combat instincts. Fortunately for everyone the only weapon she had on hand was a service rifle.

Lieutenant Carling frowned, rolling her eyes at the two of them. “What are you two, fuck buddies or something? Gay like those Legion bastards?”

Valence took pride in the fact that she was able to turn her quickly overburdening anger into a completely neutral face, something she didn’t know she was capable of. Perhaps somewhere in her subconscious she was reminded of Vulpes’ whispered information of her promotion, and the warning that she be on her best behavior.

Vulpes only laughed at her crude comment, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. I’ve got a girl back home, and he’s married with a child on the way.” The excuse was a good one, something she wouldn’t have thought up herself in her rage. Carling looked at least… vaguely understanding of the necessities of being faithful to ones partner. The woman rolled her eyes.

“Huh, go figure. The first attractive males to get sent here in nearly forever and they’re both taken. Looks like I’ll be going back to sneaking glances at Colonel Hsu then… What are your names, privates?”

“Riese.”

“Spatz.”

Carling grinned at Valence, placing a hand on her hip. “You look a lot like a man I used to know, Spatz. He spent a lot of time frowning too, wasn’t very approachable either. He worked in 1st Recon until about a year ago, moved away to some nowhere town with his spotter and his wife. Wonder how he’s doing now.”

Valence wanted desperately to tell her exactly how badly Craig Boone was doing, but it wasn’t the time for that. Instead, she grunted, frowning again.

They saluted the woman when she bid them good day and made their way out to a starlit sky to keep an eye on the area. She hadn’t done much talking to the other NCR members and hadn’t bothered with anything that wasn’t her business on her last visit to destroy the monorail. Vulpes brought this up with her and gave her short instructions. “Keep an eye on what’s going on in the camp. I’m going to patrol the perimeter.” She nodded silently, giving him the affirmative that she would be alright on her own.

She could hear snippets of conversation from what she decided were the barracks. She took a turn and stepped into the tent. She made sure to keep herself on the objective of finding a bunk to sleep in. She took the lower one, closer to the level of conversation and listened in quietly.

“—Hsu to stop sending us out to deal with the Fiends. They should be sending rangers for that, they’re better off at closer distances. We’re 1st Recon, we need to keep back or we’re entirely compromised. And look what happened to Betsy—she really needs to go get some help.” The two men that were talking had their back to her anyway, so she watched them as they spoke.

“Well regardless of what we want we’re going to go out tomorrow afternoon. It’s much too late to bring up the issue with him. Let’s just hope that we can finally take them all down.”

There was a problem with Fiends here, it seemed. Tomorrow afternoon two members of 1st Recon would go away to deal with this issue. This would be a good opportunity to strike. She’d let Vulpes know when he got back, since he was the one reporting findings to the Centurion that was to lead the raiding party.

The 1st Recon snipers continued to chatter away quietly, mostly speaking about the Betsy woman. She loathed to be confined to one spot for too long with no purpose, but she was getting tired. She finally let her eyes close, drifting off. She found herself dreaming of red armor, strong men, enemy soldiers and tortured women.

-

In the morning it was Vulpes who shook her awake. They were the only two in the tent she assumed, because he began talking about their mission, quietly, but still openly, something he would never do if he thought they were being watched. “Two breaks in shift, at 12 AM and PM. Furthermore, the youngest guard drinks on the job.”

She let a laugh fall through frowning lips. “I knew there was a good reason Caesar didn’t allow such things in his camp. The NCR is growing too bold here. These men should know that the group is only as strong as their weakest link.”

“Do you have anything of interest to share?” He asked, and she nodded, sliding herself off of the bed.

“1st Recon inhabits this camp. However, this afternoon, two of them will be leaving to take care of a problem with some Fiends. The perfect opportunity to be exploited, since the less of them around the better.”

Vulpes seemed to think about this for a moment. “It would be best to get moving then. We’ll depart in two hours, during the next shift change.”

“Alright. Let’s move then.”

Two hours passed by slowly for her. At least she was able to get herself a Nuka Cola from the cafeteria, a drink she found herself craving frequently after her memory loss due to being shot in the head. During their shift she thought a lot about the woman in 1st Recon. “Have you ever heard of a woman here? One in the sniper unit, I mean?”

Vulpes looked at her, the sunglasses he was wearing today blocking her from seeing his eyes. “Corporal Betsy Addeline. What of her?”

She was a little surprised that he immediately knew who she was talking about, but it was his job to keep tabs on people. She took a sip of her soda. “What do you know about her?

She noticed the way his brow arched at the question. “Standard NCR scum. She was placed in charge of eliminating a pack of fiends about a month ago, but there were no results. Some say she came back… different.” Vulpes had a way with words, she thought. She grunted in response, going back to looking over the edge of the railing.

Eventually the time came to leave and they managed to slip out of the camp undetected. They collected their armor on the way to meeting the raiding party, something Valence was eternally grateful for, but Vulpes kept moving along in those hideous fatigues. When they met up with the legionaries she took a quick look around for a Centurion, a Decanus even, but could only pinpoint a couple of veterans as the highest ranking members of the squad. She looked to Vulpes, who was inspecting the group as she had been a moment ago. “You’ll be leading them in then? I don’t see anyone else.”

Vulpes smirked at her, pointed canines peeking from under his lips. “No. You will. Good luck.” She scowled when he began walking away.

“Vulpes!”

“Until we meet again, Valence. Vale.” And he disappeared into the wastes.

Valence growled, turning to face the men she had been assigned to. She wasn’t prepared for this in the slightest, but she’d have to make due. She counted 10 veterans excluding herself, 11 primes, 18 recruits, and, much to her surprise, a man she knew to be an assassin was there as well. They usually worked in their own units, but she would be able to make use of this. She was leading a group of 40 men—a job made for 4 or 5 Decanii had been placed in her hands. The ultimate test of leadership to become a Centurion, she supposed, or as close to a test as Caesar could get at the moment. Camp McCarran was important to the NCR, and burning it to the ground was an important task, one that she would not and could not fail. He had much faith in her it seemed. She never disappointed.

“We will strike at 7, sharp. Quick kills, and leave a couple to crucify. There’s a man in there who’s acting on behalf of Lord Caesar, so he is to remain untouched as well, I trust that you’ll know him when you see him.” She gave them all a stern look, and then turned to the assassin. “You. What are you doing here?”

The man was respectful enough. “Lord Caesar told me to come here as well.”

Valence nodded. “Hm. Alright then. You have a special job. Colonel Hsu is to be eliminated, his body brought to me upon completion of this task. I dislike failure. You’re well trained, so I won’t lecture you on layouts or battle technique. You should all know how to do your job by now…” There was one more thing to attend to. She pointed at one of the veterans, curling her finger in a silent request to come closer. The man walked up to her, nodding. “Yes?”

He was slightly taller than her, about the same height as Vulpes. Lean but muscled, looked to have a strong back. He had a hunting rifle and his machete for close combat. He would do nicely.

“What is your name?” She thought she could see him rolling his eyes under the goggles he wore, but he replied quickly enough.

“Laelius.”

“You are to lead a group of 10 to the tents. There are 1st Reconnaissance members there. Take them all out.” She thought for a moment, and then corrected herself. “Leave the woman. I would like to see her with my own eyes. The rest of you,” here she spoke to the group again. “Are to focus on the building. There are many NCR inside there. Take the majority out.” She checked her pip-boy for the time.

“Let’s begin traveling, shall we?”

-

Valence wiped the blood from her goggles as she gutted another trooper. Gunshots rang loud in her ears. She almost wished she had her zap glove with her, but she had left it at the camp in favor of the thermic lance she twirled in her fingertips. A few screams came from the cafeteria and she scowled pleasantly.

Music to her ears.

Something about ending the lives of dissolutes was amazing to her. The way they would eventually be reduced to pleading for their lives was disgusting, and knowing that she could finish them off so easily was empowering. Her men inside the building had everything under control, even though they were outnumbered. A couple of the recruits had been shot down, but by the time she started sending the veterans in she could see progress in their combat position. They were winning.

She went back outside to check on the rest of the men. The recruits had done well in keeping the soldiers outside at bay, and she saw a 1st Recon beret on the ground, besides the body of some scrawny looking boychild. She scooped it up and entered a particularly noisy tent.

“I was starting to wonder if you’d ever show up. The woman is here.” Laelius nodded to her; judging by the blooming bruises on her face it seemed she had received quite a beating from the men in the tent. Valence approached the woman, who was glaring up at her, still prideful despite her situation.

She removed the goggles from her eyes to get a better look. A feminine face, but only if you knew what to look for. Hair as short as hers, and if the Corporal stood she would be much taller than Valence could ever hope to be. A woman serving in an army of mostly men; surrounded by the men in her unit.

She scowled, although no one could see it because of the bandana around her face. “You are an interesting woman.” She stated simply, looking down into dark blue eyes.

Betsy didn’t have anything to say to her, it seemed. She spat at Valence’s feet, not saying a word.

Valence snorted. “It’s your lucky day, Corporal. I’m going to let you out of here alive. You should thank your teammates—they spoke highly of you. So I’d suggest you leave. Now.” She leaned down, their noses almost touching through fabric. “Go, Corporal Betsy. Go and get help, and reconsider your position in this army. It’s difficult to get by as a woman, wouldn’t you agree?”

Betsy’s eyes narrowed, then grew wide. “You’re… you’re a woman.” She whispered, so quiet that she was sure no one else had heard.

“Go.”

She stood back and moved away as Corporal Betsy Addeline tore out of the tent. She must have knocked into one of the other legionaries as she left because she heard a grumbled profligate whore from outside of the tent. She looked to see who had arrived; it was the assassin, with the body of Colonel James Hsu in his arms. It was dumped unceremoniously to the floor.

“Just in time. May I?” She extended a hand to Laelius for his machete and it was handed over without complaint. She went right to work, cutting the man’s head off of his neck, muscles and blood painting the dirt a deep red. It had been a fine day, she thought.

This camp was hers.

After sending the recruits around to look for any useful equipment to recover she had ordered the bodies to be piled outside to burn, and the remaining captives to be crucified around the flames. Picus was long gone, Betsy as well, she assumed. She let Laelius hang the flag of the Legion outside of the gates, and she placed the severed head of Colonel Hsu on the other side, impaled through a spear. A message for the 1st Recon members that were sure to come back eventually.

It took the rest of the evening to get back to the Fort with such a large group of people, and by the time they arrived she was in the mood to do nothing but sleep. But of course, Caesar had her summoned into his tent.

They spoke for ten minutes, and he commented on her actions and commended her efforts. The quiet congratulations and the pat on the shoulder she received from Lucius made her happy she hadn’t gone to bed so soon.

She entered the tent Valence, veteran legionaire and emerged from it Faustus Zephyrus, Centurion.

-

“So how did it go?” Vulpes greeted her in the new tent she was given, this one even farther in the camp, at the edge, close to the camp of the Legate.

“Oh shut up, I already know you were watching me the whole time.” She scowled, putting her bag next to the bed, the actual bed that she would be sleeping in. Vulpes was in another one, only a few feet from hers.

“I meant with Caesar, Valence.”

She grimaced, an attempt on her part at a smile. “I’ve done it. I’ve made it to Centurion.” He definitely knew this already since he was in her new tent, but she told him anyway. She showed him the helmet Caesar had given to her, and he nodded in approval.

“Put it on then.” She did as he told and frowned at him.

“Well? How do I look?”

Vulpes snorted, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You look respectable.”

Valence looked at him quietly, before replying. “And you look like an idiot. Take those off.” She pointed to the NCR uniform he was still wearing.

Surprisingly enough, he listened, only requesting that she tell him of her conversation with Caesar. They readied themselves for bed, the only light coming from an oil lamp on a small table between them. “Caesar has made me one of the Centurions of this very camp. It’s large enough, and with the new recruits I should have much to look over. Although a part of me suspects that he wants to keep me close for my medical knowledge as well.”

“An understandable choice.”

“Yes. He said I would be assigned my Decanii tomorrow, but for tonight I could sleep on the fact that I am now Faustus Zephyrus, Centurion of Caesar’s Legion.”

Vulpes made an appreciative noise at the name. “You do speak fluent Latin, correct?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you know the meaning of your name. It fits you.”

Valence rolled her eyes, turning to the other side. “Yes, of course. Goodnight, Vulpes.”

“Goodnight, Valence.”

The light was extinguished.

(If anyone is wondering, Faustus means lucky (favorable, propitious) and Zephyrus is west wind (or western breeze). Yes, the title is a bad reference to That Lucky Old Sun. Please don't kill me. Anywho, I'll be back soon with more of this.)

just
please

Are you sure you're old enough to legally participate on the meme here?

The Courier finds themself enjoying Ulysses' broadcasts on a more visceral level than he might intend. He decides to exploit this. Courier of either sex is fine.

I hope this comment was sarcastic or joking. I mean really. Come on.

However i love this prompt. I think it would be adorable !!!

Willow came crashing into the Ninth Circle her face was matted with blood and her gun was withdrawn. Charon immediately took on a defence stance aiming his shotgun towards the much smaller ghoul.

"Not me idiot !" she screamed "Outside. Too many, they will get into underworld. We need him !" Willow screamed this towards Azrukhal while she pointed a sharp finger at Charon.
Azrukhal frowned, he would have caps before he gave away Charon but judging by Willows' appearance he would lose a lot more if he didn't let him fight.

"Go!" Azrukhal bellowed and Charon, without missing a beat, followed the flustered female ghoul.

When the final set out doors swung open Charon was met with chaos. Willow rejoined the fight standing by Quinn. Charon quickly started bringing down super mutants. The feel of his gun and the air created a buzz within him.

Strangely a group of super mutants in the trenches fell. Nothing had touched then. Charon frowned not sure what to think of the sight. Willow however gave a loud laugh.

"That's a girl !" She screamed.

Charons perception caused him to focus in on the trenches. A shimmering shape gracefully danced between the super mutants creating lines of blood and their throats before they had time to fight the attacker. Some ghoul was using a stealth boy. Charon smirked. It was effective.

He continued to keep the on coming mutants at bay. Giving feral shouts when some got close enough to knife. Once the battle had died down he holstered his weapon ready to return to his wall.

Then he heard it. A yelp. A supermutant had found a pole and held it in the air. It hit nothing, however blood dropped down its tip. With a flickering of light the tip disappeared revealing a stomach. The stealth boy user was not a ghoul but a woman. A very young woman. Charons eyes grew wide as she let out a strangled gasp.

Before he could stop his own feet he began to run towards the impaled girl.

The Courier is beautiful, smart, strong, and super talented! Everyone wants to fight by her side!
She's also... a puppet. Being operated by a man in his thirties. She's an old world relic, realistic and life-like, but that doesn't change the fact there's a man with his hand shoved in her back.
Would like some silly fluffy fun with the group dealing with their leader being a puppet. Specifically, dealing with the puppeteer refusing to accept he's his own person.

Tl;dr courier lady is actually a literal puppet worked by an older man, and this makes life hard for "her" allies.

...I'll be honest, this was inspired by the manga Sumire 17, over on. mangafox. No shame!

/screams internally

So, if anyone here has ever seen it, there's this show ABC now called Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23. Despite my initial opinions on it I LOVE IT.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxbiZMRt1gk (The trailer, for explanatory purposes)

What if F!Courier was just a super self-interested bitch, who was best friends with some wasteland celebrity (Mr. House, Aaron Kimball, Caesar) and her companions, who have recently moved in with her, have yet to realize that she has a very... roundabout way of treating her friends. Does she take Veronica's power fist while she's sleeping, but only because it was going to haywire on her and blow her face up? Burn all of Arcade's books, but only because there are bedbugs in them? Take Boone's beret and hide it from him as a lesson to help him get over the past? It's totally up to you, anon.

Tl;dr: Since this is a little detailed (sue me, this is my first prompt) basically what I want is a F!Courier who's a best friends with a major Mojave icon (I'd prefer House, but go wild), and her companions always think she's being a bitch until they realize that she was trying to help them in some way.

And promises updates soon-ish. SO SORRY

I have two fills to finish, but when I do, Im doing this. It will take forever an a day, but it will be done.

May God have mercy on Boone's soul- you'll finally see the shit he has to put up with xD

OP is late ss HELL to the party but congradulates AA on a job well done. This is absolutely lovely and wonderful. I enjoyed it immensely!

Basically... the title. Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.

Could be cracky or serious, I'd be happy with either. I do have some requests however....

If writing for New Vegas, I request that the surviving group of strangers that band together to kick ass include: Courier and their gang (Veronica, Arcade, Boone, etc...), Ringo, Benny, Vulpes Inculta and Lucius, Chief Hanlon, The King, and Fisto.

If writing for Fallout 3...: Lone Wanderer and their gang (Butch-man, Charon, Jericho, Dogmeat, etc...), Moira, Mr. Burke, Gob, Flak and Shrapnel, Harkness (of course, lololol), Vance, and Sydney.

If anyone can think of other people for the survivor group, suggest it!

I just have the biggest crush on Raul; thus thank you for writing this piece and stuff.

Your characterization of Raul is really great and I love it!

A little Gob loving fic. My one big request is that it's set in Moriarty's Bar and the line, 'You need to be quiet smoothskin,' is said. So attempting quiet sex for F!LW. Bonus points if Nova is with a John in the next room (I don't care who) and realises what's going on and becomes louder to cover any noises. LOL.

Please oh please someone give me a Three Dog/F!LW fic. I've seen the M!LW fics but no F!LW fics.

No real requests but it could maybe be the LW takes Three Dog up on his offer of a bed?

This is all I need in my life. I love it.

I like where this is going. /me gusta

nice start!

Not even the son of Mars himself can resist the dashingly psychotic Mr. Fox. Or maybe Caesar needs some relief and he just doesn't trust anyone else? Awkward courting ensures? Or not, whatever you can give me is fantastic- I just want more of this sexy, sexy pairing!

Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.

That Lucky West Wind (2/?)

That Lucky West Wind (3/?)

That Lucky West Wind (4/?)

That Lucky West Wind (5/?)

That Lucky West Wind (6/?)

That Lucky West Wind (7/7)

FLW/Gob -- Princess and the Frog AU

Re: FLW/Gob -- Princess and the Frog AU

Courier/Ulysses, dirty talk/voicekink

Re: FLW/Gob -- Princess and the Frog AU

The choice (1a/?)

F!C followers - fluff/wtf-ery with puppets

Re: Greener Pastures (7c/?)

Don't Trust Your Roommate from the Lucky 38

A!A is horrible, horrible people

Re: Oh shit, you're the Courier!

Re: Swimming Lessons 4/4

Zombie Apocalype in Post-Apocalyptic land!

Re: No School Like Old School 7/7

Gob/F!LW

F!LW and Three Dog

Re: Gob/F!LW

Re: The choice (1a/?)

Re: The choice (1a/?)

Caesar/Vulpes Inculta