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

I'd like a fill where James is lost somewhere out in the Capital Wasteland and is attacked by a pack of stray dogs. Get it, because Liam Neeson is the voice actor and he was just in that movie--forget it. But seriously, pretty please?

Characters: Vulpes Inculta, F!Courier, Cass, Veronica, Sarah Weintraub, Red Lucy, Julie Farkas, Boyd, Francine Garret
Pairings: None
Kinks: Crack
Summary: The Courier plays a sleepover game with a disguised Vulpes Inculta. Also, the rules for Destiny are here: http://placentalmammal.tumblr.com/post/23388239043/the-rules-for-destiny

Vulpes Inculta surveyed the giggling ring of women with disdain, his chest hairs curling conspicuously over the low neckline of his pretty nightgown. The Courier had called for a 18 hour meeting of the region's most influential women -Rose of Sharon Cassidy, Veronica Santangelo, Sarah Weintraub, Red Lucy, Julie Farkas, Lieutenant Carrie Boyd, and Francine Garrett- and the Frumentarius could only assume she was planning to form some sort of woman-oriented counter-agency in her desperate attempts to stem the tide of Caesar's Legion.

His only choice, as Caesar's most trusted field agent, was to disguise himself as a woman and infiltrate the Lucky 38. He donned a scavenged wig; dressed himself in filthy woman's clothing that was, nevetheless, silken and doing fetching things to his figure; and snuck into the Lucky 38. Procuring the wig had been the most difficult part of the operation, as the Courier and her ilk were eager to accept 'Linda' into their ranks.

First, they had watched a horrifying film about giant, savage locusts ravaging a prewar city and murdering its residents. The woman shrieked and laughed. Vulpes alone was disturbed by the mutated insects and their havoc. He realized that these women were hardened killers, not simple weak-minded women. Caesar had a formidable opponent in the Courier's "Girls' Club."

The movie ended, and talk rapidly turned to fortune telling. Veronica Santangelo proposed using some strange, supernatural means to determine each of the women's destinies. Vulpes watched in abject horror as paper and pen were procured, and the Brotherhood Outcast prompted Sarah Weintraub to name four girls and fifteen boys. There was more shrieking laughter as lewd sex acts were named and the men were claimed. At the end of the divination, Veronica announced that Sarah's destiny was to be the subject of pornographic films with Colonel Hsu.

Vulpes had encountered tribal superstition before, but never among women claiming to be enlightened as these. The Courier was known for programing robots and constructing laser weapons in caves with only cast-off parts, but her eyes lit up as she named names and called out numbers.

He watched in sullen silence, his brain reeling, until the eight women turned on him.

"Okay, Linda," said Veronica Santangelo, "It's your turn. Four girls and fifteen guys."

He did not wish to be caught up in their strange witchcraft, but he couldn't refuse without compromising his cover. He swallowed nervously and named four members of the circle. "Carrie, Cass, Lucy, and Francine."

Veronica nodded and wrote the names down, the scratch of the pen on paper and the giggles of the other girls the only sound.

"Now 15 guys. You get two celebrities and I get to pick one. Go."

"Honored Caesar, Lucius, noble Alerio..." His mind went blank and he struggled to recall more names. He did not often learn the names of those he served with and those who served under him, they were replaceable as boot laces. "Dead Sea, and Canyon Runner..." He realized that naming only Legionaries would be suspect, and he quickly changed gears.

"Elder MacNamara, Benny of the Strip, Raul Tejada, Craig Boone-"

Cass interrupted him. "The King, Dean Martin, FISTO, Vulpes Inculta."

Vulpes blanched at the mention of his own name, but if any of the women noticed, they made no mention of it.

Sarah laughed. "Yeah, that's a good one. The guy's scary but he has nice hands." Vulpes looked down at his hands. They were rather nice, now that he took a moment to consider them.

Veronica finished the list with a name of her choosing (Marcus of Jacobstown), and she began asking him to chose husbands for the women on the list. The women looked over her shoulder and laughed or made faces as the couplings were determined.

Veronica asked him who he was to marry, and he chose a number. She named sex acts and asked him for participants, she came up with improbable scenarios and asked for his input. All the while, the women arrayed about her shrieked with laughter.

And then it came time to read the destinies.

"Can you see Carrie marrying FISTO?"

The Lieutenant pulled a face and Vulpes shook his head.

"Howabout Lucy and Dean Martin?"

Another shake of his head. Every coupling seemed strange and improbable. He did not understand their witchery, and it terrified him. Veronica read off the entire list, and Vulpes was forced to answer 'no' to almost every item she named.

"Can you see yourself having a torrid love affair with Vulpes Inculta?"

He had never considered the possibility, but it was a more appealing one than any of the other fates on the list (he almost certainly did not want to bear Craig Boone's child, and it seemed unrealistic to assume that could spend a weekend at Gomorrah with Dean Martin). He was handsome, young, strong, and as Sarah had said, he had nice hands.

He stuck his chin out defiantly. "Yes," he said.

"Oooo, someone has a crush!" Red Lucy said.

Vulpes was too proud to back down. "It is no great shame to admire strength and beauty."

"He does have a nice voice," said Francine Garret.

"And nice hands!" said Lucy.

They were right. Vulpes had nice hands and a nice voice, and the nightgown was the finest article of clothing he had ever worn. Strange and frightening as their motives and their fortune-telling were, they were correct in their judgment of his body. His body was nice.

Veronica finished reading the list, and laughed as she read his destiny. "You're going to have a 3-way with Caesar and Benny! Oh, gross!"

They could not contain their laughter, and eventually, Lily came in to make them turn the lights out and go to bed. Vulpes crept away to radio Caesar.

"They practice divination, my Lord. The Courier believes herself destined to have play 'naked Twister' with the whore Santiago. I don't know what it means, My Lord, but we won't be caught unprepared when it happens."

I LOVE YOU WRITE!ANON WITH ALL MY HEART AND SOUL.

This is amazing. Aaaamaaaaaazing. <3

Unf! This.... this is perfect in all possible ways. You get all of my love, A!A. ALL of it!

LMAO! Thank you, dear author. This is glorious. XD

Wow... That was so well written, especially in the format you chose for it. I usually don't like stories where the main character is nameless, but in this case he does it to preserve his reputation and that makes it much more "real" for me.

This may become a multi-fill, if I can get things to go my way.

Post-apocalyptic America is a 10th kingdom, thus far unknown to the inhabitants of the other nine kingdoms. The courier (or LW, if you so choose) and their gang are dragged into trouble when a prince from one of the kingdoms is turned into a dog and escapes into the 10th.
For more info on the TV series, click here (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_10th_Kingdom), potential A!As.

Pairing: FLW/Butch
Kinks: angst
Note: Kind of took on a life of its own. Sorry!

Butch said he wanted to go home, so she took him home. There was no point in arguing; this turn of events had been years in the making, and it was all her doing.

Besides, she loved him well enough to know when Butch truly, whole-heartedly believed something. He got this look in his remaining blue eye (he had lost the other one years ago in a bar fight she had started) that told her that she was going to shut the fuck up and do what he wanted for once. He didn’t give her that look often, and when he did, she acquiesced, hoping that a compromise here and there would be enough to keep him around.

It had worked for eight long years, but that was because they had loved each other. Yes, love. She knew what people said about her, but she was capable of love. She just happened to also be capable of blowing up a town in exchange for a suite. And engaging in the slave trade. And poisoning a good portion of the Capital Wasteland.

She supposed it was a good run, considering Butch had quickly outgrown his Tunnel Snake mentality once he was outside of the Vault. With it went he taste for senseless violence. She, on the other hand, grew to relish it. For a while, Butch blamed himself for bullying her in the Vault, then he blamed the Autumn for killing her father in front of her. Neither of those was the reason she was the way she was, but she let him say it because it helped him justify staying with her.

Somewhere along the line, he had run out of excuses, and when he had caught her coming out of the clinic in Megaton, she had known that this was it. She offered no lies or excuses when he demanded to know what she was doing there, simply told him that the fetus had been terminated.

She didn’t even wish that she could take it back, and she thought that that was the straw that had finally broken the Brahmin’s back. She didn’t want a child, not with him, and not with anyone.

And now Butch didn’t want her.

Regret would have made it better, she thought. But all she was left with was emptiness as the Vault door rolled open.

Butch took a step into the Vault, then paused and turned to look at her. She took in the eye patch, the well-worn leather jacket with the faded snake on the back and a bullet hole through the left sleeve. The perfectly styled hair. The bulging bag over his shoulder containing all the things he had bought for the baby they might have had.

“Coming or not?” he demanded.

“I….” She paused, cleared her throat. “No.”

“Why not? Ain’t like anyone in here really knows what a fuckin’ monster you are.”

She felt the phantom flicker of hurt that only Butch could inspire in her. “Exactly. They don’t know, and… I want to keep it that way.”

Butch laughed nastily, a bitter sound that grated in her ears. “I ain’t gonna broadcast it, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just gonna drink myself stupid til’ my liver gives out; I won’t be no trouble.”

“Butch….” She said his name like a prayer, her last desperate hope that this wasn’t really happening, that she wasn’t this person. “I… I’ve hurt a lot of people. I’ve done a lot of bad things. I’ve killed… so many people. And I liked it. But the only good thing I had, the only person I never wanted to hurt was you.”

There was no trace of any of the love and passion they had shared for so long when he said, “Well, you fucked that up when you killed our kid.”

She couldn’t help the lump that formed in her throat. She had no conscience, no morals, no remorse. What she had was her love for Butch, and she was losing him.

“I know I fucked up. And that’s why I can’t go with you. I’ll just fuck up again, somehow, if you let me.” She almost said she loved him, but she knew her words would be wasted. He knew. He just didn’t feel the same way anymore.

She thought she could detect a hint of mercy in his blue eye. “If you’d just say you were sorry.” It wasn’t a condition or a suggestion. It was the same weary mantra he had been repeating for years, and she knew her line as well as she knew every scar on his body.

“But I’m not.”

They said nothing as the door slid shut between them. There was nothing to say.

The Lone Wanderer wiped her eyes and turned away. She was not sorry… and she never would be.

life is fragile, life is cheap.
sex and death is what we have together.

Amelia has been in the wastes for five long years; she has seen both the best and worst that the shattered remnants of America have to offer.

And she has known happiness like she never did in the vault.

She has made friends and saved settlements; she has healed wounds and dismantled bombs.

All of this by the age of twenty.

And now, at twenty-four, she is tired, so tired, and she is scarred. The scars aren't just physical, no; some are mental and all too present. Sure, the physical are there, always visible, thick bands of white and pink tissue criss-crossing over sun-darkened skin, shiny and new and reminding her of all she has accomplished -- shutting down the president, taking on the Enclave, giving the wastes pure, clean water. It is the mental scars that hurt most. She never expects it when something hits on those scars; never expects the tears when something reminds her of her father or her time in the vault or of how Fawkes and Star Paladin Cross had died for her. Those scars are why she doesn't think of the bad she's done -- the people she's had to enslave so she could help free others; those she's had to kill to push forward; the people she's had to pick off just to be able to survive; even the people that she's only indirectly killed.

She has done so much she is proud of, and even more that she's not.

Butch is still with her, her constant; a reminder of home and happier times. She is grateful that he hasn't left her (and even more grateful that he hasn't managed to drink his liver into submission yet), because she needs him here -- needs someone strong by her side to keep her from losing her mind.

Because the more she thinks about it, the more she thinks she's going to go crazy. This only gets worse when she wakes up one day to Butch in her face, repeating, over and over "There's a message from the vault, Amy; there's a message from the vault!"

At first, she doesn't think anything of it; figures it's some routine message like she'd caught before, when she'd just left. It isn't. It's Amata -- Overseer Almodovar, the second coming -- calling her back, telling her that, if she's alive, she'd like a chance to speak to her again.

It takes her three days of internal arguments to convince herself to go, and another two to get Butch to come with her (and he bitches the whole walk there: "I don't get why you wanna go back anyways, Amy; she kicked you out, remember?" and "She's an ungrateful bitch" and every time he speaks, she just rolls her eyes and says "She was my best friend").

When they arrive at the vault, she's surprised to find the door already open, Amata standing in the doorway with a handful of guards behind her. They have a tearful reunion, and Butch stands by awkwardly, clearly not anymore pleased to see Amata than she is to see him. Amata directs the guards to take butch to the diner, and she leads Amelia to her office so they can talk.

“I know it's been a long time, Amy,” she says gently, frowning, “but I had something I wanted to ask you.”

Amelia has half a mind to tell her to go straight to hell, because the last time she'd asked for something, it had ended with her being kicked out of the vault, but instead, she bites her tongue, nods. “What?”

“Would you like to come back to the vault? Permanently, I mean – your room's yours, if you want it.”

Amelia bursts into tears, stutters out a thanks and an apology, covers her face with her hands. “I can't. I can't, Amata – if you knew, if you knew the things I'd done... You wouldn't want me here.”

Amata clearly doesn't understand – she spends the next few minutes calming Amelia down, getting her friend to the point where she's forming words and not just making sounds through her tears. “What do you mean?”

“I mean – I mean... I've done so many things, Amata, so many things out there. And I'm not proud of so many of those things. You don't – no, don't you dare interrupt me, Amata Almodovar! I've done terrible things. I've killed people – innocent people – and I've enslaved them. Do you know how many people I've killed, Amata, just because I needed what they had, so I could survive?” She looses a bitter laugh through her tears, pushes a hand through her hair. It hurts to remember. “I've sent people on dead-end errands just because I knew it would be easier to deal; I helped the ghouls into Tenpenny Tower, Amata, and I knew what they would do! I knew they'd kill everyone, and I helped them anyways!”

She runs a hand over the side of her face, sighs heavily, hiccups. Amata looks torn between being horrified and sympathetic. “Amelia, when I offered you a place here, I meant it. I'm not going to retract that because of things you've done.”

Amelia looks skeptical. “I've killed people, Amata, and aside from that, I can't just leave Bu--”

“Butch can come, too, if you're dead set on it.” It's clear she's not pleased the statement, but she says it regardless; watches as Amelia's face takes on a light she's never seen.

“I'll... I'll talk to Butch about it, Amata. Thank you.”

When she does speak to Butch about it, it's clear he wants to tell Amata off and go back to the wastes. Amelia understands that, had the same feeling, but she talks him down, explains that it's a safe haven – “and Amata has opened the vault,” she reminds him, “we're allowed in and out. Think of the beds, Butch!” And it's sad that the beds are what seems to seal the deal for her lover, but she understands the motivation there as well.

Butch is vehemently against their moving back into the vault until the first night spent in a real bed.

OP here! this was beautiful, omg.
It was so sad and just, ugh.

You remember, the bouncer in the Muddy Rudder in Rivet City?

Just want to see some straight-up little bit of consensual smut involving him and a F!LW who likes them big and strong.
Please?

I mean...

There they are, the courier/LW, travelling the Wasteland/Mojave for weeks and weeks...

So, in a world devoid of bog paper, what do they/their companions do when they have to... you know?

Thirding!

This is pretty awesome! Continue please!

Vulpes/Lanius/Lucius/OC!Legionary thinks of everyone he meets as potential slaves. The price for their attractiveness, strength, and any other benefits flashes through his mind when interacting with them.

Can contain smut, but doesn't have to- could just be him struggling to carry on a normal interaction with a Profligate.

The interaction is just so sweet!

Nuclear winter is coming.

whoaa, I likey. good job :)

/OP
/I think
/idk I haven't actually been on this meme in ages so

Joy! I am loving this fic! Keep it up :D

Oh my. This is powerful. Good writing.

The more the merrier :D

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

James: fighting stray dogs

Destiny, 1/2

Destiny, 2/2

Re: Destiny, 2/2

Re: Destiny, 2/2

Re: Destiny, 2/2

Re: OP Autofill: The Glowing One, 7/7

Re: F!LW and Three Dog

Gen - The 10th Kingdom AU

FLW/Butch: Nothing and Never

red lucy/ vulpes inculta

Lord, I've Been Trying- Gen (1/2)

Lord, I've Been Trying- Gen (2/2)

Re: FLW/Butch: Nothing and Never

Fallout 3: F!LW/Brock

Anyone, Genfic (possibly crack): TOILET PAPER (or the lack thereof)

Re: F!Courier + Lucius + Vulpes Inculta + Antony - Legion Carwash Fundraiser

Re: Skinless 3e/?

Legion objectifies everyone

Re: Stronger than death itself 9c/?

Re: New Vegas, Game of Thrones AU

Re: Pugnat Fortier (1/1)

Re: The Choice (2b/?)

Re: FLW/Butch: Nothing and Never

Re: F!LW and Three Dog