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

[falloutkinkmeme_backup]

Welcome to the Fallout Kink Meme, Part IV! Please assume the position.

GO TO THE LATEST PAGE TO POST NEW PROMPTS

---

PINBOARD ARCHIVE: Filled Prompts | Unfilled Prompts

• Fallout Kink Meme posting guidelines


• Read something? Love something? No matter how old the story is, please let our amazing authors and artists know that you enjoyed their work with a nice comment, and share the love by recommending your favorite fills!

Comments

Gen, LW, Amata + Tunnel Snakes - The Outsiders AU

[(Anonymous)]

My mind can't stop comparing the Tunnel Snakes to the greasers and LW + Amata to the Socs, okay. I just really liked this book and think it could be an interesting AU?

Re: Gen, LW, Amata + Tunnel Snakes - The Outsiders AU

[(Anonymous)]

That sounds interesting. Seconded.

Pacer/The King, the courier finally gets them together

[(Anonymous)]

Everybody knows Pacer's got it bad for the King. "Everybody" also apparently includes that sissy courier that just came flouncing into Freeside, because when Pacer tries to confront them about who's really in charge around here, they somehow flip the whole conversation into deciding to solve a very personal problem for an almost total stranger (in true rpg PC fashion).

humor is nice, smut, srs!fic, anything authornon wants. I just really would like the courier (any courier) using their magic quest-solving abilities to hook these two up!

Re: Pacer/The King, the courier finally gets them together

[(Anonymous)]

omg i want this so hard

Courier/Benny/Yes Man

[(Anonymous)]

(is human/robot a kink? threesome definitely is, at least...)

before the courier is part of the picture, benny and yes man are kind of a thing, and it's kind of not what he usually does at all, and also kind of a big secret because wow how would any normal person react to seeing a relationship like that
after the courier comes rolling into town, benny runs for the hills and yes man's new boss finds that s/he also really... really... likes him... like that...
when benny comes back to vegas (to make amends after the battle for the dam, after the courier frees him from caesar, back to run the tops again, maybe he never actually left in the first place, whatever the story is), he and the courier end up together. it's only after they've been hooking up for a while that each finds out/tells the other about yes man, and wow, they feel really bad about leaving him out all this time. so they bring the robot into the relationship too. glittery happy endings for everybody. \o/

TL;DR benny/yes man is an established relationship, then courier/yes man, then benny/courier, and finally everybody realizes it ought to just be all three of them.

this req is kind of long, i'm really sorry! author anon can start at the end if they want, i bet the would be a lot easier and i wouldn't mind! i just want benny/courier/yes man with a little bit of acknowledged history between all of them. <3

Re: Courier/Benny/Yes Man

[(Anonymous)]

oh my god, i didn't even know i wanted this and now i need it.

Gen - Sherlock Holmes AU

[(Anonymous)]

Could be either Sherlock + John in post apocalyptia, or a couple of characters acting as detectives.

FLW/Billy Creel -- 50 First Dates AU

[(Anonymous)]

I don't even know why I want this, I really don't.
And the more I read that title, the more I just sit here and go "What the fuck, me?"

Re: FLW/Billy Creel -- 50 First Dates AU

[(Anonymous)]

This just sounds like it is a prompt made for Benny/Courier, to me.

Seconding, regardless.

FLW/Gob - Gob never left Underworld

[(Anonymous)]

I'm interested to see how their relationship would be (i.e. how Gob would be, how the LW may react to ghouls assuming her first interaction with a ghoul isn't with skittish, gentle Gob).

Impress Me (prt 1 / ?)

[(Anonymous)]

Is it okay if I post even though someone's already offered? I just typed up something really quick if anyone's interested. This is also my first promt fill in... Be nice? XD

She tied her hair tighter back into her trademark welder’s bun, skulking through the doors of the infamous Underworld. The smell and dim lights had no real effect on her, but the sight of a sea of ghouls was enough to shake anyone’s confidence. A rather tall ghoul stalked over to her with a smirk, Lone Wanderer determine to keep her composer.

“Well, well. A Smoothskin has come out to play?” He chuckled grimly, the girl smiled softly in retort. She pointed to her vault suit, bright yellow ‘101’ causing the ghoul to look twice.

“I’m the Last, best Hope for Humanity and I was wondering where I could get a stiff drink.” The ghoul, whose nametag read Winthrop, pointed up the staircase to his right while he faced her. She nodded in thanks, skipping up the steps in pairs while ghoul upon ghoul gave her looks.

“Don’t mind the smell, I know how sensitive you humans can be.”

“There are a lot more of us than there are of you, Smoothskin.”

Colin Moriarty’s cat calls suddenly sounded inviting. She cleared her throat, something like a smile cascading upon her features when looking upon the scrawled sign.

“The Ninth Circle. Quaint.” She took a deep breath, pushing open the double doors and strutting to the bar with a quickly dwindling confidence. The way the barkeep looked at the Lone Wander disgusted her beyond all measures, leaning onto the bar and licking his scabbed lips.

“Well hello, beautiful. I’m Ahzrukhal and I’m your server, what can I get you?”

“A nice cold whiskey would blow my mind right about now.” She smiled, trying to be normal in a place where she was the social outcast. The bartender smirked, leaning down behind him and handing her a bottle. The ice upon the bottle was melting already, her mouthwatering in anticipation. It was the best whiskey she had ever had in her life, slamming down double the caps and asking for another.

“Slow down, sweet cheeks. Hey, while I get you your whiskey, bring this over to my bodyguard, Charon… and don’t be afraid to start conversation!” He handed her a glass of water while yelling the last bit, gesturing over to the six foot something tree. She nodded graciously, willing to do anything to get on these ghoul’s good side. She walked slowly, careful not to spill a drop upon placing the water down.

“There, nice and cold.” She beamed, the tall ghoul merely grunted, taking a few sips of his water.

“So… Charon. That’s an interesting name, I’ve never seen Charon spelt with a C before!” She made friendly conversation, punching him in the arm lightly. He grimaced, grabbing her forearm and leaning down. His hot breath tickled her ear as he spoke.

“You smell of freedom… and that disgusts me.” He released her, but not before giving her a forceful shove towards the bar. She took her whiskey and downed half the bottle, rather shaky from that encounter.

“So where do I have to go to get a room in Underworld?” She asked, standing to stretch. The hem on her modified vault suit turned high cut dress rode up her thighs, an audible growl escaping Ahzrukhal with no regret.

“Well… there’s always my room,” Ahzrukhal winked while giving her body a good once over “, but there is always Carol’s Place. Fu-… she steals costumers. She isn’t my cup of tea. Remember, always my nice queen size bed.” Lone Wanderer smiled and waved, hightailing it around to the only over door on the top floor. Carol’s Place.

m/m, thumb sucking

[(Anonymous)]

ok. I'm doing it. I'm prompting my most embarrassing kink..... thumb-sucking.

would love to see some slash fic featuring a thumb sucking courier. any characters are basically perfect with me, though I do like m!courier, arcade, and boone- any sort of pairing between those three is just fantastic. But again, I don't really care what characters as long as they're male!

I'm actually so hard up to see this in fic that I don't even mind if it's not the focus of the story...maybe just something briefly mentioned (though if any a!a DOES make it the main focus I will probably just melt into a happy puddle of goo and sing your praises through the ages).

Re: m/m, thumb sucking

[(Anonymous)]

Anon is intrigued, but does not understand thumb sucking as a kink. Is it like an oral fixation? A comfort thing? The idea of putting something covered with dirt and germs and God knows what else in their mouth? Help this anon understand, and perhaps it will inspire her to write something.

Though it would have to be super short, as anon only has a smartphome to act as her computer...

New Vegas - 10 Things I Hate About You AU

[(Anonymous)]

Please, please, please, omg.
I don't care who you put in what roles, I just want this.

Re: New Vegas - 10 Things I Hate About You AU

[(Anonymous)]

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaant

[(Anonymous)]

I'm a trans person myself so I'd be interested in filling this! Give me a few days, I'll figure out how to do this.

New Vegas, Game of Thrones AU

[(Anonymous)]

Starring the Legion as the Lannisters, Courier and the gang as the Starks, and maybe the Followers as the Baratheons?
The first are really the only things cemented in my mind; anything else, you can change as you wish~

Re: New Vegas, Game of Thrones AU

[(Anonymous)]

Nuclear winter is coming.

Anyone/FISTO

[(Anonymous)]

Robots need love too. Any character is fine but I'm keen on Cass, Boone or Arcade.

Assume The Position (1/2)

[(Anonymous)]

ASSUME THE POSITION
Characters: Rose of Sharon Cassidy; Fisto
Kink: Robot sex
Brief summary: Cass has sex with Fisto.

* * * * *

What the fuck was she doing?

The question went through Cass' mind over and over again, even though she knew damn well what she was doing. She'd gone to the Atomic Wrangler, paid a not unreasonable amount of caps and was even now walking up a set of stairs to her private room so she could have sex with a robot.

The better question was probably why the fuck she was doing this.

Curiosity, mostly. She'd never been pounded by a machine before and she'd been just drunk enough yesterday to feel like maybe finding out what it was like, especially since the Courier sometimes talked fondly of her test drive of the thing. 'Course, she was sober today.

Cass reached her little rented room and quickly got inside, the heavy tread of Fisto the robot prostitute behind her.

"So, guess this is it," Cass said, trying and failing to keep her eyes from wandering towards the bed.

"Affirmative, INSERT CUSTOMER NAME," the tall, hard, black phallic robot replied. "How may I please?"

"The name's Cass," Cass said. "And I'm not rightly sure."

"ERROR: RELEVANT VOICE FILE NOT FOUND. I am sorry, INSERT CUSTOMER NAME. How may I please?"

Cass sighed. This was getting off to a great start. "Well, what can you do?"

Fisto held up its right claw. The claw retracted to be replaced by a large selection of black vibrators and dildos. Cass' eyes grew wide just trying to take them all in. Some looked regular enough, others were weirdly spiked or had rotating sections. Several of them were big enough to put Long Dick Johnson to shame.

"You're not gonna use all of those at once, are you?" Cass asked.

"You have not paid enough caps for the full service, INSERT CUSTOMER NAME. However, you may select any one."

"That one," said Cass, pointing at a jutting vibrator that was a tad on the large side (but not ludicrously so) and was just ribbed enough to look interesting.

"Certainly, INSERT CUSTOMER NAME," said Fisto, retracting all the toys Cass hadn't picked. "Please assume the position and we shall begin."

"Right," said Cass.

Still not quite believing she was actually going through with this, Cass stripped out of her clothes and took place on the bed. She went down on hands and knees, presenting her behind to the black fucking machine.

"Where would you like the insertion, INSERT CUSTOMER NAME?" Fisto asked, lowering his arm.

"The pussy," Cass said hurriedly. "Definitely just the pussy."

"As you wish, INSERT CUSTOMER NAME."

Arcade/Boone genderswap

[(Anonymous)]

The original pair is hot, but Ladycade is hotter.

yet-untitled genderswap Courier/Boone, Arcade/Boone 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

Her teenaged years were awkward enough as it was, but there she'd been, sixteen and six foot two, drowning her sorrows in pages from Sylvia Plath while Orion Moreno pounded on the door and told her to kit up for that night's excursion. She reflected-- as he taught her fifty ways to stab a man's vitals-- that she didn't want to grow up to be a paramilitary holdout killing machine, she didn't want to pop out pure American babies in this forsaken wasteland. No. She had this great idea, distant and moody, that somewhere in the future, some way, somehow, she would be living a life of science and intellectual study with likeminded ladies far from the reach of NCR forces.

Arcade sort of thought it would be like Sappho's island where booksmart lesbians fed each other grapes and discussed literary themes.

Instead she ended up on the ass end of nowhere, cutting up cactus bits and trying to spin pharmaceutical straw into pharmaceutical gold. Freeside was a dump-- probably always going to be a dump-- and maybe that was why she agreed to follow Davy Six Waters out into the desert.

That and also because she took one look at that fresh-faced goofball Mormon kid and knew-- just knew-- that he was going to need a lot of help, if that bandage across his head was anything to tell by.

Six was a nice young man, born of a Sorrows-tribe healer and a missionary, and he had his heart set on walking the earth and spreading the good news. Need someone to mediate an argument between two parties? Want someone to tell your troubles to? Need five gecko skins or whatever the hell fetch quest for some odd reason? Six would help you, common sense and self-preservation tossed to the wind.

They had been walking two hours out of the eastern crossroads that one fateful day and Arcade missed the initial set-up-- but all of a sudden she heard Six cry out happily, "Hey look, Arcade! It’s a baby!"

She'd been inspecting an interesting growth on mesquite bean pods and this cut into her reverie.

Yes-- there it was, a baby. A cute little boy of maybe two or three years, fuzzy and brown, clutching a toy rex by the tail. His cheeks were stained with tears and when Six went over to him for hugs, the boy squeezed onto him right away and babbled unintelligibly.

"Aw, hey, lil guy, where's your mommy and daddy?" Six cooed, giving him back pats. "What're you doin' out here by yourself?"

The baby blubbered and connected his nostrils to Six's cheek with a thick rope of snot.

Arcade sighed. Children were full of mucus. “He looks well-fed,” she remarked. “It’s likely that he’s just wandered off and got lost.. there’s a settlement up ahead.”

“Ha ha ha.. look, he’s snottin’ on me. Look at all this gooey!”

“Uh. Yes. You’ll want to keep that away from your wet membranes.”

“Hey, I bet you’re right. They said look for the dinosaur, right?” Six gave the kid a hug. “And whoooo’s got a toy dinosaur?"

This turned out badly.

James/anyone: voice kink

[(Anonymous)]

James is the sexiest daddy in the Capital Wasteland. Why? Dat voice! I'd like a fill where any Fallout character finds one of James' research holotapes and is instantly turned on by that manly rasp. Pretty please?

Courtesy of the Doctor; Micro-fill

[(Anonymous)]

Characters:Arcade Gannon, James, Julie Farkas
Pairing: Arcade/James

_____________________


"It's just one box." Forget the fact that it was probably well over seventy pounds and dressed to the nines in a thick suit of dust. Arcade heaved the thing forward, grumbling about the unwieldy box's construction. Just one box. Who cares if you break your spine? A little dirt and tar in your lungs won't hurt. Do you really need fingers anyway? The trek to the storage room seemed longer than a Mojave day. Arcade managed a meager means of entertainment in the cruel mental soliloquy outlining his death by way of box-carrying. Just one box. Write it on my tombstone.

The still stagnant, yet fan cooled air inside was like a prize for the effort. "A+, Arcade, pat yourself on the - dammit." The box clattered out of sweat slickened palms only three feet from it's destination. Appreciate that one, karma. Arcade sat on the creaking wooden floor, the protest of his joints presenting itself in various cracks and pops. Yes, sitting, it's something we do sometimes. He reminded his body, which had seemingly forgotten. Looking back to the box with a sigh, he set it upright, dust clouding as he did so. Inhaling was cut short by a cough, a cough embellished to be ridiculously loud in the hope that Julie would hear. Mid-attention getting, his eyes fluttered to the box's contents. A number of holotapes were scattered across the floor surrounding the presumed damnably heavy holotape player. What did the Followers need with a bunch of (what appeared to be ridiculously old) holotapes? Curiosity killed the cat, but provided scientific discovery by means of its remains. That's how the saying goes, right? He popped a holotape into the machine and resumed fantasizing his own box induced mortality while it started up.

'Julie, Julie! Something's wrong with Arcade!' He imagined their panic at finding him unconscious, having inhaled too much dust. 'He's broken six of his fingers!' 'I shouldn't have made him do it!' Julie would be wracked with grief, 'It was just one-'

The fantasy was cut short by the sound churning out of the holotape player. Sex. Pure, hot sex was flowing from the speaker. Arcade sat up straighter before leaning in close, inches away from the machine as if to get even nearer to the man;s voice within. He spoke of research, research that made little sense to Arcade. But it wasn't the words, it was the tone. Deep, lingering. Shifting closer, Arcade noticed the nearly uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Smooth. Never be a courier, he chided himself internally, you can't even make a simple delivery without popping a boner. But the voice continued, and Arcade began to feel less ashamed every second, hands lingering on the button of his pants. Just have to be quick...

The door slammed open, bright Mojave sun near blinding Arcade as he scrambled to his feet, fists locked nonchalantly over his privates, foot giving a sharp kick to the machine to procure silence.

"Arcade?" Julie squinted in the doorway, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit room. "Someone walking by said they heard a noise like a dying radscorpion in here, everything alright?" She looked from the mess on the floor to the man in the corner haphazardly shifting from one foot to the other.

"I..ah..dropped the box..on my foot." Arcade struggled through a response. Believable enough.

"Okay..." She cocked an eyebrow. "Well, hurry up. I mean, it's..."

"Just one box, yes. Thank you, Julie." She smiled her warm, eerily unreadable smile and shut the door. Stuffing the contents of the box hastily back, slipping a holotape in the pocket of his labcoat, Arcade sauntered back to his tent. Definitely sauntered. Didn't at all stagger along with a painfully obvious erection settled between his legs. No, Arcade Gannon is a man of class.

James: fighting stray dogs

[(Anonymous)]

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?

Re: James: fighting stray dogs

[(Anonymous)]

Ha, I can see it. :) Seconded.

Gen - The 10th Kingdom AU

[(Anonymous)]

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.

Re: Gen - The 10th Kingdom AU

[(Anonymous)]

Oh SNAPS I loved that show, and this is both cracky and delightful.

red lucy/ vulpes inculta

[(Anonymous)]

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

Re: red lucy/ vulpes inculta

[(Anonymous)]

This is so HOT. Seconded.

Fallout 3: F!LW/Brock

[(Anonymous)]

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?

Re: Fallout 3: F!LW/Brock

[(Anonymous)]

Hell yes! I shall attempt this one for you. Give me a couple of days :D

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

[(Anonymous)]

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?

Shit Outta Luck: F!Courier+Arcade (crack, gen) 1a/?

[(Anonymous)]

Characters: F!Courier, Arcade, Rex
Pairings: None
Relationship: Gen
Tags: F!Courier, Arcade, Rex, genfic, crack
Summary: Authoranon takes no responsibility for this one! You have been WARNED. F!Courier introduces us to the horrors of Wasteland hygiene. Just don’t get squeamish, or turn away because the Fiends might wipe some snot on you.


She was a hundred miles from nowhere and she really needed to take a number one trip to find a suitable spot for a number two. Only…there was one small problem.

“ARCADE!”

“What?” The doctor turned around from pushing another dead lizard onto a stick. Wasteland cuisine at its finest.

“I can’t find any more toilet paper magazines in my bag, you got some?”

Gannon remembered the last time they had had this discussion, and it had involved her swiping the first few pages of his only copy of War and Peace. She told him there had been so many he wasn’t going to miss the blank ones, but that wasn’t the point.

“Nope.”

“If you stuck more snack cakes in your bag at our last stop instead of toilet paper, I’m going to kill you.”

“Kill away, just do not touch my books.”

“I NEED TOILET PAPER!”

“Well,” Arcade set the iguana-on-a-stick down and looked over at Rex, wondering if he could gather enough loose hair off of the panting dog to throw at her. “How about you use a rock, or something?”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, you know, apparently Caesar’s men use these odd sponges on sticks that they keep in communal buckets and -“

“Jeeze, STOP THAT! I’m gonna hurl before I even find a suitable place to dig a hole!”

The Courier was somewhere off to his right now, hiding behind a group of sagebrush, but he wasn’t sure and didn’t really care at the moment if she was on the moon.

“Or…there’s the Fiends. Ever notice how many dirty dictionary pages were scattered all over Vault 3? Ever really wonder about that?”

“Arcade I. Gannon, I am going to come over there and personally technicolor yawn all over that snarky face of yours.”

“And then there was that department store we visited once…in Freeside, behind the Silver Rush. Remember how that smelled? And the amount of Sears and Roebuck catalogues that were scattered all over with torn-off pages and-”

“ENOUGH!”

“Maize cobs were once utilized.”

The Courier marched in front of Arcade, her hands clenched into small, but determined fists. She was short, but from where he sat, slumped against a rock, she was looking down at him with fire in her eyes.

“So, mister-king-of-the-BATHROOM-HABITS-of-the-ancient-world, answer me THIS!”

“I’m waiting,” Arcade added when she paused.

She stood there for a moment, face screwing into something resembling a cross between a sneer and a scowl, but never quite making it either way because she truly wasn’t very good at looking angry. At least it didn’t appear, from where he sat, to be a thing she did well.

“The Followers go on long pilgrimages out in to the middle of God-forsaken hellholes all the time, and I’m sure they pack light. No Fancy Lad snack cakes and no room for much toilet paper. Now they certainly don’t use up their ‘precious books’ for toiletries…so how exactly do they get along, huh? HUH!”

“Oh simple,” Arcade yawned, “we tear up old shirts and things and use the linen strips. They’re not as bio-degradable, but one and you’re done…well, and they are more common.”

“Hmm,” the Courier stood there a moment, the little mole rat behind her eyes running frantically on its ephemeral wheel into the pit of darkness that was her mind.

“Umhmm,” Arcade leaned back against the rock, eyes closing, wondering if he had enough energy to get up and start a fire. “It’s not so difficult to find old linen as it is to find magazines and newspapers…and there are always leaves, I suppose, in some places.”

The Courier stared at the spiky Joshua trees clustered around them, then down at the spear-edged banana yucca at her feet and shrugged.

“Whatever you say,” she said.

But Arcade didn’t hear her, because he was miles away inside his head and snoring.

***

Legion objectifies everyone

[(Anonymous)]

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.

Girl from Ipanema 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

Long minutes in the blindfold sharpened his sense of hearing. He focused in on the rustling and the whisper of fabric. Years ago when he emerged the sole survivor of the Ritual, he could have never envisioned this, that he would be here like this, that this was his mission. Perhaps if the other candidates knew what awaited them, they would have fought harder to survive.

He was sitting handcuffed to a chair in a corner suite in the Tops casino. Muted jazzy music filtered up from below. His bare feet rubbed into the carpet. He had dressed in civilian clothes to come here, suspenders over a clean shirt, and trousers too tight in the crotch.

"Have you been a good boy, Ron?" Martina asked him from somewhere across the room.

Picus licked his lip and smiled. “No,” he said.

He wasn't used to waiting. And he'd been waiting. What was she doing? Was she changing her clothes? Women took forever to change their clothing… only to take the clothing off again. He would never understand.

He sensed movement, heard a susurrus of soft material. He felt stockinged toes touch his knee. Sensed a change in pressure and movement, her standing closer to him. He could smell the perfume warmed by her body.

Now her foot rubbed along the inside of his thigh. He couldn't hold back a groan. He'd suffered half an erection since the rumbling of the monorail, worsened by anticipation when he checked into the casino. He'd had to stand there smirking as the Chairman goon patted him down for weaponry. Whoa there pally, looks like you’re packin’, but I’m just gonna take your word for it.

"Have you right where I want you," Martina purred. She loved to play little games like these. Her strange little games. Mercifully she sidled into his lap, her arms slithering over his shoulders.

He was too tense for games tonight and before she realized it, he had handcuffed her to the chair. He felt her jolt and start to clink the cuff once she figured it out.

"Oh Ron. How'd you learn to do that? Blindfolded?"

In the darkness of the blindfold it was easy to recollect the terrifying moments before the plunge into the waters of the Colorado, the smooth voice in his ear saying, Now, brother, the key is not to panic.
"Magic," he said.

Frederick Sinclair/F!Courier: het, time travel or dream, better ending

[(Anonymous)]

So, I'm replaying Old World Blues and in it you learn about all those mysterious/horrible things that happened to the Sierra Madrid. The poison cloud, the ghost people, etc. Even though we never really get to know much about Sinclair, I got to like him through the various second hand sources you find through out the game, and while I like Dean's character, it was an asshole thing that he did to Sinclair and Vera.

So here's the request: F!Courier gets into the casino and is subsequently knocked unconscious, however instead of waking up in the darkened foyer she wakes up in the prewar casino, exactly where she would have been in her time, as Vera Keyes. 

How this happens is up to you. Could be the poisonous cloud and weird timing on the Couriers part makes the jump possible. Maybe the Auto-Docs have something to do with it, Vera's DNA is all over those things. Or maybe its just one fucked up halucination brought on by prolonged exposure to the cloud. 

Whatever the reason I want the Courier to be stuck bouncing back and forth in time learning about Dean's plan along the way and trying to convince past!Dean to not go through with it. Or trying to convince Sinclair to not entrap Dean in the basement by somehow convincing him that in the future Dean gets his. Main point, I want a better ending for these people. I don't want Dean to turn in to a obsessed shell of a man, I don't want Sinclair and Vera to die alone. And if all possible I'd like Sinclair and the Courier to have a relationship, even if it is a short lived/ultimately made up one.

tl;dr F!Courier wakes up as Vera Keyes and tries for a better ending for all involved.

Re: Frederick Sinclair/F!Courier: het, time travel or dream, better ending

[(Anonymous)]

I looooove this idea, anon.

FLW/Scribe Bigsley -- "Let me make it up to you."

[(Anonymous)]

FLW feels guilty for all the stress put on Scribe Bigsley thanks to his position at the purifier.
Cue a smutty way to make it up to him.

Re: FLW/Scribe Bigsley -- "Let me make it up to you."

[(Anonymous)]

Yeeeeees. YES. I approve of this x1000000.

Any character, books

[(Anonymous)]

Someone finds a mostly intact, pre-war library, and freaks the fuck out. Tell me about their colossal nerdgasm.

Happiness is a book. 1/2

[(Anonymous)]

Tags: Arcade, f!courier
Summary: Arcade nerdgasms over the discovery of a library full of books.


Glorious. Arcade stared at the spectacle before him and for the first time in his life he knew what it meant to be truly dazzled. Every where he looked, every corner, every shelf, every flat surface was occupied by a beautiful, pristine, perfectly perfect work of art. The room started to go dark before he remembered he had to breathe now and then.

Books. Everywhere he looked, a new tome he hadn't read yet. Leather bound, gold embossed, every color, every size, billions upon billions of ideas and words and stories and knowledge---it was like something out of a fairytale or a dream or a drugged out hallucination brought on by one of Cass' inconvenient attempts to get him laid.

He pinched himself. Was this just a dream? Was it a cruel cruel joke played by his own mind? Fuck it, Arcade told himself. It didn't matter if it was a dream. It was glorious.

“Um. Are you ok?”

Fingers snapped in front of his face, but Arcade did his best to ignore them. So many books. So little time. And where to begin?

The burning in his chest signaled he'd forgotten to breathe again. Not only were the books in perfect shape, but did his eyes deceive him? No! Alphabetical order and by author's last name!

“I'm never leaving this place,” he said.

The courier tugged at his sleeve, and Cass---fuck it. He didn't care what she or anyone else was doing as long as they weren't going to ruin any of this for him. He ran his fingers along the spine of the nearest book. Edgar Allen Poe. Short stories.

“Arcade? Arcade?”

The tugging intensified until he firmly extracted his sleeve from the courier's grip. Her dirty fingers left greasy prints. No, it didn't matter. Clothes could be cleaned, but books? Books were delicate wonders. They needed to be kept from the rough care of these barbarians, they needed to be sheltered, loved...

“I'm fine now,” he said as he slid the book off the shelf.

“Are you?” the courier asked.

Her heard her voice as though through a tunnel. So distant. So unimportant. He flipped a few pages in, savoring the smell of old ink and ancient paper. The Pit and the Pendulum was printed at the top of the page.

'I was sick---sick unto death with that long agony; and when they at length unbound me---'

Gen -- Boondock Saints AU

[(Anonymous)]

Any game, any characters (hell, make it a bunch of unknowns or OCs for all I care).

Re: Gen -- Boondock Saints AU

[(Anonymous)]

OH MY. I need this like fucking--you just don't even know. I have an urge to fill this. IDK how good it would be but... But just imagining the family prayer coming falling from the lips of the Mojave's finest just makes me all tingly. Or maybe it's a story for 3, what with all the "truth, justice, and the American way" coming from the corrupt Enclave.

Thanks for ruining my next 12 days while I plott this head cannon out, lol.

F!LW/Butch - Extreme Jealousy

[(Anonymous)]

I want a possessive and protective Butch, who can't stand it when the FLW is around/talking to other males. Not just a little irritated at her multiple relationships and friendships across the wasteland, but him becoming downright bitter about it. His pride is too much for him to tell her what's really bothering him when she shows concern for his attitude.

I'd prefer a good!karma LW but if the A!A wants to make it so that he's following her, neutral-bordering-on-good would be fine too.

Bonus points if the LW isn't girly at all and kind of rough around the edges.

Re: F!LW/Butch - Bitter 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

He wasn't even sure why he traipsed across the Wasteland with her and the good-for-nothing mutt. Rivet City had been a blast, if not a little dull. Out in the Wastes you actually had to look for booze, as if scavenging wasn't enough of a chore.

Butch berates himself every time Blair drags him across the Wastes, which is pretty goddamn often. It fuckin' sucks, being with D.C.'s hero. She's got friends everywhere - and most of them need her help. She'll get letters and radio broadcasts dedicated to her, asking for assistance in the little settlement of just-kidding-we-deserted-this-shithole or the small cave community of we're-fucking-brats-here-enjoy-some-shitastic-cave-fungus.

This week, Blair's dragged him out to the middle of goddamn nowhere, underneath the city in some dank, musty metro settlement. Butch isn't a pussy or anything; fuck no, so he's not scared of the dark underground. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't scared shitless of the metro's freaky residents.

Sure, the doctor's brat has tons of friends across the Wastes, and that's all fine and dandy, but this time they're hanging with cannibals. Fuckin' cannibals!

As if that wasn't bad enough, the leader of the scary fucks is a guy. A guy Blair's particularly friendly with (maybe even fond of) and that doesn't sit well with the Butch-man. Not at fuckin' all. It's even worse that Vance, some handsome-ass bloodsucker, is showing interest in her. There's that sting of raging anger he's felt a million times before, always with the bastards that Blair gives her attention to.

"Blood-drinkin'cocksucker," Butch mutters into his glass of whiskey, sitting at the huge table in the center of their small community. Two pretty birds are eying him from across the room, ain't like he's stupid and can't tell, but he doesn't want shit to do with them. Butch is too busy watching Blair talk with their leader, laughing and acting girly and shit.

Hell if she actually is. Blair's the hottest, smartest, toughest, and roughest goddamn woman Butch has ever met. She's a great shot, has a sailor's mouth to rival his own, and dammit - he finds it all fucking sexy as hell.

No, she can't fool him, only because he knows her well, and that bothers him further. They've been through so much bullshit together, and she still doesn't flirt and tease with him the way she would with fuckin' Harkness, or goddamn Brock. He hates how she flirts with Billy Creel, that asshole, whenever they're in Megaton, or like now when she just brushes her palm against the cannibal bastard's elbow, leaning forward and laughing.

He goddamn hates it.

Courier + Companions, Weird Music

[(Anonymous)]

So in my mind, at least one of the Mojave Scooby Gang has really… eccentric taste in music. Something that isn’t normal to the rest of the wasteland, which is used to Radio New Vegas 24/7. Maybe Boone really was Born This Way, or Lily could be Sexy and She Knows It, maybe Arcade is fond of little kids nursery rhyme songs (“Mary Had A Little Lamb is a MASTERPIECE!”) or who knows, maybe the Courier really likes old Russian folk songs. I know I do!

They type of music doesn’t matter at all, and neither does the team Six member who listens to it, but all of their companions should be very confused by the song(s) that they listen to, and it should be music that's not at all common in New Vegas.

Re: Courier + Companions, Weird Music

[(Anonymous)]

Oh my god. If I wasn't an awful writer, I'd take this on (and I swear by the hammer of Thor that 'awful' is not an exaggeration in the slightest).