falloutkinkmeme_backup (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
Entry tags:
Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
Welcome to the Fallout Kink Meme, Part IV! Please assume the position.
- 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!
Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (33a/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-04-01 01:25 pm (UTC)(link)“I thought the boss was supposed to be here today?” Photo whispers.
“She will be,” Dredge agrees, pats Photo’s back. Their guard watches them, shotgun slung across her lap, eyelids heavy, fingers tapping along to whatever song is playing on the radio now--something about a man and a guitar.
“If you can give us anymore information, we can let you go,” the guard offers again, as Dredge hikes her shirt up and off one arm, holds her baby in place so she can nurse. Dredge leans back against the shack wall, crosses her legs up on the grimy mattress. Photo huddles against her.
“Think I’ll pass, ma’am, if you don't mind.”
“Fine,” the guard agrees. Slightly less droop-eyed than she was, watches Dredge’s hands as she starts tapping to the radio too, studies Photo as Photo fidgets with the hem of her dress. “What time is your boss showing up here?”
“Dunno, wouldn’t share even if I did,” Dredge replies. “Don’t like bein’ locked up in a room and bein’ told my freedom’s dependent on how well I fall into line.”
“You know I can’t let you go,” the guard responds.
“Course not.” Dredge snorts. “But don’t go expectin’ me to tell you jack shit. Boss may be Legion, but at least she lets me out of a goddamn room.”
“Dredge, you’re gonna make it worse,” Photo whispers, casts a nervous glance at the guard, who is now watching them with open eyes and renewed interest.
“Ain’t no such thing as worse, kiddo,” Dredge drawls in response. “If it ain’t scraping for food, it’s Legion, and if it ain’t Legion, it’s shitty people being in charge, and if it ain’t shitty people in charge it’s bein’ locked in a fuckin’ room. It’s all fuckin’ the same, when you get down to it.”
There’s a crunch of footsteps outside, and the guard is out of her chair in a moment, throws the door open, levels her shotgun--
Boom and there’s the sound of a lever-action being cycled, and the guard goes toppling back, her face mangled and the back of her head pulped.
Photo stares in horror at the guard's corpse, makes a soft, high pitched noise as she scoots further away, presses her hands over her mouth. Can’t bring herself to blink as the guard’s blood begins to pool on the ground.
Lucinda steps around the corner.
“Got your shotgun,” Lucinda says, holds Dredge’s shotgun up by the action. “If you’re up for it.”
“Gimme ten minutes, boss, so El here can finish up with breakfast.”
“Right, Lucinda agrees, takes three steps into the shed--steps in the pool of blood with the first, tracks it inside. She holds out Dredge’s shotgun, and Dredge takes it without a word.
Lucinda looks to Photo.
Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (33b/?)
(Anonymous) 2016-04-01 01:29 pm (UTC)(link)“You can stay here, or you can go hide somewhere else, but if this is your reaction to that,” she points to the guard with the barrel of her gun, then swings it back around so it's almost in position to fire, “then this whole town is going to be a nightmare for you, Photo.”
Photo just stares with wide eyes.
“I brought your camera, if you want it,” Lucinda offers, swings the camera bag Birdy made for Photo off her shoulder.
Photo still stares, hands trembling. Lucinda blinks at her, then sets the camera bag on the edge of the bed, between Dredge’s thigh and Photo’s foot.
“Both of you, try not to get shot. I have questions, later.” She looks between them, expression unchanging, waits for acknowledgement.
“It was me, Boss,” Dredge says by way of acknowledgement. “Mouth got away from me, and they added shit up. My fault.”
“I have questions, later,” Lucinda repeats. “Now you feed El and then meet in the square. Catch up with Twist and Drummer if you can, if not, meet on the main street. Anyone tries to shoot you, shoot them first. Are we clear?”
“Yes ma’am,” Dredge agrees, nods.
Lucinda nods.
“Good.”
She turns and leave the shack, doesn’t look back, just raises her gun again. She’s out of their view in a moment, footsteps soft on the hard dirt, even in heavy boots.
Photo fumbles for her camera after a moment, still unblinking, and points it at the guard's corpse.
There’s a click and a whirr, and she puts the camera away.
“You gonna look at that some day any different than you’re lookin’ at it now?” Dredge asks, eyes focused on the back of the house in front of them, where the whitewash is peeling off under the eaves. Determinedly not looking at the pool of blood, the corpse, the footprints in the dirt.
“Maybe,” Photo replies, turns so she faces the wall easier, puts her hand up to block her own vision.
“Shit, kid, good luck,” Dredge murmurs, reloads her shotgun one-handed, watches the doorway for anyone’s return or appearance.