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falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
falloutkinkmeme_backup) wrote2018-10-20 09:59 pm
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Fallout Kink Meme Part IV: Closed to prompts, open for fills.
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Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (95b/109b)
(Anonymous) 2016-09-01 12:06 am (UTC)(link)“Drag your own name through the mud?” Lucinda replies, voice quiet. Is that a threat to him? It would be a threat to anyone else, but he’s already leveraged it as a threat against her. “Cloelius, who decided to use another man’s property without permission.”
“Oh, no.” he leans in. “I know you fucked others. Holy shit, with a little work I could probably dig up a whole list.” He steps back, then, half-sits on the table and crosses his arms over his chest. “I bet everyone would believe me, too.”
“They probably would,” Lucinda agrees. What does she lose, if he drags her name through the mud? The Legion already wants her on a cross, wants her team dead, wants everyone to see what happens when a woman steps out of line. Called her Minerva on the coin, drag who she really is through the muck, crucify her, destroy the coins and--print someone else on them. Strix, probably, since he was there too, the pure and incorruptible man to her eminently corruptible woman.
“I can pull some strings,” he says. His shoulders loosen up, and she can see the play for what it is. How he looks is all relative to how he did look. “I can keep you out of prison and off a cross.”
“I don’t owe you anything and I don't want to owe you anything.” She knows herself, though, is already planning what she would do, what she could do with further freedom, knows that she could get--
No.
She needs to leave here, needs to get back to the rest of the team, get them on their way so they can get as far as they can before this comes back around to them too.
“You're an ungrateful little--”
“Don’t insult me,” she snaps, considers for half a moment before she steps into his space, instead of shrinking--curls her hands into fists at her aides, squares her shoulders, tilted her chin up. Makes herself bigger, more, the way Old Vulture taught her after teaching her to shrink. “I’m not the one who’s stuck in this dog-shit town even with connections high up in the chain of command, am I?”
“Well you are now,” he snaps, mirrors her own posture back--fists curled, shoulders square, but his bottom lip stuck out in that almost-pout, face crumpled like a child who just had their favorite toy taken away. Can she keep him on the defensive? Even if she can, she's going to be late for work. Anatolia will understand, though.
“How long do you think they can hold me?” she asks, lowers her voice. He’s never seen her do this, never seen her get mean. He still thinks she's going to roll over and beg for him. “If the NCR rangers can't hold me, what makes you think this dog-shit town can?”
“We want you deader than the NCR does,” he snorts. “And were better at killing.”
They do, and they are, and she knows both as facts.
“And you think that will keep me here?” she asks. She leaves it at that, steps around him, and the table, and walks towards the door.
He watches her go.
She's one turn from the slaughterhouse, smell of meat and blood in the air, when she recognizes Strix.
He still has the dog, lying obediently at his feet, watching the street. She doesn't even react when Lucinda turns around the corner. Lucinda gives no indication of recognition either, doesn't want to disturb dog or handler and have to wriggle her way out of this conversation too.
She ducks into a back alley, decides to take the long way around.