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!
The Mighty Become Slaves 2/?
(Anonymous) 2012-02-07 05:06 am (UTC)(link)“Ah, I don’t think poor Lucius will be alive for much longer.”
Vulpes strained to get a look at Lucius. Indeed she was right. Lucius was too pale, too still, too quiet; his uniform torn, showing raw bullet wounds and quivering flesh. He was struggling to stay awake. Vulpes gritted his teeth.
“So, Vulpes, will you surrender quickly and quietly? I promise to let all of you live,” she cooed.
The commotion started up again. They would never surrender. Caesar and Lanius might be dead, but the ideals of the Legion were still very much alive, would continue to be alive until the last man fell.
She sneered. Her knuckles turned white as their shouts escalated, reedy from bruised throats and open wounds, but strong nevertheless. Vulpes felt lightheaded, but he continued to hurl insults at her. Her sneer turned into a slimy smile. Her fingers drummed against the worn-out armrests.
“All right, have it your way,” she said wryly. She snapped her fingers.
Her hired thugs dragged Vulpes to his feet. He didn’t struggle; he only stared at the Courier with cold, cold eyes. The eyes of the Legion were on him. Lucius’ head was turned towards him, a meaning look in his eyes that Vulpes couldn’t quite understand. His legs trembled as they started to move, but he managed to stay upright, wounded but dignified. Their fingers cruelly dug into his skin. She lingered on the chair, arrogantly leaning back; legs spread wide apart confidently, a petty smile playing on her dark lips.
“He’ll have fun.”
The Legion’s shouts subsided.
----
Vulpes bit his tongue. The burning prongs pressed against his chest, searing wounds and peeling skin. They pressed in harder. He hissed. The chains rattled.
“You’re being difficult,” she complained.
A burly thug turned towards her. “What do we do, Benni?”
“Benni…?” Vulpes murmured, fascinated by the woman’s name, having never heard it.
She looked at him, grey eyes dark with telltale fury. “It’s Bernice,” she spat.
He smiled a bit. “The same name as your almost-killer. How does it feel, Benni? Having something in common with that filth?”
“Not all that bad. Before his death, he gave me the idea of destroying the NCR and the Legion, freeing everybody from you bastards.”
Vulpes looked at her. He never really knew her. Nobody ever knew her. They all underestimated her. That was how she managed to do all this. He wondered how many NCR throats she slit.
“How many?” he rasped. “How many NCR dogs did you put down?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He coughed, pressure building in his chest. “Hsu and Kimball are definitely among them.”
“It was all for the best. The Mojave deserves to be independent.”
“Does it?” he whispered.
The butcher knife cut a line from his navel to his hip, twisting a little deeper at the Courier’s request. They kept at it, prongs and knives and fists used, but no traitorous words spilled from Vulpes’ throat. He only hissed and struggled, staring at the Courier all the while with half-closed eyes, her rust-red hair being the only thing he could focus on.
“Silus would have been a better opinion.”
Her scowl was only getting bigger. She spun on her heel, barking out orders for two brutes to follow her and for the biggest brute to continue his torture. Vulpes’ muffled scream followed her out.
----
All of the prisoners were dragged out. Lucius grunted, head lolling as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. All of them were.
It was mid-morning. They were all sprawled in front of hastily-made stand, cobbled together with leftover wood and rusty nails. Apprehension made their heads spin. Guns were trained on their heads. The mercenaries jeered at them, heckling them to make a move because they wanted to “shoot some shithead”.
They will. They’re not afraid of these dogs. But it would be best to lay low for now, to gather their strength.
Vulpes was dragged out, blinking and frowning at the sunlight. His eyes were bruised from the sleepless night, blood crusted below his nostrils, wrists swollen and lips cracked. He looked terrible, but his bloody grin was triumphant.
Re: The Mighty Become Slaves 2/?
(Anonymous) 2012-02-07 06:02 am (UTC)(link)