#me: going for the gentle unarmed attack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grailfinders · 2 years

Text

Fate & Phantasms Viewers' Choice #13: Nero (DMC V)

today on Fate and Phantasms we’re going for some Smokin’ Sexy Style by playing D&D as Nero Nolastname, that guy with the really cool theme music. Now if you’ll give me a sec, I have to smack my head against a wall a couple times to make sure I’ve completely forgotten anything about the Tulok video so this build can be original. as original as building an existing character can be, anyway.

okay, we’re back. that’s the magic of text-based fiction! so, Nero’s mostly an Ascendant Dragon Monk to get a collection of cool arms that also let him set up some ridiculous combos going, as well as a Samurai Fighter to improve his healing factor and take those combos to even sillier levels. finally, he’s a Fiend Warlock, because… that’s literally how his bloodline works. bang bang bang, pull his devil trigger, and so on.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Race and Background

I know Aasimar are traditionally ½ celestial and you’re only ¼ demon, but screw it, Fallen Aasimar. that gives you +2 Wisdom and +1 Dexterity, as well as Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, Darkvision up to 60’, and Healing Hands so you can touch yourself for a little boost. seriously, he has a hand that does that. arguably he has a lot of hands that do that, but he has one hand made for it, is the point I’m tryna make. he’s also a Light Bearer for the light cantrip, and at level three his Celestial Revelation will teach him how to make a Necrotic Shroud. that makes him look all creepy, forcing a charisma save on nearby enemies or they get frightened. also, once per turn you can add your proficiency bonus in Necrotic Damage to an attack or spell. it’s not quite what it used to be, but turning into a pseudo-demon is still plenty fun.

finally, Nero was a member of a holy order of knights, but I’m also in the middle of making the faerie knights while writing this and so I’m sick to death of giving builds the knight of the order background, so Nero will have to make due with the Soldier background instead for proficiency in Athletics and Intimidation. video games are like 90% fighting anyway, right?

Ability Scores

first up is Dexterity- move fast baby, don’t be slow. after that is Constitution- devils are unsurprisingly not gentle- that’s why they cry. third up is Charisma, because that’s how you get magic from demons. (You also end a five-game-long blood feud in a single fight, which must be a high roll.) your Wisdom isn’t that great- I’m not knocking Nero’s vision, but when your theme music is constantly blaring everywhere you go it’s going to drown out a lot of noise. your Strength also isn’t anything to write home about- I know Nero can fling cars around, but we only have so many points and it’s not necessary for the build. speaking of things that aren’t needed for the build, Intelligence. you have a lot of robot hands, but you didn’t make ‘em.

Class Levels

1. Monk 1: if you want to run around in just a coat and not die, monk’s a pretty good choice. starting off, your Unarmored Defense adds your wisdom to your AC as long as you’re not wearing armor, hence the name.

you also learn some Martial Arts, letting you attack using your fists or monk weapons using dexterity instead of strength, and also dealing at least 1d4 of damage, which grows as you level up. no, you don’t start with end game equipment. finally, you can make an unarmed attack as a bonus action.

one last thing- you’re proficient in Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as Acrobatics to ride on your own hand easier and Religion because you’re the grandson of the guy people made a religion about.

2. Monk 2: second level monks get Ki points equal to their monk level per short rest, which you can spend to do cool demon stuff like dashing, disengaging, dodging, or attacking twice as a bonus action. you’ll also get more uses for it later as your devil breaker collection grows.

you also get some extra slick reaction times thanks to your Unarmored Movement. As long as you’re not wearing armor, you gain an extra 10 feet of movement speed, which also grows as you level up.

Finally, you can gain access to your longsword (once you have proficiency in it) using your Dedicated Weapon. If you spend a rest with a weapon that isn’t two-handed or heavy, you can turn it into a monk weapon.

3. Monk 3: At level three, your devil breaker arsenal explodes after you learn some new tricks from an Ascendant Dragon. Or demon, either or. Like any monk you can Deflect Missiles, blocking ranged attacks and possibly counterattacking if you reduce the incoming damage to 0.

More importantly you become a Draconic Disciple, giving you three bonuses. You can make your Draconic Presence known when you fail an Intimidation or Persuasion check, using your reaction to re-roll the check. Once you succeed this way, you can’t use it again for a day.

You can also make a Draconic Strike, changing the damage type of your unarmed strikes to acid, cold, fire, lightning, or poison. As far as I’m aware devil triggers usually only come in fire and lightning as far as we are aware, but there’s nothing wrong with staying flexible. you also get the Tongue of Dragons, letting you learn Abyssal for free.

Finally, you can use the Breath of the Dragon as part of your attack action, replacing one attack with a cone or line of energy of one of the types listed above, dealing two martial arts dice in damage to everything that fails their Dexterity save in the area. You can use this proficiency times per day for free, or by spending two ki points. Having to break your arm to use your most powerful attacks may be annoying, but you always have a spare.

so: lightning spread for Overture, fire line for Gerbera, fire spread for the Mega Buster, and probably poison spread for the Monkey Business. you have no idea how long those bananas have been sitting there.

4. Monk 4: fourth level monks get their first Ability Score Improvement, so bump up that Dexterity for better dodging and faster sword-swinging. you can also Slow Fall now, making it less risky to pull off those mid-air combos. you also get Quickened Healing, letting you patch yourself up as an action by spending ki points.

5. Monk 5: fifth level monks get an Extra Attack, making your combo game even better, as well as letting you turn those attacks into Stunning Strikes. now you can add a stun to your lightning punches to really start a symphony of pain. plus, if you juust miss an attack you can use some ki points to get Focused Aim, helping you bring up your attack roll by spending more ki points. dropping combos suck, don’t do it.

6. Fighter 1 your combo game is almost legendary enough, but it needs something… more. bouncing over to fighter will help. first, you get a Dueling fighting style, as well as proficiency with a longsword, to really crank up your damage. you could wield a longsword with two hands, but since ol’ righty’s busy not existing I’ll just assume you’re doing it with one.

you also get a Second Wind so you can heal up once per short rest as a bonus action. healing is good, especially when the alternative is death.

7. Fighter 2: second level fighters can make an Action Surge once per short rest, really giving you that smokin’ sexy style you’re known for. with this, your extra attack, and your bonus action, you can pile on up to six hits in a single turn, mixing between your sword, unarmed attacks, and maybe even some dragon breath if you want to mix things up.

8. Fighter 3: at level three you become a Samurai, kind of, giving you proficiency in Persuasion. that war in your family is going to take a pretty high DC check to stop, better start training now.

you can also use your Fighting Spirit as a bonus action for five temporary HP and advantage on all weapon attacks this round. so when you want to go all out, you can either go for flurries of robo-punches, or a revved up sword blender- as the situation warrants.

9. Monk 6: now that we’ve got your combos down, let’s get a lot cooler. your Ki-Powered Strikes make your unarmed attacks magical, because… yeah, of course they are, they’re magical robot arms.

also we finally get to the punchline with Wings Unfurled letting you hop on your robot arm and get a flying speed equal to your walking speed proficiency times per day when you use your step of the wind. I’d definitely say flying 90’ in a round was worth the wait.

10. Warlock 1: I’m sure a couple of you have noticed by now- we don’t have a gun! I mean we technically do if you want a hand crossbow from fighter, but that doesn’t really work with our monk stuff, so… let’s get one that leaves our hands free for fighting anyway.

as a Fiend warlock, you have the Dark One’s Blessing, giving you a more long-term healing factor. every time you take a creature to 0 HP, you get temporary HP equal to your Charisma modifier plus your warlock level. right now that’s only 2 every kill, but it’ll get better as we go, don’t worry.

you also gain Pact Magic, letting you cast a few spells every short rest using your Charisma. grab Lightning Lure for your first grapply hand, Hellish Rebuke to keep the pressure up even when its not your turn, Hex to really pile on the style, and of course, Eldritch Blast for your hand cannon. since we waited so long to get this, you can fire off two shots in an action now, or three next level.

speaking of…

11. Warlock 2: second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, and for once we’re not grabbing improved pact weapon right away. first off, Agonizing Blast adds your charisma modifier to all eldritch blast attacks, making your hand canon more of a canon. second, Grasp of Hadar means your blasts are pulling double duty, both as your gun and your grapplehand. once a turn, you can pull a creature you hit with Eldritch Blast closer to you by 10’.

there really isn’t another first level spell I want, but Witch Bolt is pretty consistent, especially given how easy it is for you to catch up to people.

12. Monk 7: now that all the pieces of your offensive kit are finally together, we can focus on defense a bit. now you know Evasion, making your dexterity saves one step better than most people’s. i-frames are just silly, man. also your Stillness of Mind lets you end effects charming or frightening you as an action. most demons are completely immune, and even if you’re only part demon it’s still a solid defense.

13. Monk 8: eighth level monks get another ASI let’s grab the Resilient feat to bump up your Charisma and give you proficiency in Charisma saves. I’m pretty sure you can’t get banished, but let’s make sure of it. it would suck to drag yourself all the way to hell for a fight just to get kicked back to the material plane.

14. Monk 9: ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, letting you run up walls and over water, as long as you end your turn somewhere solid. no word on if this lets you hop on enemy’s heads like Mario, but that sounds cool enough I’d allow it.

15. Monk 10: tenth level monks have a Purity of Body, which means you can’t be diseased or poisoned. you run around some pretty nasty places when you fight, best not to worry about the sewer water in your cuts.

16. Monk 11: eleventh level monks have an Aspect of the Wyrm you can activate once a day for a minute as a bonus action. this creates a 10’ radius aura that either makes you frighten a creature in this area once a turn, a minute per creature, or you can give your allies resistance to one of the five elemental choices from earlier. demons are tough, you are demon, do the math.

I know I said this was once a day, but you can also do it again by spending three ki points.

17. Warlock 3: okay, basics down, you’re tough as hell, you combo good- lets make the sword a little spicier. the Pact of the Blade makes your longsword magical, and you can use an action to summon it out of the ether. you can make the sword yourself, or turn any magical weapon into your pact weapon, your choice.

also grab Earthbind to drag flying enemies to the ground. you can go up to them, or they can come to you. again, your choice.

18. Warlock 4: for our last ASI, bump up your Charisma again for stronger shots, more health per kill, and to just look cooler when you hit stuff.

you also get Blade Ward for resistance to physical damage types for a round because god knows you didn’t have enough damage types to block, as well as Misty Step. I know you’re already fast enough that this barely helps, but flash stepping is still cool. that, and sometimes you don’t want to break a window to get in. you’re not Dante, after all.

19. Warlock 5: fifth level warlocks get third level spells like Spirit Shroud for the most spice a sword can handle. now you can deal radiant, necrotic, or cold damage on your sword, (none of which account for it catching fire, admittedly) and you slow enemies and prevent them from healing while in the area. it’s not quite witchtimey enough to be Ragtime, but there’s only so many levels we can throw into magic.

you also get an Improved Pact Weapon, finally, so you can use your sword to cast your spells, and it’s a +1 blade to boot.

20. Warlock 6: for our final level you get the Dark One’s Own Luck for the ultimate in protagonist powers- once a short rest, you can add a d10 to a check or save before you find out how well you did. some fights are literally just save after save after save, best come prepared.

speaking of saves, the best saves to make are the ones you don’t have to roll. grab Counterspell to make that dream a reality. I know Nero can’t completely negate attacks in game, so just chalk this up to his improbable dodging skills.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

so first off, the big one. you’re fast as hell, with 50’ of movement speed, the ability to run up walls, and you can fly. flying monks are terrifying, just look at how many tables straight up banned Aarakocras before they got nerfed literally into the ground.

you also deal good damage, a lot of it, very quickly, in a lot of different flavors. use hex or spirit shroud to add a little damage to every attack, then make six in a single turn while also switching up your damage type on every unarmed strike- it’s like a rainbow of pain. a painbow, if you will. if something has a weakness, you will know. if they have a resistance, you can avoid it.

speaking of, you have a lot of resistances, making you surprisingly hard to kill. you can block elements, holy and unholy damage, physical strikes- if you know what you’re fighting, you can fight it for a lot longer. on top of that, you can heal yourself in multiple ways, including when you kill something or when you’re about to kill something. which is 90% of the time.

Cons:

this build is pretty MAD, and I’m not just talking about the darkness of night falling around your soul. no, I mean Multi-Ability Dependent. we need dexterity for your sword and ac, constitution to not die, wisdom to multiclass, and charisma for your gun and grapples. that’s a lot, and its why we couldn’t get more fun punching stuff like Crusher to really sell your super strength.

you also have to manage multiple resources at once, most of which have some pretty tight limits. you’ve got three fighting spirits per day, plus 11 ki and two spells per short rest. Nero takes a pretty big brain to play, even if he has negative intelligence.

while flexibility is the name of your game, you do have a couple skills that require you to lock in what you’re doing ahead of time. if you use hex or spirit shroud you’re probably not going to use dragon breath for a while. if you use Aspect of the Wyrm you’d best know exactly what kind of enemy you’re going up against, or you just wasted your resistance. it’s not the end of the world since most of the time demons are either one-note or your dad, but it’s something to keep in mind.

#dnd 5e #dnd #devil may cry #dmc #Nero #fighter #warlock #monk

20 notes · View notes

msweebyness · 1 year

Text

Mirrorverse Crossover- Marinette

Well, lookie here! Ya’ll get a double-feature today, fitting for our fave pair of besties! Here’s our girl Mari! Enjoy!

A strong tension filled the air between the two young women who sat in the room. Marilan’s intense, sharp bluebell eyes never left her fur-clothed counterpart for a single moment, unwilling to give her even the smallest chance to pull something shady. Marinette DeVil wouldn’t admit it if her life was on the line, but that fierce and focused gaze was actually quite intimidating…So was the gleaming sword that rested at her hero-self’s hip, standing out against the pink silk of her casual hanfu. The fashion maven thought that she might as well try to break the ice, maybe it would get the other girl out of ‘warrior mode’…

“You can relax, you know, darling. I’m not going try and hurt you. Even a villain like me knows better than to attack a highly-trained fighter who has a weapon on their person when I myself am unarmed.”, Mari DeVil said in the cool and just-slightly-condescending tone she had mastered over the years.

“Forgive me if, after meeting those that you keep company with, I’m not the most inclined to trust you when you tell me you mean no harm.”, Marilan said firmly, not letting up even a little, her eyes narrowing as her delicate fingers moved closer to her blade out of instinct.

“Whatever you say, dear.”, Mari DeVil sighed dramatically, waving her hand dismissively as she tried to think of another way to get the girl to let her guard down. Her fair skin was starting to burn from that glare! Remembering that little incident with her universe’s Kim earlier on, she found a new topic to test out.

“So, darling, you and your universe’s Kagami and Adrien seem quite close. Your partners in a romantic sense, I assume?”, the villainous fashionista ventured, a teasing little smile crossing her lips.

“Yes. Do you take issue with that somehow?”, the warrior asked, her eyes narrowing once more as if daring the other girl to say something against her relationship or others like it.

“Oh, my god, no, love! To be completely honest, I have my eye on a few lovelies myself. If you can have them all, why should you choose? Especially when you can watch them all battle for your hand!”, Mari DeVil said with a mirthful cackle.

Ignoring the last part, for the first time, Marilan’s demeanor seemed to ease as she thought of her brave fighter and her gentle prince, warmth spreading through her heart as she sighed softly.

“I don’t know where I would be without either of them. Kagami, my yǒnggǎn de*, she is my inspiration, her proud spirit drives me to be a worthy warrior to stand by her side.”, she said as she took up her blade, looking at her reflection in the shining metal with a wistful smile.

Mari DeVil managed to keep herself from rolling her eyes. For wickedness’ sake, these heroes really were a bunch of saps, weren’t they? She snapped back to attention as her hero counterpart continued.

“And Adrien, my jīn huā**, he is such a gentle soul. His kindness and compassion never ceases to amaze me.”, Marilan went on to say warmly as she sheathed the sword, before turning solemn, “I will do anything to protect him, and I know Kagami feels the same.”

— — —

Back with rest of the heroic and villainous teenagers, a loud, obnoxious, and mocking laugh sounded out from arguably the most arrogant person in the room.

“HA! You need your widdle girlfwiends to protect you, Mister Princess?! Pathetic! What kind of a man needs a couple of girls to do his fighting for him?!”, Kimton sneered, before launching into another peal of mean-spirited laughter. LeOnDine giggled in agreement, seeking his approval as usual.

The egotistical hunter was suddenly the target of a barrage of fiery, angry glares from the heroic half of the gathered assembly, one of the fiercest coming from his own counterpart. No one got away with bullying their Adrien!

“I-I don’t like fighting…or hurting people…”, Adripunzel choked out quietly, tears welling in the sensitive boy’s luminous green eyes.

“I figured asss much.”, Jafardrien scoffed, disgusted at how easily this counterpart of his was wounded emotionally. It only took one measly insult to get him crying?

“I-I just like healing people, not causing them pain.”, Adripunzel timidly explained, his demeanor starting to brighten again, to the relief of his friends. As the boy began to hum the tune of a certain song, his long golden hair donned a soft, beautiful glow. Not noticing that a certain other blonde donning a dark cloak was now watching him like a predatory hawk.

”Your…your hair…”, Lacey Gothel rasped, catching everyone’s attention, “The magic of the sundrop flower…”, hand drawing her trusty dagger as she began to move towards the suddenly frightened prince, whose hair had returned to its dormant state.

Before the demented murderess could reach her target, however, a fearsome wall of a woman stood between them. One who was currently aiming a lethally sharpened arrow straight at her forehead. Lacey Gothel jumped back with a start.

“If you take so much as one step closer to him, I will put this through your skull and end your miserable existence faster than you can blink.”, Kagamerida spoke in a voice of solid stone, the flames behind her glare promising truth in each word.

Around her, many of the other heroic students were also taking defensive stances and drawing their own weapons, all ready to defend their friend, no matter what. The villainous Lacey gulped, she may have overestimated her chances here…

“Settle down now, ya’ll.”, Doctor Cabello intervened smoothly, “Lacey here was just messin’ around, weren’t you?”, they assured, giving the girl in question a meaningful look, with the blonde hastily nodding.

“A-ah, yes, of course! My apologies, if I frightened you!”, Lacey Gothel rushed out, visibly sweating under the glares of the hero clan, “Shall we get back to watching then?”

— — —

“Hey, don’t forget about me! I’m important too!”, a high, somewhat nasally male voice suddenly cut through the air in the room. Mari DeVil started, and began to look around the room for the source. When she turned back to her counterpart, a black cat with luminescent green eyes had appeared seemingly from thin air.

“Of course, Plagg! What would I do without you?”, Marilan laughed warmly, her eyes crinkling with a smile as she stroked under the cat-Plagg, she had said-‘s chin. Until she noticed that Mari DeVil was giving her companion a look she didn’t particularly like.

“Such beautiful, silky black fur…he’d make a perfect shawl...”, the dual-haired vixen muses, admiring the shine of the feline’s coat and earning a sharp hiss in response.

“Excuse me?”, Marilan gaped, placing a hand protectively over her guardian’s head as she took a step back from her villain-self. What on Earth was wrong with this girl?

“Well, that’s all a mangy, fleabitten little beast like him is good for anyway, dear!”, Mari DeVil sneered, looking at Plagg and her counterpart with distaste, “Bah, pets! I’ve never understood why people keep the filthy little menaces with them!”, she went on to declare, tossing her hair haughtily.

“All creatures, be they people or not, are deserving of compassion!”, Marilan said firmly, fire filling her soul at the other girl’s cruelty, as well as the urge to draw her trusted blade.

“And I’d like to see you try and skin a guardian spirit, lady!”, Plagg snapped, arching his back and hissing once more as he shot her a warning look.

“Well, isn’t that sweet? I’m going to have to disagree with you though, love!”, Mari DeVil laughed wickedly, ignoring the feline’s outburst, “I LIVE for furs, I WORSHIP furs! One day I’ll have the pelt of every animal on the planet! Who could be more fashionable than me then?”, she declared grandly, twirling around as she stroked the white tufts of the coat she currently donned.

“You really have no regard for any life that isn’t your own, do you? The fact that you are my counterpart is an insult to myself and my family! I have never met so dishonorable a person in my life!”, Marilan snarled, her hand on the hilt of her sword as she shot the loathsome villainess a hateful glare.

“Why thank you, darling! You really are too sweet!”, Mari DeVil howled in a mad fit of cackling, “Though I’m curious to know how you’d plan to stop me from taking your little kitty there!”, she taunted, a crazed look in her eyes as she eyed this little girl who fancied herself a hero and a warrior, before descending into villainous laughter once more.

Only for that laughter to abruptly stop when her pink-clad counterpart moved too fast for her eyes to even track, and finding herself with one of Marilan’s hands restraining her own behind her back and the other holding that blasted sword against her throat.

“Does that answer your question?”, Marilan snapped in a voice as frigid as the power wielded by the Marc from this universe.

“Oh…bother.”

- - -

* “Brave One”

** “Golden Flower”

- - -

And there it was folks! Don’t mess with Adripunzel, or threaten the people and animals Marilan cares about! As always, shout out to @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27! As usual, leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs! And keep an eye out for Artzy posting the Naths!

#miraculous ladybug #disney au #class of heroes #class of villainy #crossover #marinette dupain cheng #cruella de vil #Mulan

17 notes · View notes

talesfromsiteredacted · 1 year

Text

Testing: Phase Two

O5 wants to see firsthand how I'd handle myself in a legitimate breach. Lucky for them, and unlucky for me... Big Brother woke up and chose violence. He trashed his quarters, is chasing the guards around, classic Abel on a rampage. All because Agent Dimitriov had to take a few days to say good bye to his dying mother. So, into the Semetic dragon's den go I. Honestly... I have a bad feeling about this, kids.

Great. He was doing so well. Then, sadly, Dimi lost his mom. Thus, Abel is now tearing apart the killing corridor piece by piece. Just in time for O5 to see just how much I learned from Big Brother. So, it's just me going in. Clef is livid. He's trailing behind myself and the O5, shouting at them.

"You can't be serious, sending Rabbit in alone. And unarmed? She's not ready. You're not throwing her into the deep end, you're throwing her to a very angry shark." At this, O5-12 spins on his heel.

"Do you have a better idea on determining if our Rabbit can swim? Besides, this line of reasoning is almost comical coming from you, Dr. Clef. Are you, or are you not, known for "simulating" type Green attacks in your classes?"

"Yeah, but-"

"This is no different. Rabbit can do this. We have faith in her. Now, stop coddling her and let her get on with it. Proceed with testing, Dr. Snow." I swallow my nerves and approach the doors. Just before I go in, Clef stops me.

"Be careful, Snowbunny. I'd hate to have to find a new assistant, you're a tough act to follow." I force myself to smile before I answer.

"No worries, I'll be fine. But... if I survive I think I earned takeout."

"Done. Try not to die, Snowbunny." A quick hug, a passing kiss on the cheek, and... into the mouth of hell I go. I try not to wince when the doors close behind me.

I reach the killing corridor proper, and don't even get to wince before Big Brother is swinging at my head with a kopesh. I teleport behind him, kick him down. Then, he gets up and tackles me. He punches my head, but finds only the steel plating where I was. I stab him in his left leg with an ice shard. Bad call. He just yanks it out, flings it back at my head. I duck, it shatters. Before I can recover, I'm dodging a flurry of punches while trying to hit him back. This... is going to get me killed. But... if I can pull this off, it might take some of the fight out of Abel. While I'm trying to fight off his attacks, he's managed to not only expose a very handy piece of steel plumbing pipe, he's also thoughtfully disconnected a large segment of it, about two meters. Bit heavy, but... I manage to levitate it and swing it as hard as I can. Abel tumbles off me, holding his head. Before long, he recovers. He's slower, so at least I concussed him. I take my chance to see if I can snap him out of it.

"SCP 076-2, WHAT IN THE KENTUCKY FRIED FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?"

Shit. Forgot my voice also got power upgrades. He looks like I just flash-banged him point blank. His dagger clatters to the floor. Awareness dawns on him like a sunrise.

"You... screamed at me. Did... oh, (untranslatable), I might have made a mistake."

"Yeah, but it's fixable. No worries. Sorry." I grab Abel's shoulder, give it a gentle squeeze. "Hey, Dimi will be back in two days. That's 48 hours. You made it twice that before today. I know you miss him, this just isn't how to handle it."

"You are, as always right, Little Sister. This is all new to me."

"It's okay. Just... maybe ask to use the Rage Cage next time?"

The intercom crackles by the door.

"Wait... when did we get a Rage Cage? Oh, you mean the Room of Self Replicating Porcelain Plates? How do you know about that? That's Level 4 clearance, Dr. Snow." There's quiet murmuring behind O5-2. "Dr. Clef's assistant, in charge of Anomalous Enrichment Protocol? Oh,.. yeah. Fine. We will authorize 076-2 for the Rage Cage. But! No more rampages, understood?"

"Understood."

"Good."

"O5-2, sir? Request permission to escort 076-2 to the Rage Cage to... calm down, give the E-Class a chance to straighten up in here. I'll keep a very sharp eye on him."

"See that you do, Dr. Snow." Abel consents to being strapped down for transport. As this is happening, and can take a bit due to multiple multiple straps, I step into the hall. O5-11 is talking to Clef, waiting.

"I knew you'd handle things, Dr. Snow. And, Dr. Clef? Fire her and the Red Right Hand will shoot you."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir. In a way... I think I owe O5-6 some whiskey for hiring her." This had me smiling despite the pain creeping in from where Abel hit me. Ugh. Thank 343 it was mostly fists on his end. Even still, I'm going to be black and blue all over by nightfall. But... no, I didn't die. Sure, no amount of makeup will cover the huge bruise I'm sure is forming on my left jawline, but I survived, somehow.

#scp foundation #tales from site redacted #dr snow #scp 076 2 #dr clef #scp o5

4 notes · View notes

adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 10 months

Text

NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 14

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: ART

Once again I’m reminded just how fucking scary sharp Shay’s sword actually is, the way she manages to cut Granzun’s wrist clean in two even though the blade was jammed right through the steel of his bracer. She gives it a particularly rough twist as he keeps whipping her about while screaming in very clear pain, and I guess between this and her pure momentum it’s enough to cleave right through armour, bone and mahogany-tough muscle altogether. Suddenly he’s reeling back, mostly unbalanced, and she goes flying. I can’t tell if she pitches her sword on purpose as she tumbles to keep from stabbing herself or just loses her grip, but then she lands, and she does it hard. Coming down face-first.

Fuck … that had to hurt. I don’t even think about what I’m doing, I just break off the attack I was preparing to make and instead rush to her, tossing aside the sword and knife she gifted to me before we left the mountains as I land on my knees and skid to her side. I reach out quick, already worryingly aware that she’s just sprawled facedown, limp now with her limbs just thrown out haphazard, and I’m scared to death he’s just fucking killed her on the spot. So I take hold of her arm and shoulder and almost gingerly try turning her over, almost dreading what I’m gonna see.

Her face is a mess, her nose visibly broken with blood gushing from her nostrils while there’s an ugly gash torn deep in the now twisted bridge, but at least her jaw looks intact, and she ain’t bleeding from anywhere else. She’s right out, though, looks like it. I shuffle closer as I flip her over onto her back, tangentially mindful I can hear chaos erupting right behind me and knowing I’m being supremely dumb not keeping an eye on my back right now …

Still being extremely wary in case I hurt her even more, I give her face a gentle tap, vaguely hoping maybe she’s really just stunned, but it don’t illicit a response beyond a slight puff from her lips as she lets a vague gasp of air out. But she also breathes in again too, which is a fucking relief. She’s still alive, just knocked fucking cold. Great …

“Is she all right?” The voice makes me jump, I actually cock my right paw ready for an unarmed strike with my claws extending as instinct takes over, but barely manage to hold back at the last when I realise it’s just Lady Naru dropping to her knees right next to me, one arm up high as she holds onto her propped staff. “Gods, that hit –”

“She’s alive.” I manage to growl, my voice raspier than I’d like as my throat catches, feeling uncomfortably thick right now. Fuck, I was even more worried than I thought I was … “It’s fucking bad, though. What about … shit, is Yeslee –”

“Also alive, but she won’t be helping out much either, I’m afraid. Whatever he threw at us managed to shock her with something very much like a lightning bolt, she’s lucky it didn’t burn her to a crisp. It might have done if it had been a little more powerful. As it is she’s entirely incapacitated.” She looks fretful over Shay, clearly, but there’s an edge to her all the same, like a cold anger too. “Something tells me that nasty little gift from Tavarrat was intended for me.”

“Get Krakka. Right now. Quick as you can, get him up here, he needs to fix Shay, and Yes too.” I get a foot under me now, preparing to push up again. “If you can, I need you to back me up right after. I really don’t know if I can beat him.”

Her eyes widen as she seems to realise what I mean, but I’m already turning away as I push myself up into a crouch. For a moment I regard my sword and long knife, still lying where I tossed them, but then I realise if I am gonna try and kill my one-time friend, I’m gonna need something a whole lot more serious than them. So I turn back round and cast about for a moment before I spot Shay’s sword. The one she earned when she helped us kill Ashsong, the one he killed Gael with, back in the mountains. The one that can cut right through plate steel armour …

I find it lying several feet away … and Granzun’s between me and it. As he wheels about again, seeming to struggle now with Brung scrambling all over him and trying to inflict as much damage as he can while his target tries his damnedest to cast him off, he comes perilously close to me now. I have to duck aside as the axe in his remaining fist comes withing a hair of taking my head off, and in the end I just dive forward, turning the landing into a clumsy roll that brings me close to the sword, but in the end I’m carrying too much momentum. Smacking into the wall gives my shoulder a big jog, and it’s the one I got shot in the other night, so I feel an extra deep jab of hot pain that leaves me curled up where I am, sucking in a hard breath through my gritted teeth as I wince. Fuck …

Then I sense someone ducking close by me and I react, starting to pull a knife before I realise it’s just Zul. He drops heavily to his knees beside me, and he still looks uncomfortably shaky now I’m able to focus on him. His eyes are glassier than I’d like, a lot of blood streaking his face from the wounds he took when he got slammed, while his hands are shaky as he reaches one out towards me. But he don’t slur his words when he speaks, which is a good enough sign for me. “You with me there, mate?”

“Oof …” I sit forward , giving my shoulder a good rub while I work it a little, and while it’s sore and tetchy again it don’t feel like the hit did any fresh damage. It was pretty much healed after last time, Krakka made sure of that before we went to the Hardway, but I guess my body’s got too good a memory to just forget about the wound. “Yeah, that just hurt is all. Not my finest moment.”

“Well you’re still upright, at least.” He takes a deep breath and blinks at me now. “Where d’you want me?”

“No, c’mon … Zul, please, just sit this one out. You’re a mess. You can’t do this right now.” I chance a look past Granzun, and I see that Lady Naru’s disappeared now, which must mean she’s gone to fetch Krakka. He might be here in seconds if she ports him, although I suspect she might be wary of doing that on the return with all this shit going on. But either way … “Look, there’s help coming. Just wait, I’m gonna deal with Gran myself. Once and for all.”

“You’re sure? I mean … Art, it’s him. He was one of us … are you really sure you can even do it?”

Biting my lip a little, I shift my weight around a bit as I start to pick myself up again, getting my feet back under me. “Don’t look like we got much choice, does it? He ain’t coming quiet, and we won’t be able to take him alive. He’s too much to handle for that. I have to put him down. But I don’t have to like it.”

Zul’s frown tightens as he lets a heavy, somewhat shaky sigh go, and grabs hold of my wrist with surprising strength. “Well just fucking well watch yourself, you daft bastard. Ain’t just you you gotta think about anymore, remember?”

Honestly, I dunno what to say to that, so I just lay my paw over his hand and give it a squeeze before pulling free and pushing away from my spot under the window, stopping to scrape the sword up in my right hand as I duck in a loose circle towards Granzun. Just as he finally manages to chuck Brung off … and he sends him flying straight out the fucking busted window.

Seeing that almost brings me up short, but I adjust instead and change my direction as he turns and starts to approach Shay’s prone form. Yeah, no way I’m letting that happen, so I just leap at him, bringing the sword round overhead as I grip it with both hands now, intent on just cutting right down into him with it.

I almost make it, but while my run was silent enough and he’s clearly losing a lot of blood from the spewing stump of what’s left of his severed right wrist, he’s still got his wits about him enough to spot me through the corner of his eye. So he turns at the last and brings his arm up, intent on swatting me aside … except he must’ve forgot he’s missing a hand now, so instead the wet end only just catches me on the backswing and instead of getting belted into the wall hard enough to break my back I just get knocked to the floor instead. I twist as I land and roll up into a tight crouch with one splayed paw out to support me, while I’ve still got hold of Ashsong’s sword.

It's a longer, heavier weapon than I’m really used to, I’ve always trained with shorter and lighter blades, so I’m not really too used to this kind of heft, but it’s not too much of a difference for me to adjust to. So I take a moment to shift my fingers around the hilt to find a better grip as Granzun turns to bring his full attention to bear on me, and take a few low, crabbing steps to the side, putting the wall at my back now as I work on opening a little more space between us. Not that there’s that much to work with in here to begin with.

For a long moment he just watches me, his eyes taking in the blade I’m slowly getting a feel for, already wet with his blood, then returning to my face, my eyes. Watching for the change in ‘em he’s been trained to look for much as I been. Any indicator of my intent. Suddenly I got old bouts from our days in training flashing through my head, and I’m sure he’s thinking the same, remembering how hard we both found it to try and beat each other once we both got real good.

Yeah … he’s a whole lot bigger’n me, and a lot faster and more agile than he looks, but while I’m way smaller I’m also a whole lot more nimble too, and even he has trouble hitting what he can’t see. He’s bleeding bad, maybe even bleeding to death, I could just try an’ just wear him down until he just drops, but … no, that ain’t gonna work, it’s a moron’s plan. He’s fucking huge. The sheer amount o’ blood in him, it’s gonna take him too long to bleed out for that to work. I gotta beat him now, which means I still gotta outfight him.

Grunting, he takes a quick step towards me, and I shift quick to the side to dodge the attack I’m sure is coming … but instead of rushing me he just chucks the axe right at me. Shit … It’s pitched low, too, I can’t duck under this without just dropping flat on my face, and then I’d be bait for him to just stomp me before I could spring up again. So I Just leap up instead, springing over the spinning blade as it shrieks by under my tucking feet and then I whip them out to land in a wide horse-stance. Only to find he really is coming right at me after all, and now he’s got his remaining hand free he’s drawing the sword on his right hip.

Fuck … like the rest of his main weapons, it’s a big bastard, to him it’s more of a shortsword but it’s easily long, wide and heavy enough to be the typical lengthy orcish cleaver that they seem to favour. I don’t have time to try and spring away or duck past him as he comes this time, so instead I got no choice but to duel him like he clearly intends, which means when he swings at me in a big haymaker I have to stand my ground and parry. I bring the sword round in both hands, turn and tuck quick as I can in order to catch the swing, and when our blades connect it’s as brutally devastating a hit as I expected. It don’t quite knock me off my feet but they still skid a few feet before I can force a stop, and as he drags his sword away to recover I take a careful step back to plant my feet more comfortably, waiting for the next move while I weather the angry buzz in the steel.

He don’t make me wait long, adjusting his own footing too before jogging two big, fast steps to the left before feinting right again, and as he switches the stroke first one way and then the other he adjusts as I start to wheel aside to avoid the stroke. Instead he comes in low from the other side, and once again I’m reminded just how uncanny his speed really is for someone so unusually huge as I have to leap aside to avoid getting cut in two by another heavy slash for my midsection. As it is I feel the blade come close enough to pass within a bare inch of my stomach, and I’m off-balance for a blink before I’m able to right myself as he recovers from the miss.

So I just commit to the forward momentum and spring into a charge, catching myself quickly enough to avoid just spilling onto my face in the first few steps as I weave round to his left and then spring into a high leap towards his disarmed shoulder. And he ain’t quite so quick to react in time to this one. Ashsong’s sword bites deep into his exposed pauldron and sinks far into the side of his chest before it finally wedges, and as he reels back I hold on, letting him pull me as I kick my feet off the floor and flip them up under me, coiling my legs now. As he reels back into the wall with a wounded grunt I bring my feet up and plant them hard into his stomach, then pull with my legs as much as my arms and back. The blade only sticks for a second …

With a messy, wet pop, I go flying back with the now much bloodier sword still clutched tightly in both hands as a powerful spray hits me in my face and chest. I can’t do anything but just go with my momentum as I land hard on my back, and it’s a miracle I maintain my grip as I feel the wind thoroughly battered out of me. I have to blink to see anything with my eyes suddenly painted with arterial blood, and when I’m able to focus I see him staggering drunkenly for a few beats, his cloven shoulder gaping wide and grisly as his pulse sends another jet spraying from the open wound. Damn, that wound’s gonna fuck him up a good deal more’n the last one … and yet he’s still coming, already fighting to focus enough to come for me again.

Flat on my back like this, all I can do as he brings a big, heavy chopping swing down on me is roll to the side, and he’s unsteady enough on his feet now that I’m already scrambling up onto my feet round his side while he works to drag the blade free from the boards. I take a beat to swipe the back of my wrist across my face, trying the best I can to get some o’ this blood outta my face, but it’s so greasy it don’t seem to do much beside making my arm messy too. Gritting my teeth I just take a few steps back the other way, leading him in a dance as I work on finding an opening as he starts to half-prowl, half-stagger towards me once again.

A big glob of crackling blue energy smacks hard into his good shoulder and he spins on he feet as he stumbles back, not going down but trotting about in a mad, wheeling dance. In the end he turns full circle on particularly unsteady feet before finally coming to rest with his back making another spiderweb of the wall as he turns to me, his dimming attention shifting from me to my side, and I chance my own sidelong glance that way too.

Lady Naru’s cautiously closing in, sidestepping some herself to flank him, and she’s abandoned her staff now for her sword, held high in both hands with the tip pointing towards him. There’s something strange about the blade, I notice, a subtle glinting shine in the steel, not like the strange flowing heat when Krakka blessed it but more a sparkling pulse. And there’s a sound coming from it too, an eerie ringing note, subtle but just high enough to be uncomfortable in my ears. A pregnant spell, charged and waiting for her to set it loose. Crafty, my Lady. Damn crafty.

Gran’s holding his sword low between us, but I know it still ain’t fatigue from the blood loss, not yet, even though he must be feeling it now. His eyes still have some brightness as they flicker between us, blood red in their irises. He’s ready for us to come, I’m sure. So I hold for now, and the sorcerer’s cautious enough to do the same.

I can hear Krakka muttering behind me now, so I don’t need to look to know he’s tending to Shay, praying to his goddess to get her up again. Thank you, Lady Naru. You’re a fucking saint, I swear.

Gran shoves himself away from the wall, but he’s swaying badly now. The wounds are starting to take their toll like I thought, the way that deep gouge I landed keeps pumping angry jets with each beat of his heart I know he’ll be fading now, so he just wants to end it on his terms. I turn just enough so I can look at Lady Naru and raise my free hand enough to hold it out to her over my sword-arm. Signalling for her to stand down. Through the corner of my eye I see her frown, but after a pregnant pause she finally nods, taking a big step back as she lowers her sword and lets go with her offhand, and the spell seems to die as she does it. When I look up I see Gran’s watching her close, eyes narrowed, but he finally nods too, acknowledging her compliance with a warrior’s respect. Then he turns back to me, and nods again. He's ready.

Taking a deep breath, I give the sword a little flourish off to the side, turning it over in my hand as I whip it to shake off as much of the excess blood as I can, but given what I’ve learned from Shay I know it’s already drinking what’s on there. Trying not to think about that unpleasant little detail, I just take a slow, wary step forward and to the right, moving more into the space the sorcerer’s now vacating, and Gran takes a very deliberate, careful step the other way in response. Adjusting his own grip on his much larger sword, a gesture I mirror as I tense up, ready for whatever he plans next.

Breathing out in a great hot snort through his nostrils, Gran charges me with his face tight and shoulders squared, keeping his weapon low and idle until the last moment as I bounce on the balls of my own feet and just let him come. Then I leap aside at the last, letting him respond however he chooses, and he don’t disappoint, spinning his sword round in a blinding quick flourish that’s good enough to damn near catch me out as I duck aside the other way. I bring the sword up with both hands and put some weight into the counter in order to swat the blow aside, and it still clangs loud with a subtly off crystalline ping as I parry the stroke. Then I duck and weave back the way I went first, just managing to come in under his defences as he tries to wheel aside and cutting another deep upward slash right through his centre of mass.

I feel another splash hit me as I power out through his side, but this one’s weaker, and he’s already starting to falter, staggering in a wide drunken circle before his legs start to give out while I turn, giving the blade another flick to clean it again. Then his left just buckles and he spills onto his knee, letting go of his sword so he can catch himself before he smashes down on his face. He grunts as he lands, a thin string of bloody drool dropping from his slackening mouth as his head lolls, and there’s a more blood and … some much more unpleasant stuff starting to pour from the big, ugly fissure I just carved right through him. He manages to hold himself for a few more moments as the rest of his guts spill through the hole, and while my gorge starts to rise hearing that wet, heavy splatter I mostly just feel … shame now. Sorrow and burgeoning grief and more than a little guilt as I realise what I just did.

Fuck … I let the sword slip from my paw and stumble forward, dropping to my knees beside him despite the fact his blood’s starting to pool under him now. Feeling the lump in my throat thicken, tears starting to prick the corners of my eyes, my breathing coming quicker now.

His own breathing’s a lot more ragged now, rasping and cracking as he desperately tries to drag in fresh air while his lungs sound like they’re starting to seize … then his other knee gives out and he slumps onto his side, letting out a great winded wheeze as he settles. His hand twitches weakly on the floor beside him, and I know it’s questing for his sword. Of course …

Leaning to the side, I take hold of the great dark cleaver’s pommel and drag it to his hand until his fingers can touch the well-worn leather of the grip and curl round it again. The fist tightens into something much like the approaching death-grip, and he lets a more relieved grunt go as he just settles now, his head dropping to meet the boards. He lets it loll back a little now and his eyes search for a moment before finally finding my face. “Oh … hey there, Art … how are you … that was … one sweet move, there …”

“I know … I know it was … I’m so sorry, Gran.” I have to cough hard to clear my throat, my voice is already failing me. I let the tears come, seeing that there’s no malice in his gaze now as he’s slipping away, he’s at peace now. “I wish … fuck, I really wish I hadn’t done that. That I …”

“Shut up, you daft bastard …” he rumbles, managing a weak but rueful smile. “I don’t care … you understood in the end … I just wanna go out right …”

“Thorin’ll have a flagon waiting for you in Valhalla, I’m sure of it.” I catch movement close by now, looking up through the corner of my eye so I can see that it’s Zul, picking his way round the best he can to join me. Still unsteady on his feet, but good enough to stumble over, at least. “Don’t worry, we’re here. It’s just a shame …” My voice cracks and I gotta take a hitching breath to regain my composure enough to try again. “I wish Darwyn could’ve come too, so she could be here for this …”

“Tell her I’m sorry … none o’ this worked out how I wanted it to …”

“You can make up for it now, if you wanted to …” I wince, I can’t help it, I hate myself for asking in the first place, but I got to. I owe it to Gael. “You can tell me what they’re doing, where they are. Jammund ain’t here, that’s clear enough. Where is he? Where’s my friend?”

His smile fades as he looks up at me, but there’s none of the reproach I might’ve expected, or a return of the anger, or even bitter disappointment. He just sighs, seeming to deflate again. “Yeah … y’know that ain’t gonna happen … I’m sorry, Art … your’re gonna have to … oh …” He winces too now, tensing a little, although no more than his weakened state can manage now. His eyes are glazing now, his skin paling under the green. “Fuck … no, you ended me all right … and I can’t give up my mates … no more’n you can yours …”

“Gran …” I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to start screaming, wanting to shake him but holding back, clenching my paws in tight fists in my lap. “Fuck … c’mon man, please …”

“Take care of her, you daft bastard …” he manages to wheeze out, his breathing coming shallow as hell now, his voice fading to a husky whisper. “I saw … I saw how she looked at you … last time … she still loves you …” His eyes slide off me now, having to search again for another moment before he manages to find Zul now. “And you … fuck, Zul … I’m sorry about running out … on you … too … oh …”

“You got nothing to apologise for there, mate.” Zul breathes gentle as he reaches out now, laying his hand on Gran’z big fist. Their size difference is so significant I can easily also put mine right next to his with room to spare. “I just missed you.”

“Yeah …” His voice is barely more’n a rattling whisper, each breath he takes shallower than the last. “I missed … you two’n all … listen … you see Luthen … tell her I didn’t … blame her for … well … she’ll know …” His last word trails off into a wheezing breath that finally just dies, nothing following it. A beat later his body sags more completely, until his cheek comes to rest on the floor entirely, and that seems to be it.

For a long moment I stay where I am, down on me knees, still resting my paw on half of Granzun’s hand, watching him as I just take it in, what’s happened. When I finally look up I see Zul doing the same, his own cheeks are similarly wet. Our friend is dead, and it’s by my hands. Fuck …

Then I just kick away fast, scrabbling back on my arse as I try to get as far away from the body as possible, but I can only go so far before my back meets the remains of one o’ the couches and I can’t go any further. I’ve landed surprisingly close to the sword, I see, still slick with his blood, but much less of it than I would’ve expected, I realise … gods, that is horrible, the way that works. Finally I look down at my paws, seeing the speckled, splattered blood soaking into the fur on my fingers and dashing the leather of my gloves and bracers. I almost throw up on the spot seeing that.

Instead I grit my teeth tight and brush my paws forcefully across my thighs, trying to get them clean enough to carry on at least, then just give up as I push myself up onto my feet and take a few big steps away, turning my back on the scene itself now. Heading straight for Krakka as he tends to Shay.

He’s still got her head laid in his lap as he holds his hands to either side of her head, but her eyes are open now, and as I approach they turn to track me, seeming clear enough. Fuck … after what just happened that’s a big relief. Her face is still a gory mess from all the blood, and her nose is already swelling, but straight enough despite it, telling me Krakka must’ve snapped the bridge back into shape before he tried doing anything else. The nasty gash across it seems to be mostly closed up now, too, which is another good sign. As I draw close she tries a smile, but it looks shaky, still a certain wooziness in her eyes I don’t like.

“Hey.” I drop into a crouch beside her, keeping my voice soft and gentle. “Nice to see you back with us. How you feeling?”

“Oh …” she sighs as she seems to consider for a moment, and her voice is pretty weak too, her words a little slurred. “I feel like shit, Art. What did you expect?” Her eyes narrow and her brows start to knit a little as she looks me over, trying to focus now. “What about you? You seem … oh … what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I lie through my teeth, unable to stop myself from looking away now so I doubt she believes me for a second. “I’m just … coming down. Adrenaline and all that shit.” I look at Krakka. “How is she? Really?”

“Beaten up, but mending. She took a very nasty hit there, though, I won’t be comfortable about it until we get her back to the temple so Shul and the healers can give her a more expert check-up. Just in case I missed anything.”

“I’ll be all right.” she waves her hand about a bit, not able to lift it more’n an inch or two off her chest right now so the gesture is very vague. “M’fighting fit, me. Daughter of Min the Reckless, toughest fighter in all the Northern Reaches. This is nothing.”

“Of course it is.” Krakka answers her very gently, but gives me a knowing look while he says it. I can’t help grinning a rueful little half-smile seeing it, and it manages to fight off a little of the melancholy.

“Yeah, well just listen to Krakka. He knows what he’s talking about.” I take a step away now, pointing down at her. “I mean it, that’s it for you for now. I’m taking the lead from here on. Do as you’re told.”

That has her frowning deeper, but she don’t say anything, so I guess she’s relenting. Not that she’s got much choice right now, given she’s pretty out of it. So I turn away and cast about for a moment, a little lost for what to do now. Then I see Lady Naru crouching down beside Yeslee on the other side of the rom, and remember what happened in the middle of the fight. Shit …

Taking a deep breath, I walk over, moving slower and more wary now, as if scared I might not be entirely welcome right now. I got no reason to think that, no matter how she might act around me a lot o’ the time Yeslee’s my friend, I know she cares about me as much as I do her, and I’m worried about her right now. But that was my old friend who damn near killed her, or whatever it was he did, so I wouldn’t really blame her if she did give me a little projected grief for it too.

I don’t really get a good look at how bad she got hurt until I’m close, stepping round behind Lady Naru to find the Fir Bolg sat up with her back propped against the wall, her legs splayed while her hands are limp in her lap. There’s a whole lot of blood on her chest, but after a moment looking I see there’s no actual wounds there at least, finally working out it must’ve just come from an even worse nosebleed than the one Shay’s just now getting over. Ain’t just her nose, either, there’s plenty more caked and crusting on her lips and chin like she just coughed it up, and even thinner tracks running down from the corners of her eyes, and her ears. Her head’s lolling a bit, but as I approach she at least makes an effort to raise it enough to watch me, and I can see now just how badly bloodshot her eyes are. She’s paler than I ever seen her before, and there’s a waxiness to her skin I really don’t like. Fuck, she’s hurt real bad. If he wasn’t so busy already I’d be tempted to tell Krakka to break off from what he’s doing to give her a boost.

“Shit …” I barely breathe as I stop a little short of ‘em, reaching up to anxiously brush my paws up and back through my mane, too late remembering how filthy they still are right now with my dead friend’s blood.

“That bad … is it?” Yeslee manages to grunt out, almost more of a coughing splutter than any real speech.

Honestly, I’m sorely tempted to lie, but I can’t find the words to do it. In the end I just nibble on my lip for a beat, looking to Lady Naru, who’s looking a deal more anxious than I’m used to with her, and have to sigh deep before finally just answering honestly. “It ain’t good. Between you, an’ Shay, and …”

Oh … shit … now I remember. Fuck … I get real cold now. In the heat o’ the moment, and then everything after, I completely forgot about what happened to Brung. I immediately take a step back, unable to help the grimace crossing my face now as I start heading for the doorway and the stairs. “Shit … I’m sorry.” I turn to Lady Naru. “Can you … um … just keep an eye on her, and Shay, and … I dunno, maybe they need to go back to the temple?”

She’s just frowning deeper than ever as she watches me back up now. “Well yes, of course, that would surely be best, but I don’t understand. What –”

“That’s great. Please, do that. I gotta go, deal with the rest o’ this mess …” I turn away in a rush and almost trip over my feet in my haste to start hustling my way back downstairs. I’m already hating myself for completely blanking on that little detail, I was so caught up in feeling sorry for myself, and then worrying about my friends …

I’m most o’ the way down when I hear someone calling out behind me, asking me to wait up, and I almost just ignore them, I’m committed to my path now. But when I recognise the voice it slows me, so I stop a step or two short of the bottom, just before the turn, looking back up even though I’m still tense and worked up.

Zuldrad’s following me down, but while he’s usually as agile as me he’s descending at a much more careful, sedate pace this time, clearly mindful of his still fuzzy head. “Thanks.” he breathes when he sees me waiting, but it’s through somewhat gritted teeth.

“For Thorin’s sake … Zul, what are you doing? Just … sit down or something. Go back up, I dunno … go see Krakka. Get your head seen to.”

“Bugger that. I had worse’n this before an’ just shook it off.” He still grunts as he quickens his pace a little, but keeps stepping with care to join me. “You need help. Your friend needs help. So I’m sticking with you.”

“After what … what just happened, I don’t …” I falter, and he frowns a little deeper as he looks me over. He’s a step up from me so we’re essentially the same height right now, so he can look me direct in the face.

Reaching out, he lays his hand on my shoulder and gives it a fond squeeze. “Gran’s dead, sure, but you didn’t have a choice. Soon as we found out it was him we knew it was prob’ly gonna end like this. I’m just sorry it had to be you. But it means I gotta watch your back a little closer. Rattled or not.”

Not quite sure what to say to that, I just look him over instead, taking a deep breath as I do. He may still seem a little shaky, but his eyes are clear enough now I’m looking, and his grip feels firm enough. So I let the breath out in a low sigh and nod. “Shit … okay. Sure. Glad to have you, mate. Just like old times.”

Grinning a little rueful, he just reaches out with the other hand now and pulls me into a hug. I don’t resist him for a second, likely I need it right now. So I just give in for a few moments, letting my cheek settling into his shoulder, and maybe I purr a little as he gives my back a gentle rub. Then when I finally start to push him off again he lets me go quick enough.

“So what are we doing, then?” he asks as he steps down after me while I turn and start round the corner to take the last few steps onto the ground floor.

“Gotta find Brung. After Gran chucked him out the window –”

“Alive.” comes the low, raspy little growl alarmingly close by and I almost stumble on the spot when I look down to find the goblin in question stood right in front o’ me, staring up with that same unflinchingly baleful yellow glare. He’s dusty but, from the look of it, otherwise largely unscathed, I don’t even see any more blood on him that I would’ve expected from before while he was still in the fight, drawn from others. “Not happy about treatment, mind. Fucking orc. Want him dead.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” Zul sighs behind me as he starts to step round. “Wish granted, I guess. Art finished the job for you started.”

Brung’s bright eyes flicker back to me in an instant, and once again his unblinking attention is almost enough to make my skin crawl. I like the goblin, I can’t help it, his unerring loyalty is one o’ the most admirable virtues I ever seen, but he still creeps me out sometimes. “Killed him? You?”

“Uh … yeah.” I have to fight the urge to grimace as I start to get uncomfortable with the reminder. “Shay already got the ball rolling cutting his hand off, but … yeah. I finished him off.”

“She all right?” he asks, matter-of-fact as everything else. If he’s genuinely concerned it don’t look any different. He’s a lot like Big Man in that.

“Took a hit, but she’s shaking it off. Krakka’s helping. Yes got hurt too, but he’ll get to her soon as. They’re both headed back to the temple, anyway.”

“Smart.” He doesn’t elaborate, and it don’t surprise me any.

Nodding, I take a breath and look round the room, taking in the fifteen or so survivors who are all conspicuously staying in their seats. Some of ‘em are watching us now, but others are taking great care to keep their heads down and watch the floor instead. Not wanting to catch any undue attention. Dumoli’s planted himself on a chair too, sitting forward as he leans into the shaft of his downturned hammer, but he’s watching me, wary, but in a different way. Likely he just overheard what I had to do and is processing what that actually means.

Driver 8 ain’t moved since we went up, still crouched low just inside the archway into the other room, but I’m sure he’s looking my way too now, in his own unique way. Meanwhile he’s undoubtedly the main reason none o’ this lot have dared move since.

Well, now that shit’s done with … I take another breath and hold it as I drop off the last step and step past Brung, looking these folk over with a more critical eye now. Mindful that while some of ‘em likely do work for Jammund, there’ll be others who were just patrons, and therefore mere bystanders in this. Innocent or not, I don’t feel great about keeping them here, but until we know who’s who …

Thing is, we only really need one or two, three at most. Preferably those who actually know what’s going on in Jammund’s operation, beyond just the usual muscle shit. So as I move across the floor I look each one over closely, taking in not only their general appearance, but also their demeanour, their mood. Most of all, their eye-contact, or conspicuous lack of it.

Finally I turn to look at Driver 8 for a moment, knowing he’ll be regarding me directly too. This time I take a moment to give my paws a little wipe across the front of my leathers before reaching up to brush ‘em back through my mane, taking another breath as I turn away again and scan the room one more time. “Okay … Big Man, you with me?”

“Of course, Art. What do you require?”

“Any o’ this lot still armed?” I take note of the handful I’m actually watching while I say this, and I see one in particular look up at this, frowning a little. An older woman, human, a little portly but looking like it’s as much muscle as fat, and there’s a particularly weathered edge to her features, like she’s spent significant time at sea. Sat down like she is, I can’t tell how tall she is, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s close to Kesla’s size. Her features are strong, not exactly conventionally attractive but striking still, her jaw heavy and her nose hooked, while her eyes are deep set. There’s a fierce intelligence to ‘em as she looks me over, a particularly striking blue-green, like the sea itself. She’s got her greying sandy-coloured hair bound into a short plait hanging over her shoulder, and she’s dressed as much like an old sailor as any o’ the others I marked as most likely Jammund’s folk.

“Three. Two of them have a knife each still hidden in their boots. The one you are regarding now, however, seems to have two stilettos secreted in her bracers. I believe it is of a fashion with a prowler like yourself.”

Looking a little closer now, I take note of the now empty scabbard hanging from her belt, most likely for the somewhat worn but well-made longsword close to my feet. Another for a substantial knife I can’t find in the mix of discarded weapons lying on the floor amongst the bodies. Now I’m looking I can see most o’ the scars she wears on her face and neck are clearly from fighting rather’n just a perilous seafaring life. Oh yeah, this one’s definitely a merc rather’n just a regular merchantman like some o’ this lot must be.

Letting a thin hunter’s smile touch my lips, I keep my eyes on her as I take a step back. “Point the other two out for me, would you?”

Very slowly, likely because he’s as much mindful of the amount of room he’s actually got to work with as all the people still in here with him, I hear Driver 8 start to move forward behind me, taking great care as he approaches. I hold my ground as I feel him getting real close to my back, likely moving almost entirely on all-fours like the ogre he’s modelled after, and when I just see his right hand thump down on the floor right beside me through the corner of my eye I have to fight the urge to jump. Then I see his other arm hover right over my head, swinging quickly to the left as he extends his finger to point towards the cluster closest to Dumoli. “That one.”

The first one he indicates is a skinny, weaselly human male who’s already turning to regard me with a sharp, narrowed eye. Just the one, I quickly notice, since the other one’s almost carved right out of his head by a particularly nasty puckered scar that’s mars almost half of his face, nothing but an empty socket left behind. His hair’s greasy and lanky where it falls down the back of his neck, while it’s real thin on top, and the rest of his narrow, sallow face is scruffy with salt-and-pepper stubble. He’s dressed in casual leathers and a shabby, stained old shirt like the other one, but aside from the empty scabbard at his hip I don’t see anything else that might indicate he’s armed. Except maybe his twitchy hands, working restlessly in his lap as he eyes me with open hostility.

“And that one.” Now Big Man points out one o’ the ones in front of the broken windows, definitely the youngest of the group, a half-orc male who’s nursing his shoulder while there’s a big gash just starting to scab over on his forehead. He’s sat back in the corner on one o’ the benches, looking like he’s propped up mostly cuz he’s having trouble staying awake now, and he don’t look very dangerous now I’m checking him over. But I could be mistaken …

“Right …” I mutter under my breath, stepping forward again as I cast one more glance about the room, taking in the rest. Honestly, three prisoners are probably enough to work with, and the two older ones definitely look promising. “Yeah, all right … the rest o’ you can clear out, then. Just get lost. We don’t need to detain you anymore.”

Some of ‘em just look at each other, muttering amongst themselves as they consider what I’m saying, like they’re unconvinced I really mean it, but others are already scrambling up and heading my way, making for the exit now Driver 8’s made a little space. “Not you three, though.” I add as the woman sits forward now like she intends to get up too, and she settles back while giving me a harsh glare.

Then the ratty man plants his hands on the tabletop in front of him and starts to push himself up too as he mutters: “Fuck this. I’m off too. You got no right to –”

Making sure I make it seem as casually offhanded as possible, I flick one of my special knives from its sheath and toss it at him, and he freezes on the spot, his words choking off with a shocked squeak as it thumps home. Digging itself a good two inches into the wood of the table, barely a hair’s breadth short of cutting the webbing between two of his fingers. Then, to make my point more final, I concentrate on the knife and think about pulling it back, and it don’t stick for a second as it plucks itself free and whistles back into my hand smarter’n a cracking whip. I catch it and have it sheathed again in a single, fluid gesture, and after another beat I’ve folded my arms again as I give him a sharp look.

He don’t say a word, just sits down again and slumps back against the wall on his bench, now very much avoiding further eye contact. Looking pale as a dead fish.

I turn back to the woman now as the rest o’ the room empties out, leaving just the three of ‘em in here with the rest of us. Finally Big Man moves away from behind me, instead shunting one o’ the tables aside so he can settle down into another crouch right by the windows, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he bends forward. Now I see Krakka starting to emerge from the bottom of the stairs, moving like he’s plodding on heavy feet now, I notice, lugging his hammer like it’s a burden again, which makes me uncomfortable to see. I guess they’re all done up there with whatever’s left, likely Lady Naru’s already whisked Shay and Yes back to the temple for help. I’m a moment longer realising he’s also toting my sword and knife too, gripped together in his other hand.

“She coming back?” I ask him now as he approaches, looking over the three who’ve remained, seeming to pay particular attention to the wounded half-orc. Much like I would’ve expected him to.

“Momentarily, yes.” he nods back now, seeming to catch my drift quick enough, then he hands my weapons back. “I thought you might want these back. I take it these are … Jammund’s people?”

“Reckon it’s a safe guess, yeah.” I turn back to the woman again as I give the knife two quick swipes across my thigh to clean the blade enough I can sheathe it again, then start fishing about in the pouch for one of my spare rags. “I’d be much obliged if you could just confirm that little fact for me.”

She looks right back at me for a long beat, licking her lips with a deep frown before turning to inspect the rest of our group. Her attention particularly lingers on Dumoli, I notice. “Ain’t much point in denying it now, is there?” she rasps in a voice like grinding glass “Be all you get outta me, mind.”

“Oh, I dunno about that.” I start wiping my sword’s blade with the rag, being mindful that I keep my steel real sharp, but keeping my eyes fixed on hers while I do it, and I make my smile as menacing as possible. “There’s plenty o’ ways that can change, I’m sure.”

With a puff o’ displaced air, Lady Naru’s suddenly right there in the middle of the room, just three feet to my left. I couldn’t have timed it better if I’d been expecting it, sometimes life just hands you these little gems. Certainly the woman’s eyes shoot to her before returning to me, and she looks more uneasy now. The implication of both my drawn sword and the return of one of our remaining mages clearly sinking in now to add weight to my words. This time when she licks her lips it’s a much more nervous gesture.

“Shit …” she hisses under her breath, sagging the rest o’ the way into her own chair, and I start to feel a little better about this whole mess. Might be we finally got a chance at getting Gael back again ...

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #the creeping bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 4 chapter 14 #original fiction #fantasy fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

0 notes

seancekitsch · 3 years

Note

anything with cahir unload me with that post capture cahir!!!!!

Or maybe one with jaskier bc I don't see a lot of him where the reader is v protective of him because they've seen the pain he's gone through??? Idk so many thoughts

did i picture myself and my replica scottish sword from the 1700s? maybe. shhhhh

“Don’t you touch him!” You shout, sword drawn as you step in front of Jaskier. The man in front of you raises his hands, unarmed, in surrender, and leaves, but not before getting his last word in.

“Try to leave your attack dog at home next time, Jaskier,” he sneers, and you have to fight back the urge to lunge at him. How dare anyone speak to Jaskier that way? The bard is sweet, gentle, and the funniest person you know. He doesn’t even carry a sword, which makes him a rare breed on the continent.

“Darling?” Jaskier pipes up, making you turn and sheath your sword again. Your dear friend looks sheepish, the cat that caught the canary.

“Yes, Jask?” you ask innocently, as if you hadn’t just threatened to kill for him.

“In all honesty, he was right to be so angry. I did sleep with his wife the last time we were around these parts.”

The last time…? Four years ago? That man can really hold a grudge, you think.

“He still shouldn’t have threatened you,” you reply cooly, settling back down to the bar stool you were previously sitting in. You motion to the bartender for another round and he nods.

You don’t meet his eyes as he moves to sit next to you, not until his hand wraps around your shoulder and he physically turns you towards him. The look in his eyes is one of confusion.

“But why protect me?” he asks, as if it isn’t obvious, “Why go out of your way to keep me safe?”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Isn’t it clear, Jask?” you ask, and he shakes his head no.

“It’s true, you’re a bit of rake, and you do have a talent for pissing people off…”

“Well, thanks for that!” he interrupts.

“But—! But, Jaskier you’re kind, you’re loyal, devoted, downright sweet when you want to be. I don’t see many people as good as you. You’ve been hurt unfairly, and I won’t let it happen while you and I stick together.”

A confession without actually saying it.

“Oh,” he says. It clicks.

“Oh!” he says again, nodding.

The bartender unceremoniously slams two mugs of lager between the two of you. He grabs his by the handle, raises it for cheers.

“To sticking together then, darling?”

He nudges your thigh with his knee. You raise your mug to his.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

Your mugs clank together, beer spilling out onto both of your hands at the impact. You lift the mug to your lips, and Jaskier winks at you.

#jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #jaskier fic

122 notes · View notes

deepest-dope · 2 years

Text

OCs as Companions - Cave Mann Fallout New Vegas

Basic info:

Race*: Human

Gender*: Male

Affiliation: None but likes the Kings, the Great Khans and the Followers of the Apocalypse

Role: Weird Ex-Raider mom friend or guy who carries a swiss army knife, lighter and first aid kit at all times

Location: Nipton on a cross on first meeting, squatting in the Bison Steve hotel if dismissed but not sent to the lucky 38

Base SPECIAL: S 8 P 1 E 9 C 3 I 8 A 6 L1

Tagged skills: Medicine Survival Unarmed

Perks: Cannibal, Ghastly Scavenger

The Courier will meet Cave at Nipton, angrily screaming and cursing out legionaries, he’s been crucified and you have to cut him down and help him get his weapons out of a stash just outside of town. With a couple speech checks he’ll share some stuff from his stash with you, and with no speech required he’ll help you kill Vulpes and his dogs with his grenade rifle. After that he’s basically ready to go!

Companion Perk: Pack Animal, Cave is used to being the reliable one out of any group he runs with, and he’s more then willing to help you out. Rank 1 you can give him the items needed for any recipe and he’ll make them for you at any campfire. Rank 2 all consumables are 20% stronger while he’s with you. Rank 3 Crafting items while he’s with you will give you extra items. Rank 4 Talking to him with certain dialogue options now let you use him to craft stuff like food, chems, and healing items.

Cornered Animal: If the player has Cannibal or Ghastly Scavenger choosing certain dialogue options will lead him to teach you about “soft spots” on bodies you can attack to bring your opponent down easier when you’re in a hard spot. It’s An Unarmed technique that you can use at low health or when crippled. The attack is rushing forward to bite your enemy’s throat.

Companion Comments:

Use Melee: “Sure, one sec, gotta tape my hands.”/”I can and do hold my own with nothing but hand to hand, if you’re worried about that”

Use Ranged: “Alrighty then just be careful about getting too close to any grenades yeah?”/”Uh should we get your ears checked? I have been blasting them.”

Open inventory: “Don’t worry man I’m used to being Designated Pack Brahmin”[giving him any chem or sugary thing]”You’re a real sweetheart you know that? wait I CAN have this right?”[giving him fixer, cigarettes or alcohol] “......uh thanks...I’m not ungrateful but... uhh... yknow never mind really thank you”

Overburdened: “Buddy I don’t think I’ve got room in my bag or in my pockets to put anything else in unless you’re suggesting we shove it somewhere sun don’t shine”

Stay close: “What? Cold? I’d give you my coat but all my craps in it”

Keep distance: “Aight, just watch you’re ass so I don’t end up blowing your limbs off on accident”

Be Passive: “I’m gentle as a bighorner lamb”

Be Aggressive: “Kay, stay out of the blast radius if you don’t like gore”

Wait here: “Wait? For how long? HEY! FOR HOW LONG?!?!”

Follow me: “Finally! what were you even doing?!”

Sneaking: “Good old fashioned ambush, alright!”

“Let’s travel together”: “Sure, don’t got anything better to do yet”

“Let’s travel together” (already have a companion): “Not that I’m saying you got bad taste in friends but your pal doesn’t seem like the kinda person I like to take trips with, understand?”

Leaving companion at the Lucky 38: “Wait around in an air conditioned room for an undetermined length of time? Hell yeah, go ahead and take your sweet time coming back for me too”

“I wanted to ask you some questions”: “Bout what?”

“Tell me about yourself”: “I...don’t really LIKE talking about myself though...”[speech check] “Aw fine I guess it couldn’t hurt, I was born in a vault out east but I don’t really remember much from it, got kidnapped age 6 by legion and enslaved, escaped legion slavery with one of the other slaves, had a shit time on the run till we met up with his family who turned out to be Jackals that didn’t like me much, got kicked out by the old man’s son eventually, tooled around for a while until I got arrested, and then escaped with the powder gangers to nipton and now I’m here with you”

“What do you think of the NCR?”: “They act like they’re better then the legion but they aren’t, just called slavery a different name, NCRCF was as much a hellhole as the Slave camp I grew up in”

“What do you think of the Legion?”: “I think they’re a bunch of stupid evil cunts who’ve gotten way too lucky so far and are due for an ass kicking. If I could crush Little Caesar and his roman themed raider gang out of existence I fucking would. I grew up in one of their slave camps and the shit they did to me there isn’t something I can ever forgive”

“What do you think of Mister House?”: “That cunt who kicked the Khans outta Vegas? He needs to get out more, specifically pull his head out of his ass, this ain’t the old world and it won’t ever be, playing dressup with the gangs that bent the knee isn’t making anything better for anyone”

“What do you know about Benny?”: “I think he’s one of the casino owners in New Vegas but thats about it”

“What do you know about the platinum chip?”: “Besides what you’ve told me? Sweet fuck all.”

Death: Before his personal quest “...Finally”/After “No no no no not now not after I-”

Trivia and additional information: Yeah I unfortunately don’t have anything I can even try to draw him with so putting a description of him here: He’s a 5′3 albino dude in raider badlands armor with a real loose trenchcoat over it and a prewar bonnet on his head to keep the sun off, and though it wouldn’t show up in game he has sharp ass teeth, I’m talking double canines here. He has anisocoria which along with the albinism makes him sensitive to light. He also has frequent nosebleeds from a multitude of problems such as being dry as the mojave itself because he does not drink enough water in the desert, eating way too much sugar on the rare occasion he does eat of his own volition, high blood pressure from stress, and the occasional punch to the face when he gets into a fight.

You may have noticed the cannibalism up there and yeah he has eaten people before but it isn’t something he likes doing, he was raised for the latter part of his childhood by a hardcore jackal survivalist though so his opinion is essentially “you gotta eat and if it’s all you have then don’t waste it” he wouldn’t risk kuru if he had any other options but a childhood of malnutrition and food insecurity has given him some impulse control problems to put it politely. If you imply do it because you like eating it you will fail the dialogue that gets him to teach you Cornered Animal. He thinks cook-cook is fucked up in general but is especially insane for cooking people when he has other options.

Cannibalism aside he has some problems with disordered eating and general lack of appetite. He’s so used to barely eating he just hardly ever notices hunger at this point. He also has a somewhat hard time eating regular meat but he can’t really afford to be picky. He tries to remember to keep himself fed to prevent,, unfortunate accidents from happening though hes not too good at it.

He’s an actually damn good cook when he’s cooking for other people though, which is one of the things he used to do for his old gang along with making chems and patching people up when needed. He likes the job too! He loves collecting recipes he can feed other people later, I like to think there’d be a dialogue option to give him your bloatfly slider recipe since the player seems to be the only one who makes those in game and in return he gives you his recipe for desert stirfry. Also stealing Cook-cooks fiends stew recipe in his quest.

Unmarked Quest: Straighten up and Fly Right: Help or hinder Cave’s attempts to quit chems by putting any chems available or fixer and optionally bubblegum into his inventory. The fixer being for withdrawal symptoms and bubblegum to help him build up a new habit to replace chems with.

Personal Quest: Why don’t you do right?

Quest Triggers: Walking into Fiend territory, specifically Driver Nephi and Violet’s areas or taking Three card bounty from Major Dhatri. Cave will initiate dialogue and tell the courier that he has friends in the fiends who joined after he got arrested and sent to NCRCF and his chapter of the Jackals completely fell apart. He’ll have an extra line asking you to try and spare Nephi and Violet if you took Three card bounty.

Quest Description: He’ll tell you about how for a brief time after the death of the old man the leader of their chapter of the Jackals tried to kill him, causing a split in the gang and ending in Cave briefly becoming leader of it. In this time he met and befriended escaped mormon Nephi and one of the few surviving free hangdog tribe members Violet, allowing them to join his gang, that they weren’t originally fiends and probably only joined after his incarceration for their own safety. He’s sure if you just get them away from cook-cook and motor-runner they’ll be able to recover! (like him if you did his unmarked quest)

You can either let him talk to them both, helping him figure out what to say to convince them to leave the fiends and get help, or talk to them yourself with some high speech or medicine checks, and sending them to either the mormon fort or the great khans depending on how hard you want to press for getting violet to quit chems or Nephi to join a faction. Maybe even get Dhatri to get their bounties taken down.

Violet has the easier speech checks, being quickly convinced to abandon the fiends for her dogs safety, or medicine checks to convince her that psycho is affecting her ability to care for her dogs. The have Cave talk to her dialogue is essentially [Speech 50 Just tell her you care about her dumbass]. She can also be convinced along with Nephi to help you deal with Cook-cook and Motor-runner to still get some rewards off Dhatri. After this you can send her and her dogs to one of 3 locations after talking to one of the leaders, The Thorn to train dogs for Red Lucy, Red Rock Canyon to join the Great Khans, or the old mormon fort with Julie to guard the place.

Nephi is the harder to convince of the two, requiring higher speech checks to convince him of your good intentions. He’s just paranoid as shit about getting sucked into another cult after leaving mormonism. you need high as shit medicine or speech to get him to go to the followers or the great khans, though the check for getting him to help you fight cook-cook and motor-runner is comparatively low. The Cave option is actually easier here as Nephi already trusts him. I imagine you’d need 75 in medicine to convince him to get therapy to you know recover from leaving a cult. It’d take 80 speech to get him to join the Great Khans as you need to convince him its nothing like a cult. The lowest check is probably the one that gets him to go to the Thorn where he’d become champion fighter.

After get them to leave the fiends and optionally help you kill Cook-cook and motor runner after theyre dead you can do some optional things, like if queenie and Motor-runners dogs survive the fights you can also send them to any of the options you sent Violet, her dogs and Nephi to, with dialogue heavily implying you just lead the animals into the fort/camp/underground fighting arena handed the leads to someone and left without explaining anything.

Outcomes: Obviously you fail the quest if you kill either violet or nephi and lose Cave as a follower but if you got them to leave the fiends and go somewhere else they’ll be where you sent them, wearing wastelend wanderer outfits if in the fort or khan armor in red rock, keeping the fiend outfits if in the thorn. BoneGnash, Ghashbone and Queenie will also be seen in these places if you sent them there.

Endings

He hates basically everything but Independent Vegas lol. I’ve been writing all day so just going to give short summaries instead of trying to write anything that sounds like it could be read aloud by Ron Pearlman

NCR endings: If you don’t help him quit chems or do his personal quest and kill his friends he gets deeper into chems before eventually committing suicide by NCR soldiers. If you help him with his chem problem but don’t do his personal quest or kill Nephi and Violet he dies getting shot down trying to convince them to leave the fiends. If you do both his unmarked and personal quests and sent them to the followers he ends up joining them and getting an actual practicing medical license before getting arrested along with Nephi and Violet when the Followers are pushed out of Vegas. If Nephi and Violet joined the Khans he goes with them to Idaho. For the Thorn they just stay there laying low, fighting in matches waiting for the NCR to find them.

Caesar’s Legion endings: No matter what you did for him before he tries to kill you if you let the Legion take vegas

House endings: If you don’t do either of his quests he joins the fiends attack on Camp Mccarran and dies fighting a securitron. If you help him but not his friends he goes to Freeside after they die to securitrons alongside the Kings. If you help him and his friends out and sent them to the fort he becomes a legit doctor and doesn’t get arrested by the NCR though he isn’t quite happy under House’s rule. If with the Great Khans he either goes with them for their last stand at the Dam or follows them to Wyoming, living a decently happy life where he doesn’t have to deal with house running things. In the Thorn he becomes a Champion fighter alongside Nephi eventually taking over with Violet when she expresses dissatisfaction with how Red Lucy treats her dogs

Independent Vegas: Doing neither of his quests causes him to follow Violet and Nephi there taking over the camp even if Motor-runner is dead, becoming their designated chem guy before eventually dieing of an overdose. If he successfully quits chems but his personal quest isn’t done he ends up joining the Kings, spending most of his free time outside of that trying to get Violet and Nephi to come to freeside to. Both quests complete and his friends are at the Thorn you get the same ending as House basically. If they’re with the followers he ends up dragging Nephi and Violet through a crash course on medicine and getting them to help the Followers with him and is unbothered by the influx of patients mostly happy neither the NCR or Legion won. He still leaves with the Khans if thats where Nephi and Violet are.

#Fallout new vegas #courier six oc #oc companion meme #fallout

27 notes · View notes

pirate-au · 3 years

Text

A Pirate's Life for a Prince (Part 6)

Summary: Roman was a dashing Captain, content with his exciting life out at sea, diving head first into adventure both on and off land. He wouldn't give up his life for anything, and yet he found himself...lacking something. He was never sure what.

When he meets Virgil, a seemingly common traveler in an old tavern, that lacking feeling in his chest goes away for the first time in a long while. So surely there's no harm in offering the stranger and his friend a ride, right?

Notes: Thank you again to @cheshirevalentine for helping with editing and the descriptions of sword fighting, They've got a side blog for this au, go check out @actorau

TW: a little blood and injury and really gay pining

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Virgil had no idea what he was supposed to be doing.

Roman was frowning at him, watching Virgil with scrutinizing eyes before sheathing his own sword at his side.

“Have you never held a sword before?” he asked, his hands on his hips. “It’s like you’re afraid of it.”

Virgil huffed, lowering the sword that was steadily becoming embarrassingly heavy to his side, cheeks burning red with shame under Roman's judgment. “I don’t know what you think I was doing in that palace, but it wasn’t sword fighting.”

“But I thought you were raised as a prince.”

Virgil had asked before, once or twice when he was much younger, but it had been shut down almost immediately, and the request had never even made it to his Uncle. He would never be the dashing Prince who charged into battle, brandishing a sword like it was nothing. That wasn’t the kind of prince they wanted him to be.

“Whatever.” Virgil would really rather not discuss this right now, especially not here. “Why are we even doing this?”

“Because you have to learn to defend yourself,” Roman said simply, moving around Virgil to check his stance. “I won’t always be here to save the day, you know. Now, lift your sword again. I’ll fix your hold.”

Roman was behind him, making Virgil’s shoulders tense instinctively, but he forced himself to relax and do what he was told.

“Come on,” Roman urged as Virgil lifted the sword. “I promise this will help you feel more secure.”

Virgil rolled his eyes when Roman moved back around, mostly to cover up how uneasy and inadequate he felt. He wasn't exactly excited to show off how weak he was to a pirate Captain who had already seen him cry twice.

“Running away has worked out pretty well so far,” Virgil said, but kept the sword lifted all the same. “I’m not gonna be any good at this.”

“You don't know that," Roman said quietly, moving beside Virgil. He moved to help him hold the sword and hesitated, awkwardly maneuvering his hands as if he wasn't sure how to place them around Virgil's. “Uh… my apologies. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Virgil only hesitated a second, forcibly shoving down the panic rising against his will. It was just Roman, and Roman had made it clear that he wouldn’t hurt him. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Alright then.” Roman moved slowly, clearly trying not to spook Virgil, placing himself behind the prince once again and gently wrapping his warm hands around Virgil’s own. The weight of the sword lifted considerably with his help. “The way I was taught was rather… untraditional. It’s easier to teach like this.”

Virgil nodded, trying to focus on keeping his breathing steady. “So… where did you learn to sword fight?”

“My brother and I learned a long time ago,” Roman said, curt in the way that told Virgil the Captain would prefer to discuss anything else. “Anyways. I’ll teach you to block and parry first.”

Virgil wanted to apologize for prying, but it was already hard enough to form words with the feeling of Roman’s hands encasing his own, his chest rising and falling against Virgil’s back. He had the sudden, ridiculous urge to close his eyes and lean back against the steady warmth.

“Uh, ok,” he said instead, forcing himself to focus. “Just… be patient with me I guess. I’m kind of a slow learner, so… sorry in advance.”

“Nonsense,” the Captain chided. “You’ll do fine.”

Virgil nodded, his breathing still a bit uneven as he let Roman move his hands to the Prince’s wrists. He guided his arms, first to slowly swing up to block at his left shoulder, and then down.

"When you block, you want to make sure your assailant isn't pushing you back,” he said. “On a ship, that could be the difference between being cast overboard or staying dry." He dropped a hand to pat Virgil's left hip. "It's best to step forward after that, preferably with your non-dominant leg. It will give you a stable base to attack on, so make sure your weight is centered."

Virgil was doing his absolute best to listen to what Roman was saying, but to be fair he was pretty sure he was going to suck at this whether he could comprehend the instructions or not.

But Roman was still holding his hand, warm and strong, and when the Captain moved to touch his hip Virgil could only respond with a slightly panicked, "Okay."

“To attack,” Roman continued, his voice a gentle murmur in Virgil’s ear. “Take another step with your other leg and swing forward-” He stepped with Virgil, guiding their arms to swing at their invisible assailant. "Your sword is an extension of your arm. You don't want to overextend and throw yourself off balance, that will give your opponent a chance to swing at you. Now, back-” He stepped back, gently pulling Virgil with him. "Block, forward, attack, back."

Virgil couldn’t breathe, something he was unfortunately used to, but for once it didn’t feel like a bad thing.

The panic wasn't all consuming and cold, it was warm and it made him feel lightheaded and distant. Roman was up against him, guiding his movements, and although he knew he probably looked absolutely pathetic holding the sword, in the moment it felt like he could do anything.

Other than Patton, no one had ever been so gentle with him. It had been so long since he’d been touched without the intention to hurt.

“Once more,” Roman instructed. “Block, forward, attack, back. Look at you! You’re doing amazing already.”

Virgil’s face grew hot, chest light at the praise. It took him a moment to find his voice, choked and unsteady. “I… thank you.”

“Now we pick up the pace,” Roman said, slowly starting to increase their speed. “You’re doing so well. Just a bit faster now and then I’ll let you try it on your own.”

After a moment of the back and forth, the two almost dancing in the afternoon sun, Virgil closed his eyes for just a second, basking in the warm glow, the feeling of Roman’s hands over his, content and safe.

“Now,” Roman said softly. “Can you show me?”

Virgil’s eyes snapped open, reality slamming back into him as Roman stepped away and the sword momentarily wobbled in the air, the Prince struggling to keep it upright by himself.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He hesitated, face burning for an entirely new reason this time. God, he was so stupid. He could vaguely recall the movements, but… he'd just end up looking like an idiot if he tried it by himself. "Sorry, uh… could you let me watch you first? Sorry I'm just… kind of slow sometimes."

“You’re not slow,” Roman assured, sending Virgil a patient smile. “Some people are visual learners, it's only a matter of preference. I'm a kinesthetic learner, so I have to do it, rather than see it."

Virgil shrugged, still not fully convinced he wasn’t just stupid. “I guess.”

Roman unsheathed his own practice sword and lifted it, turning so he was parallel to where Virgil was standing, and began the back and forth.

“Block, forward, attack, back,” he said, repeating the motions twice, faster the second time. "Ideally, a fight isn't so tense and scripted. You have to learn to think on your feet. And always, always play dirty. A fair fight is sure to get you killed." He lowered his sword, facing Virgil with a smile. "Ready?"

Slightly stunned by how patient Roman was, Virgil nodded and took a shaky breath. The Captain’s patience was bound to run out soon if he didn’t hurry up and get this right.

“I’m ready.”

He began to copy Roman’s movements- block, forward, attack, back. He knew it looked clumsy and ridiculous, and not even close to what Roman was expecting. The sword still felt heavy and foreign in his hands, and he turned sheepishly to the Captain when he was finished, fully prepared to apologize for doing so poorly.

But Roman was smiling at him, wide and genuine. He sheathed his own sword again, placing his hands on his hips.

“You learn quickly!” he praised. “This particular style requires a lot of physical conditioning. Your abdomen, back, wrists, and hands all need conditioning if you're to properly hold your sword. Though, I'm sure we have a rapier around here somewhere that may better suit you."

Virgil furrowed his brow. “A rapier?”

“Something smaller,” Roman explained, eyes softening. “It might be a bit easier for you. Logan prefers lighter weapons, as well.”

“Oh,” Virgil said, arms already growing sore from the strain of the sword. “Maybe.”

“We’ll save that for later,” Roman said. “For now, I need you to take the rhythm you just learned, and I need you to forget it. Falling into a rhythm can mean spacing out, and without the utmost concentration, you're dead. Now! Make like you're going to attack me.”

Roman didn’t move, didn't even unsheathe his sword, and Virgil frowned when he just stood there, waiting expectantly.

“Uh… okay?” He cautiously positioned the sword again and pointed it at Roman, the Captain still unarmed. “Like this?”

Roman nodded, looking Virgil over carefully. "Widen your stance. For you… I think it's best to stave on the balls of your feet. I believe I've been teaching you how I was taught, and since our body types are so different..."

He trailed off, smiling dropping into a small frown, eyebrows drawn together as he studied Virgil’s stance.

"Don't focus so hard on grounding yourself,” Roman instructed. He finally took his blade out with a flourish, spinning it once before he widened his stance, holding his sword at the ready. "Attack me.”

“I- what?” Virgil wasn’t sure if he was more worried about hurting Roman, or Roman hurting him. The latter seemed more likely. “I’m not gonna… I can’t just start stabbing at you!”

“You can,” Roman declared, shifting eagerly on the balls of his feet. “That’s how you learn. I won’t bite, I promise. Now, attack me! If you hesitate in battle, your foe won’t hesitate to take your life.”

“I guess,” Virgil relented. “Okay.”

He pushed down the lingering uneasiness, both from the sight of a much larger man holding a sword in front of him, and the off chance that he might actually end up hurting the Captain. Virgil moved forward, still hesitant, moving to attack slowly with no real intent to hit.

Roman was silent and still, holding his sword at the ready. He stepped forward to intercept Virgil's blade, twisting his own to knock the handle out of Virgil's grip. His sword clattered to the ground between them and Roman took a step back.

“You can do better,” the Captain said. “We both saw it. Again.”

Virgil reached down to pick up the weapon off the ground, keeping his eyes on Roman and the weapon in his hand. "What if I… accidentally stab you?"

“I’ve been stabbed before,” Roman said, clearly biting back a rising smile. “And you’re a fragile ex-prince who’s never held a sword before. I’m not worried.”

Virgil scowled, hoping his embarrassed flush wasn't as obvious as it felt. He still hesitated, this time with a bit more force. “Well, if you’ve gotten stabbed clearly you can’t be that good.”

“Right, and clearly you’re so talented.” Roman parried this time, stepping forward to smack the blade back. “Again. Harder, this time. You’re not going to hurt me, Virgil.”

"What if I do?" Virgil shot back, unable to stop a smile as he attacked again, still keeping his movements a bit slow. "What will people say if you get stabbed by someone who’s never even held a sword?"

"That I was viciously attacked by a vengeful Prince and did nothing wrong," Roman huffed, smacking the blade away once more. "Faster. I can keep up."

"You sure?" Virgil asked, more teasing than anything as he finally let himself relax just a bit, moving forward to attack once again.

“Move faster and we’ll see.”

The friendly banter took some of the tension away, Virgil smiling despite himself, feeling lighter by the second.

Virgil's movements were still definitely a bit more frantic than they needed to be, shoulders tensing as he moved his sword up, glancing hopefully up at Roman when he blocked the attack.

“Good!” Roman said, beaming. “Try not to panic, it’ll make you lose focus. Try again.”

Right. Try not to panic. That was easier said than done, especially when it came to Virgil, who could never seem to react any other way.

But the praise made him feel lighter than ever, and he smiled with a tiny nod before stepping back to try again.

“You’re doing good. Keep it up, don’t stop-” Roman parried and returned the next blow. “Pick up the speed. Push me back!”

Virgil managed to keep his movements a little less panicked this time, taking deep breaths like Patton had taught him and moved to attack again, faster this time as instructed.

"You sure you can keep up, Captain?" he teased with confidence he didn't feel in the slightest, smiling with his eyes still on the swords.

To his relief Roman’s smile only grew, the Captain taking another step forward to block again. “Eyes on me. Watch the weapons, but if you can see where I'm looking you can see where I'm attacking."

Virgil managed not to completely freak out when he blocked Roman’s next attack, still a bit more tense than he knew the Captain would have liked.

It was almost impossible to keep his eyes on Roman, cheeks growing hot whenever the Captain met his eyes, forcing himself to avert his gaze.

Virgil really did not need to be distracted by the blush spreading across his cheeks and the butterflies in his stomach as he moved to attack again.

Roman laughed, Virgil’s eyes lighting up when he nearly lowered his sword before he could block Virgil’s attack. “Come on handsome, eyes up here.”

“I’m trying!”

Roman took another step forward, swiping down towards Virgil’s leg. “When you can’t block, move!”

Virgil just barely managed to scramble out of the blade's way, and he was sure if Roman had moved any faster he would have lost a leg.

“Jesus!” His face was burning red now, both from the teasing and his own sloppy moves. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Roman's grin only grew as he took a step back, spinning his sword. "No, I'm trying to prepare you. Distractions happen. Now come on beautiful, one more time."

Oh, this was so not fair. Virgil’s blush depended, but he forced himself not to look away this time when he attacked. “Careful, or I’m actually going to stab you.”

“I’ve got the experience, darling,” Roman bragged, though he barely got his sword up in time to block Virgil’s strike. “You can’t hurt me.”

Virgil laughed, ignoring the way his cheeks burned at the nickname. He was going to die here. “Whatever you say, Captain.”

Virgil had no idea how long they went on like this for, time nothing but a distant blur, overshadowed by the warm excitement bubbling in his chest. His cheeks burned bright when he eventually managed to start meeting Roman’s eyes, the Captain sending him a teasing smile.

He should have noticed Roman had gotten distracted, should have realized he’d started moving just a bit slower than he had been when they first started.

But he didn’t, and Roman’s sword didn’t move up to block Virgil's next attack.

Roman gasped when the blade cut into his bicep, ripping through the cloth and drawing blood immediately, and the Captain quickly smacked the blade away with the end of his own sword.

"Holy shit!" Virgil dropped the sword without thinking, wincing when it clattered to the ground. He moved towards Roman, stopping in his tracks when he saw how much blood there was. "I… shit, Roman I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, I- I wasn't paying attention I'm so sorry!"

Roman looked back up at Virgil, raising an eyebrow at the Prince’s panic.

“I stand corrected,” he said, voice more awed than annoyed or angry. “It turns out you can stab me. Well done.”

“Well done?” Virgil echoed. “I hurt you!”

“It’s fine, Virgil. I’m barely bleeding. I wasn’t paying attention, this is just the consequence.” He looked back to his wound, lifting his arm to inspect it. “Would you mind grabbing Logan for me, though? He should be up on the bridge.”

Virgil nodded and scrambled back, carefully stepping over the swords, grateful for the excuse to get away. It at least meant Roman wasn't angry enough to lash out.

Unless that was Logan's job.

Virgil’s head was spinning and his hands were shaking, but he forced himself to keep going, rushing to the bridge.

The relief was almost crushing when he saw Patton, leaned up against the wall as he chatted with Logan, the two of them lost in quiet conversation. Virgil hadn’t been sure he could handle being alone with Logan, especially when it ran the risk of making him angry.

“Virgil?” Patton called, concern rising as soon as he saw the young Prince. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“I…” Virgil hesitated, eyes glued to Logan. “Roman he- he got hurt. With his sword, it… it was my fault and- and he asked for you. I’m… I’m sorry, I—”

Logan was already starting forward with a sigh, freezing when Virgil flinched back at the sudden movement, arms wrapped protectively around himself, eyes flying instinctively to Patton.

“I’m going to go check on Roman,” Logan explained, keeping his voice low. “I’m not angry with you. Whatever happened was clearly an accident.”

Virgil nodded, still a bit frantic and shaky, stepping aside to let Logan through. Patton moved to follow, pausing to place a gentle hand on Virgil’s hunched shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, the words meant just for the two of them. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Virgil shook his head, grateful beyond words Patton had decided to stay. “I’m fine I just… I- I didn’t mean to hurt him we were just—”

“I know, honey.” Pat squeezed his shoulder, sending a reassuring smile. “Nobody’s gonna hurt you, V. Come on, let’s go see if they need any help.”

They followed Logan back to the deck where Roman was waiting, letting the first mate make a quick stop for a first-aid kit, and Virgil averted his gaze when Roman straightened up at their arrival.

“My valiant knight in black armor,” the Captain greeted, offering his bloody arm to Logan. “Hello, Logan. How has your day been?”

Logan sighed, carefully taking a hold of the injured arm and lowering himself to a crouch. “What on earth are you and Virgil doing?”

“I was teaching Virgil how to use a sword!” Roman announced, and he was beaming when Virgil risked a glance up. “Isn’t he doing great already? I didn’t think he could hit me at all, but here we are!”

Roman rocked back and forth as he talked, gesturing with his free hand, and Logan tightened his grip. “Stay still, please.”

It was clearly a pointless venture, Virgil hadn’t seen Roman sit still once since he’d come aboard, but the Captain nodded and settled for tapping his hands against the floor. He winced when Logan touched the wound but didn't shy away, letting a hissing breath of pain out.

“He’s doing great,” Roman declared again, leaning back slightly to look at Virgil. “You are, you know. This is good progress.”

Virgil tensed, warily glancing between Roman and Logan despite the fact that neither of them seemed inclined to chew him out or make a move to strike him just yet. “I stabbed you. I literally stabbed you!”

“You did!” Roman said, ecstatic. “That’s the whole point! You did it, you got me! And I’m barely even hurt, don’t worry about it.”

Logan sighed again, reaching with his free hand for the rest of the medical supplies as Roman's blood began to soak through the first rag. Virgil looked away, even as he blushed under Roman's praise.

"But I… you’re not mad?”

“Not at all,” Roman assured. “I told you to attack me, didn't I? Sometimes people get hurt when you spar, this was a learning opportunity!" He paused, glancing down at Logan. “I’m bleeding quite a lot, aren’t I? Should I be worried about that?”

“You will be fine,” Logan said, not looking up. “The cut is shallow. Virgil did not land a fatal blow, though I can imagine the temptation was there.”

It startled a laugh out of Virgil, and Roman gave an offended gasp. “He would never! He’s a very good friend, much more so than someone I know.”

“Stay still.”

Roman scowled at his first mate, then winced in pain as he continued to tend to the wound. “It really is okay, Virgil. I’ve been stabbed worse by far more terrible foes, I promise.”

“You seem to have a habit of getting stabbed,” Virgil said, voice still a bit shaky. He relaxed a little when Patton put a hand on his shoulder. “And here I thought you were a master.”

“Even masters occasionally get stabbed. This is nothing,” Roman boasted. “Do I need stitches, Lo? That part does hurt, and I’d recommend not watching if you don’t have a thick stomach.”

Virgil did feel a bit sick at the thought, though it was more the idea of the Captain being in pain because of him than the stitches. The blood didn't bother him all that much- he'd had to get Patton to patch him up like this plenty of times in the past.

“I’m fine,” he said. “I can stay if you need someone to hold your hand.”

It had been a joke, nothing more than teasing, and Virgil absolutely was not half hoping Roman would take him up on the offer.

But Roman grinned, something mischievous in his eyes. He lifted his free hand and wiggled his fingers at Virgil. “Well then you’d better come comfort me, Prince Dreary.”

Virgil was going to kill him. His face flushed again, cheeks on fire. He had no idea how Roman kept managing to fluster him like this, but he wasn’t about to give the Captain the satisfaction of seeing it.

He rolled his eyes as he stepped forward, effortlessly slipping his hand into Roman’s and smirking. “Better?”

“Much,” Roman hummed, and Virgil saw Logan roll his eyes. The Captain just smiled, his thumb stroking gentle lines along the back of Virgil’s hand. “Your hands are very small, you know. Soft, though.”

It was quiet musing, gentle and kind, but Virgil's chest squeezed painfully, suddenly very aware of how much smaller he was than the other three men on the deck, shame and anxiety rising to his throat.

“Yeah okay,” he muttered, gaze dropping back down to the floor. “Maybe your hands are just huge, Roman.”

“I’m not complaining,” Roman said, but his smile softened like he had picked up on Virgil’s discomfort. “They’re soft. Cold as hell, but that’s only fitting for Peter Deadpan, I suppose.”

Virgil scoffed, but his face felt warm, and his smile was quickly becoming more relaxed again. “Well, I didn’t grow up playing with swords like you did. Royal life is kinda boring compared to the life of a pirate.”

“I don’t know,” Roman mused, and he shared an odd look with his first mate. “Royal life can be exciting too. It’s just… a different kind of excitement.”

Logan snorted, peeling the blood soaked cloth away from dark skin. “You would know.”

Roman winced, squeezing Virgil’s hand. “That was years ago, Logan. It’s possible it’s gotten more exciting since then.”

“I’m sure.”

Wait, what?

Virgil didn’t get a chance to ask the questions on the tip of his tongue before Roman huffed, tilting his head to inspect what was left of the wound. “Are you almost done, oh gracious healer?”

“You don’t need stitches, Captain,” Logan said, unamused. “But you’re more than welcome to keep holding the Prince’s hand if you’d like.”

Roman just glared, clearly biting back a smile as Logan gathered up bandages from his first aid kit, still keeping a firm hold on Roman’s arm.

Virgil squeezed Roman’s hand without thinking, scrambling for the right words. “You… you were a royal?”

“A long time ago, yes.” Roman’s smile faded, his thumb going back to tracing soothing lines on Virgil’s hand before he could feel guilty for opening his mouth. “Far from here, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t know of me.”

“What kingdom?”

“Lucoria,” Roman said softly. “It’s due East, months away. We’re far from it.”

Virgil nodded, fighting not to lose himself to the flood of memories as he thought back to the history practically forced down his throat since he was a child. He’d heard of Lucoria, could vaguely recall rumors and stories, but history had never really been his strong suit. He’d never really been interested in the past, anyway.

But he could see the tension Roman was failing to hide, and he quickly squeezed the Captain’s hand once more, offering what he hoped was a gentle smile

“I’m glad you got out,” Virgil said, eyes glued to Roman, unable to look away. “It doesn’t seem like you’d enjoy that life.”

Roman returned Virgil's smile easily, tilting his head. "Like I said, it’s a lot more free. It wasn’t… all my choice, but once you're out there's no way you can go back. Leaving was the best thing I could have done."

“Well… thank you,” Virgil said quietly, the rest of the world melting away for just a moment. “For letting me leave too.”

Roman’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed, and for the first time since Virgil had met him, Roman was completely still. “Anything for you.”

For what felt like an eternity neither of them moved, everything almost magically quiet. And then Roman hissed in pain, whirling around and yanking on his injured arm, shattering the moment.

“Ow, you—”

“There you are, Captain,” Logan announced, ignoring Roman’s outburst and cutting the rest of the bandage. “Try to be more careful next time.”

Roman winced and pulled his arm away from Logan, scowling. Virgil glanced at Patton, the older man watching them all carefully, expression worried but guarded.

“Yes, yes,” Roman said, the Captain practically pouting. “We’ll be more careful.”

Virgil hesitated to let go of Roman’s hand, eyes now on his freshly bandaged arm. “I’m sorry, again. For hurting you.”

“It’s okay,” Roman assured. “Though, I do think it’s best that we stop for the day. But we can pick this up anytime.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. Today had entailed more physical activity than he’d ever had in his life, his ribs and chest starting to ache now that the adrenaline was starting to fade. “Sounds good, Captain.”

Logan practically had to drag Roman away, guiding the Captain back to the bridge while Patton gently took Virgil by the shoulder and steered them both back to their quarters.

Virgil went willingly, leaning into Patton’s familiar touch, but it took a while for the pleasant warmth to disappear from Virgil’s cheeks.

And if he couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot for the rest of the afternoon, Patton was gracious enough not to point it out.

Taglist: @i-really-like-dragons @stitches-system @poettheythem @remy-the-lemon-berry @shrubs-and-bushes @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @wordsmithandworm @the-dead-and-the-decaying @hope340 @winterwynd @thomas-sanders-tothe-standers @angstysunshine @sunshineandteddybears @pixelated-pineapple @fire-and-ash67 @blues-clues-oh-wait @shinekittenace @marrymebishop @all-panic-nodisco @ravenclawunicorn1 @someoneiwasnt @listenherebuddypal @aroace-energy @iinyxtello

#pirate au #sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts virgil #roman sanders #ts roman #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #sword tw #blood tw #injury tw #fanfiction #writing

62 notes · View notes

thechekhov · 4 years

Note

sorry if the question seems stupid, but my family keeps on saying it's the protesters that started the fights and that it's wrong of them to use violence against police and steal from stores. they completly ignore police brutality and tell me that i can't say all cops are racist and violent. but wasn't it the police that turned peaceful protests into riots? i read that on social media, but i have no evidence and idk where to look. i want to explain the situation properly so they understand.

I’ll preface this with saying that if you expect to change anyone’s opinion, you must first lower your expectations.

Unfortunately, direct debate RARELY changes anyone’s mind. RARELY. Most of the time, it just gets people to dig their heels in more and refuse to listen and stick to their guns. The truth is, human beings HATE to lose face and look like they were wrong. This natural phobia often prevents even level-headed, intelligent individuals from coming to logical conclusions.

So what you need to do first is just take a step back, breathe deep, and form a strategy.

First of all, your goal is not to change your parents’ minds - the first step is EXPOSURE. You just need to get them to at least CONSIDER other avenues - get them to look at other sources.

I can’t believe you’ve got me quoting My Big Fat Greek Wedding but there’s a lot of truth in the tactic of ‘you’ve gotta make it seem like it’s their own idea’. People are a lot more likely to change if they do it on their own, so you have to just give them the information and take your time and ask leading questions

Let’s start gentle:

THIS THREAD has a TON of examples and videos of police using violence and directly attacking media - who have every right to be at the protests! If you want to change the framing, you can make it easier for your parents - slide into their narrative! Ask questions instead of forcing your own opinions. ‘Wow, I think the tensions are making them act quite irrationally. Don’t they WANT the media to see what a good job they’re doing? Why would they hurt media reporters?’

Now, if you want to go further, here is a full list of some direct videos related to the brutality - and links to them!

Warning - some of these are more graphic than others. I’ve tried to provide descriptions as much as I remember the content. If you reblog, please tag appropriately!

. . .

A family trying to protect their store was attempting to flag down a police car driving by to get their help - the police turned around, came back.... and arrested them instead.

This one just speaks for itself really.

Protesters kneeling and chanting DON’T SHOOT - and the subsequent firing on them immediately afterwards.

Video of a side by side comparison of the full clip of police vehicles accelerating into unarmed civilians vs the one aired on television that decidedly CUTS that clip short to paint the police in a better light.

More general videos of police being completely unable to tolerate it when people are protesting without instigation - and immediately breaking the crowd violently and swinging at unarmed civilians.

This is the couple that were recorded being violently pulled from their car. They were returning home and were right behind another car with a white couple - which was ignored by the 5+ officers who instead surrounded the couple’s car and began screaming at them to get out all the while clocking them inside the car. They tazed them several times before bodily dragging them from the car with no provocation.

Yes another example of excessive force - man approaches the line - immediately gets maced. He turns AWAY from the police, does not instigate and immediately gets a tear gas canister fired short-range at his HEAD.

There are several videos of this but the clearest one is the virds-eye view where the protestors are once again NOT instigating - just holding the line. Police begin to suddenly fire tear gas canisters into the crowd.

Police have been targeting medical treatment areas and places where people stockpile water- and destroying water bottles!

Not explicit violence but this is one of the MANY examples of police trapping people with no way to escape BEFORE curfew even takes effect and then effectively waiting until curfew hits and then doing mass arrests.

People were protesting on the highway, not obstructing traffic, when police came at them and without warning or demands to disperse began to fire tear gas and flash bangs. They trapped them against a fence and continued to fire despite there being absolutely no way for the protesters to escape.

Recent video that was on the news - the boy standing in the top right corner is a 16 year old. He is standing with his hands in his pockets not moving, and suddenly is shot by 3 different police officers unprompted.

Old video, time-stampted about 2 years ago, but nonetheless important - police taze and drag a disabled man from his vehicle even after he clearly offers himself to be cuffed and states clearly several times that he cannot get out because he’s paralyzed.

Police fake kneeling for protestors, so the protestors approach and start clapping - and using this to their advantage, the police fire tear gas.

And as a dessert, THIS ENTIRE THREAD! It’s a compilation of police violence and excessive force from this week alone.

#Anonymous #police brutality #video compilation #twitter #blm #black lives matter #yblm #chekhov answers

2K notes · View notes

arrowflier · 3 years

Note

Hey, Arrow! Yesterday's speedwrite was sooo good. Would you consider writing something exploring the mugging where the guy ran off after he saw Mickey's tattoos, or Ian sitting on Mickey's lap at the park to piss off some housewife? I'd be super interested to read more about either one of those scenarios!

Thanks for prompting me Jessie! I wrote the park scene yesterday, and here’s a little blurb about the failed mugging.

They’re walking down the street to the corner store, minding their own damn business on a critical quest for cheap booze, when a stranger darts out of the alley and presses a gun to Mickey’s back.

Mickey stops still, hands partially raised. It takes Ian a moment to notice that he’s no longer beside him, before he’s stopping a few strides ahead and turning back with a question on his face.

The question turns to horror so fast it gives Mickey whiplash.

“Gimme your wallet,” hisses the stranger with the gun, voice low and threatening. Mickey sees a hand pop over his shoulder to gesture at Ian when he adds, “your little boyfriend, too.”

Ian immediately reaches for his pocket, but Mickey just rolls his eyes at him and gives a minute shake of his head. Ian hesitates, but stops and leaves his hands loose at his sides. His fingers are twitching with nerves, and Mickey wants nothing more than to still them with his own, but he has to take care of this first.

“We don’t got nothin’ worth stealin’, man,” he says, much too lightly for the situation. He can feel the armed man at his back tense, the gun digging a little deeper into his spine, and winces at the pressure.

“Sure you do,” is the response he gets. “Couple a rich queers like you could bankroll me for months, so hand it over before I start gettin’ antsy.”

“Rich?” Mickey snorts at that, arms dropping a fraction before a nudge with the gun gets them back up. “I’m wearin’ a fuckin’ torn hand-me-down shirt and used boots, man, who you callin’ rich?”

“Mickey,” Ian starts, but he’s silenced by their would-be-mugger.

“Listen to your boytoy, he knows what’s up,” the man tries. He’s starting to sound less confident, but no less desperate. “You’re wanderin’ around the Westside unarmed and unaware, so don’t try to play me.”

“How you know I ain’t packing?” Mickey asks, and feels the muzzle slip against his back for a split second.

Then Ian just has to chime in. “Mickey,” he hisses earnestly, “you promised no guns.”

Oh, for—

Mickey gets a whack to the back of the head from the mugger’s free hand for that, and he’s finally had about enough. He sighs, eyes heavenward, before dropping his arms and taking a step forward.

“Hey!” the mugger shouts, moving with him to keep the weapon at his back. “I got a gun on you man, I know you ain’t walkin’ away from me!” Ian’s face is stuck on shock, mouth open and eyes wide at Mickey’s audacity, and he can’t take these two idiots any longer.

“That’s not even a real gun,” Mickey scoffs, stepping away again and turning to face his attacker. “I could feel the fucking plastic tip, you moron.”

Now that he’s facing him, Mickey can tell that the mugger is really just a kid. He looks almost the same age as Mickey was, the first time he got busted.

Maybe someone else would feel sympathy, at that, but Mickey is just irritated by it. Unless your father was Terry fuckin’ Milkovich, there was no real excuse for this shit.

The guy isn’t giving up, though, and he has to admit he admires the persistence just a little.

“You willing to bet your life that you can tell the difference?” the mugger challenges, and cocks his little pistol. He even turns it on its side, to look more intimidating, and Mickey almost wants to teach him how to hold it properly.

“Uh, yeah,” Mickey answers instead. “Had enough guns against me to know what cold metal feels like; I think I’ll take the fuckin’ risk.”

“You..,” the guy starts, then pauses as it sinks in. “Wait, what?”

Mickey takes advantage of his momentary confusion to grab the toy gun out of his hands, twirling it around in his fingers before holding it back out in a closed fist. He can tell when the kid registers his tattoos, his face going suddenly white as he reads them.

“Shit,” he breathes. “You’re not Westside.”

Mickey raises an eyebrow at him. “Uh, no,” he agrees. Then all he can see of his assailant is his back as he’s running away.

“Hey, you forgot your gun!” Mickey calls after him, still holding it out. The guy just glances back once over his shoulder before turning the next available corner out of sight, and Mickey shrugs, tucking the toy into his waistband.

He turns to see Ian watching him.

“What?” he asks, stepping closer. “Come on man, we gotta get movin’ if we want to grab shit before they close.”

“Mickey,” Ian says, refusing to budge. His voice was oddly flat, like it usually was when Mickey did something wrong. “Did you really know the gun was fake?”

Mickey dodges the question, faking offense by hitting Ian in the shoulder with the back of his hand. “You think I don’t know my guns, Gallagher?”

Ian takes the bait. “Hey, I never said that,” he corrects, “but you have to admit it was a risky move.”

Mickey sighs. “Ian, come on.” He spreads his hands out, raises his brows. “Fucking Lou could tell when my gun was fake, it’s not exactly rocket science.”

“Right, sure,” Ian accepts, nodding. “Cause you’d never do something stupid like egg on a trigger happy mugger, right Mick?”

“Right,” Mickey agrees easily. “Not with you around, at least,” he adds, and walks away before Ian can process the comment.

“What…Mickey!” he shouts after him when he does, loping to catch up before his husband turns the corner.

Mickey is laughing when Ian grabs his shoulder to turn him around, but Ian doesn’t find it so funny.

“Mickey, please tell me you aren’t serious,” he intones. “You promised you wouldn’t do stupid shit anymore.”

Mickey just rolls his eyes, and his shoulders, dislodging Ian’s hand. He makes up for it by throwing an arm around his waist, tugging until Ian starts walking with him again.

“Relax, Gallagher,” he says. “I said not with you around.” He looks up at Ian from the corner of his eye, a gentle-edged smirk on his lips. “And unless you’re plannin’ on leavin’ me—don’t fuckin’ interrupt, I know you’re not—you’re always gonna be around.”

Oh.

Okay then.

Ian gets his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, forcing them into an awkward swaying gait lest one of them lose their grip on the other.

“Soft,” he teases gently, and Mickey’s smirk softens into a smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “guess so.”

#so it ended up not really being about the tats #but that's ok #daily speedwrite #gallavich #fanfic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #silly #dramatic but silly

115 notes · View notes

rivers-rambles21 · 3 years

Text

The one where Bucky comes home

Part 13 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)

Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different point in their friendship - very slow burn!

Warnings | 18+ only !!Smut!!!

I’ll be continuing this fic for a few more chapters before starting on my Mafia/Mob Enemies to Lovers Bucky X Reader fic! Thank you for all the notes :) x

Everyone you knew had seen the video of John Walker killing an unarmed man in Latvia. It shook you to your core as you recalled your brief meeting with the former soldier outside the police precinct and wondered just how fucked up the mission had gone for him to commit such a crime. You'd caught a brief glance of Bucky and Sam in the video you had watched and had been worried they were somehow involved in the altercation but those concerns were swiftly shut down when you got a text from Bucky letting you know they were okay and he was returning to Brooklyn.

You'd not spoken to one another on the phone since your last call and hadn't really texted either apart from his brief text so you had no real idea of when his flight would be arriving.

After a quick visit to the grocery store you made it back to your apartment with the intention of cooking a meal ready for when Bucky would arrive home. You let yourself in, not having locked the door on the way out, knowing you wouldn’t be gone for long. Throwing your purse on the side table, you began unpacking your items, humming to yourself as you did.

“Hi doll” You screamed in shock, your hand going to your chest as you spun on the spot, dropping the apples you were holding.

“BU-! You almost gave me a heart attack!!” Your heart practically beat out of your chest as adrenaline ran through your veins; your voice shrieking with the shock.

He smirked at you as he leant against the couch arm, his jacket discarded and arms bare as they stretched across his chest.

“C’mere” Opening his arms he flashed you his boyish smile, laying on the full Bucky charm as he did.

Without hesitation you ran towards him and leapt into his arms, not thinking twice as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his neck with joy.

You remained like this for a few moments, both wrapped up in each other as Bucky held you close to his chest. He enjoyed the feeling of you pressing up against him before you slowly pulled back from him, faces impossibly close as your eyes dropped down to his lips, just as he did the same.

Neither of you could say who moved first but within a second your lips were upon one another, desperately fighting for dominance over the other. Bucky won as his right hand found the back of your neck, holding you against him as his other hand grasped the back of your shirt, resting just above your ass.

You kept your arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss deepened, both caught up in the moment and intensity.

A moment of realisation suddenly hit Bucky and his soft lips left yours, a gasp escaping your mouth. His eyes sought yours, as his hand moved from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Doll” His lips quirked into a small smile as his eyes bored into yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that”

“Oh I have an idea” You murmured back, your eyes setting back on his lips before kissing him again. Your fingers threaded into his hair, pulling on it slightly which earnt you a groan from the soldier. The sound dampened your already wet panties, your cunt throbbing with need as you started to guide you both towards your bedroom.

Bucky’s lips moved from yours and started trailing kisses along your jaw before reaching your neck, greedily nipping and sucking as he did.

“Bedroom” You gasped as he bit on a particularly sensitive area, fingers finding his hair again as you tugged at it desperately. Your other hand snuck down to his jeans and pulled at his belt, urging him into the direction of your room. You felt your legs hit the back of your bed before you fell backwards, pulling Bucky on top of you.

His lips left your neck as he rested his weight on his metal arm, hovering above you as his crotched pressed against your clothed core. His bulge felt heavy as you anticipated what laid beneath, your cunt throbbing with need.

Your hands made quick work of his belt before your fingers descended on his jeans, fiddling with the buttons.

“Hold on a second doll… I want to take my time with you.” He whispered, kissing your nose as he did. Moving back onto his knees he glanced down at you, eyes raking your body before slowly sliding his hands up your waist and grasping your tshirt; guiding it up your stomach. His head bent down as his lips descended once again on your bare skin, his lips dragging up your torso as he eventually reached your bra. “I’m sorry” he grunted as you raised your head, wondering what on earth he was talking about before you heard a rip as your shirt was pulled apart along with your bra. Your breasts sprung free and Bucky delved in like a man possessed as his tongue flicked your left nipple, his right hand pulling on the other.

“Oh god” you panted, your fingers tugging on his hair, pressing him against your chest as your pussy throbbed.

Bucky was in heaven, with every suck and flick he earnt a moan from you beneath him. His cock somehow grew even harder with each noise that left your sweet lips. Despite wanting nothing more than to sink into your wet cunt and pound you into oblivion he wanted to pull an orgasm from you before giving into his desires. Settling for thrusting his groin against the bed he squeezed your breasts before moving his lips further down your body, eager to have a taste of your sweet nectar.

“Bucky - you- you- you don’t have to” Your fingers tugged on his hair, trying to lift his head away from your body.

His head suddenly shot up, his eyes reaching yours as he raised an eyebrow, almost mockingly before popping the button on your jeans. He hastily pulled them off your legs, throwing them over his shoulder. Yanking your legs, he pulled you towards the edge of the bed as he knelt down, tugging them over his shoulders. “Fuck doll, you’re soaked.” His thumb brushed over your damp panties, teasing your core with every gentle stroke. His eyes were transfixed on your clothed cunt, his tongue licking his lower lip in anticipation.

“Bucky please” you whined, desperate for some friction.

Feeling generous, Bucky complied with your wish and gave your panties the same courtesy he gave your top before throwing them over his shoulder to join your jeans.

“Bucky!” You protested, leaning up on your elbows to shoot him a glare. However, every thought suddenly left your mind as he licked a stripe from your dripping hole to your clit.

Your hips thrusted upwards as he began his assault on your soaked pussy, alternating between dipping his tongue into your aching hole and flicking and sucking on your clit. You threw your head back as pure bliss overcame you, your back arching as your cunt fluttered around nothing.

Bucky’s metal hand suddenly pressed down on your stomach to keep you in place, the cool metal providing some form of relief as he continued his ministrations on your core, pulling moan after moan from you.

“I need-I-I-” You panted as you tried to keep control of your legs which had started to clamp around his neck.

“I know doll, I know” He cooed as he thrusted a finger inside your cunt, almost cumming in his pants as he felt your soaked walls flutter around it; sucking it in further.

“Oh fuck” You panted, grabbing hold of your own breasts, pulling and plucking on your nipples to help pull you over the edge sooner.

“Ah ah ah” He tutted as he swatted your hands away. “Eyes on me”

You were too blissed out as your eyes were screwed shut, overcome by the feeling of Bucky's finger stroking your walls to hear what he said.

A light slap to your thigh and a curl of his finger caused your eyes to shoot open before his lips descended on yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth as you tasted yourself on him. A second finger slipped inside as his lips left yours, curling against your most sensitive spot.

“Eyes on me” His voice came out rough as he fought down the urge to thrust harder against the bed, seeking friction.

You nodded your head, unable to form a single word as another sinful moan left your lips, only growing in volume as he returned his mouth to your dripping core; your eyes never leaving his piercing blue ones. Your first orgasm was nearing fast as you felt your coil tighten, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“Come for me doll” He mumbled against your clit before sucking hard and pumping his fingers into you, almost erratically.

Your body did as commanded and you tingled all the way from your head to your toes as your orgasm overcame you. You rode wave after wave as Bucky continued thrusting his fingers, gently slowing down as he carried you through your high. Your eyes had closed on instinct but Bucky didn’t mind, he was utterly transfixed with how wrecked you looked. He wanted to make you this way time and time again. He was a man obsessed.

“Fuck” You muttered as you felt your soul return to your body, your legs going limp.

You opened your eyes just in time to watch as Bucky slipped his fingers out from you and popped them into his mouth, licking your juices clean. It was the single most erotic thing you’d ever witnessed. Heat flooded your chest as you squirmed on the bed, eager for further relief.

“You did so well doll” He praised as he slowly crawled his way back up your body, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he did, his eyes transfixed on your chest.

Taking advantage of the distraction, your legs circled his waist and you pushed your body weight to the side, rolling him onto his back with your soaked cunt pressed against his jean clad crotch.

“Off” You ordered, tugging on his shirt before returning back to his jeans, pulling them down his strong legs along with his boxers as Bucky removed his top.

You gulped as you took in the sight of his engorged cock, the head dark and angry, precome leaking down it.

Sensing your nervousness Bucky sat upright, his feet planted on the floor as he sat on the edge of your bed; pulling you close to his chest. Your legs slotted either side of his as his hands caressed your thighs, slowly making their way up to your ass, squeezing your cheeks as they did.

“We don’t have to” He murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck, kissing every inch he could get his lips on.

“I want to” You gasped in response, your head tilting back to give him more access as he made his way down your chest. “It’s just been a while”

“I’ll be gentle” He had every intention, he really did but when you lifted your hips and slowly sank down his length, your tight cunt squeezing and sucking him in, he nearly lost it.

“Y/n” he groaned, sweat forming on his brow as he used every ounce of will power he had not to thrust up into you.

A whimper left your lips as you finally took his entire length, his cock bottoming out deep within you. The pain was undeniable, although he’d gotten you as ready as you could’ve been, the stretch wasn’t something his fingers could prepare you for. You felt as though you were being split open as you took inch after inch of him.

But, the pain soon dissolved and turned into pleasure as you felt an uncontrollable need to move - to feel the drag of his thick cock rub against your velvet walls, hitting the spot you’d been able to reach only a handful of times before.

Slowly, you lifted your body, gasping as you felt his cock twitch inside of you; never before had you felt so full. “Bucky!” Your fingers threaded through his dark locks, pulling tightly as you sunk back down, the pain that was there before suddenly gone and replaced with wave after wave of bliss.

“Doll” He choked, his fingers digging into your ass as he remained still beneath you. Unwilling to move until you’d given him the all clear. God, it had been so long since he’d felt a woman wrapped around him, but he was positive no one had ever felt as good as you did.

“Please, please!” You begged, not quite sure what you were asking for as you continued to bounce on his cock. Taking charge Bucky’s metal hand moved from your ass and gripped your chin as he pulled your face towards his. Lips smashed together as his tongue invaded your mouth, pulling yet another moan from you.

His hips started to lift, meeting you thrust for thrust as his flesh hand cradled your back, keeping you close to his chest.

Your lips left his to catch your breath just as his cock dragged along a particularly sensitive spot. A high pitched moan left your lips before you began chanting his name, his fingers having found your bud between your legs, the coldness of the metal adding to the intensity.

Bucky’s grunts beneath you only brought you closer and closer to the edge once again, his brows furrowed as his eyes flitted between your face, chest and where you were both joined.

“Come for me pretty girl” He breathed, his hips rutting against you harder than before, the sinful sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room as your juices dripped down his cock.

A yelp left your lips as stars erupted behind your eyes, your soul nearly left your body as Bucky fucked you through the aftershocks, speeding up as he felt his release near the instant your juices drowned his cock.

He couldn’t hold back any more and his thrusts became erratic before he groaned upon release, his hot cum squirting up into you, coating your insides.

It took a few moments for both of you to catch your breaths, your chests crushed together as you came back to earth. His cock softening inside you brought you back to reality and your legs suddenly became very uncomfortable in their position, aching from riding the man beneath you.

Sensing your discomfort, Bucky tucked his hands beneath your thighs and gently lifted you off him before turning you on your side, propping you up on his lap.

The evidence of your activities made itself known as it trickled out of you and onto his thighs. The realisation suddenly dawning on Bucky. “Shit Y/n, I didn’t think” he panicked, his hands clawing at his hair as his mind ran a thousand miles per hour.

He’d certainly thought about what a future with you would look like, how you’d look carrying his children, mothering your offspring and a selfish part of him wanted his seed to take.

However, he knew it was wrong, something this huge should’ve been a joint decision, but he’d been too caught up in the moment, too wrapped up in the feeling of being wanted by you.

“Hey, hey” you cooed as you gently stroked his cheek, thumb rubbing over his stubble. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill. As adorable as it would be, there won’t be any mini Bucky’s running around causing chaos any time soon” You tried your best to reassure him and peppered his nose and cheeks with light kisses as you did. “I’ll be right back.”

On unsteady legs, you rose from his lap and headed into the bathroom. After relieving yourself you took a moment to stare back at your reflection. You truly looked a mess, your hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions and your neck was littered with light bruises from where Bucky’s lips had assaulted your skin. A giggle left your lips as you left the room, high on the happiness that bubbled in your chest.

Tag list: @iamtheonewhocares @indigo123789 @xpurpleglitter

It’s been a while since I’ve written smut so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #tfatws #ao3

66 notes · View notes