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#the return of cowboy Vasco
canisalbus · 7 months
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✦ Fever Pitch ✦
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spookyspecterino · 8 months
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Grunt Work
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Sam Coe x GN! Reader
GN! Reader. No pronouns, no use of Y/N, or reader descriptions used. Reader is referred to as Captain sometimes, like in the game.
Canon typical violence: blood, injury, mentions of death, guns, language, romance, kissing. All PG-13.
Spoilers for the “Grunt Work” Quest
It’s the very first UC Vanguard quest. If you haven’t played it yet, I highly recommend it. Out of my 20-ish hours playing it’s my favorite so far.
No spoilers for the end of game (I haven’t even gotten close to it yet) or anything to do with Sam Coe’s romance questline (I haven’t finished that either).
Non-spoiler summary for this fic/quest:
Reader and Sam Coe go to Tau Ceti II to check up on the settlers in the Tau Gormet Production Center.
More descriptions of the fic with a more specific summary below the cut. I’m being very specific about spoilers because for most people, myself included, we’ve only had the game for a week.
More specific summary of this fic/quest:
The UC Vanguard sends you on a routine mission to check in on a settler colony on Tau Ceti II—it turns out to be anything but routine. With Sam Coe at your side, your first Vanguard mission is a baptism by fire.
Characters: Hadrian, Sam Coe, Vasco (mentions of other characters: Cora Coe and Barret)
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“Vasco, do a quick comms check for me. I want to make sure it’s working after it glitched out on the last planet.”
The tall robot makes some beeping and whirring noises. The way it stares into nothing bothered you at first, but after some time you’d gotten used to it—even appreciating how it followed commands without hesitation. Over by the ships on and off-boarding ramp, Sam says goodbye to Cora. A smile spreads across your face as you watch them.
The Frontier’s external lighting illuminates the surrounding landing site. An otherworldly moon hangs in the night sky. You take one more moment to do a last check of your pack’s contents. This was going to be a routine check-in mission, but it never hurt to be safe than sorry.
“Comms are operational, Captain.”
“Thank you.” You wave goodbye to Cora who smiles and waves back before returning to the Frontier. “Comms are good Sam, ready to go?”
Your companion saunters over with that signature ranger’s confidence. “Always.”
“Great. I think I’ve got everything. Vasco, have I got everything?”
“Scanning now.”
Sam shifts from foot to foot. “Storm’s rolling in.” He comments, looking into the distance. “I’d like to get there before it starts raining.”
Sure enough, muted thunder rolls on the horizon and the wind picks up a touch.
“Yeah, yeah. Hold your horses, cowboy.”
“I don’t even know what a horse looks like.” He mumbles.
Vasco beeps affirmatively. “The necessary items are present, Captain. However, you are carrying more than the recommended amount.”
You sling your pack over your shoulder with a grin, ignoring the second part. “Thanks Vasco. You know, for a second there Sam, I thought you were going to say something about your joints hurting.”
“Ha ha. I’m not that old.”
You make a teasing face at him as you start heading toward the compound’s lights in the distance. The trek isn’t bad, mostly flat terrain with a few rocks here and there. The wind continues to pick up, carrying the scent of rain.
Sam hops over a rock, taking his place by your side. “Not to sound too over-eager to get this Vanguard busy work out of the way, but, where’s our next stop after this?”
“I was thinking we could explore the rest of this system. How’s that sound?”
“You know me, no complaints here.”
A radio tower comes into view, red lights along the sides flashing periodically. Beyond it is the main compound.
“Oh, Cora asked to keep an eye out on books specifically about ship reactors. She thinks she can fix ours.”
You hike your pack higher on your shoulder, already feeling the soreness. Blast your incessant need to carry every type of weapon part with you at all times. “I’ll be on the look-out. If she can save me a few credits and fix it herself, she’s welcome to try.”
“She’s a brilliant kid, but let’s do it on a planet with an actual mechanic who can make sure it works after. I have faith in her, but she’s 11 and you can’t learn everything from books—”
“Hold up. Sam. Stop.”
He freezes, noticing your stock-still posture, eyes fixed on the wide-open doors of the radio tower. Bright light filters out into the night.
“Does that look like a body to you?” you ask him, pointing toward a slumped over shape laying against a supply crate.
“Sure does.”
Unholstering your pistol, you both crouch and move closer. The grass underfoot sways in the wind.
It’s a grisly scene. Multiple bodies litter the area. All settlers—dressed in civilian working clothes. Blood splatters dot the concrete, some trail back to a body. Sam whistles, short and low, to get your attention. He’s looking inside. On the table is a settler, face up, arms splayed out and gutted. Clothes stained a vibrant red. Deep claw marks gouge out sections of the floor.
“No bullets, no casings in sight.” He murmurs close to your ear. “And it’s all fresh.”
You don’t need to look at him to know he shares your particular anxiety. “Let’s check out the main compound.”
Moving out of the small building and down toward the tar mac, you’re about to say something about the wrecked ship when an alien scream interrupts you. It sets every hair on end. Never have you heard a sound like that, even on the many planets you’ve explored.
In little to no time after the scream, a sharp static crackles over your comms, making you jump. Sam shuffles closer, crouched low next to you. If the situation wasn’t so tense, he may have chuckled, but he stays frozen and somber faced.
“I am so glad to see you.” The voice, a woman’s, sounds heavy with relief. “I think it knows you’re here. Hurry up to the second-floor office, I’ll unlock the door.”
As you make your way into the compound, it feels like walking straight into the lion’s den. Every sense is on high alert. Lightning flashes, making you see things in the shadows that aren’t really there. Only Sam’s presence behind you keeps you level-headed.
The brightly lit, glass windowed office only makes you feel worse, like a sitting duck on display.
“I’m Hadrian.” The woman introduces herself curtly while holding her side. “Are you my saving grace?”
“Not exactly. I’m UC Vanguard—sent to check in on the settlers.”
“Well shit.” She leans against the table, eyes closed in pain.
“Please don’t tell me we’re dealing with a Terrormorph here.” Sam asks, beating you to the punch.
She sighs. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Shit. That’s bad news, Captain. Real bad.”
“Listen,” Hadrian starts, moving away from the table, “I know you’re just two people, but you have to help me kill this thing.”
“And why’s that? Why don’t we all just leave now?” You ask.
“It’s unique. It showed up way too early. Tau Ceti’s only been colonized for 20 years. If this is a new kind of Terrormorph that matures faster and shows up earlier, we need to know.”
“Damnit.” You hiss. “Terrormorphs that show up after only 20 years of colonization could wipe humanity off the map.”
“Exactly.”
Rain begins to fall on the large windows with a clatter. The rolls of thunder were becoming booming clashes now. Visibility was already reduced at night, but now the storm made things worse.
You relent, giving up any notions of leaving. “Alright. I’ll help. Got any ideas on how to kill it?”
Sam’s eyeing you particularly hard from where he stands.
“Yeah, turrets. But we need to bring them back online and get them powered up. The terminal’s on ground level at the far end of the warehouse.”
Sam grunts. “So, closer to the Terrormorph?”
“I’m not sure where it is right now. My best guess is it’s still around the outer edge of the facility. But there’s a tracking system you can use on one of the terminals.”
You run a hand over your face. “Ok. Tracker and turrets. That’s better than nothing. I can make do”
“Radio me when you’ve reset the system and I’ll calibrate it from here. Thank you for helping and good luck.”
You and Sam sneak out one of the office doors into the warehouse. Fat raindrops fall on the metal roof, amplifying the sound into a loud drumming. It doesn’t come close to the volume of your heartbeat in your ears.
“Vasco, come in.”
“Reporting, Captain.”
“Initiate full lockdown on the ship. Tell Cora we ran into some trouble and are taking necessary precautions. If she seems worried, give her a book from my locker.”
“Yes Captain.”
You shut off comms and sling your pack from around your shoulders, attempting a commanding tone that you’ve always needed to fake. “Sam Coe.”
His usual raspy, low voice is layered with apprehension. “Captain?”
You’re pulling out weapon pieces from your pack for your rifle. They’re big—heavy duty—and add a decent amount of weight to the gun. “Go back to the ship.”
“I had a hunch you were gonna pull something like this. No. No way.”
“That’s an order—”
“Don’t try that with me. You know it ain’t gonna work.”
You pause, just as you’re changing out the rifle’s .50 Cal magazine with a 9x39mm eight round clip. “Sam.”
“I’m staying.”
His eyebrows are furrowed. Mouth slanted in a stubborn, almost angry frown. You’d have to dig deep. “Cora can’t lose you.”
“You always pull that card. It’s lost its affect.”
“…I can’t lose you either.”
You’ve never used that before and quite frankly are surprised to hear it come out of your mouth. Maybe it’s too soon. Up until now, you and Sam have only been flirting—no real feelings or moves have been made. It’s a bit of a jump, but you’re sincere.
His eyes hold yours unflinchingly. The crease on his forehead lessens a little. “Then you know how I feel and why I’m staying right here.”
He’s one-upped you and you weren’t prepared for it. You murmur a “Damit Sam” and go back to modifying your rifle. Fighting is pointless, and his admission has your nerves shaken more than you’d like. “Stay glued to my side unless I say otherwise. If things turn sideways and I order you back to the ship, you’d better listen. Got it?”
“Understood, Captain.”
“I mean it.”
A hint of his familiar smile returns. “I heard ya.”
“And Sam…”
“Hm?”
“No heroics.”
He doesn’t respond, his brows pinch together again. It’ll have to do.
Moving through the warehouse went excruciatingly slow. At all times you wished you could just get up and run instead, but it would signal the monster almost immediately. The whole situation made you feel like you were prey, scared and small. The addition of Sam’s presence put a heavy responsibility on your shoulders and that made you even more careful.
Hadrian was on your comms as soon as the system was reset. She directed you to the tracker frequency tuner in the same room. While finding the frequency, the system went into high alert—detecting the major threat. Your watch begins beeping steadily, and then rapidly speeds up. The Terrormorph was getting closer to your position.
Your eyes met Sam’s just as the alien appeared on the roof of the building outside. Right in sight from the room’s windows you were in. A rough hand yanks you down to the ground. Sam is crouched damn near on top of you, shotgun aimed up at it. However, it doesn’t notice you two in the dark room. You slowly cover the watch face to try and muffle the beeping sound. Maybe it was the rain, or the creature was just playing games, but it moved on past to a different part of the facility. Loud footsteps fading as it leaves. The radar lessens to a low, steady beat.
“Hadrian, come in.”
“I read you. The turrets are going to need their power sources reset with the security system in lockdown.”
“Great.” Sam sighs, lowering his gun. His shoulder leans into yours as he gets closer.
“We’ll find them. Out here.”
Reaching for your rifle, your hands visibly shook. You can feel Sam’s watchful gaze.
“Last chance to leave.” You whisper, aimlessly checking over your gun. You feel his hand squeeze your shoulder reaffirming.
“Not happening.”
The first power source wasn’t hard to find. You took the slow route, keeping an ear out for any changes in the radar frequency. The power switch was like a beacon, a big red switch on a yellow panel—it stuck out like a sore thumb. When you flipped it lights came on, loudspeakers announced to stand back…and the radar went nuts.
“Out, out, out!” You hiss, pushing Sam toward the far end door. He doesn’t need to be told twice as he beelines it.
With Sam leading, you follow him, scrambling up onto the roof of the building near the turrets. Two of the six are online now. Two more switches and you’ll have a fighting chance. Maybe.
Behind you, further in the facility, things crash. For now, it seems you’re safe.
You huff, lightening the death grip you have on your rifle. “Ok, here’s the plan. We’re going to split up.”
“I’m not gonna like this am I?”
“Take the watch. Find the power sources. I’ll create a distraction.”
“No.”
“Sam…” you exhale, closing your eyes. Despite the sheer terror you feel, you manage a chuckle. “We’re not going to get anything done if you keep arguing with me.”
“Let me create the distraction.”
“No.”
“Now who’s arguing?”
“Your shotgun has no range—it’s effectively useless, you’d be dead in two seconds.”
“Fair point. Then give me your rifle, I’m a good shot.”
You’re already unclasping your watch’s band from around your wrist. “I’m not taking the risk.”
“What if I wanna take the risk?”
Shuffling over while still crouched, you bring his arm closer. The watch slides on and you make sure to fasten it tightly. “You already know I won’t let you. At least now you can radio Vasco if…”
It didn’t need to be said.  
He looks at the device and back to you. “Why is this startin’ to feel like you’re on a suicide mission?”
You can’t look at him or you’d lose the last of your nerve. “I’ll be on that walkway over there. It’ll have to run through the turrets to get to me and they’ll still have a shot when it tries to climb up.”
The way Sam chews his cheek really underlines how unhappy he is with this plan of yours. “Remind me to have a word with you about your savior complex when this is all over.”
“Hm. I’m looking forward to it.”
A gentle hand wraps around your arm. His eyes are soft, pleading. His other hand cups your face, it’s rough and calloused, but warm. “If you need to run, then run. You don’t have to die for some Vanguard that sends you on a ‘routine’ mission they were too lazy to check first—or for a colony full of dead settlers. Ok? I want you back, with me, alive, and in one piece.”
You don’t trust yourself enough to speak, something sappy or cheesy may decide to come out, so you simply nod.
It isn’t enough for him. “Please, say you’ll come back to me. I need to hear you say it.”
If he wasn’t so close, he may not have heard you through the pounding rain. “I’ll come back to you.” You pretended that you meant it, that you believed it.
“Thank you.” His hand falls away to hold his shotgun. “Now let’s kill this thing.”
“Be safe.” You manage before turning and heading toward your position. The chill of the rain creeps through your spine, but the warmth from Sam’s hand lingers on your cheek. You try to hold onto that feeling.
The steel walkway is sturdy and grated, giving you a good vantage point of the surrounding area. Once in position, you set up your rifle and lay flat, adjusting the scope. Lightning flashes, the crash of thunder isn’t far behind it. Water runs down your face and you wipe it hastily to keep it from your eyes.
The bright fire of the flare casts everything in red. With a good toss, it lands directly in the middle of the kill lanes. Bringing out your pistol you shoot once, twice, up into the air. The alien screams and the sound of wrenching, tearing metal draws near.
The hulking creature appears at the far end of the kill lanes, focused on the flare. It’s huge, big enough to fill your scope’s sights. You breathe deep and exhale slowly as you take your first shot.
The round hits the Terrormorph square in the back leg, crippling it for a moment. Blood leaks out onto the ground below. It lurches before regaining balance on its five other legs, letting out an enraged roar.
More lights come on in the facility. Sam’s already found one power breaker. Two more turrets begin to flash and come online.
The monster’s head swings in a different direction. Toward Sam, no doubt. The realization fuels you with a cold fury. You crank the rifle’s bolt-lever, a long bullet casing flies out of the chamber with a cling. Sliding the lever back with a heavy clunk you even your breath and prepare to take another shot.
You take it, aiming for its other back leg, but miss—the shot glances off the ground. Six shots left.
The thing’s giant head swings back to stare at you directly. Through your scope it’s as if you’re staring it directly in the eyes. Its front legs stomp the ground, and it roars. It ambles forward right into the kill lanes. Four turrets open fire, knocking it off balance and sending it sprawling momentarily. You take another shot, this time severing its thinner front limb.
The thing howls, ear splittingly loud and shrill, but claws its way back onto its feet. The turrets are doing damage, but it isn’t enough. It lurches toward you with surprising speed. The turret fire follows. You take a shot and miss. You exhale and your breath comes out shaking.
It's at the base of the building your walkway is on as Sam flips the final switch and the last of the turrets power up. The Terrormorph slows down a little, struggling to climb the building with two of its limbs missing. You have another 130 seconds, maybe, before it reaches you.
Your fifth shot hits it in the back, effectively doing nothing. The thing is bloody and losing steam from the constant onslaught of all six turrets. You start to feel hopeful. There’s movement to your left. It’s Sam on one of the rooftops. You’re about to give him a thumbs up when lightning flashes—some of the facility machines spark, an alarm sounds, and all lights except for auxiliary backups flatline. An unlucky power surge from the storm.
The Terrormorph has reached the base of the walkway below and is trying to make its way up, now free from turret fire. This would be your chance to run, but something holds you there. A false hope maybe.
You hold your breath, take a shot, and hit it square in the face. It doesn’t stop, clawing at the thin metal for purchase. Pulling the bolt lever and sliding it home, you fire again, chipping its other back leg and causing it to stumble. Metal rails groan and collapse under the monster’s weight. It falls to the ground with a metallic crash. You don’t fire, yet.
Sam is still on the other roof. You wave him off, pointing to the ship. Trying to make it clear that this was the order to run. A clashing sound below snags your attention back to the monster. It’s testing out the strength of the rail supports.
You’re aiming again as it springs up and begins throwing its weight at the steel rods. The vibration of the metal groaning and shifting with each impact reverberates through you. This is your last shot.
You fire and miss entirely as a section of rails to your right collapse and bend, tugging your section down. You’re forced to let go of your rifle to hang on. It clatters to the ground below.
More support beams collapse and you can feel the structure groan before you even hear it, vibrating hard enough to numb your hands. Trying to climb up the tilting walkway was a mistake as the shift in weight caused the whole thing, with you attached, to fall entirely. The feeling of falling was short-lived, something sharp sliced at your leg as you fell into the railing and walkway debris below.
For a moment, you lay dazed and in pain. The sound of rain patters around you on metallic surfaces. The whole walkway and railing fell over, the area was littered with jutted angles and metal parts. Something shifted under the debris. Something big enough to toss heavy metal away with ease. Any hope of the Terrormorph getting crushed by the impact was gone as it reared back and screamed. Its eyes, all six or seven of them, landed on you.
There was no way of escaping, debris had fallen over you. A particularly large beam held you in place on your back. Your pistol, the last line of defense, dug into your hip uncomfortably.
Sensing it had you trapped, the creature took its time closing the distance. Your leg was devoid of all feeling except a vague sensation of warmth spreading around it. The rails on top of you pinned you down, but you managed to free your measly pistol.
Only three or four of your shots made contact, others glanced off the Terrormorph’s armored shoulders or missed entirely. Either way, the low caliber did nothing to it. With an empty mag, and nothing else to defend yourself with, your arm fell to your side. You just hoped Sam was smart enough to listen and go back to the ship.
A loud blast caught the monster on the side of its head, snapping it away from you, and causing it to stumble.
Apparently, he wasn’t.
Sam emptied three more shells into the creature before reloading with cool, practiced ease. One blast dislocated the Terrormorph’s other back leg. Chunks went flying.
It howled and thrashed as he kept unloading shells into it. When he was completely out, he dropped the shotgun and picked up a long rod of metal with a jagged, broken end. The sharp tip sliced clean into its ribcage. When the alien still tried to pull itself up on its remaining two feet, Sam pulled it out with a yank and drove it home into the thing’s head, right above the mandibles. It gave one final spasm and finally fell dead.
At last, the only sound around you was the rain.
Sam dropped the crude spear with a clatter, eyeing the body a few times as he rushed over through the debris.
“You ok?” he panted, kneeling down. His hands cupped your face, bringing the familiar warmth with them.
“Holy shit.” Was all you were able to say.
It made him laugh with relief as he moved to check you over. “And you said a shotgun wouldn’t do anything.”
His hands moved debris from your legs, and he hovered as you yelped in pain. “You’ve got a nasty gash here. We need to get you back to the ship for medical attention. Let me see if I can get this off you.”
With a grunt of effort, he pushed the beam up enough for you to pull yourself out. Your leg was bleeding badly, but nothing you couldn’t fix with some TLC and bed rest. The pain hadn’t set in yet, thankfully.
Near you was a chunk of the Terrormorph’s leg. Feeling oddly disconnected from yourself, you grabbed it, staring at the gross thing, and put it in your pocket for Hadrian.
Sam started taking out bandages and doing what he could to wrap your leg. You could see his hands were shaking now.
Against all odds you both were alive; you started to laugh.
Sam gave you an odd look. “Don’t go loopy on me.”
A giant smile broke across your face. “Wasn’t expecting to live. There goes my chance at a cool memorial or bragging rights.”
“Going face to face with a Terrormorph and only losing a chunk of your leg gets bragging rights. Believe me.”
“Nah. All the credit goes to you on this one. That was just badass.”
He grunted, throwing more debris out of the way, and trying to clear a path. “Wasn’t thinking about how cool it looked when I did it. I was just trying to save you.”
“You know I’ll be telling this story forever, right?”
He chuckles, helping you up, slinging your arm over his shoulder and wrapping his around your waist. “I can see Barret’s expression now.”
“‘Sam Coe, my hero’ is how I’ll start it.”
He groans playfully. “Please don’t.”
“It’s true.” You looked at him as your feet touched even ground. Your faces were close. You could see the rain drops clinging to his hair and beard. “You saved my life.”
When he looked over, his nose nudged yours from close proximity. He didn’t shy away from the contact. Your paces slowed to a stop. “I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again, either.”
Your grin was slow to spread as you glanced at his lips more than once. “Would you prefer a quippy one line as thanks?”
“Mm—no. Maybe something else though.”
You feigned ignorance as his eyes trailed down your face. “Oh? And what would that be?”
“I’ll let you think of it.”
“A hero’s song?” you joked, voice softening.
“Nope.”
“How about a poem?”
He faces toward the room Hadrian’s in with a low laugh and begins to walk again. “You know, if you were as much of a smartass to that Terrormorph as you are to me, it would have keeled over on the spot.”
You put your good foot down and hold it, halting any forward progress. “Ok, ok. I think I’ve come up with something.”
He’s still smiling as he looks at you. Your noses nudge again. “If you suggest a book or a short story—”
His surprised breath as your mouth presses to his is an award in itself. He stays motionless for a moment, as if his brain had short-circuited, before his lips move and mold to yours. Slow and tentative at first, exploratory. Soft and gentle as if he’s afraid of hurting you. His hand on your waist moves to your lower back, gripping your clothes. He leans into you, beard scratching the skin of your face. Your fingers slide through and tangle in his wet hair. It makes him pant into your mouth before kissing you again, more eager this time.
Breaking apart, you both linger close, hot breath mixing together. His forehead leans to yours, eyes still closed.
That raspy voice of his you love so much is the first to break the silence. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting you to do that.”
“You could have made the first move. I wouldn’t have minded.”
“Was never sure if you were just being quippy and flirtatious for fun or not.”
“It is fun, but it’s also because I care for you.”
He hums, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Good to know, we’re going to have to find time for this more often.”
You close the distance enough to ghost your lips over his. “We have time now.”
He hesitates, so tempted with the offer, but exhales instead. “You’re hurt and bleeding all over the place, I need to get you some medical help. Plus, Hadrian needs her damn samples.”
“Pshh. I’ve got plenty of blood left—and she can be patient.”
He starts walking again, bringing you with him, and pressing the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt against the corner of your mouth. “Just wait until you’re healed. You won’t be able to keep me away.”
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assassintine · 4 years
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50,32,25,2,1 for Graviir >:3c
01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?
Graviir doesn’t exactly mean anything. It’s one of those names where I kind tried to put things together (while I was falling asleep) and that’s what it ended up as, because yes, I liked the way it sounded. Although the root word of his name is Grave... like a tombstone or a grave plot hehe. So I guess there is some symbolism in that. He was meant to be an asshole but he turned into a broken mess that I fell in love with. 
02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?  
His native marking without a doubt. At first it was nothing because he didn’t understand. Then came the day when he caught onto the way people looked at him, the stares he would get at court. Maybe it was just the way adults in court behaved? But then the kids from wealthier status families started too, and well, kids are cruel so when the bullying started Graviir wasn’t silent anymore, he answered words with fists and it would spur into countless troubles for him later on. 
The fact he preferred to do more talking with his fists than actual talking is the biggest reason he never became Legate and his younger brother Marquis did. 
Later on, once on Tir Fradi and having learned his and Marquis’ history, that they were actually FROM the island and with Kurt’s death following the coup, he gets drunk and tries to remove the mark from his face. Covering it with his beard just didn’t cut it anymore but because he was found before he could (hopefully) bleed to death (as was his intention) He was instead left with deep scars that even said beard couldn’t grow right over any more. 
It’s an incredibly exploitable weakness to this day. 
25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day?
Besides the history with his native marking. He also, for a time, grew up alongside Kurt. It was under special circumstances that he was sent to the barracks on Serene and was to be trained alongside Kurt and others. It was Prince D’Orsays hope that it would mellow him out, or at least teach his some other ways to behave and deal with his anger issues. 
What the prince didn’t realize was what happened after lights out and behind the closed doors of the barracks and a lot of the trauma Kurt was subjected too, Graviir was as well. For a time, the two were each other’s comforts. However, the day came when Graviir had to return to his studies and Kurt became the primary trainer for Marquis and Constantin, leaving whatever had been between Kurt and Graviir to die. 
This plays a big role in the events after the coup as well, and why Graviir spirals out of control after having watched Marquis try to spare the soldier only for him to take his own life. While yes, he’s incredibly hurt by the events of the coup, and upset he hand’t caught on to what was going on with Kurt, there’s a jealousy that Graviir has because he sees that Kurt has finally obtained peace in death and Grav wants that too. 
32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do? 
As far as Graviir is concerned, there’s no such thing as a proper lover or a dream date. At least, that’s what he believed until he saw how much Marquis and Vasco cared about one another. Love may work for some, but he believes there’s no one for him and he doubts he’d be able to show anyone the kind of affection they deserve. 
  50. If your character confessed love to their crush, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc, what would they say?
He wouldn’t. Even IF he did fall and feel deeply for someone, he wouldn’t put them through that, and he wouldn’t want them to think he was being desperate. Marquis and Vasco are beautiful together, but he wouldn’t even know how to go about dropping his guard to try and let anyone close let alone be what they need. 
@the-cowboy-druid Thank you for sending angst prompts!
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canisalbus · 6 months
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how many distinct AUs do you have? had half an idea for a fanart thing but I only know of the Main Canon and then the modern AU lmao
There's the original late Renaissance canon, right now that seems to be in the process of splitting into two separate endings, a bad and a little less bad one. Vasco is a politician and Machete is a cardinal.
Then there's the modern au, which I'm currently treating as a reincarnation scenario, it takes place in the same universe as the first one, just some 400 years later. This is the happiest and most domestic option.
And lastly there's the elusive 1800's western au, a wildcard setting which started as an one-off joke but was fun enough that I may return to it from time to time, but you don't really have to pay attention to it. Vasco is a cowboy and Machete is a vampire.
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