#{ ‘’ blood on your face you big disgrace ‘’ flotsam }

[fantasmalforces]

Use this Picrew maker to make some faces!

Psyche // Ellie

Gustavo // Delphine

Flotsam // Agnes

Tagged by @the-maverick-deck ! (Eeee thank you! :D)

Tagging anyone who feels like do it!

[fantasmalforce]

arch your back a little  -  there you go.  that’s it. -> Vicar Max and Flotsam ( @mvximillixn )

USFW Starters | ACCEPTING

Doing as he was told, the Axie obediently arched his back a bit more, giving the vicar a good view of all of his scars to be traced, and raising his ass into the slow rhythmic motions of his hips. Sam’s teeth dug into his lower lip, a hand running through his hair and grip at his own scalp as his brows burrowed together. He was so used to having rougher sex with his companion— and the was all well and fun! There was something to be enjoyed about how they took turns pounding into each other, biting, scratching, pulling each other’s hair, moaning and groaning about how aggressive they could be and how much they wanted to make each other scream their name so loud, the Architect himself would hear them committing their favorite sins. This was a relatively new concept.

The slow pace of it was maddening. Sam rolled his ass against the vicar’s waist as firm, calloused hands took a hold on his, keeping him relatively still so he could endure the feeling of being slowly stretched. There was something so arousing about letting Maximillian take his time indulging himself in the assassin. He leaned over, wrapping his arms around Sam’s chest and slowly pulling him up to hold him from behind as he sat on his knees. The grinding picked up in pace and as Sam looked back at him, their lips met. Soft sounds escaped him into the kiss and his hand fell over his loving companion’s, following them as they traced over his body, savoring the feeling of them being delicately interconnected and in harmony for once instead of competing to see who could prove they were more dominant. It felt so much more sensual. Sam shuddered at every touch, shivered at every soft breath that tickled his ear, sighed with bliss at every honeyed word the human muttered to him.

And when the pace picked up, Sam was forced to pull away to try and keep his breath, the pleasure overwhelming him as he gently bounced against the vicar’s thrusts. And he moaned his name so sweetly when Max lovingly kissed at his whiskers that the man was almost certain he’d never be able to go back to rough sex— not when those sweet, heartfelt pleas for more sounded so much more satisfying that those restrained, defiant taunts for him to go harder that Max had to wrangle out of him. It felt like it was just the two of them and nothing else. Nothing else mattered besides them, and this moment, and each other’s soft words and soft touches, and the way they mumbled how good they made each other feel. All that mattered was how they gushed over each other and spared kisses to the corners of their lovers mouths, how they savored the way they trembled together, and they moaned to each other how they were about to cum, and how when they did, they did it together, and it was so much more satisfying than any other sex they’d had together.

[fantasmalforces]

Flotsam -- If you for some reason came into contact with the unfriendly parts of a couple lionfish, or stonefish, and you stored the venom, when you released it would it still have the same chemical profile and same effects on a victim? Or does your metabolism of it alter its structure, and thus effects and potency? Are certain toxins more difficult for you than others? For example, giant hogweed sap vs rattlesnake venom? --Respectfully, Montparnasse

“I like this one. Intuitive and curious. I can appreciate someone in pursuit of knowledge.”

“To answer your question, it’s a mixture of yes and no. And you’re on the right track as to why. By default, Axolotlans tend to simply store toxins filtered out from their diet to reuse- this is well known. But it varies by the individual and the diet itself, as well as the species. I myself am of the European variant so we follow this basic rule. Primarily, our acid is spray is a concentrated version of formic acid, which is created by eating ants and other bugs. Since this makes up a majority of our defense mechanisms most of the time, our physiology responds by literally breaking down and recombining the atoms we ingest from other poisons in our food into formic acid. Something something- it all boils down to chemistry. However, it doesn’t always pan out this way. If we find that one toxin is more prevalent- in this case we’re using a lion fish or stonefish toxins for example instead of traditional formic acid, then our bodies switch gears and begin changing molecules around to produce more of that particular poison. As we end up storing more of the toxin it becomes more potent and concentrated, and the minuscule amount of other toxins, like our traditional asset of acid, creates a secretion that is a more potent and caustic form of a stone or lionfish venom.

Following this, yes— some poisons are more difficult to get than others. Hogweed, ivy, nightshade, and doll’s eye is easy to get since all we need to do is eat it- assuming we can tolerate the effects. Snake venom is the hardest. Our small size as Axies generally makes us prime targets for most predators- especially snakes, and so even if we weren’t put off by being bitten multiple times, the high risk of being devoured for the sake of upping our defense game isn’t particularly ideal. I myself am I rare case. My... botched procedure did have some benefits. My acid clouds and sprays tend to be especially damaging and deterring. My larger size allows me to store more of the spray and thus create more potent acids to use. That means skin-melting trouble for anyone who gets too close while I have a full stomach.”

[fantasmalforces]

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Reply for @yourlovingspy // Source ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

Montparnasse gasped in delight. Was that an axolotl? He had never seen one in the city before, and certainly never seen one out of water, or looking so ferocious. Completely charmed by the small being, he went and knelt in front of it, looking on in awe.

“Hello,” he whispered, and tried not to smile, worried it might look like a threat, like a predator baring his teeth. Nervous, hoping not to scare the strange creature away, he held out his empty hand. “Are you alright? This doesn’t look like a very safe place for you. Do you need help? I.. I realize you probably can’t understand me, but… come here. It’s alright. Please. Let me take you somewhere safer, get you some clean water and some good food.” The thought of that delicate, pink flesh coming into contact with sharp glass, discarded razors, live wires, or any of the myriad of dangers to be found in trash, was deeply distressing. Still, he wouldn’t just grab the precious creature; Montparnasse made a habit out of never being predatory unless he absolutely had to. Choice had been denied him often enough; he never wanted to deny it to others, not if there was a better way.

Despite the very clear attempts to seem less threatening Flotsam only lept forward an inch or two with another warbling cry akin to an angry rain frog and stood his ground. The collar at his neck puffed out, expanding gasses visible just beneath the surface of the skin. Whiskers straightened as much as they could, legs aching from the stiffness with which he held himself up in an attempt to look bigger. Perhaps this would have been more effective if he actually had a tail and fins to raise as well but this was all he had. In truth, it wasn’t Monty’s fault he was so on edge. Flotsam just had a general tendency to view most things bigger, or more human-looking than him, as a threat to him. Something meant to bring him harm. And the circumstances in which he now found himself did nothing to help.

The offer of assistance seemed to wound his pride— not quite as much as the idea that he probably wasn’t able to comprehend language— but it was an insult to injury all the same. A jarringly low voice many would think uncharacteristic of such a small, soft-bodied being left the creature. “I’ll have you know I understand language just fine. I’ll also have you know that I’m far from helpless. You’re not the first person I’ve had come to try and serve me as takeout. Didn’t work then, it’s not going to work now. Now keep your distance, human.”

Well wasn’t he just delightful?

[fantasmalforces]

🎆 -> Gil and Flotsam || @maximuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Moodboard Aesthetic Meme // ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

💜 @maximuses 💜

“I still don’t know what you see in me. In you, I see the stars. I see galaxies and constellations and delicately interwoven bands of light that paint beautiful patterns in the sky that touch my heart. I see the oceans we left behind, the gorgeous skies above us, the wide wild forests I use to know like that backs of my hands. I look at you and I see home. And I see the infinite future that is before us out here. I feel a steady calmness that I haven’t known in a long time. I see it all in you.

But I will never know what you see in me.”

[fantasmalforces]

"Hey, Gilligan—" Gil waved from the balcony of the Tempest's engine room, gesturing for Flotsam to come over and have a chat. The engineer offered a bottle of beer he'd found in some crates. "You doin' alright after that whole fight earlier? Knew things were rough but... Well, I wasn't expecting that." || @maximuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @maximuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

The older Axie onboard huffed as he stalked over, arms crossed over his chest. Truthfully, he looked no worse for wear. Lloyd hasn’t exactly put up a fight. He mostly squealed and tried to shield his stupid face with his little nubs, cried as he waited for it to be over. Pathetic really. He didn’t even try to fight back. Not that same expected him to, but it was still disappointing to see just how little things ever changed.

He gladly accepted the beer all the same and sipped at it before handing it back to Gil. “I’ll be fine. Little runt didn’t even try to lay a hand on me. Even if he did, it wouldn’t have been much good.” There was a bitterness to his tone. Something old and worn, spiteful and almost guilty but not quite betraying the inner turmoil. He blamed Lloyd. For everything really. If he had just played along, accepted his place and his role, Flotsam would have been able to stay home. Stay with Yury. Stay with his clan happily. But no, he had to run away and make him inherit the birthright. It was his fault his transformation has been botched. His fault his Yury was gone— his fault he was all the way out here. And yet...

It had led him to Gil, hadn’t it?

He scoffed, gaze fixed firmly on the ground. “He’s been doing this his whole life. Tearing things apart. Ruining perfectly good opportunities. I think he does it on purpose really. Can’t take a moment to think about how his actions affect others, always so worried about himself— saving his own skin. I tell you, he is an omen, Gil. So long as Lloyd is on this ship, we’re cursed. Mark my words.” There was a venom to his words unlike anything Sam had ever spoken with before. It was... hard to listen to. Especially when it trembled at the end, threatened to break. He didn’t believe what he was saying, that much was obvious. He was just angry. Upset. Still bitter and clinging to a past long gone in hopes that the anger born from it would carry him to a better, more desirable future. But it wasn’t, and his resolve was being crushed beneath the weight of it all. He gestured for another sip of the beer but just as quickly turned it away.

“Seas— I need to go cool off.” He huffed, storming away and fucking off to go find something productive to do with his time. But no matter how big of a ship the Tempest was, it was still a ship. He was still limited by these walls. Resigned to go crawl into his bed, lay on his back, and stare at the ceiling wondering why things always happened the way he did. And when he couldn’t just ask Gil to hold him in the midst of the whirlwind of emotion around him.

God, life sucked.

[fantasmalforces]

« if you need to yell, do it to my face. come on. »  || Flotsam and Vicar Max || @maximuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Early Sinday Meme | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @maximuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

The more Sam thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t have all that many memories of the Vicar when he wasn’t yelling at him for being a little shit and a bastard. They were at each other’s throats so often. It seemed like some invisible force hung over them, never letting them live without tension existing between them. A constant powder keg. And the smallest sparks would set them off, snapping in each other’s faces like dogs. It wasn’t even a real issue most of the time. Sometimes they just did it because it was such a habit. Nothing they said ever stuck either, and by the end up it they were always cooling off with one of the other pressed up between them and the wall, growling into each other’s mouths, pulling at each other’s hair, panting and on the edge of release. They’d spend the night laughing softly, trading tender kisses and running their fingers through each other’s hair as they laid together, mumbling how stupid their little habit was before drifting to sleep. Wake up, rinse and repeat.

This time was no different. Max baited him to take it further and Sam didn’t disappoint. He grabbed the Vicar by the collar and slammed him into the wall, lips colliding in an unkempt mix of tongue and teeth. There were several forced growls from both before it melted into the usual routine. Flotsam felt the Vicar’s hands tangle themselves in his hair, pulling him back just enough to breathe before engaging him again. He arched his back, hands leaving his partner’s head to work at the buttons of his clothes before slipping his vestments off his shoulders, sliding them off his arms and draping them over his shoulder. The cold wall of the ship made him shiver and Sam pulled him closer, warming him with a deep blush and he kissed and bit at his neck, refreshing the fading hickies with a renewed passion and darkness to them. His low moans against the man of the cloth’s skin had him quivering ever so slightly under the Axie’s touches. He moved to help the Mythic she his own clothes, Sam gladly moving and contorting his body to assist him. When finally all their clothes had been stripped, the two found each other’s lips again and moved to their bedroom on the ship. Clothes rested carefully on the nearby chair as they collapsed into the worn cloth together.

Max returned the favor of kissing and marking up his partner’s neck, nails leaving crimson trails bodies his body as they explored each other like they did every night- as though it was the first time all over again and they wanted to leave no spot untouched, no territory unclaimed. The sounds of groans panting filled the room with an unbearable heat. It wasn’t long before it was broken by the sounds of skin slapping, aggressive hushed words, and quiet pleas growing muffled as they shoved each other’s faces into the sheets. Desperate words escaped on the edges of ecstasy, low sounds bringing them together when their bodies tensed, riding out the feeling of numerous climaxes together. Claws seemingly retracted as they held each other close. More kisses, more tender touches, and the heat died down. Sam rested with his head on Max’s chest this time, enjoying the gentle scratches his partner provided and purred lowly against his chest listening to his heartbeat. They laughed over how stupid their quarrels were, shared soft kisses and teasing words, and curled up to stay warm together, knowing full well that come tomorrow, they’d do it all over again.

[fantasmalforces]

“Get out of my face.”

“What are you gonna do, mudbelly?”

With every day came ups and downs. The idea tha today might not have been great but that tomorrow would surely hold better prospects, or at the lease the hopes and opportunities for such, was the cornerstone for many a busy man searching for some form of respite. And for many, they found the notion comforting, even if its truth was only partial at times. But not Sam. Unfortunately for the local Axie, reality was far too present and vivid for him to lose himself in the realities of a slogan on a bumper sticker. Maybe those “thoughts and prayers” type philosophy worked for others, but thoughts and prayers weren’t going to heal his wounds, or keep food on the table, or ensure he had a place to stay. God— if there even was a God— didn’t listen to him.

He wasn’t human after all.

So for him, every day didn’t bring sunshine or even the hopes of such. He spent his waking hours preparing for tomorrow’s beating, hoping to shelve it in a particular spot in his schedule. It was never a matter of if, just a matter of when. And it just so happened that today’s beat down, or at least one of them, would be overlapping with his lunch break. He knew he shouldn’t have struck first, but did it really make a difference? He was an Axie. If he didn’t start it, even if he was just defending himself, the courts would have him locked up just for the freckles on his face. He might as well have tried to win. So when he hit, he hit hard. So hard, in fact, that the other man went down and didn’t get back up.

If eyes weren’t on him before, they sure were now. And he hated that fact.

“What’re you looking at?” He snapped.

[fantasmalforces]

Daffodil: Has your character ever had unrequited love for someone? Have they ever loved someone but held it in for any reason? -> Flotsam

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Flower and Tree Asks | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

“Haven’t we all? More often than not, I’m the one getting the short end of the stick. Falling in love with complete strangers— everything about them, from the way their eyes look in the light to their smile and their laugh could have me smitten. But I know they’ll never love me back. Not just because of who I am, but what I am. Nobody wants to date a fish. I don’t bother with it anyway. In my profession, with the things I do, the problems I have, a relationship is more trouble than it’s worth. I’m always worried that the person I love will die because of me. I’ll take my chances with heartbreak before I do something stupid that gets someone else I love killed.

Like I said, whiskers and gills don’t exactly appeal to people a whole lot. I know this better than most. It’s the reason I don’t have fins or a tail anymore. It’s a reason I don’t like looking at my back in the mirror. I’ve had more than my fair share of instances where I found it better to bite my tongue than to tell someone how I feel. It’s easier to just... swallow the feelings I have. Why bother pursuing something that’ll never happen?”

[fantasmalforces]

7. to catch my muse naked || Flotsam and Vicar Max || @maximuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ USFW Prompts | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @maximuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

Flotsam’s ship wasn’t exactly a big vessel. It was meant for only one person, and considering that he and the vicar shared most everything, it wasn’t a particularly uncommon occurrence for them to run into each other less than fully clothed. After a while, it stopped be shocking and just seemed to become a normal occurrence. They’d brush it off casually with a playful “cover up, would you?” or firm smack to the ass as they passed by. Nothing out of the ordinary. Every once in a while though, it would happen when one or the other was in a mood for something a little more frisky. They’d pull each other close, run their hands over each other and collect the remaining moisture that lingered on their skin on their fingers. Lips would find lips, and that’s always how it started. Sometimes it would on the table in their dining area, sometimes in their bed if they were lucky enough to make it there. What started off as rough, form kisses between mouthing off would turn into hair pulling, biting, scratching. Enough moans and whines to last a lifetime and it would always be over far too quickly. Not this time though.

Sam was surprised by the gentleness with which Max kissed him. The way he cupped his cheeks, the way he pulled him close, wiped the warm droplets from his back as he massaged the scarred skin, pulling him into him. Sam didn’t complain though. His arms circled around the vicar, pulling him closer in a way that was just as warm and gentle. He clung to Max, not daring to utter a single negative word outside of tender praises and sincere confessions of love— something Max often had to wrangle out of Flotsam, yet under conditions such as these he often heard the words offered to him in abundance. Yet he knew Sam meant it every time he said it. Even when he was upset and didn’t dare use his words to convey it, Max knew he loved him. And she showed it well himself. He showed it in how he gathered the Axie up, carrying him to their bedroom and taking his time pressing his lips down the flesh of Sam’s front. Every kiss and brush of the vicar’s fingertips made him shiver beneath the human, watching how he muttered sloppy French and breathy English against his skin, watched as his face turned pink with delight. He moaned Max’s name over and over as his mouth sunk lowering, putting itself to good use in pleasuring him. Sam took a grip on his hair, lightly pressing him down in a silent plea for more while his hips lightly rocked back and forth into his mouth, answering his prayers with his favorite offering.

After a round like that, the two tended to find comfort in lazing with one another, curling up together on the narrow bed as they traded sweet words and took a brief break before deciding how best to pleasure each other next. And by the end of it all they knew they’d need another shower. There was no way they’d be able to sleep after all of that. Not that they complained. If they still weren’t satisfied after a few rounds in their own bed, they be able to get as filthy as they wanted to in the shower, cleaning each other each time before they had to go back to bed and drop from exhaustion. And even then, they’d sleep peacefully laying in each other’s arm.

[fantasmalforces]

🎆 (picture) -> Roman and Flotsam || @ivestasy

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Varying Ask Meme | CLOSED ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @ivestasy ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

“I wish we could pick up where we left off but... we weren’t like this when we were young. We were nothing like we are now that. The only thing that’s stayed the same is the feelings, I suppose.”

[fantasmalforces]

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Headcanon // Flotsam, Lloyd, Loofa ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

// Axies have proven themselves to be amazingly adaptable creatures, but even they have their limits. All of the trio are all capable of ingesting toxic material (ranging from overly processed foods to straight up toxic waste), their bodies are capable of sifting out toxic particles and using other absorbed chemicals to neutralize them, or at least suppress them and store the toxins in one chamber of their throat pouches to be released as repellant spray and mist. The more they ingest, the bigger their collar will puff up. However, even they have their limits. Once they reach a certain amount of toxicity, it can no longer be contained by their pouches and starts circulating their bodies instead. It may take days to notice since they regenerate so quickly, but after a while, they’ll begin to feel sick and start wretching. They can fix this by simply barfing up the chemicals and replenishing themselves well with water. The family varies in their tolerance however.

// Flotsam has the highest resistance for toxicity because of his increased exposure to it constantly in hostile environments, and through the fact he indulged in alcohol and smoking. Loofa’s is average for the species, being that she’s had no extenuating circumstances to help develop or hinder the ability. Lloyd has the weakest system for it. Because he’s untransitioned like his siblings, he never received the hormones he required to bulk up his immune system and so he’s the least able to cope with toxins he ingests.

[fantasmalforces]

“I know I’ve cause a lot of trouble, so I don’t know if I can say this, but… But if you would still be my Captain… I would be really happy.” || Vicar Max to Flotsam || @maximuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Soft Fluff Starter Drabbles | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @maximuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

The ache that Sam felt was, in itself, painfully familiar. His life had been so full of lies that he was surprised they weren’t a tangible thing— mountains made of molehills made of the words of others that simply turned out to be nothing more than just that: words. He felt like an animal in a cage, confined by the hollow promises of others, always expecting to be set free by them only to watch his wardens throw away the key every time. So when Max came along and made good on his word once, offering the wandering fish companionship, Flotsam reluctantly took the human up on his offer. He came to understand that Max would do as he said. That he was someone who could be trusted. And trusted him Sam had.

But like so many other times in his life, he realized far too late that he was being used. The illusion that he had someone he could potentially lean on, someone that he could maybe even get close to, was shattered when he realized that Max didn’t see him as an equal. He wasn’t even a captain it seemed. He was merely a means to an end. The free ride and a compass to what Max was really after, and he said as much. And Sam said that he didn’t care to have him on the ship anymore if that was the case. There was nothing to gain from a man who had so easily and so willingly stabbed him in the back. For his own safety, Max had to be let go. And so once the sought out translator was dealt with, Max returned to the ship to pack his things and Sam followed behind a while later. A long while of screaming into the wilderness and wrecking long-abandoned homes and stabbing unsuspecting, defenseless trees with his knife later. When he got back, the anger was gone. He couldn’t be bothered to feel the rage anymore. In fact, he didn’t feel anything.

He felt hollow and empty. That was the best way he could describe it. He supposed that’s exactly how tools were meant to feel once their usefulness was spent and they were cast aside like the discarded trash they were. The only remedy he could think of to help himself feel something again was to fill the void with wine. He made his way over to the kitchen, poured himself a glass, and listened to the faint sound of the vicar preparing his things for departure. The alcohol washed his innards and cooled whatever leftover heat had been simmering within him. It made him feel pained, and guilty. It wasn’t with himself either— no, he couldn’t wallow in his own sorrows for this. He was the only one to blame. Rather, he felt guilty for how quickly and how harshly he’d lashed out at Maximillian when he’d discovered what happened. And speak of the devil, the vicar was trudging along with his belongings in tow, stopping in the kitchen when he noticed Sam. He called his name, but it barely registered with how sunken into his thoughts Sam was. He looked over at Max and the two held eye contact for a moment. The air was tense, though their bodies expressed defeat. There was nothing left to argue. All that resounded now was hurt.

Sam took a breath and spoke up. He apologized, insisting he was too harsh and that he wasn’t actually planning on abandoning Max on this remote planet. He served a second drink and slid it to him as he sat down. All of what little fishy pride he had left was swallowed as he apologized. He couldn’t make eye contact, instead focusing on the deep red of his drink. He could only look up when he heard Max respond.

“I know I’ve caused a lot of trouble, so I don’t know if I can say this, but… but if you would still be my Captain… I would be really happy.” The sincerity it was spoken with was an inflection Sam had never heard in his voice before. It sounded almost timid in its very nature, and he mouth fell open slightly as he briefly caught Max’s deep brown eyes before they flickered back down toward his glass. It was hard to stomach. Nauseatingly so. It was hard for Sam to face the idea of letting something go after he’d been wronged. But he and Vicar Max had been through a lot together. They’d eaten together, explored the colony together, fought by each other’s side. And Sam would be lying if he said the vicar hadn’t grown on him in more ways than one. As hard as it felt to try and let go of the pain, it would have been infinitely harder to let go of the man.

After a long silence, a small smile quirked at Sam’s lips, but he quickly let it fall as he cleared his throat. “You can stay,” he murmured, closing his eyes to take another sip of his drink. “On one condition: going forward I want nothing but honesty from you. I catch you pulling anything like that again and I’ll drop you out of the airlock over Tartarus.”

He couldn’t see it, but he could feel Max turn back him and saw that lopsided smirk pull at a corner of his mouth.

“You have my word, Captain.”

[fantasmalforces]

"turn around" || Vicar Max and Flotsam || @maximuses

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Less Cringey USFW Intimacy Memes | ACCEPTING ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ @informousmuses ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

A devilish grin played on Sam’s face as he acknowledged the words. With tantalizing slowness, he spun around for his partner, allowing the vicar a more intimate view of his body. He was a rather lucky man after all. Sam was very private about his appearance in its entirety. Not just anyone could see him like this, much less touch all of him like Maximillian got to. He moved so that the light shined across the thin coat of sweat that was already accumulating on his skin from the heat of the moment, the highlights of well-developed muscle on his frame. Pink freckles that lined his neck and shoulders, the gills along his rib cage and the smoothness of his body. There were stray marks along his front, along his hips. The scars along his forearms. When he turned around, he breathed deeply and allowed Max to take in the many scars. The words carved into his skin, bullet wounds and blade wounds, the dark line of where his dorsal fin used to be, the mark at the end of his tailbone where his tail should have been. When Max touched the areas, Sam winced.

It didn’t hurt. It bothered him to an extent, but when Max’s other hand reached to tilt his head to look at him, he saw sincerity in his eyes. He saw warmth, comfort. He still saw love. And it made him breathe out and relax. Max presses a kiss into the crook of his neck and Sam felt his eyes roll back and slip shut as those fingers slowly worked their way across the years of hurt etched into his posterior. He was still loved, still wanted. He moaned when Max bit into his flesh, marking him with a dark hickey. Seemed that his hesitance hadn’t ruined the mood as much as he thought it had. His fingers wove right back up into Maximilian’s hair and he felt himself being pushed back onto the bed. He moaned at the vicar presses up against him, needy and greedy. Sam groaned his name out several times, knowing how much Max loved when he showed him some ��respect”. An absentminded hand reached over for the container of Spacer’s Choice lube. Collecting some on his fingers, he reached down between them, stroking the vicar as he continued to lay claim to as much of Sam’s neck as he could. An interruption in the hiring came upon feeling Sam’s touches. Mouths collided, tongues clashing as Max stiffened in his hole. He slipped away to prepare himself, mumbling at how he wished it was Max’s fingers inside him, stretching him apart and prepping him for what was coming next. Max reassured him that what was coming would be unmatched by any fingers.

Accustomed to the faint burning feeling within him, the two adjusted to better wrap around each other. Mouths disconnected as they connected somewhere lower, allowing a flood of noises to escape them as they began at a steady, if a bit rough, pace. Scratching and biting continued, taunting words exchanged for more dark marks as the bed rattled from their lovemaking. Lips were bitten, neck were dark with hickey after wet hickey. There were protests and snaps at each other, nails and teeth being put to good use between harsh panting and a never-ending stream of foul language and groaning with Sam being the main contributor. Something about the way Max moved, the things Max said, it drove him crazy. But he would never admit that. Hence why moments of intimacy such as this tended to last all night.

And last all night it would.

[fantasmalforces]

. * ･ ｡ﾟ☆ Open Starter for Flotsam ☆ ｡ﾟ･* .

“Not my kind of place.” Flotsam could practically feel the stares of the people around him burning holes into his skin. With hair like his, it was hard enough not catch attention. But once they saw the freckles, they knew what he was in an instant. The resentment was easy enough to ignore. It was the hunger in some of their eyes that bothered him. He moved closer to his new company, muttering lowly.

“Couldn’t have picked a better place to rendezvous? Or at least a less conspicuous route? Feel like I’m getting sized up for the cutting board...”