#silver claw crew

[a-master-procrastinator]

Pauletta's OC Sexyperson Tournament - Round 1, Pair 19

Maureen Crustulum (Imperial Agent)

Lorrena Jemal (side character from Silver Claw)

[writteninlunarlight-years]

How they react to you accidentally flashing them TW: AFAB reader, 18+ MDNI, Sexual Themes

Adam

You had been changing out of your exorcist gear; the training earlier that day took a toll on you. You only wanted to take a warm bath and relax your sore muscles.

However, as you began to get undressed, your excentric boss came into your room to give you more orders for the coming days of intense training.

Trying to be polite and listen to him while listening to your body's need for a warm bath, you began removing your overlayers.

You didn't account for the hoodie you wore over your gear to get stuck on your head and yank up the rest of your clothes underneath.

Much to Adam's pleasure, he got a complete view of your perky breasts covered in a silver lacey bra.

"Awww babes you shouldn't have, had I known you'd be dressing for me under all that I would have stripped you sooner."

Before realizing what was happening, you were pinned against a wall, two giant wings pinning you down and dwarfing your own wings.

You couldn't see anything but could hear the mixed panting from both of you as he rubbed and grabbed your chest, excitedly kissing your exposed collarbone.

"Oh, I am going to make you scream Bitch, you've been hiding this body out on me all this time with those baggy ass sweatshirts, and I need my fill."

Oh and did he get his fill alright, from dusk till dawn you were nothing less than a lewd screaming mess that couldn't even show up to training the next day, not even being able to take that sweet warm bath you wanted.

Alastor

You sat in the lobby, half asleep and clad in your normal crop top and shorts, watching a movie with the rest of the hotel crew. A specific Red Demon watched you from his seat.

As the movie neared it's end you stretched realizing how high your crop top rose, quickly dropping your arms down you sighed in relief noting that no one saw your bare breasts.

One man saw them and tried his best to remain calm till the others in the lobby began to scatter.

As soon as you and he were the only ones, he sitting there watching you and you opting to clean up the mess from everyone else, he pinned you to the couch.

"Doll, do you know what you do to me, showing yourself like this? My my, in my time, you would have been so scandalous to show this much off in a man's presence."

You wouldn't lie that this was one of your fantasies however you were very confused how this was happening right now, shaking your head you try to laugh it off when a clawed hand pinched your nipple.

"Don't play coy, dear. You know exactly what you did showing those perfect mounds. Hoping no one but me would see. Oh and see I did. I will have to be tasting all of you now."

He did taste you right there on the couch, Husk's bar, his designated chair, and lastly, in his room when the shadows overtook you both and landed you on his bed.

By the time morning came, what woke you up wasn't the soft throbbing in your pussy or the bruises littering your skin but the terrified Husk as your spend was still there on the bar top.

Lucifer

Clad in your bikini and Charlie readying up a water park in the front yard, you knew this would be a fun day. Lucifer also realized it would be a fun day when he saw you dressed like that.

As you talked and drank your water and other drinks out on the hotel's lawn where the water park was being held, you decided a nice, relaxed run down the water slide would be great.

Lucifer was down at the bottom, helping people up after they went down the giant slide, and he grew very excited to see you up at the top.

You took a running start and went for it however the momentum and the friction caused your top to ride up as well, by the time you ended up down where Lucifer was your tits were out and on full display for him.

Quickly, you covered up and laughed at him awkwardly, trying to hide the situation; however, his smile and deep blush led you to believe he liked the sight as much as you dreamed he would.

When the day's festivities ended, Charlie came bounding up to you and let you know Lucifer needed you in his workshop. Making your way up there, you entered wrapped in your towel, bikini underneath, to see the suit-clad man smirking at you.

"You know, after that little show you gave me, we could do another one, this one privately, where fewer people can see what will be mine."

As if realizing his words were a bit harsh, he laughed awkwardly, trying to back petal, but you smiled and dropped your towel, silencing him. Slowly, you made your way to his desk and straddled him.

This time, when you flashed him on purpose, he didn't hesitate to begin groping and massaging the mounds that you so eagerly presented to him.

"Oh, Duckie, I am going to make you a mess. Make sure everyone in the hotel knows who you belong to."

He made you a mess alright, you could barely walk with how thick his cock was, and you had to come up with some very creative excuses as to why you left his office the next day still in your bathing suit.

Husk

Husk was one of your go-to guys for casino attire, and you always dragged him into your room to help you pick out the perfect dress to distract men and make money.

As you tried on the next outfit, you thought you clasped the golden chain of the dress completely, yet as you rounded your privacy screen, your top dropped, exposing your breasts to the older man.

Squeaking and going red in the face, you quickly covered up your breasts and went back to the screen, afraid to see Husk's reaction.

You know he hated being hit on and flirted with, something he got on to Angel for constantly, so even though you loved him, you wanted to keep things low-key.

You didn't expect the low, grumbled laugh and him teasing you out from your hiding spot.

"Now, treasure, why don't you come back out and give me a real show? That was barely enough time for me to remember for later."

Your face was flushed hearing his comment, and as you peeked out from your spot, you could see him lounging out and rubbing his hand down his inner thigh close to his cock.

Slowly, you showed yourself again, letting the dress drop altogether as he whistled low and motioned you over to him. You had hoped this wasn't the alcohol making him this flirty.

"Come here and sit on my lap, baby. Explain to me why I am just now getting to see all this after all these months of cat-and-mouse we have been playing."

Nodding, you did just that, climbing onto his lap. Eventually, you began riding him slowly as you explained in detail why it took so long for him to finally have you like this.

Each time you messed up a sentence, Husk would slow down his pace and make you start over until you were just a babbling mess for the rest of the night and the next day.

Vox

You had learned of all the spots in Vee's tower where the cameras were hidden, and you wanted some privacy even if you signed 90% of it away to work with Vox.

You should have fully accounted for what would happen if you accidentally, on purpose, always made sure to change just out of view of his cameras to get him going.

However, today was an exception. You had a meeting in two minutes and needed to change from Val's required uniform to the one Vox wanted.

Speed changing, you managed to flash quite a lot to the camera, not even thinking of your placement in the room. Seeing as you were running late, you booked it to the meeting room, applying your makeup as you went.

Once you made it to the room, huffing gently, you entered to see no one but Vox at the head table. Confused, you walked in and bowed to the man.

"Oh princess, you are normally one smart broad, yet today you gave me a whole show, didn't you? I even know you don't have underwear on under that pretty blue skirt. How often do you choose to do that for me?"

Gasping, you realized your fatal flaw, yet it was too late. Vox already had you dropping to your knees and pulling your ponytail out of your hair.

Slowly, he unclasped his belt and pulled down his pants as he also unbuttoned your shirt and exposed your breasts in a dark blue bra that was intentionally chosen for him.

"Be a good girl and suck daddy off; show me how messy that half-assed makeup can get, and I will reward you with a night of my cock and stimulation."

Without having to be told twice, you were bobbing your head up and down eagerly while he massaged your breasts. What went from you making him cum down your throat turned into him pounding you.

Come morning, your schedules had been cleared, and even more cameras had been put around places you visited often. You made sure to flash Vox a few more times that month.

Prompt assistance: @literallurker

[fanaticsnail]

Will You Let Me?

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist Here

Word count: 4,500+

Synopsis: Your crew was docked at a port, exploring a new land while you requested to remain behind. Enjoying being without the unruly bunch, your momentary calm was disrupted by the staggering step of your superior. Coughs, grunts and stuttering over his words: your concern grew more severe as you offered to help him through it.

Themes: pollen!killer x gn!reader, NSFW, mdni, 18+, smut, penetration reader!receiving, swearing, dubcon, begging, pleading, apologising, bruising, crying, rough, do not read if you do not enjoy the trope, fluff at the end, semi-ooc.

Notes: first time writing gn!reader smut! I enjoyed the challenge, but forgive me if there's a word that is used incorrectly! I am still learning inclusive language.

Pollen is a fun trope to play with, but please do not read if you don't enjoy.

Apprehensive Tag List: @sordidmusings @remisloves @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @since-im-already-here @mfreedomstuff @icy-spicy

The hot sun shone over the wooden deck of the Victoria Punk. The soft waves gently rocked the boat with a subtle lull, the screech of gulls only aiding your heart to swell in merry solitude.

It was a rare occasion that you were tasked to remain behind while the crew explored a foreign area. Your skills as a linguistics specialist usually meant your silver tongue was called for to coax a good deal, or to decipher scratchings on cave walls. Considering this area was only a port meant for resupply, Captain Kid deemed your skills unnecessary for the journey in land.

Never one to complain, and genuinely giddy at the notion of being secluded and alone for a change, you jumped at the opportunity to stay with the Victoria Punk. You adored your ship, and decided to utilise the opportunity to check over her planks, ropes, and panels that may be in need for repair.

As the day went on, you did not expect a member of your crew to return so suddenly: especially the hulking masked figure of Massacre Soldier Killer. Being the first-mate, he was usually by Kid's side, no matter the circumstances.

Coughing, sneezing and sputtering: Killer’s right hand shot out to grasp your left shoulder. The firmness of his grip was bordering on painful, prompting you to wince in response to the hard strangulation of flesh.

“Something gross hit me in the face,” he strained from behind the teal and ivory mask, “Stuck in my chest and my throat. Not feeling good. Gotta-... fuck-... I gotta lie down or something.”

Concern and worry knit itself over your face, examining the staggering movement of Killer’s body as he retreated below deck. He stuttered and gripped onto the wooden beams, walls and ceiling to stabilize his movement: his body almost giving way beneath the pressure.

“Kil, do you need-,” you began, halting as his voice raised over the top of yours.

“-‘M fine. D-Don’t worry, ‘kay?” he called over his shoulder before disappearing below deck. His large figure seemed to both be inflated and deflated with a foreign paralysis in his choppy, staggered steps. The waves did nothing to sooth him in his glide throughout the halls.

As soon as he reached crew-quarters, he all but shredded his clothes and cast them away from his body. His skin was alite with violent lust, his hands moving against his will to fist, claw and paw at the erogenous zones of his torso, stomach, legs, and his puckered nipples.

He arched his back as his hands gripped the base of his already steel-like cock, immediately pumping it in his right fist. His left hand clawed at the flesh of his chest and lay flat over his heart as he felt the rise in fluttered rapidity.

Scraping and gripping downwards with his left hand, he pushed hard on the base of his stomach, feeling how tightly wound the banded coil was wound in the pit of his stomach: bound hard enough to snap. Every muscle was tense, firm and aching for relief. He began sniffling and sobbing behind his mask, never truly experiencing the shame in the desperation his body was craving before.

He was the only one who managed to not avoid the hessian bag of powdered flowers falling from the rooftop of the naturopathic remedy building. Apologetic calls echoed down from the roof before panic began to rise in the workers. Killer could scarcely process voices above the throbbing ache in his lower abdomen.

Barely hearing several repetitions of Kid’s voice calling: “Killer, are you alright? Kil, are you alright?” All Killer could do was splutter and cough through the burning in his chest.

Golden flecks danced over his eyes beneath the mask, the pollen sucked immediately through the holes and embedded several clusters within the circular orifices. No matter how many times he wiped at the mask with his hands, he continued to inhale the sticky-sweet smell of herbal flowers within deep gulps of his lungs.

“Get him back home!” a hushed voice hurriedly spat at Captain Kid, “He needs a companion, someone to take care of him while he's going through this. Someone caring and kind enough to-.”

“-Don't tell me what to do! Kil, you know the way back to the ship from here?” Kid’s voice barked at Killer, prompting the blonde to spark a moment of clarity in his progressingly foggy mind, “The linguist is back there. They'll take care of ya’ if ya’ need it, okay?”

“Okay,” Killer managed to stutter out, his body scorching hot and violently in need.

“Okay!” Kid parrotted back, looking at the shopkeeper, “Okay, great. Now that's settled, we need a couple things from you. Let's get that sorted before-."

As Killer continued fisting at his cock, he felt release on the tip of his tongue. His eyes were scrunched tightly shut and his lips were parted wide. Unbeknownst to him, each time he panted through his heavy inhales and exhales; more of the toxic pollen punctured his lungs and poisoned his bloodstream with arousal.

He was consumed with lust, a beast untamed and unbridled. There was no release for him, no relief that came thereafter. He was isolated, confused, scared and manic. He needed something, someone, anyone-.

“-No,” Killer spoke aloud in a strangled whisper, “Not anyone. I need the linguist. I n-need-... fuck-... I need my linguist. Where i-is my linguist?”

Continuing about your task of ensuring all of the ropes were properly coiled and laid, your heart began to pang with guilt. You decided to cast aside all further self-induced tasks and seek out the first-mate you serve beside, attempting to offer him comfort through his illness. He seemed so adamant about isolation, but you felt called to be by his side.

Venturing below deck, his painful strain of wanton moans called to you. Muffled groans of pain exhumed from the room, cries of anguish falling through the door. Your deepest sympathies clawed at you to push through the door. Your hand hesitated it's rise against the wooden panel, your body almost walking away before you heard a gentle and heartfelt cry of your name falling from Killers lips.

“I-If you're there,” Killer’s voice again called for you, “Please come in. Please,” he chanted your name with a soft, strangled moan, “Please. I need you.”

Immediately, your body moved against your will. Twisting the knob to crew quarters, you swung the door wide and was immediately met with the sight of your first mate: glistening in beads of sweat and shed of all but his teal and ivory face covering, and viciously pulling at his cock.

“Killer! Why did you tell me to come in if you were doing that?” you shouted in a harsh whisper, immediately slamming the door shut behind you and scrunching your eyes tightly shut, “I don't want to watch that!”

Thick silence aside from the cruel pistoning of his firm hand slapping against his lower stimach engulfed the air. Soft huffs of muffled pants escaped gritted teeth, Killer's mask doing the heavy lifting in silencing his cries for you.

“I don't want you to watch,” Killer confessed in a soft, breathy whine, “Please don't watch,” he keened for you, “Participate.”

“Killer!” you shot over your shoulder at him with a warning tone, “What are you-?”

“-I would never a-ask if I didn't-...” He trained off in a strangled whimper, desperately clenching down on his tongue with his teeth and biting back his needy sobs, “...I-I need you. I need you. Only you.”

“Kil,” you sighed at him, your concern written over you'd face, “Have you taken something? Was it the gross thing from earlier? Did that have an effect on you? Like a drug-?”

“-Look at me,” a barked command exited the holes in the mask, “Please, look at me,” he pleaded, gasping as he grasped at his cock, fisting the flesh and whimpering as he was brought to the brink of ecstacy once again, “Just look at me, please. I just need your eyes on me. Eyes on me.”

“Killer,” you whimpered, finally turning to face him. As soon as your eyes met with the icy stare beneath his mask, you were entranced. Your body propelled you against forward, called to serve the needs of the first mate in a hypnotic trance.

“I need you,” he sobbed, reaching for you with his left hand as his right continued beating his weeping cock, “Only you. Please, let me have you?”

Your body continued reacting against your will, your brain becoming foggy as Killer’s lust thickened the air with all-consuming need. Shame coursed just as heavily throughout your body as the arousal at just the thought of taking Killer’s cock into you began coursing through your veins.

“Please,” he whined, his eyes holding your own as you stripped yourself of your clothes, “Please,” his lips spilt as you straddled his lap, “Please,” as you immediately began sinking yourself down over the tip of his knob.

His precum did little to prepare you your your descent, focussing on your wanton need to have him within you to open your body up to receive him. Killer moaned your name, crying out with baited breath as you slowly consumed all of his length with the grip of your tight hole.

As soon as he felt your heat take his entire length, he was already a babbling mess. There was no strings of cohesive thought as his length became strangled within your tight center. He immediately began shooting your body full of ropes of thick release, ribbon after ribbon of his pale translucent ecstasy.

He cried out for you in warning before painting your walls white with his sticky cum. The pearly beads of his lust coated your tight hole immediately, strings of praise falling from his lips as he rode through his high with you fully impaled on his thick cock.

But he remained firm, hard and desperate for more.

“Wha-...” he began, his understanding of his own arousal and relief not aiding him in the slightest as he thrust up into you. He moaned as he sheathed his lengthy shaft deep within you again, your own arousal now taking over as you started to roll your hips against him while sat fully engulfed by him.

“Killer, what's going on?” you questioned him, your confusion and worry knit on your face, “You're s-still hard.”

“I-I am,” he confirmed, a soft mewl of bliss echoed beneath his mask as he rolled his hips up into you, “What’s happening to me?”

His hands found your hips, rocking you above him as he began feeling another wave of need course through his veins. As his hands embedded into your hips, you winced at the sting. His strength depicted in his grasp, gripping you like a lifeline anchoring himself to the world surrounding him.

He tried.

He tried so hard to be gentle.

He wanted to be gentle for you. Needed to be gentle for you.

But his grip turned sinister, turned brutal and unforgiving as he thrust up into you. His end was coming to a close as he chased it with you writhing and pleading on his lap. His desperation enticed him to continue bullying your tight center with vicious snaps of his bruising slaps.

“Kil,” you called for him, feeling his cock touch a depth within you that had your back arching and mewling for him, “Oh, Kil. I'm close.”

“Please,” he begged, desperately thrusting up into your lap as his end stampeded before his eyes, “Please cum. Please. N-Need it.”

“Killer,” you called for him, feeling the band weave ever tighter within your abdomen, spiraling and coiling within the pit of your stomach, “Kil I'm gonna-.”

“-Oh, fuck!” he roared, his body immediately betraying him as he coated your insides with ropes of hot, sticky, and heavy cum for the second time. His balls sucked up inside his body, his entire being screaming in relief as his release was once again began satisfying his unbridled lust for you.

But his cock still remained firm.

Your eyes clenched firmly shut, the corners wincing at the slight pinch as the coil snapped deep within you. White-hot ecstacy coursed through your veins, your body releasing your bliss over yours, and Killers, bodies as you rode through your high seated on his lap.

His hands were firm, rocking you atop him with a guiding, harsh rhythm as you called his name. Your whole being was alight with passion, your eyes now opening and looking down at the man beneath you.

Killer didn't realize it until he felt his eyes roll back in his skull, his body immediately ushered into a third orgasm as your body milked him with the rhythmic thumps of your warm orgasm. But he still remained firm, hard and needy. He inhaled a deep, shaky breath: particles of pollen immediately spiraling in a cylindrical vacuum deep into his lungs.

“I c-can’t,” Killer called for you, immediately grappling you in his arms. He threw you beneath him, his vice-grip clawing at your hips as he pummeled down into your body, “I can't stop, I can't stop, I can't stop.”

You bit back a whimper, your body barely recovering from the prior spend of your hot release. Overstimulated, ill-prepared and encumbered with your new task at hand: Massacre Soldier Killer never let up. Not even for a moment.

In fact, he only got more intense, ferocious and brutal the moment your body began to milk his cock.

“P-Please know I'm sorry,” he choked out a strangled whimper. His fingers ached with the intensity he was gripping onto you with, leaving punctures of purple intents over your hip bones due to the butality he was burrowing into you.

“O-Oh fuck,” you sucked in your bottom lip, biting down hard as the corners of your eyes began pricking with tears, “It's okay, it's okay. I know. I can t-take it.”

You spoke through those words of confirmation, truly attempting to convince yourself of the ability to endure this rough treatment for as long as Killer needed to use your body for. Rough slaps of his hips smacked against your body, his veiny cock scraping itself through your body as his knob hit angles you didn't realize you could experience. It would equate to bliss if his grip wasn't so intense.

Excruciating agony and white-hot ecstacy were in a perfect marriage within your body beneath the hulking form of Massacre Soldier Killer. The harmonious entanglement driven further by the grunts, growls, roars from the man above you, only for them to turn into begging whimpers and pleas for you to endure just a moment longer.

“I kn-know this isn't-... f-fucking nnghm-... this isn't g-good for you,” his breathy whisper cut through his growls like a pick through ice, “I can't stop. I can't fucking stop.”

“It's okay, Kil. I p-promise it's okay,” you grit your teeth as his grip intensified on your hips, "You're good. You're b-being so good." His rhythm was unforgiving, the pace and rate his body rut into you was tormenting, brutal and punishing.

This was not the first-mate you knew. The beast in his stead was as violent as Killer was in battle, ripping bones and slashing through flesh. This was not at all what you anticipated from aiding Killer through this feat of lust.

His desperation was abhorrent, something he was repulsed by. He never dreamed of joining his body with yours in this strenuous and savage manner. He wanted to be kind, always kind, only ever kind, should you grant him the access to you he so desperately longed for from afar.

Softly spoken, dutiful and almost loving. That's who you knew him to be, and that's who he wanted to be for you. Your friend, your comrade in arms, your senior serving crewmate who you trusted to have your back.

How would you ever trust him again after this? How could he ever trust himself? That push and pull of chasing his relief with you caged beneath him coincided with the tug of his heart and the fog of his mind. He wants you to trust him after this. He wants you to look him in the eye and tell him you still want him. He needed that from you; the confirmation this was not only simply for now, but something he could have once again.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” he sobbed into your neck, the cool surface of his mask grounded you. Huffs of his breath poked through the holes in his mask, his icy-blue eyes were scrunched tightly shut while his body remained alight like a beacon in darkness.

He had already reached his climax three times, shooting burst after burst of his sticky cum deep within you. Although relief was found immediately afterwards, his cock continued to remain stiff as the steel of a blade in a snow storm.

He just couldn't stop. Why couldn't he stop?

“Kil, I-I think you n-need-... ahh,” you mewled as he moved his hands up to your waist, his broad fingers splayed out to perch like a bird of prey against your skin. He rammed his full length in and out, your stomach beginning to ache with the bulge protruding deep within your abdomen.

“N-Need you,” he groaned in your ear, his hips stapling you against the floor with each cruel slap, “Need to keep going. Almost th-there again.”

“I know, Kil. I know,” you soothed his hair in your hands, trails of wet tears streaked your cheeks with how much sensations your body was taking, “Take what you need, I'm here.”

“I’m gonna-... I'm gonna- f-fuck. I'm gonna cum again,” he groaned deep within his mask, his voice picking up at the end in a small shuddery whimper, “Oh fuck, oh fuck. I'm cumming.”

Your head rolled back, eyes wide as you felt him empty himself within you for a fourth time. The sticky splashback of his hot cum trickled out of your needy hole, his cock buried up to the hilt with his spend leaking over his pubic hair and thighs. He huffed against your shoulder, his mask almost becoming loose over his face as he recovered.

“Good boy,” you cooed at him, pressing a soft kiss onto his bare shoulder as he shuddered and shook through his fourth spurt of ecstacy, “Good boy, Kil. Get it all out.” His cock twitched at your title bestowment, the hardness of his steely cock refusing to deflate no matter the amount of release he pumped into you.

“I-It’s not going down,” he whimpered into you, his hips beginning to roll against yours once more, “It's not going down. I don't know what to do,” his sobs began to shake at his shoulders.

“It's okay,” you winced out, feeling the heat of release exiting from your overspent body with ooze of fluid, “I-I think you need to take your mask off.”

“Wh-What?” he gasped at you, his hands continuing to hold you firmly against the mattress of his bed, “The mask off?”

“Some-... fuck, Kil-... something hit you in the face, ri-right?” your voice was several notes higher than your usual cadence, crying beneath him as he pummeled into you, “Might be still in your mask. Take it off. I'll close my eyes, I'll not tell a soul,” you winced, clamping your eyes tightly shut, “I'll be good. I'll tell no-one.”

Killer immediately halted his thrusting, his body in momentary stasis as your words reached him. His body screamed at him to keep going, to keep pummeling into you, to keep chasing his high that was just within reach. But he stopped, his cock sheathed deep within you.

“Look at me,” he purred down at you, his hands still firm on your waist. His grip grasped you tighter, misbehaving beneath Killer's pleading to hold you more gently.

Unclenching your scrunched eyes, you gazed up at him as his hands left your body and unclasped the mask from shrouding his face. Icy blue eyes, as pale as the sky and as deep as the ocean pierced you as his gaze met with yours. Your breath was stolen from within your lungs, choking back on your surprise at his appearance.

Massacre Soldier Killer was beautiful.

“Look up at m-me,” he stammered, his hips rolling against yours as his cock burrowed deep within your body, “Look at me. I n-need you to see me. I need you to see how desperately I need you.”

His eyelashes fluttered, his eyelids growing heavy as his rhythmic thrusts began to pick up their intensity. Your eyes never left his for a moment: not to look at his lips, not his beard, nor his angular cheekbones, nor his nose. His eyes were what captivated you most, holding you hostage as their glassy hue glazed over to chase his high within you.

“Y-You were right,” he huffed between thrusts, “My lungs aren't burning, and I-I think this is it. Th-This one is it.” His pace was excruciating, but the satisfaction you were beginning to feel build itself within you screamed at you to let him continue using you.

“You can do it, Kil,” you rolled your hips to match his pace, staring up through half-hooded lashes into his eyes, “Use me. Take me, I'm yours.”

“You're mine,” he moaned his growling voice down at you, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against your neck, “Perfect for me. Made for me.” His cock twitched deep within you, your body reacting to his needy chase and toppling over with his final release.

“F-Fuck, Kil!” you cried, your body beginning to throb, your thumps of bliss coaxing Killers balls to empty deep within, “I-I’m-... I’m cumming. Killer, I'm cumming!”

“Cum with me, cum with m-me,” he begged, his pace picking up as his cock finally began weeping it's spend for the fifth time deep within you, “With me. F-Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Pants of breath, fluttering of elevated heartbeats and joint cries of bliss ricocheted off the wooden walls of the crew-quarters of the Victoria Punk. Killer's mask lay discarded beside the door, lulling in the subtle rock of the waves over the floorboards as you both fell away from your mutual highs.

Killer moved his head away from your shoulder, gazing down to where your bodies remained joined together in awe. His lips were agape, his eyelashes fluttering as he pulled himself away from you. Watching the floodgates open from your abused entrance, your mutual juices coating both of your stomachs, thighs and soaking the mattress beneath you.

Killer looked to your hips, his lips parting and eyes becoming teary as he noticed the damage showcased on your body.

Marks littered your skin, deep hues of purple branded your flesh, depicting Killer's unrestrained lust and need for you. His bliss was eclipsed by deep sorrow as his fingers gently caressed the elevated indents in your skin. Sensing his unease, you immediately flung your hands up and collected his cheeks in your palms.

“I can handle it,” your eyes searched his, looking between his deep, blue orbs with your eyes only depicting support and affection, “I wouldn't have let you do it if I couldn't handle it.”

Killer turned his head, his lips meeting your palm with his whiskered chin tickling your flesh. This small moment of affection felt more sacred, more secret, and more intimate than the emassment of bodily fluids you shared moments prior.

“I shouldn't have been so rough with you,” he scolded himself, “I will never be rough with you again.” His fingertips caressed your hips, soothing over your aching flesh and wordlessly apologizing with deep, intentional touches.

“Are you feeling okay, Kil?” you asked him, lazily cocking your head to the side, “Don't need to go again?”

“Fuck, no,” he huffed through a small, squeak of laughter, “Not right now, at least.”

Smiling up at him, you propped yourself up on your elbows and gazed deeply into his eyes. You couldn't get enough of the luxury it was to gawk at the handsome man who just spent himself within you five times in consecutive succession.

He truly was beautiful.

“Does that mean you want to do this again?” you asked him while attempting to not show how eager you were. You began taking your time to examine his muscular physique before snapping your eyes back up to his blue orbs. A red hue tinted his cheeks, his eyes darting around the room before rejoining your own.

“I would like to, yes,” Killer admitted at last, sucking in a breath as he anticipated your refusal. Your smile spread up your face, prompting you to immediately spring yourself up to meet his body with your own.

“Crew’s still out for a while,” you shrugged, looking around the crew-quarters you had both tainted with the stains of your aroused fluids, “We should clean this up,” you drew your eyes up to meet his, coy and bashful, “And maybe we could have a bath together-?”

“-Please,” he spoke over you, far too quickly for his liking but too lost to hold back the floodgates of emotional excitement, “Let me bathe with you. I'll wash your hair, massage your body. I'll make sure you're so, so spoiled after all this, if you'll let me?”

A small squeal of joy found its way to your lips, buzzing at the notion that he not only wants to be with you again physically, but he desired to treat you to the luxury of continuing to gawk at his uncovered face further by bathing with you.

“Will you let me?” Killer asked, his voice still holding that eager anticipation that caused you to both melt and soar in unison. You eagerly nodded, prompting Killer to hook his arms beneath you and elevate you into his chest.

Your fingers quickly drew themselves up to his lengthy blonde hair, detangling the sweat-damp strands and toying with the soft curls framing his face. You hummed in contentment as his smile freed itself on his face, glancing at you as you continued enjoying his luscious, thick locks.

“Let's go then,” he cooed down at you, his lips finding your forehead as he cradled you against him, “Let me spoil you for being so good to me. I need to treat you right.”

“Don't forget your mask!” you quickly uttered, causing him to pause and search your face for clarification. You smiled at him, gently reaching your lips up to press against his cheek, “Gotta clean the damn thing, unless you want to experience all that again?”

“Good point,” he huffed, using his feet to kick along his mask to the bathroom as he chaperoned you within his arms, “I prefer my own desire to come from me,” he confessed as soon as he reached the door, “And I want to show you how much I truly do desire you.”

“I can't wait,” you smiled in return, wincing as your body’s adrenaline seeped out of your body and the pain caught up to you.

“I promise I'll be gentle with you,” he confessed, his eyes innocent and brows triangulating in a peak in the center of his forehead, “I won't be rough.”

“I can take a bit of rough treatment,” you challenged him in return, smiling into his bare chest as he began to run the bath.

“I know you can,” he smiled down at you, pressing a small kiss against your temple, “But you don't have to, unless you really want to.”

[zarnzarn]

1/2/3/4

reverse Odyssey au where polites is still on the ships when Poseidon arrives, and that last bit is enough to push Odysseus to beg him to stop, to spare the men he spent ten long years fighting hard and bitter to save. 593 men is no less amount after all, not for a small island like Ithaca, only three generations old. he'll do anything, anything at all, blind him, torture him, kill him- just let his men go; they were not the ones to blame.

Poseidon considers, staring down at the king with the odd grey eyes that he knew the origin of. Athena would be furious, after all- so why not take away the one thing her favoured pet was known for?

the crew rushes towards their captain, their king, as shouting emerges from the other boats, as he hits the deck convulsing, grasping at his throat. the cries of his men rend the air as his legs melt into oceanspray, remerging as a fish's tail, Odysseus gasping for air wildly, his tongue a mess of mangled flesh on the main deck, unable to talk or breathe.

they have no choice but to pick him up and tip him into the sea, and they watch in horror as he falls beneath the waves and with a flick of the tail, disappears.

six hundred men chase their king down, following the odd silver glint that appears once in a while above the blue water, following the strange cursed monster that Elepnor sees when he falls drunk into the ocean one day. follow him all the way back to Ithaca, where the people gather on the shore to cheer their arrival.

telemachus is all of ten and untameable at the return of his father's ships, running past the guards and the priests to the dock, where the soldiers and heroes are all setting down the ramps, strangely quiet, unsmiling in the face of ten years of gore and bloodshed being done. Penelope catches up to him, laughing as she cranes her head up, scanning the ships to see which one- which one had-

she only has to time to see euroluchus' shame-filled tears and polites guilty devastation, feeling her heart slowly sink to the ground, when there's suddenly a splash and an outburst of screams and propped up on the dock is a man with a fish's tail and familiar curls and razor-sharp teeth and eyes that are solid grey. the soldiers cry out in horror and thunder down the ramps to them as the monster reaches out- and Penelope can't do anything, frozen, as it reaches out and places a webbed hand with deadly claws on her son's cheek, caressing almost; and her breath catches when it looks back up to her, and she knows the face as well as her own, knows the grief and fear and knows it is her husband-

Then the pounding footsteps from the closest ships and the guards behind reach them, and Penelope only has time enough to scream to stay their weapons, already shoving Telemachus behind her and reaching out to shield off any spears or arrows from battle-strung men who'd shoot first and ask questions later-

Instead she only feels the brush of cold skin under his fingertips for the briefest of moments and then she's caught up in a fisher's net, tangled and alone. More nets are thrown, men crying out for their captain with desperation and fear, Polites running straight past her and leaping off the dock to swim after him-

But her husband is a descendant of Hermes, and Odysseus is gone.

Penelope listens to the story that night and does not cry, sitting straight-backed in the face of her family sobbing around her, of the five hundred and ninety-three men staring at her with grief and guilt alike, of being the only widow in the kingdom. Pets Telemachus' wild hair and remembers his father's, and thinks.

"You have told me much," She says finally. "But I'm still to hear a single, solid plan."

The room rustles as all the heads swing to her.

"Plan?" Eurylochus says finally. Anger burns as soon she looks to him, but she pushes it down firmly- rage will not win her anything.

"Yes. A plan," she says, "To bring my husband back home."

Telemachus unfolds at her feet and stares up at her with a hopeful grin, echoed slowly on the faces of the men around the room. Penelope smiles back.

"My husband spent ten years fighting for his people to make it back home," She proclaims. "Let's wait at least that long before we give up on him, yes?"

The answering cheer shakes the walls of the palace and echoes through the streets of Ithaca.

[tojisun]

cw: dark!141; theyre pirates so yk; f!mer!reader; third person pov (through soap)

johnny didn’t know what he had been expecting when the ship pulled a mer from the depths of the sea, struck down by their harpoon and snatched like war trophy, but it wasn’t this.

translucent tail and gils, almost milky now that they’re stark against the ship’s floor. she’s got webbing between her fingers too, nails so sharp and long which made for a surprising gift when she lunged and clawed a full stretch on simon’s face, leaving their second-in-command a bloodied mess. he’d grinned though, and spat the blood that pooled in his mouth beside the mer, before sneering at the thing because they know she wouldn’t leave unscathed.

nae, the lass wouldn’t even be able to imagine a way to escape.

but still, in the silence, now that the mer was left to flounder, arms bound and tail bleeding, they can now enjoy the view she makes.

and what a view she is. she looks like a beast, angry and yowling, long hair spilling over like a waterfall. she isn’t the first their crew has ever captured—princesses and singers, all with pearls or shells refined in ways humans could never replicate, as well as with things stolen from the ocean floor like bands of gold or silver—but this one. this one is fiery. spitting and lashing out with experience, contorting her gifts to land a hit that was unpredictable. simon would get to relay the story to everyone who would come and beg; he would tell anyone the day a spitfire mer had clawed the second-in-command of the griffon; he would tell anyone how he bled and, in retaliation, took her claws as his trophy.

her body is rigid and strong—a warrior’s gait—and it is beautiful. unimaginably so. she had nothing but a braided kelp strapped to her waist where a jagged dagger was sheathed. later, kyle would claim that for himself and they’d find that it was a bone chipped away until made sharp. kyle would see its calcification and know that this once belonged to a human.

her blood is red but it is viscous, and against her translucent tail and gills, they looked like spilled rubies. she heaves, bare body a marvel even when it is shrouded by their flickering lamps; muscles locking, shifting underneath skin, and johnny watches raptly as even her tail flexes. he’s seen one underneath the glamour before, when it was all flesh and ripped apart, but to see it flutter with every of her rasps was something else.

her beauty is endless.

the water crashes against their ship and only their captain manages to breathe back awake. he barks out orders, calling to set sail south, changing course, because no one would want to gamble a war with this mer’s pod. as for her—

“take ‘er to my cabin,” captain john purrs. “a fine display, no?”

[lookingforariaa]

Attack On Titan: Actor AU ᝰ.ᐟ

ᯓ★ From the very first "Attack on Titan" table read, Eren Jaeger and Y/N L/N been locked in a personal war. They had hated each other, for their own personal reasons. But, now, fate (or the writers) had dealt them a cruel hand: their characters, the series' central love interests, were about to share their first intimate scene. actor!eren x actress!reader

Ensconced in the makeup chair, you flipped through the script with practiced ease. Your brow furrowed in concentration as you absorbed the scene directions and drilled the lines for today's shoot into your memory.

If 13 year old you thought it was bad enough having to share your first kiss with Eren Jaeger at the end of the season 2 finale with a bunch of camera's pointed at you, she would probably want to kill herself for this scene.

Smiles were plastered on for fans, talk show appearances, the whole nine yards. But everyone on set knew the hatred simmering beneath the surface between Eren and you. But your reasons for the animosity ran deeper than just hating him for the funsies.

You'd always bristled at entitled people like Eren Yeager. His producer father had undoubtedly greased the wheels for his leading role alongside you. He hadn't earned it like everyone in this series had, and he had gotten one of the leading roles in the series.

It wasn't fair. The rich always win.

The first table read had confirmed your worst fears. You had extended a friendly hand, introducing yourself as his love interest and the second leading role in the series.

Eren's response? A dismissive scoff and a head-to-toe sweep that spoke volumes. That self-satisfied smirk ignited a fire in your gut. People like him, who waltzed into success on silver platters, were everything you weren't. You'd clawed your way up, and his arrogance was a slap in the face to everything you'd achieve

The hatred towards Eren only intensified on the first filming day. His arrogance wasn't confined to you. He barked orders at crew members and treated his assistant like an indentured servant. Your blood pressure skyrocketed.

These were people, not props for his entitled performance.

He treated them like they weren't human.

The scene triggered a raw nerve. You knew all too well the sting of dehumanization. The humiliation. Your mother was a single parent forced into sex work to keep a roof over your head. Even if you lived in a brothel full of sex workers, you didn't ask god for anything else other than to get your mom another job.

You had watched your mom try her best to hide you from the men coming in so you wouldn't have to fall into the hands of prostitution as well. The way those men treated her - a flicker of desire followed by callous dismissal, like a discarded rag.

Like she wasn't even worthy enough to be called a human.

You had clawed your way out. Your striking features - the cascading dark blonde hair and the mesmerising hazel eyes and amazing acting skills - were your ticket to this role, a chance to give your mother a life she deserved.

Seeing Eren was like looking into a mirror of your traumatic past, seeing your mom thrashed around like an object.

Blinking back the sleep in your eyes after having drinks with Sasha the entire night, the scripts pages wavered in your hands, the words blurring at the edges.

Sasha's death still felt unreal. You'd sought solace in her company after they killed her character, clinging to the real Sasha for as long as possible.

A yawn stretched your lips into a wide, ungainly shape. The gentle hum of the hair curlers and the soft touch of the makeup brushes did little to dispel the exhaustion clinging to you like a second skin.

The last layer of blush being applied felt strangely cool against your warm cheeks. You lowered your heavy lashes as they started applying a gentle layer of mascara to your makeup as the finishing touch.

The problem with Attack On Titan was the fact that all the makeup had to look natural. But at the same time all the girls, especially you and Mikasa, had to look beautiful.

Which wasn't hard, because both of you were drop dead gorgeous. But both of you were too humble to ever admit it out loud.

You skimmed through the script one last time as the Matt, your gay best friend who mostly does your hair, brushes them out slightly to make them look more natural.

Perfect," he sighed dramatically, a playful smile on his face. "Ready for today's shoot?"

You rolled your eyes, a groan escaping your lips. "Absolutely not."

"Yeah, figured," Matt chuckled. "t's funny honestly. Do you actually have to ride his thigh? God, the writers hate you."

"Oh shut up!" You scoffed, slapping his arm with your script as you looked a laughing Matt through the mirror.

"Okay, come on, they're asking for you."

"Tell them I'll be right out."

The director barked out his final instructions, taking help from Isayama as his gaze flickering between you and Eren.

Both of you stood with arms crossed and brows furrowed, listening carefully to the director and Isayam. Eren, clad in his iconic faded green shirt and a the black jacket over it.

While you wore a white button-up strained slightly against your chest, the small black corset tied right beneath your chest emphasizing your hourglass figure beneath it.

"So, remember, Y/N you hate him in this scene, you despise him." The director emphasized, looking down at the script.

"Yeah, that's gonna be easy to act out." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Eren smirked, leaning down for his mouth to reach your ear. "Don't forget what scene we're filming." His breath tickled your ear. You didn't know what sent the chills down your spine-- his mouth being so close to your ear, or the fact that he was referring to how you had absolutely no control in this scene.

The director clapped his hands, snapping you and Eren out of your silent standoff. You cleared your throat, forcing your attention away from the infuriating green shirt and towards the man barking orders.

"Y/N," he said, pointing at you, "when you say, 'So you're going to kill billions of people for what?!' I want a reaction. Fling your arms wide, like you're trying to grasp the weight of those lives. Let your anger crackle in your eyes, burning into Eren as you demand an answer." You nodded.

His gaze shifted to Eren, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Eren, when you deliver the line, 'For you,' I want hesitation. Let out a sigh that speaks volumes. Run your hand through your hair, whatever. Turn away, build the drama. Then, do a dramatic turn around back towards Y/N, unleashing that scream with every ounce of conviction you have. Got it?"

Eren nodded understandingly, pursing his lips. "Got it."

"Great! Let's get this scene rolling!" The director boomed, clapping his hands. A flurry of activity followed as the set crew started getting the prison set ready for filming, fixing any minor misplaces in it.

You and Eren stood by, the tension crackling between you like live wires. Within minutes, the set was prepped, the harsh overhead lights casting stark shadows on the fabricated brick walls. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the emotional rollercoaster about to unfold.

"Scene 27, take 1."

"Lights," The director sighed, "Cameras." He pointed, "And.. action!"

The sterile light glinted off the metal bars, casting a harsh glow on the tense scene unfolding. You stood across from Eren, your voice laced with barely contained fury

"I know what I'm doing," you spat, the words sharp as shards of ice. "But do you, Eren? Do you have any goddamn clue what you're doing?!"

Eren was positioned before a cracked mirror, avoided your gaze. His knuckles tightened around the chipped porcelain sink, the strain evident in his posture. A sigh, heavy and laced with despair, escaped his lips as he stared down at his clenched fists.

"Yeah," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah?" you shrieked, disbelief and frustration clawing at your throat. "Because from where I'm standing, it doesn't seem like a single thought has crossed that thick skull of yours!"

Your hands flew to your hair, tugging at the strands in agitation. Frustration boiled over, and you flung your arms wide, the metal cot scraping against the wall with a jarring clang

"Eren!" you roared, your voice echoing off the cold stone walls. "You're about to make billions die at the hands of a horrifying death! And for what?!"

Eren remained silent, his back a rigid wall against your onslaught. A shaky breath escaped him, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth seemed ready to shatter. Slowly, he raised his hand, running it through his hair in a gesture of defeat. His eyes, half-lidded and shadowed, flickered towards his reflection in the mirror, a flicker of something akin to shame crossing his features.

Then, with a dramatic flourish, he spun around, his voice laced with a desperate conviction that bordered on hysteria.

"For you!" he screamed, the words echoing through the cell. But as quickly as the outburst erupted, it died down. A defeated sigh escaped his lips, and he repeated the words, this time a mere whisper, "For you..." His half lidded eyes met yours.

"Well, that's fucking stupid!" You screamed out.

"Cut!" You furrowed your eyebrows and turned your head back to the director. "Y/N! Your resolve breaks for a second, okay? You still love him deep down and when he looks at you like that your heart aches." The director says, clutching at his own heart to emphasise. "So wait for a second, show emotion, and then say the stupid line."

"Idiot." Eren muttered under his breath, loud enough for you to hear.

"Okay, got it. Everything else was fine?" You asked, ignoring his comment.

"Yeah." The director responded, "Let's take it again from Eren's line."

"Scene 27, take 2."

"Lights, camera.. action!"

Eren sighs once more, "For you.."

A tremor ran through your composure. Your eyelids fluttered shut for a brief moment, a shaky breath escaping your lips. When your eyes reopened, the anger had returned, but it felt brittle, tinged with a flicker of something else - confusion, maybe even a hint of pain. It was a fleeting glimpse, quickly masked by the familiar fury

"Well that's.. that's fucking stupid!" You stammered, trying to showcase your characters resolve breaking.

"Is it?! I think it's fucking stupid that you aren't understanding that Marley wants to take you so you can make pure royal blooded babies with my brother so they can take the founding titan easily!" Eren roared, turning back to you.

"Babies?" The word hung in the air, a foreign concept amidst the weight of Eren's plan. The anger you wielded began to crumble at the edges.

A shaky laugh escaped you, a humorless sound that echoed off the cold stone walls. "Is that it, Eren? All this so I don't sleep with your fucking brother?!"

Eren's jaw clenched tight. He ran his hands through his hair again, his voice laced with a desperate edge. "You aren't fucking getting it! They'll use you, Y/N! Turn you into a breeding machine for their twisted agenda and then kill you! This way, at least you're..." His voice trailed off, the defiance flickering for a moment.

"Atleast i'm what? Safe? You fucking sociopath! You're killing all these people for one person?!"

"Shut up."

"That's what you are.. a murderer, a psychopath!"

"Shut the fuck up." He growled, grabbing you by your neck and pushing you against the wall, choking you slightly. The camera followed both of you in kind.

You smiled, scoffing. "Or what? You'll kill me?"

He choked you harder, making you stretch your neck up as you whimpered slightly.

"I told you to shut the fuck up."

"Make me."

A tense silence stretched between you, punctuated only by the ragged rasp of your breath. Disgust simmered in your eyes, a mirror image of the icy loathing reflected back from Eren. The space between you crackled with unspoken hostility

He was supposed to kiss you now, but you were glad he wasn't, otherwise you might've barfed in his mouth. He looked at you with the same expression etched on his face: disgust.

"Cut!" The director yelled out and Eren rolled his eyes, sighing as he released your neck and immediately walked away from you.

The director slammed his script down, the sound echoing through the soundstage. "Alright, what's going on here? You two are supposed to be passionately making out, not glaring at each other like you're about to duel."

Eren scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe that's the point. Maybe our characters wouldn't actually kiss in this situation."

You crossed your arms, your eyes narrowing. "Oh, and why wouldn't they? Because your fragile ego can't handle kissing someone who doesn't fawn over you?"

Eren's smirk vanished, replaced by a cold stare. "Funny you should mention ego. It takes a certain level of delusion to think anyone would be interested in someone who constantly reeks of desperation."

You bristled. "Desperation? At least I earned this role on my own merit, unlike some nepo baby." You smirked. "At least I don't need a daddy with a fat wallet to buy my way into a role."

Eren's voice turned low and dangerous. "Careful. You wouldn't want to upset the golden goose who keeps this whole production afloat, would you?"

Y/N leaned forward, her voice a steely whisper. "Don't you dare pull that daddy producer stunt on me. You think your money can buy you everything? It can't buy respect, and it certainly can't buy genuine affection."

Eren's smirk faltered for a moment, his jaw clenching, much to your amusement. "Oh, touchy subject? Truth hurts, doesn't it?"

The director sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, can we focus? This scene is supposed to be about raw emotions, about their need for each other. Let's take it again, both of you are professionals, I know you can handle it."

"Scene 27, take 3."

"Lights, Camera... Action!"

The boy holding the movie clip snapper sighs, exhausted, even from a simple job as his. "Scene 27... take 23."

"Okay, guys, If it doesn't happen this time then we'll have to redo this tomorrow. And then we won't have time to film the scenes scheduled for tomorrow, hence the season 4 premiere will get delayed. So, just be professionals for once. You aren't kids anymore." The director sighs, putting his cap back on as he leans back in the chair.

Both you and Eren get back into place as the director yells action and Eren quickly slams you against the wall.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

He choked you harder, making you stretch your neck up as you whimpered slightly.

"I told you to shut the fuck up."

"Make me."

You and Eren looked at each other for a second and you almost thought he was going to chicken out once more, so did the director as he rolled his eyes and slid a hand across his face.

But he didn't.

Eren quickly brought his lips to yours, rough and full of all the hatred that's been simmering between both of you all this while. It was a frantic kiss, as the director had wanted. Both of you were breathless as his hand stopped choking you and went to the side of your neck and the other clutched at your waist, and your hands went to grasp at his hair.

It was a tangled mess of limbs as your heads moved together at the speed of light, begging to deepen the kiss, begging to explore every inch of each others mouth. The air crackled with unspoken desire, the kiss a whirlwind of exploring touches and desperate needy moans. 

Everything was a blur. Gasping breaths mingled with the frantic rhythm of your kiss, his tongue had even made an appearance. It surprised you, because when kissing a co-star the other doesn't use tongue to keep the kiss professional and to show the person respect.

But what would Eren Jaeger know about respect?

His hands gripped your waist, a possessive ache that mirrored your owns as one of your hands tugged at his hair and the other caressed his cheek. The kiss deepened, your heads moving together frantically, a battle fought on bruised lips and tangled tongues.

A whimper escaped your lips as Eren grabbed your hair and tilted your head backwards, the kiss turning urgent, so frantic. It felt like an eternity, a culmination of unspoken longing poured into this single, desperate moment.

Your hands twisted in his hair, pulling at it harshly on purpose, hoping it would hurt. With the groan that he let out into the kiss, you were sure it did.

Then, with a swift movement, Eren shoved his knee in between your legs, your surprised moan swallowed by the next searing kiss.

His hand shot out, gripping your throat as your heads whipped back and forth, a frantic chase for deepening the kiss. A tender moan left your lips as Eren's grip on your throat tightened, his tongue thrusting deeper. The sound of your kiss echoed in the room, into the mic, a desperate rhythm. You let out another soft, breathy moan and it was muffled into his mouth as he tried to get even closer to you.

And with the directors snap, which was your cue to start grinding on his thigh, you did just that. A soft moan escaped your lips and muffled into his mouth. "Eren." You sighed into the kiss, as you disconnected your lips and connected your forehead with his, grinding on his thigh.

Fuck. You didn't expect this to happen, especially not with Eren, but you could feel your pussy pulsate and throb with need. You just hoped he couldn't feel it.

"We shouldn't do this." You said in a soft moan as you threw your head back, giving Eren the chance to kiss down your neck.

"We shouldn't." He sighed into your neck.

"It's a bad idea." Your grinding intensified and his hand came to grab at your hips to help you, a sigh of pleasure escaping you, your nails digging into his shoulder.

"It is." You could feel his breath on your neck.

"I loathe you."

"The feelings mutual."

The air crackled as your eyes locked with Eren's. You guys locked eyes for a moment, as written in the script.

And then you leaned down as you were slightly lifted above the ground with a surge of undeniable desire. Your lips met in a frantic kiss, a tangle of emotions that both fueled and fought against your self-control. The kiss was so rushed, such a blur. Both your heads moving so frantically to fight for dominance.

It was like you were fighting to crawl into each others skin.

A strangled sound escaped your throat, a mix of surprise and something more primal. A flicker of uncertainty crossed your mind. Fuck, why were you enjoying this?

Shame threatened to choke the rising tide of sensation, but Eren's touch, a hand gently yanking at your hair, grounded you. In that moment, you were caught in a delicious storm of confusion and exhilaration.

"Cut!"

You tore yourself away from the kiss, gasping for breath. Eren mirrored your action, his chest heaving slightly. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. Both of you gazed at each other with longing and confusion, almost disgust and hate for themselves because deep down they know they liked it.

''Great job! I love the intensity. We'll just need to film some POV and closeup shots for the sex scenes and we're done for the day." The director smiled, praising both of you. "Let's take 5."

You started to walk away, but before you could leave, Eren grabbed your hand. "Also, by the way." You sighed and rolled your eyes.

"What?"

"I could feel that, you know."

Shit.

[moonmaiden1996]

Bound by Fate - Chapter Two

The aftermath of Shanks kidnapping you after being infected with the strange devil fruit pollen.

Chapter One

Shanks stared out at the vast ocean, the moonlight casting a silver sheen on the waves as the Red Force cut through the water. The night was still, the crew settled into their usual routines—some playing cards, others keeping watch, but there was no drinking, no singing. Shanks could tell they were worried, worried about him and their new edition, who was still currently locked away in their cabin. Everything was still, like it was waiting for something to erupt.

But Shanks’ mind was far from still.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. You are on the stage, so alive and carefree. You wide-eyed and terrified, yelling down at him, the dreaded red-haired pirate. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled your scent clung to his skin, lingered in the air around him, and no matter how many deep breaths he took, it was never enough. The need was there, like a roaring fire in his chest, scorching him from the inside out. He had never felt anything like it. His body was alive with a hunger he couldn’t control, an ache that no amount of rum or distraction could ease.

He had been foolish to think he could fight it. The Devil Fruit Pollen was not something to be trifled with. That cursed pollen had sunk its claws into him the moment it touched his skin. And now, you were in his veins, in his mind, in his every thought.

But despite the primal pull, the undeniable craving for you, Shanks knew he couldn’t give in—not like this. He was a man of control, of willpower. He might be a pirate but he was still a man of integrity. He was not an animal. He had faced countless enemies, fought battles that would break lesser men, and got the Marines to back down after they executed Ace and Whitebeard. But this? This was different.

You were different.

He couldn’t force you to be his. He had already taken you against your will, already crossed a line he swore he’d never cross. And that was enough to make his chest tighten with guilt.

“Captain?”

Benn Beckman standing at the edge of the deck, his arms crossed and a knowing look in his eyes. Beckman was the only one who could read him like an open book, the only one who knew the turmoil Shanks was going through. Hongo and Benn were the only ones that knew what the pollen was doing to his body and mind.

“You should talk to her,” Beckman said, his voice low, calm. “You can’t leave her locked up forever.”

Shanks let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know,” he muttered. “I just… I don’t know what to say. How do I even begin to explain this?”

Beckman’s gaze softened. “Start by being honest with her. She’s scared, Shanks. And you’re not helping by keeping her locked away.”

Shanks nodded, though the knot in his stomach only tightened. “I’ll talk to her.”

He stood there for a moment longer, his mind racing with thoughts of you—how you had looked at him with such fury, such defiance. And yet, beneath it all, he had seen the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes, the same confusion that mirrored his own.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and made his way toward your cabin.

xxx

You sat on the small cot in the corner of the cabin, your arms wrapped around your knees as you stared out the tiny window. The moonlight barely filtered through, casting long shadows on the wooden floor. The ship’s creaking and the distant sound of the waves were the only noises that filled the space.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions—fear, anger, confusion. And beneath it all, something else… something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

That man—Shanks. He had kidnapped you, taken you from everything you knew, yet there had been something in his eyes, something raw and unguarded, that had made your heart race in a way it shouldn’t have. You had been around dangerous men before—pirates, criminals, men who thought they could take whatever they wanted—but Shanks was different. He had a power, a presence, that was almost impossible to resist.

And that terrified you.

xxx

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your body tensed.

“It’s me,” Shanks’ voice came from the other side, low and hesitant. “Can I come in?”

You didn’t answer at first, torn between the urge to tell him to leave and the strange pull that made you want to hear what he had to say. After a long pause, you finally spoke.

“Fine.”

The door creaked open, and Shanks stepped inside, closing it behind him. His usual swagger was absent, replaced by a quiet tension. He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, but he didn’t come any closer. Instead, he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I owe you an apology,” he began, his voice rough, like it pained him to say the words. “For taking you the way I did. It wasn’t right.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “You think that makes it better?” you asked, your voice sharp. “You kidnapped me. You can’t just apologize and expect me to be okay with it.”

“I know,” he said, his jaw clenching. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I need you to understand something. This... connection between us, it’s not something I can ignore. I’ve tried. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

You frowned, your confusion growing. “What connection? What are you talking about?”

Shanks hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “There was a flower in a marketplace… the pollen from the Devil Fruit blossom. It did something to me. Ever since that moment, I’ve been… drawn to you. It is how I found you from the other side of the grandline. It’s like I can’t breathe without you near me.” His voice dropped lower, more vulnerable than you had ever heard him. “And I hate it.”

The sincerity in his words made your breath catch. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process what he was telling you. Part of you wanted to believe him, but another part of you was still angry, still scared. This man was a pirate and any pirate was never good to know.

Shanks took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said softly. “I just want a chance to make this right. To prove that I’m not the monster you think I am.”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as he moved closer. The air between you was thick with tension, an unspoken current that neither of you could ignore. His presence was overwhelming, the heat of his body drawing you in even though every logical part of you screamed to resist, to remember

“I don’t know what you expect from me,” you whispered, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to stay strong.’’I don't feel anything at all, just hatred.’’

“I don’t expect anything,” Shanks said, his voice barely above a whisper now. “But I can’t pretend this isn’t real. This pull between us… it’s real. And I need you to see that. You might not feel anything now, or tomorrow or next week but I can ensure you you will, this feeling…’’ his voice broke, hoarse with emotion as he gulped for air, like he was suffocating. ‘’I can ensure you you will ‘cause this, what I am feeling is all too real for you not be bound to me.’’

Your pulse quickened as his eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze making it hard to breathe. For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire, ready to snap at any second.

Then, without warning, Shanks took a step back, his hand clenching into a fist at his side. He was fighting it, fighting the need that was clear in his eyes.

“I’m trying to control it,” he muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “But it’s hard. Every time I look at you, every time I smell you…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to shake off the thoughts racing through his mind. His voice was strained, raw, jagged, beneath his golden skin you could see the muscles convulsing as they struggled to contain himself.

You didn’t know what to say. The tension between you was unbearable, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. You could feel the energy pulsing from within him, fighting its way to be released. Your angry subdued, for now you let your logic take over the hot headed desire to smash furniture over his face.

“Look,” you began, your voice softer now, “I don’t understand any of this. I don’t know why this is happening, or why you feel this… connection. But I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t just—”

“I’m not asking you to be anything you’re not,” he interrupted, his voice raw. “I just need you to stay. Just… give me time. Let me figure this out.”

You stared at him, your emotions a tangled mess of anger, fear, and something else—something dangerous. His gaze was pleading now, and for the first time since you’d met him, he looked broken. The big, intimidating pirate was broken.

“Please,” he added quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Against your better judgment, something in you softened. You could see the struggle in him, the way he was fighting to keep control, and for reasons you couldn’t explain, you nodded.

“I’ll stay,” you said softly. “For now.”

Shanks let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and something deeper. “Thank you.”

The words were simple, but the weight behind them was anything but. And as he turned to leave, the tension still thick between you as you stared at him, your anger faltering for just a moment as your own words sank in. But you weren’t going to let him off that easily. "If you think I’m just going to roll over and accept this, you’re wrong," you said, your voice firm. "I’m not some damsel waiting to be claimed by a pirate. If you want anything from me, you’re going to have to earn it."

Shanks’ eyes flickered with something—hope, perhaps. He took a step closer to you, but kept his distance, his voice soft. "What do you want me to do? Tell me, and I’ll do it."

You studied him for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. The tension between you was thick, electric. Despite everything, there was something about him, something that pulled at you in ways you didn’t fully understand. But you couldn’t give in—not without making him understand that you wouldn’t be controlled.

"You want me to give you a chance?" you asked, your tone serious.

Shanks nodded, his gaze intense, waiting for your next words.

"Fine," you said. "I’ll give you a chance. But on my terms."

He blinked, surprised by your sudden shift, but there was a flicker of relief in his eyes. "Name them," he said.

You took a deep breath, your voice unwavering. "First, I want my freedom. I won't be locked in and show down here in the bowels of this thing. I stay on this ship because I choose to, not because you keep me locked in here like a prisoner. If I decide to leave, you let me go. No questions, no chasing after me. If you can’t agree to that, then we have nothing to talk about."

Shanks hesitated, the thought of letting you go tugging at that primal part of him that screamed to keep you close. But he forced himself to push that aside. If he wanted any chance with you, he had to respect your choices.

"Agreed," he said, though his voice was tight.

"Second," you continued, "I want honesty. No more secrets, no more games. If there’s something going on—whether it’s with this connection between us or anything else—you tell me. I’m not going to be dragged along without knowing the truth."

Shanks nodded, a bit more easily this time. "You have my word."

"And third," you said, stepping closer to him now, your eyes locked on his, "I decide when or if anything happens between us. You might think you have some claim on me because of this pollen or whatever, but if you want more from me, you’ll have to wait until I’m ready. No pushing. No rushing."

Shanks swallowed hard, his eyes darkening with that same yearning that had been consuming him since the moment he’d first felt the pull of you. The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desires. He wanted you—badly—but he wasn’t going to push you. Not anymore.

"Understood," he said, his voice rough with restraint.

You held his gaze for a long moment, letting your words sink in. "Good," you said softly, your tone gentler now, though your resolve was still strong. "Because I won’t be forced into anything. Not by you. Not by anyone."

Shanks exhaled, the tension in his shoulders loosening just a fraction. He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I won’t force you," he promised, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity. "I want you to be with me because you want it—not because I made you."

You studied him, trying to gauge if he truly meant it. But there was something in his eyes, a raw vulnerability that made you believe he was genuine. For the first time since he’d taken you, you felt a flicker of trust—small, but enough to give you pause.

"Then prove it," you said, your voice soft but firm. "Show me that you can be more than just a pirate who takes what he wants. Show me that you can be the kind of man I’d want to stay with."

Shanks looked at you, his heart racing, and for the first time in days, the burning need inside him felt manageable. He’d do it—he’d prove himself to you, even if it took everything he had. "I will," he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "I’ll prove it to you, every day for as long as it takes."

You nodded, the tension between you shifting slightly, the anger giving way to something more uncertain, more vulnerable. "We’ll see," you said, turning away and moving back toward the bed.

Shanks watched you for a moment longer, his heart still heavy with yearning, but now there was a sliver of hope. He had a chance—a real chance. And he wasn’t going to waste it.

With one last look, he turned to leave the room, but hesitated. ‘’Since you asked for honesty, I should probably introduce myself. I am Yonko Shanks and you're on the Red Force… welcome to the Red Haired Pirates’’ before giving a strained smile before he was gone in one swift movement closing the door softly behind him like he was never there.

‘’You have got to be fucking kidding me'’

My second chapter! Thank you so much for all the love the last chapter got. Please like, leave a comment or make a request.

@commanderfreethatdust

[jesterwriting]

characters: sanji x vampire!gn!reader

contents: handjobs, bottom sanji, blood drinking gone sexual, reader is slightly animalistic from hunger, sanji is always happy to provide a meal, medically inaccurate, not proofread

word count: 1.5k words

note: i got vampire brainrot at 3 am last night. that is all.

playlist: tear you apart - she wants revenge

Hungry.

You were painfully hungry.

Your stomach clenched, growling so loud, you were sure it would wake the crew. Though your heart no longer beat, you couldn’t help the fear that coursed through your veins at the thought. The last thing you needed was one of your friends coming across you when you were starving, slathering like an animal as you paced on deck in the dead of night.

Everything hurt. Your instincts were going haywire with the all encompassing desire to feed; to sink your claws into whatever living creature who dared cross your path and bleed them dry.

The new moon hung overhead and the deck was bathed in shadows. Your sight was not hindered by the lack of light, pupils dilated so large your eyes were sure to be a sea of black. Stalking forward, your footsteps faltered when you heard a sound from the kitchen.

Bu-bump.

A heartbeat. Your lips pulled back in a snarl as saliva pooled in your mouth. It was a lone heartbeat, pumping liters of fresh blood through the veins of a silly little human who was up too late for their own good.

Your world was bathed in shades of gray. The varnish of the wood at your feet seemed to be etched in silver. Night vision was not only practical, but beautiful. If you weren’t so damn hungry, you would take a moment to appreciate it.

Opening your mouth, you scented the air. You recoiled when the sour, but familiar, taste of cigarettes hit the back of your throat.

You knew who was waiting for you in the kitchen. The one whose heartbeat called to you, sang to you, begged to be devoured. Your hands shook at your sides, the door to the kitchen growing closer as your feet moved of their own accord. The rational side of you screamed at you to leave, to lock yourself in your room until morning where you would land on an island and finally restock your blood supply. The animal side of you, however, was never one to give up on a meal.

You loved your friends, they were like family to you. Not once did they make you feel guilt for your dietary needs, nor did they make you feel like a monster. Now, as you ran your tongue over your fangs, you wished they were scared of you. The desire to hunt was buried deep in your very marrow, muscles clenched tightly in preparation to pounce as you turned the knob. You dreamed of the sensation of sinking your teeth into soft, prone flesh. Warm with life, so different from your own.

Light blinded you for a second. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness, before Sanji’s figure drew your eye. He was hunched over the sink, staring out of the porthole.

You could smell him from here. What would his blood taste like, you wondered. Rich, meaty, or floral. Your fingers twitched in anticipation, clawed nails grazed the flesh of your palm. Sanji still hadn’t noticed you, too caught up in his own thoughts to see your approach. Every squeaky board on the ship was memorized in the back of your head. It was almost a dance: step, turn, dip, step again, as you quietly stalked toward the ship’s cook.

You could see the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Sanji whipped around, revealing an ashtray with a still smoking cigarette resting in it.

“Y/N?”

The acrid stench of fear filled the room, if only for a moment, before Sanji relaxed. You met his eyes and mimicked his stance, mouth open slightly to taste the air. He was so close, you could practically taste him. It wasn’t until you heard a loud ‘plop,’ did you realize you were drooling.

Concern flitted over his face as Sanji drew closer to you. He was so warm, smelled so delectable, it took all of your self control to keep from pouncing on him and draining him dry. You gripped the counter so hard it cracked.

The noise caused Sanji’s expression to jump. Gently, he placed his hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“Hungry,” You ground out.

You didn’t realize he had removed his coat until the top few buttons of his dress shirt were loose. Sanji tilted his head to the side to reveal the pale column of his throat. You swallowed hard.

“So eat.”

Hands shaking, you struggled to contain yourself as you approached him. “I don’t want to kill you.”

“I trust you,” Sanji said, as if you weren’t a monster, drooling at the sight of him.

You trailed your fingers down his cheek and along his jaw, watching a trail goosebumps well in their wake. He trembled under your grasp, but there was no longer the scent fear in the air. Sanji was telling the truth, he really trusted you.

Breath shaky, you brought your lips to his jugular. “Kick me if you feel faint.”

“I won’t have to do that.”

The scent of him was driving you mad. Unable to control yourself any longer, you sank your fangs into his tender flesh. Sanji let out a gasp and brought his hand to cup the back of your head as you started to suck. Your fingers tangled in his hair to drag him closer to you. He tasted heavenly and floral. Almost like rose water, but richer, the barest hint of iron tickling the back of your throat. You moaned, sending vibrations against his skin as you drank from him, desperate to fill yourself with as much of him as you could.

Sanji’s whimpered as your tongue darted out to caress him, the pink muscle leaving a sticky trail of saliva as your feast grew sloppier. You wanted more of him, from flesh, to bone, to marrow, devouring him whole until nothing was left behind. Sanji’s sweat was salty. It only added to the bouquet of flavors you were indulging in. Gently, you stroked his face with your free hand, a silent praise of how good he was being for you. With a breathy gasp, Sanji tilted his head back, eyelashes fluttering against your palm.

“Taste good, love?” You tried not to focus on how his voice hitched when your lips suctioned against his jugular. An insatiable heat pooled in your gut.

You responded by placing an open mouthed kiss to his skin. He shivered under your lips. He could feel you smirk as you dragged your hand down his chest and along his hip to his crotch where you met the hard bulge in his slacks. Your fingers were gentle, toying with him.

“Say the word and I stop,” You muttered.

Sanji bucked into your palm. “Please, don’t stop.”

Expertly, you unbuttoned his pants and slipped your hand under his waistline. His cock throbbed when you gripped him, a small moan falling from Sanji’s lips and into the air where you could taste his arousal. He was hot, almost too hot, against your palm. There was a small part of you that was worried your naturally frigid body temperature would be a turn off for him, but he seemed to be enjoying it if his desperate thrusts into your hand were any indication. You spread precum down his cock until he was slick enough for your hand to glide along the length of him. He whined when your thumb brushed over the head, only for the noise to cut short when you suckled the sensitive skin of his throat. Your sharp fangs lightly nipped at whatever inch of skin you could find.

He was delicious, pliant and soft under you. What you wouldn’t give to have Sanji moaning like this every night. With the taste of roses on your lips, you sped up your ministrations, moving on from lazy flicks of your wrist to rapid strokes that met the speed of his thrusts. He was shuddering as he panted, the noise so hot you could barely stand it. What was once feeding became a trail of hickies along his collarbone. You could feel his body tense, Sanji’s grip in your hair tightening.

“F-Fuck, I’m cumming,” Was the only warning you got before he spurt hot ropes of cum against your fingers and into the fabric of his underwear.

You continued to stroke him, giggling as he twitched in your arms, before removing your hand from his now soft cock. Full for the first time in days, you lapped at Sanji’s wound until it closed. Healing spit was one of the few benefits of being a vampire, aside from enhanced strength and speed. You pulled away and wiped your lips with the back of your hand, smearing blood and semen across the bottom half of your face. Sanji stared down at you as if you were the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on, even as filthy as you were.

He stumbled, and you took great care to slowly bring him to a sitting position on the floor. “You’re probably lightheaded, I drank a lot.”

Somewhat pale, Sanji met your worried gaze with a smile. “Nonsense, my angel, Next time you're hungry, feel free to seek me out. I am a meal made for you to enjoy.”

[francixoxoxo]

୨ৎ Silver Soul 𓆝 𓆟

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝐏𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞!𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐝 𝐗 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

𝐓𝐖: 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄, 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱����

Ever since you came into Billy’s life, he began seeing in color.

You made his dreary, murky future feel a bit more appealing. Brighter. His work didn’t seem so gritty when he had your face painted in the walls of his mind. Hell, he whistled while he worked.

You were engraved into his heart like marble, written into the pages of his story. There wasn’t a way around it, you had him under your spell. His mind was filled with memories of your head against his chest, your lilted voice telling him all about yourself, your sisters, your life beyond him, and asking about his own world. The smell of your dark tresses, like sea salt and amber. The smooth warmth of your skin under his calloused palms, the wistful look in your eyes as you gazed up at the sky.

These memories were a comfort while he was away at sea. When he closed his eyes for a brief respite against the bustle of the crew, or the brutal sun beating down on his back as he tied the lines until ropes were burnt into his splintered skin, your face was behind his lids. Hanging over him like a rosary.

Billy found comfort in the image of those rosy cheeks and heart-melting smiles as he sat up in the crows nest. It was a particularly scalding day, he sighed wearily as he pushed his damp hair back, putting his hat back onto the smoothed locks. He held a barometer in his hands, Jesse was a particular stickler about keeping an eye on the air pressure.

Well. Atleast he wasn’t busting his ass on the deck, he thought as his gaze dropped to a few of his crew mates tying lines, mopping the wood and, what truly made Billy grin, Ollinger’s punishment of re-nailing the uneven screws in the floorboards. Served that bastard right.

“Feel sorry f’ya mama, Kid.” Bob had snorted, shaking his head as he leaned over the deck on his elbows. He was smoking from a pipe, the putrid smell curling Billy’s lip. He barely remembers what biting remark he even spat at the older man. Not like it made a difference.

“All that trouble f’ya t’just end up here?” Ollinger whistled, shaking his head. Billy’s nostrils flared. White hot anger was clawing at his core, toiling like a storm under his skin. “I bet that poor mick is rollin’ in ‘er grave.”

Billy drags a hand over his eyes and down his face, sighing heavily. The worst part was that Ollinger was probably right. His mother probably wouldn’t be happy with the path her son set out on. Well, her son wasn’t too pleased with himself either, so nobody’s happy.

He dreams of running off with you. He’s not even sure how it’d work. Maybe he’d build a special house for the two of you, half in the water and half above the ground. Billy would find a way. His future was brighter because you had come into his life, because there wasn’t a possible future for him without you in it. He’d live out of a dingy if it meant he could hold you close at night, live beside you, no matter what he had to do. If he could, he’d cut himself gills to live in your world.

From what you’ve told him, it’s a hell of a lot better than Billy’s world of gypsies, tramps and thieves. Of pirates and pillagers, rotten crooks and wry thieves.

Billy’s so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t notice the commotion on the deck below. It’s not until Dick calls up to him, climbing up the rope ladder halfway to get his attention, “Billy! Billy, come on down! You gotta see!”

“See what?” Billy whirled around, his forehead creasing as he peers down at his crewmate. But he’s already focusing on climbing down. He doesn’t even think to look out from the crows nest to see what’s going on down there before he’s coming down the ladder.

About halfway down he throws his head over his shoulder, the crew is crowded around the object of their attention, nearly blocking it from his view. But Billy’s got the altitude to see, and he nearly loses his grip on the ladder. His sapphire eyes are buggy and wild, his chest heaving in a raw kind of fear.

Writhing in a net, crying like a baby, a woman with dark hair, struggling ‘gainst the ropes as they scathe her bare skin. Her hips melt into iridescent scales. A mermaid.

A mermaid, caught in a net.

A mermaid, surrounded by pirates.

A mermaid, laughed and poked at as she cries.

Billy practically falls down the ladder more than he climbs down. He’s shoving aside his crew, gaping at the mermaid. He lets out a breath upon seeing that no, it’s not you, but it’s still a mermaid. Still somebody just like you, with lighter eyes and paler cheeks and darker scales, but just like you.

“Jess— Jesse, Jesse, what’re y’doin’? What’s this?” Billy scrambles to Jesse, the captain, the one eyeing the mermaid like a blank check to cash in.

A grin split Jesse’s face. “Bucket o’gold, Billy, that’s what this is!” Billy follows the blonde’s gaze to the mermaid again, terror painting her features. Her eyes are glassy and wide, trained on him. It puts bugs under his skin but he can’t make himself look away.

“What.. what d’you mean, Jesse, what’s.. What’re we doin’?” Billy feels as though his head is clouded, his mind hazy and his thoughts narrow. His eyes are buggy with a visceral horror.

Jesse does a double take to the younger man. “Well, what d’ya do when y’catch a mermaid?” The blonde grimaces as if Billy is the strange one here. Billy shakes his head, his voice dead in his throat, cut off by Jesse anyway, “Dick, Dick, nah, that ain’t good karma. C’mon now.”

“What?” Billy whips his head to look at his crewmate, wielding a cutlass with a slight curve to it. Like a scythe, he thinks lamely, picking the words out from the murky water he’s trudging in. The mermaid can’t seem to stop crying, saltwater pouring down her cherub cheeks as her chest heaves and brow furrows. She hardly notices as Dick undoes the ropes, looking up at Jesse, ignoring Billy completely.

“I thought they ain’t feel pain?” Dick huffed, carefully bringing the sword to the mermaid’s nape. Billy can’t tear his boots from their spot on the deck, he can’t move, he wants to scream for him to stop, but his tongue is cut from his mouth. He makes eye contact again with the woman.

“I think they do, heard somebody say they scream like crazy,” another crew member shrugged, Jesse grunting in agreement.

“Jess.. Jess, please, we ain’t gotta..” Billy pleads, turning to Jesse again with pleading eyes. Jesse shoots him a look with a sharp and clear purpose. Be quiet and don’t mess this up.

Her eyes are round and hazel, pleading for something he knows he could give, Billy knows he could do something, but at he same time he can’t. He can’t do a damn thing. And he knows he’ll hate himself to the day they pour dirt over his grave for it. “I mean, it’s kinda gruesome t’get straight to it anyhow.” Dick muses, as if they’re talking about how they take their tea.

“Get straight to what?” Billy breathes, blinking some haze from his vision. He can’t break away from the mermaid’s stare. Still, nobody is hearing the soft voice of the youngest man in their midst.

The blade moves, swipes, Billy’s eyes begin to water, because all he can see as he’s looking into this mermaid’s eyes is humanity.

How strange is that? To find something so human, something so familiar in somebody so mythical. Somebody nobody on this boat can find even a little bit of sympathy for.

(Would they find sympathy for you?)

Dick is clutching her locks in his hand a moment later, a whimper passing the woman’s lips. She wraps her own arms around herself tighter as the conversation about her body continues to pass around the men. “‘Cause the hair’s good luck.” Jesse explains beside Billy, an excited smile parting his lips.

Billy feels a sickening bile rising up his throat as he listens to the last wail the mermaid lets slip from her pinkened lips, the sound like a drizzle crashing into heavy, oppressive sheets of rain. Dick is pressing the blade against her jugular, her weeping dying in the air as the cutlass slices through her skin like a fin through water, vermillion and like sea foam bubbling at the crevice in her throat, staining the deck maroon.

He’s dizzy with it all, watching but not seeing thick blood spill. A brighter color than human blood, he thinks quite lamely. A passionate vermillion.

(What had her name been? Everything has a name, even when it leaves this world, but Billy supposes every name must also be forgotten.)

Billy blinks, granting tears passage down his cheeks. Jesse hasn’t a word to breathe about it.

(Was your blood that same hue? He didn’t want to know.)

Dick hands the cutlass off to Ollinger, Billy watches through hazy eyes, eyes that hardly feel like his own. The cutlass connects with her hip, where scale meets taupe skin, the sickening sound of blade cutting through tendon, bone and tissue. Sickeningly slow, the sword's wielder struggling to wedge the blade twixt her bones, wriggling the metal, cursing and shaking off a crewmate who offers his help. Skin tears like ripped linen and organs peeking like pearls in an oyster. Bile rises up Billy's throat, boots thump on wood, he vomits over the deck as screws his sapphire eyes shut to ignore the contents of his stomach floating away on the surface of the water like a carcass.

Her eyes are permanent carvings on the back of his eyelids, her weeping etched into his mind like the grooves of a music box's drum. Vermillion is a color that paints each crevice of his brain, the sight of a knife gutting a living, almost human being like a fish something no drink can wash away.

Billy feels a familiar ache for your warm hands on his arms, your fingertips scrubbing discontentment from his skin.

(Why didn't he do anything?)

But with a crashing wave of perturbation, some horrific thought is unearthed. What great danger is he putting you in, for his own selfish yearning for you? His love was a death sentence.

(Did you know the risks? Did you have any idea of what macabre gutting he just witnessed?)

All Billy knows, as his lips part to throw more bile into the rushing sea, is that he'd never forgive himself. You might. God may. But he would throw himself into the ocean, his body limp and resigned, he'd wave off passersby and call, "There ain't a point for me no more." He'd slit his arms vertical-like and let his body decompose into the sand, let the seagulls make dinner of his sun-freckled skin.

He's hunched over the railing like a beggar, purging his body of everything ailed until the only disease remains in his mind, behind his eyes, in shades of gray and striking vermillion. There is only one way, he decides, to keep his woman safe. To keep her eyes bright and her hair flowing, her heart content and most importantly beating. Billy will live with a broken heart if it means your own will go on.

A woman's body, mutilated and stained, cut at the hip and at the hair, crashes into the ocean like discarded refuse and sends sea spray into Billy's eyes.

It was the third day you laid in the sand, closing your eyes against the sun, perking your ears to the seagull's cawing and disappointing yourself with every glance down the shore.

Billy hadn't come to you in three days since his ship docked. You knew for yourself The Seven Rivers was at port, you'd watched it come into harbor with your own eyes. A handful of shells were clutched in your hand, your thumb brushing thoughtfully over the delicate ridges of one in particular. So very many questions had piled up in the corners of your mind. What were these spots and blotches appearing on your arms and shoulders? Your skin had been red and angry for a day, but now it was darkened, why was that? A word in one of the novels he'd given you; Totalitarianism, what did that mean?

But they all went unanswered, as the third day came and went listlessly. You watched the sun as it reclined in the sky, worry embedding itself into the deeper recesses of your heart. Could something have happened to him? Was he held up somewhere? You didn't want to consider that maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to meet you. Perhaps he was tired of you now, he'd had his fill, and moved on. Moved onto a girl he could hold in the night, a girl who fit better with him. A human girl.

The thought sent a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure what possessed you that night, the pearlescent moonlight drizzling over the basin of the sea or the unease brewing in your gut, willing you to glide through the navy waters, coaxing the bravery out of you as you swim to the marina, find his crew's boat, search for a slat in the side of the hull. What are you thinking, you wonder lamely as you peer over the desk, relieved that Billy'd been truthful when he told you he often took the night shift on deck. He'd admitted to you that it gave him a moment's respite to think. You feel a swell of relief at seeing his handsome face, illuminated by the moon as his eyes turn up to meet her demure light halfway.

But the relief doesn't come unscathed by the prying hands of doubt, her fingernails digging crescent moons into your arms. If he was alive, well and free, then why hadn't he come to see you? The Billy you loved wouldn't spend a moment away from you if he didn't have to. Unless his love had waned? Unless his heart was turning to face another's? Unless he didn't want you anymore?

You swallowed down a dry sob, the very thought of such a tender love being gifted to you just to be torn from your hands was earth shattering. Billy wouldn't just be stolen from your grip, but ripped from your heart, the deep sutures keeping him stitched into the fabric of your being ripped apart for you to bleed away, sink to the bottom of the sea. The worst part? He'd still be out there, out somewhere in the world, just not with you. Living, but not at your side. Existing, just out of reach.

Your name spoken in a hushed tone snapped you out of your thoughts. You lift your gaze from the wood of the deck to see Billy's large frame looming over you, those sapphire eyes bright even when swaddled in the darkness of midnight. They dart over you, you think you see a shine to them, before he reaches over the railing to lift you by under the arms. You don't protest as he hoists you to sit on the railing. Billy's hands clutch at your arms long after you're steady, your name falling from his lips again like a prayer.

"You're here." He breathed, his brows lifting and a faint smile crossing his lips. His hands smooth over your arms as if to assure himself you're material, you won't blow away like sand under his fingers.

You nodded simply, a strange feeling brewing. A feeling you've never had to name before now, and now that the time's come, you aren't sure what to call it. "Where have you been, Billy?" His expression falters at your whisper. "I've been waiting for you, and you never came."

Billy shakes his head, lips pressing almost nervously. "I couldn't. M' sorry, I wanted to, but... you shouldn't be here." You could name the feeling now as it licked at your insides like flame. Indignation.

"What do you mean?" You huff, curling your lip and drawing your brows.

Billy throws a glance over his shoulder as if he expects a bear to come up from the depths of the boat, ignoring your question. “You need to go, baby.”

When he turns back to you, his eyes avoid yours. Could his sentiments have changed so quickly that he can hardly look at you? It's oil on the fire in your belly. "You could have at least told me to my face if you didn't want this anymore!"

You watch as horror plays across Billy's face. His eyes, the deepest cerulean, a color you'd found endless comfort in, are buggy and wide as they fall on yours, his nostrils flaring, you guess to fight off the growing shine of those eyes. He shakes his head adamantly, hands roaming upward, one to your shoulder, the other to the back of your head, finger's carded in your wet hair. "I'll want you forever. You won't get it, baby, that's fine, but even when you ain't with me, you're with me. I love you more than anything in this world. Don't you doubt that."

There he goes. It's a bucket of ice water, dousing your anger, replacing it with a shiver. You wrap your arms around yourself, discovering that dripping hair and wet skin didn't bode well against the cold night's wind. You think Billy might kiss you, might press his lips to yours in the flurry aftermath of his confession, but he only stares. After a moment he pulls away from you, to your dismay, shrugging off the maroon cardigan over his button-up. Tenderly, with a lingering brush of fingers against your shoulders, he pulls the warm fabric around you. You murmur a soft thanks, he only nods.

"If you love me," Billy nods once again, taking the chance to wrap his arms around you, your tail wetting the calf of his trousers, "then why haven't you come to see me? I thought.. I thought you didn't like me anymore. Or that you'd been hurt." You whisper, your cheek finding a home on his shoulder.

Billy's strong palm rubs up and down your back over the cardigan, his other hand pulling your hair out of the neck and combing his hands through the tresses. Oh, how you missed those hands. You watch his Adams apple bob as he swallows hard, his voice gruff, "I just... I don't wanna put you in danger, sugar."

"Danger?" You snake your own arms around his back, feeling the firm expanse of him. Finding comfort in it.

"I..." Billy hesitates a moment before he goes on, his resolve melting away in your presence. "I saw somethin'. The other day. N'.. It was terrible." A soft breath is sighed into your hair. Your hand drifts to his arm, squeezing him in what you hope is a comforting gesture. "I can't stop thinkin' 'bout it." Billy admits in a whisper.

You push your cheek closer to his neck, his stubble scratching your forehead, a familiar and warm sensation. "What'd you see?"

The air is silent as the night is navy. Billy holds you just a bit closer to his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head. You were strong, you could handle the truth of the image stained behind Billy's eyelids. But an overwhelming need to keep you safe from the world surges in him, a duty to trim all thorns that could prick you. In fact, he knows he'd let you use his own chest as a shield, take a bullet, an arrow, a cannonball, it truly didn't matter to him; if it was for you, he would swallow them all.

He simply can't choke out the words. You'd want nothing to do with him after they broke the threshold of his lips. He can bear it on his own, he tells himself. "You don't wanna know."

A frown creases your face. You pull away from his chest, it feels like tugging at two magnets. "If it's about me, then I need to know." You murmur, shaking your head. Your hands roam over his shoulders aimlessly until they find themselves cupping his face. Billy's gaze falls, avoiding yours. Absently he draws his cardigan closer around your frame, thought tightening his expression. "What'd you see, Billy?"

Your thumb rubbing over the stubble on his cheek crumbles his resolve as if it had been made of nothing. Nothing at all, in the face of your gentle soul. "They caught a mermaid." Billy's eyes search yours for a sign that you might show him mercy, let his voice die in his throat. You don't, and so he goes on. "N' killed her. Slit her throat and they.. Cut 'er at the hip. Jesse's finding a buyer for the tail."

You feel, suddenly, like you swallowed an anchor. Your face goes lax, but the rest of you tense. Billy nods, whispers lowly and draws you back into his arms, "I know, I know, baby." He nestles a kiss into your hair. "I know."

It put a feeling under your skin that you couldn't scrub away; you had a price tag. Men'd kill you and sell you like an animal, like you hadn't a heart to feel, eyes to see, a mind to wonder. How could it be? Billy held you like a bird, a hollow-boned and delicate little thing, yet what he told you confirmed your mother's warnings. Men were vicious creatures, money clouding their sense. In a sea of dirt and pollution, your Billy was a sapphire.

You hadn't realized just how rare of a thing you possessed until now.

"Is that why.. You stopped coming?" You whisper against the fabric of his button-up, his musk filling your nostrils soothingly. Billy grunts in confirmation. Another kiss is dropped to your scalp.

"S' safer for you, sweet girl." Billy mumbles, though you hear the reluctance. "M' bad news."

"Is it wrong to say I don't care?" You fist your hands in his shirt, the material soft under your grip. He sighs your name, you can sense the impending conversation, so you rush to cut him off. "I don't want to be without you. I don't care what the risks are."

"I care," Billy huffs, but he only holds you tighter. "I don't want to ever, ever see you in a net. I'd-- I'd kill myself before I let that happen."

You lift your head from his chest. His aquiline nose bumps yours as he looks down at you, his brows drawn taut. "Then we'll be careful."

"Baby-"

"No. I'm not letting this go. Not letting you go." You shake your head hurriedly. Your voice is firmer than you thought it could possibly be. Billy's eyes dart twixt yours, his lips pressing together.

"You know what you're riskin'." He murmurs, his calloused fingers brushing a wild strand of hair behind your ear. You nod. "And you still wanna be with me? You'd still choose me?" Billy huffs, eyebrows lifted and a faint, almost self-deprecating smile playing at his lips.

You allow a smile to grow on your cheeks. Because it's true, true from the deepest crevice of your heart, true from the furthest reaches of your soul. Of all the things you've found on the Earth, of all the flowers, of all the birds, of the sun, moon and the constellations, this is the most precious thing. This was something worth dying for, you thought with a rosy lightness as you press a kiss to Billy’s lips.

Every time, the kiss said. Put a million beautiful things at my feet, and I will choose you, every time.

[raya-hunter01]

Cruising Love Pt. 2.3 Final

Two Shot Request

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Kayla)

Jimmy Uso x Trin

Roman x Black Female OC! (Robin)

Sefa x Black Female OC! (Cameron)

Montez Ford x Bianca Belair

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut,

Thank you for the requesting and trusting me once again @royalkay23 and sorry this last chapter took so long.

Jey has planned a five-day cruise to the Bahamas and Puerto Rico for his girlfriend Kayla’s birthday. Jey is determined to make sure the trip goes smoothly as he’s enlisted his family and friends to help him plan the perfect wedding proposal.

-----

Puerto Rico

Joe’s POV

“So, you ain’t got time for an old friend Joe?” Dainelle’s sister Regina asked as I sighed.

“I ain’t got time for this, I got somewhere to be,” I said as Danielle and her sister tried to block my path.

“So, you just gonna ignore me, Joe,” Danielle said as I paused truly not in the mood. My meds had me feeling a little bad this morning.

I slept in a little longer this morning while everyone else went to get things ready for Kayla’s birthday dinner.

“Yes, I am 'cause you have been out of pocket this whole damn trip,” I said as her sister Regina rolled her eyes.

“Nah, I’m serious Regina, you sister been trippin’” I said as Danielle looked guilty.

“Why don’t you fill me in Joe,” Regina said looking confused at her sister.

“Let’s just go, I ain’t worried about it anymore,” Danielle said as I shook my head.

“Did she tell you the first night on the ship she tried to push up on Jey. Like even after he told her that he had someone?”

“Wait, you told me he found you that night and begged for a second chance. Then his girlfriend got jealous and tried to attack you,” Regina said frowning at her sister.

“More like she tried to break up his relationship, she even showed up at Kayla’s birthday dinner in the Bahamas being messy as fuck. That’s why Kayla beat her ass,” I said as Regina looked disgusted.

“You lied to me and got me out here about to confront people about shit that didn’t even happen,” she hissed as Danielle sighed.

“She did threaten me!” Danielle said trying to plead her case as Regina scoffed.

 “You interrupted her birthday dinner with bullshit, and you tried to come on to her man. I woulda beat yo’ ass too, you are lucky that’s all she did,” Regina said as I nodded in agreement as Danielle wiped her tears.

“Look, Jey has moved on, and Danielle needs to do the same. Things could have gone way worse than it did the other day,” I said as Regina nodded.

“I’m really sorry about this Joe. Tell Jey I wish them well, and he won’t have to worry about my sister anymore, I guarantee it,” Regina said as I nodded leaving them alone.

“I already told you I ain’t going to bother them anymore!” I heard Danielle yell in the distance as I made my getaway.

“Yeah, you better, before I tell your little rich boyfriend and he cuts you off,” Regina said as I shook my head. Damn, she's really up to the same shit.

Looking for someone rich to sink her claws into. I swear I’m so glad Jey let that shit go all those years ago.

I went around the block so they couldn’t see where I was originally going. When the coast was clear I ducked into the restaurant.

“Bianca doing the damn thang,” I muttered watching her put the final touches on Kayla’s 40th birthday backdrop.

“Damn girl, you snapped on that,” I said admiring it but paused seeing her nervousness.

“Are you sure?” she asked looking over her work and gazing back at the crew from the venue putting the finishing touches on their own decorations.

“I think it’s awesome Bee, you’re really talented, sis,” I said as she smiled.

 “I really like it too, I just hate the restaurant did more gold in their decorations and only like a little speck of silver,” Bianca sighed running her finger over her tired face as I gave her a hug.

“It matches Bee, now stop stressing. Plus, I know Kayla is going to love it all,” I said, reassuring her as Montez walked in shaking his head.

“Did you tell her to stop stressing, I know I did” he said as she rolled her eyes, as shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m just sayin’ you’re being critical of yourself, and everything is amazing. It’s amazing because you made it Bee,” Montez said as she cracked a smile.

“Thanks baby, it means a lot coming from you,” she said taking a deep breath as he came over to comfort her.

“Let’s finish strong, the girls are out back with Sefa and Jimmy. We almost got everything done out there,” he said taking her in his arms as she smiled.

“I can if you wit me,” she whispered as he gently kissed her lips. “Girl, “I’m always wit you,” he whispered as I took the hint and left them alone.

Robin’s POV

“This looks so beautiful, I just can’t wait,” Trin said as we moved in sync finishing up as I spotted Joe.

“Hey you! How are you feeling?” I asked as he wrapped me up in his arms. “Never better, I told you I would help ya’ll,” he whispered as I shook my head.

“Nope, your doctor said rest, and you did enough the other day,” I said caressing his back. “I feel fine baby, and the nausea has finally passed,” he reassured me as I caressed his beard. “I’m glad, but we’re almost done so just take a seat,” I said as he sighed but complied with my wishes as we finished up.

“Just chill Uce, we got it,” Sefa said as Joe relaxed in his chair. Days like these the start of the day is rough but thank God he feels better as the day goes on.

“Yea, you gotta be on security detail tonight,” Jimmy said as Joe rolled his eyes. “No, I’m actually making sure the proposal entertainment gets here,” he said as I smiled.

“Wait, he said yes?” I asked as Joe smiled. “Oh! Jey and Kayla are gonna flip,” I squealed as Trin and Jimmy looked confused, then it clicked for Jimmy.

“Oh, shit Case gon’ come through and sing,” Jimmy said as Trin smiled.

“Glad you figured it out Jurdy cause’ when we were planning this trip, ya’ll was throwing so many ideas out I honestly forgot,” she said as we laughed.

“We almost there ya’ll, in a couple hours Jey and Kayla are going to be engaged,” Cameron said looking around taking everything in as we all tried to contain our excitement but, in the end, it was all going to be worth it.

-----

Regen Seven Seas Cruises

Jey and Kayla’s Suite

Kayla’s POV

“Jey, wait a minute” I moaned, pushing against his head and sliding back slightly trying to create some distance as he worked my body into a frenzy with his talented tongue.

“You think I’m playin’ don’t you? I told you to stop runnin’.” The pure hunger in his voice made my heart race as he moved to the foot of the bed.

“Jey! Oh, fuckI” I gasped, unable to think as Jey possessively pulled me to the end of the bed, bending my trembling legs to my chest as he kneeled before me.

“Mmhm, I told you it was breakfast time,” he moaned as I squealed in surprise as he glided his flat long tongue along my slit over and over taking his time as I writhed helplessly on the bed.

“Happy birthday baby,” he whispered as I gasped trying to catch my breath as his tongue swirled and stroked my pussy.

“Thank you!” I squealed in gratitude as he moaned, concentrating on the task at hand.

“Hold dem legs, Daddy’s hungry,” he whispered as his masterful tongue dipped inside my wet hot center, never stopping as he added a finger, then two, curving it against my G-spot over and over.

 “Yes! Eat Daddy, eat your pussy!” I screamed, trying to hold my legs as they started to shake.

“Mmm, Daddy love how wet his pussy gets for him,” he moaned, his tongue sensually flickering over my slit over and over.

“Just for you! Mmm, just for you,” I panted truly at his mercy as his long tongue devoured me.

“You gon’ cum for me birthday girl?........ Go ahead and cum for me,” Jey moaned, just as turned on as I was.

 How could I deny him, as his mouth and primal groans of encouragement brought me even closer to my release?  

My legs were now pure jello as that beautiful intense fire burning deep within me, exploded.

“Yes! Yes, I’m cummin’, oh!” I cried as Jey growled, releasing my clit, licking his lips in anticipation, and continuing to thrust his fingers against my g-spot hard and fast as I came undone for him.

My essence spilling from my body as he moaned truly pleased with himself.

“Oouu, fuck….You squirtin’ for Daddy, hell yea,” he praised as my essence continued to soak the bed.

“Jey, shit! Yes!” I screamed as his mouth once again engulfing my wet center as he quenched his thirst. My shaking legs falling on top of his shoulders as he caressed them.

My breath coming in short pants as he sensually cleaned me up with his tongue as I moaned. Damn, that was unexpected.

“Mmm, happy birthday baby,” he whispered as I weakly ran my fingers through his hair.

“Thank you,” I moaned trying to catch my breath as he reveled in my pleasure.

“Oh, trust me, it was my pleasure,” he said caressing my hips before getting up to start the shower.

“What about you?” I asked still trying to gather my bearings as he came back and scooped me up in his arms.

“That was for you, now let’s get you cleaned up so I can see you in that dress,” he whispered carrying me into the bathroom to shower.

Damn, my birthday is already starting off with a bang, literally. I wonder what he has in store for me tonight.

-----

The Experience

Kayla’s Birthday Dinner

Kayla’s POV

“Oh my god! This is too much,” I cried as we walked through into the venue.

“No, it isn’t,” Jey whispered gently kissing my neck as I tried to control my tears. “Oh, no ma’am don't ruin your makeup….Well at least not just yet,” Cameron said pulling me by the arm to show me around.

Everything was beautiful and I just felt overwhelmed and thankful for them all.

“Bee this has you written all over it and I love it,” I said looking at the beautiful backdrop as she smiled.

“See I told you she wouldn’t care that you put her real age up there,” Montez said as Sefa nudged him on the arm.

“Aye, never talk about women’s age man,” he said as I rolled my eyes at him.

“Just come get in the picture ya’ll,” I said pointing at Montez and Sefa as the photographer snapped a few shots.

The night was truly amazing, I mean it’s nothing like family, good food, good vibes and gifts. But out of all of that my most favorite and happiest time has been on the dance floor wrapped up in Jey’s arms.

“I can’t believe you found that dress I wanted, and you got them to do all my favorite dishes,” I whispered as we continued to dance.

“I told you I wanted you to have the best birthday ever,” he said as I smiled brightly at him. “I really have babe, and I don’t know how to thank you,” I said as our lips met in a loving kiss.

“I know how,” he said as I raised my eyebrows at him curiously. “How can I thank you?” I asked as he spun me around.

“Go put on the dress I got you,” he said as I laughed.

“You wanted me to wear this one, and now you want me to change into the other one,” I said trying to make sure I was understanding his request.

“Yes, go change because the night is just getting started,” he said as I smiled stealing a kiss before going back to the table and getting the dress out of the box.

“I’ll help you change,” Trin said as Cameron smiled. “Yea, I’ll help you too,” she said as they led me to the bathroom.

What the hell is going on?

Jey’s POV

“Are you Ready?” Bianca asked as I nodded, trying to calm my nerves. “Yeah, I’m more than ready,” I said as she gave me a hug before leading me outside as I felt my heart stop.  “Pick your jaw up Uce........ Yeah, we did that,” Montez said as I looked at them in disbelief.

“Holy shit! Are you serious, sis!” I exclaimed looking at her creation as she blushed. “Yes, we all worked together to make it happen, now enough talkin’ let’s get engaged. You can thank us later,” she said as Joe and Robin came up. “Alright all systems are a go,” Joe said as I nodded. “What are you up to? Where did ya’ll go?” I asked as he waved me off.

 “Don’t worry about that right now, we got you,” he said as Bianca fixed my tie.

“Go get engaged bro,” Sefa said as I smiled, my heart feeling so full as I walked down the pathway.

Kayla’s POV

“Ya’ll are up to something,” I said hearing Trin and Cameron laughing as Jimmy was guiding me around by the arm.  “Just go with it,” I heard Jimmy say as I laughed.

“You would say that, you and Trin into that kinky shit,” I said as Trin laughed. “So are you and Jey don’t even front,” Cameron said I smiled.

“I’ll never kiss and tell,” I said as Trin snickered. “Hell, you ain’t gotta tell, we heard ya’ll last night when we were heading our room ma’am,” Trin said as I blushed.

“Ok, we’re moving two steps to the left wit yo blushin’ ass,” Jimmy said as I laughed holding on to his arm.

“Oh, it smells nice out here,” I said feeling a small breeze.

Nervously, I braced myself as I felt the blindfold being taken off. I shook away my blurry vision trying to focus on what was before me.

“Oh, my god,” I gasped in shock as I saw Jey standing in a the center of a heart, made of rose petals, in front of the words “Marry Me” Instantly my heart began to beat wildly against my chest as he smiled brightly and at me holding a single rose in his hand.

Guess what I did today

Those were the words I said to you

It was last may, dont know the exact day

In my hand there was a ring

“Oh my god,” I whispered overwhelmed as I looked over to the side and saw Case singing standing beside Joe and Robin.

“Surprise,” Joe whispered smiling at me as shook my head in disbelief. They really did all this.

“What you waitin’ on sis, go to him,” Robin whispered as I nodded moving in a daze down the beautiful path.

Then you told me that you loved me

More than anything in your life

So I asked you would you do me

The honor of being my wife

Jey’s POV

My heart skipping a beat as Kayla came closer, I knew this was what I wanted more than anything in life. “Bout time you got down here,” I whispered taking her hand in mine, pulling her close as she tried to hide her tears.

“I know right, sorry to keep you waiting,” she laughed lightening the mood as I nodded wiped her tears truly entranced by her beauty.  

“I’d wait forever if I had to.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s you and you’re the one for me,” I answered honestly as she smiled accepting the rose. Now all I needed her to do was to accept my proposal.

Yes I will

I will be your man

Your protector, your best friend

Till my humble life is ended

And time begins again, couldn't we be happily ever after?

“Are you sure?” she whimpered as I slowly kneeled before her. “Never been more sure of anything in my life, Kay. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Yea?” She asked still in shock, as I nodded, my own unshed tears beginning to fall as Kayla caressed my face. The loving action alone calmed my racing heart even as I melted into her touch.

“Yes, I want you to be my wife.”

“Then ask me, Joshua” she whispered wiping my tears. God, I love when my name from her beautiful lips.

Take you for my wife

The center of my life

And I will never, ever fade

From this choice I made, oh

Couldn't we be happily ever after?

“Three years ago, you found me, and you healed me from the inside out, Kay.  You taught me how to love, and every day with you is another chance for me to show you just how much I love you. I know one that I don’t want to do this thing called life without you by my side.”

“I don’t either,” Kayla cried as I released the breath I was holding, pulling the ring box out of my pocket, and opening it.

 Couldn't we be happily ever after

See today, I wanna make you my wife...

We could be strong together for so long

“I love you so much Kayla, will you marry me?” I asked as she nodded.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you. I love you so much,” she gasped, leaning down brushing her lips across mine as I felt the world melt away. My arms enclosing around her waist cherishing the moment.

“Am I gettin’ a new sister-in law or what?! I ain’t seen you put no ring on her finger,” Jimmy yelled as we laughed.

“She said yes!” I shouted, finally sliding the tear cut diamond on her finger. Kayla never once looked at her ring, her eyes never left mine.

Smiling brightly, I stood up as she jumped into my arms, our lips once again found each other as we shared a deep kiss. The thunderous applause and cheering seemed so far away as we got lost in each other.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Couldn't we be happily ever after

“You didn’t even look at your ring, babe,” I whispered caressing her face, as I placed her back on the ground as she smiled, finally looking down at her ring.

“Babe,it’s perfect babe, I love it,” she whispered as I smiled.

“I know you don’t like big and flashy so I went with the tear cut, I was hoping I got it right,” I said nervously as she grasped my hands.

Kayla’s POV

“I didn’t mean to not look at the ring, I just couldn’t stop lookin’ at you. I didn’t want to miss it,” I whispered as Jey caressed my hands. “Miss what baby?” he asked as I smiled trying to find the right words to say.

“How you looked at me like I was the only girl in the world…… Everything you said to me, I wanted to remember it all,” I said trying to keep my emotions in check but failing once again.

“You are the only girl in the world for me,” he whispered wiping my tears.

“Josh, I’m not marrying a ring; I’m marrying you-” My world a mere whisper as he nods, tasting my lips once again.

The cheering of our family and friends long forgotten as it seemed and felt like we were the only two people in the world. Truthfully, I was so happy they allowed us to be just that in this moment.

I was engaged…Holy shit…

Danielle’s POV

I knew what I said, and I didn’t mean to pry but I had called the restaurant while Regina and I were nearby to see if they had a reservation available. I got no answer at first but as we arrived at the restaurant someone finally answered.

They told me that the whole restaurant was closed for a private party, and they would reopen tomorrow night at their regular time.

As Regina and I were trying to look up another place to eat at out of my peripheral I saw Joe and Robin come outside. They met someone and instead of going back through the front they all ducked around back. As my sister called her husband back, I quietly followed them.

Imagine my surprise to see this lavish set up, realizing Jey was proposing to Kayla. I stayed quietly tucked away in a huge bush watching everything unfold.

“What the hell is you doin’?” Regina whispered, peaking over my shoulder as I shushed her. My heart dropping with each confession of love Jey bestowed upon Kayla.

“You really out here hidin’ in bushes…Bitch you done lost it,” she said as I put my hand over her mouth.

“Damn, do you want them to know we’re here,” I sighed removing my hand as we quietly watched Jey propose.

Watching everyone so happy for them gutted me. Alright, enough of this we shouldn’t be here let’s go Regina snapped leading me away from the happy scene.  The silence killing me as she dragged me down the street.

“You can let me go now,” I said as we got closer to the ship.

Can I really Danielle, I mean you out here followin’ people and hidin’ in fuckin bushes,” she said finally letting my hand go, continuing to walk as I stopped.

“What you gotta say?” I asked, seeing her head shake as she continued to walk, pissing me off even more. Always so judgmental.

“Stop fuckin’ walking and talk to me! I yelled as she stopped and turned to face me.

"Fine, we can talk, but I’m done with talkin’ to you with the kid gloves.”

"What the fuck does that mean?”

“Danielle, after all of that you just saw, do you still think you have a chance with Jey? Like how do you not see how much Jey loves that girl,” she said as her words hit me like a ton of bricks.

“I know that,” I whispered defeatedly, really shocking myself that I said it. Regina’s face softened as her phone rang but she sighed, hitting ignore.

“I ain’t in the mood Joe” she whispered as I scoffed watching her text him. “You judging me, but Joe is calling you? Wouldn’t surprise me if ya’ll are still fuckin’” I said as she slapped me.

“First off Joe is happily married, and I don’t play that shit of sleeping with men that are taken. We’re friends and have been friends since college, don’t play with me Danielle” she hissed as I rubbed my face.

“I know and I’m sorry-” I started as her phone ranging interrupted us once again.

“Hey….Joe, I already told you that I took care of it. We’re almost back at the ship, ya’ll just enjoy your night and tell Robin I said hello,” she said before hanging up.

“So, he saw us?”

“Girl, Joe clocked you the minute you followed him and Robin. He ain’t dumb, that’s why he was near the bush.”

“There really is no hope, is it?” I whispered as Regina shook her head. “No there isn’t,” she said as I broke down.

I was so wrapped in the money, that I never took the time to really love him,” I started as Regina cut me off.

“Look, I don’t mean to hurt you, but all of that is water under the bridge now. You’re beating a dead horse, Jey has moved on and you should do the same,” she said as we stood in silence.

I knew she was right, and I knew what I had to do.

I had to let him go……I played myself, and I had nobody to blame but myself.  I hate to admit it but I’m happy Jey found someone to love him.  He deserved it…We all did.

---

Later that night

Jey and Kayla’s Suite

Kayla’s POV

“Mmm, babe, where are we going,” I gasped feeling him throbbing even harder inside me as he carried me to the shower on the balcony.

I know the neighbors are tired of us, because it’s been on and poppin’ ever since we arrived back.

We couldn’t get enough of each other; clothes were scattered everywhere and the bed a mess as he made me cum again and again bending to his will as.

I ain't afraid to drown

If that means I'm deep up in your ocean, yeah

Girl, I'll drink you down

Sipping on your body all night

“Fuck!” I moaned, my back pressed against the shower wall, legs wrapped around Jey’s waist and my fingers entangled in his hair. His primal thrusts and growls set my body ablaze as he sucked on my neck.

 I just wanna take your legs and wrap 'em 'round

Girl, you coming right now

My head to your chest feeling your heartbeat, girl

Swimming all in your sea, and you sweating all over me

Bring it forward, don't you run, run

“Mmhm, I didn't forget, I always keep my promises. Now tell me again, what’s today?” he moaned as his back took the brunt of the steaming hot water as it cascaded over us, our cries of pleasure filled the still of the night as he went deeper.

“It’s my birthday!” I exclaimed as Jey grasped my throat, taking me in a scorching kiss as my vision began to blur, fuck, I was close.

I don't want to be a minute man

Baby, you're just like a storm raining on me

Girl, you're soaking wet, whoa-whoa

“Yes, it is, and you deserve the world,” Jey moaned against my lips as his pace begins to quicken even more as I pulsed around him, clawing at his back as he growled going even deeper as my legs began to quiver.

“Fuck, my birthday girl about to cum, ain’t you beautiful?”  He groaned as I nodded, unable to speak.

“Tell me Kay, how does my birthday girl want to cum?” he moaned as I groaned at his question, now meeting his thrusts with equal desperation.

I'ma kiss it right, yeah, yeah

I'm gon' lick all night, yeah, yeah

Girl, when I'm inside, yeah, yeah

Yeah girl, you heard what I said

I'm gonna make you wet the bed (bed), bed (bed), bed (oh)

“Mmmhm, that’s it, you can do it baby.”

“Baby! Oh, baby! I screamed as Jey soothed me, caressing my face as we chased our end together, his eyes never leaving mine as we moved in sync.

“Mmm, shit!” I gasped as I braced one of my arms against the tile for leverage, the other holding on to his neck for dear life as I began bouncing harder on his dick.

 “Yeeaa, get dat dick,” he gasped, grasping my hips, beginning to thrust harder as I screamed. Intense sharp tingles shot through my body overwhelming me as he swallowed my cries with his lips.  Our kisses igniting an even deeper passion.

You don't know what you're in for

'Bout to get inside your mental, huh

Bend ya back like it's limbo

I'ma make you feel like a nympho

Tonight, oh-whoa, you're mine, baby girl, oh

 “Mmhm, dats it......Ride dat shit… Fuuuckk…. You my lil rider ain’t you?” he asked, his words making me even wetter.

“Yes! I’m your lil rider!” I cried as he growled in appreciation.

“Mmhm, I know you are baby......... Now tell Daddy, do you wanna cum on his dick….. Or in his mouth,” he whispered against my lips as I pulsed tighter around him.

I was turned on beyond belief as Jey himself was vying very hard to keep his eyes open as we climbed our mountain of pleasure together.

As the minutes passed we became even more lost in each other. “Answer me, Kayla, how do you want Daddy to please you?” Jey rasped as I moaned in appreciation at his eagerness.

“Oouu, fuck! I want to cum on both, Daddy!” I cried, his eyes snapping open in shock at my request. A primal growl escaped his lips as he swiftly gripped me under my thighs bouncing me with ease on his dick as I screamed in ecstasy.

“Who am I to deny the birthday girl,” he whispered, his strokes powerful and deliberate as I clawed at his neck, our lips meeting once again in a deep kiss.

“Mmm, cum for me,” he moaned releasing my lips as I fell apart in his arm as he held me tight.

“I’m cummin! Jey, fuck!” I gasped as my orgasm overtook me. “Fuck yea, squirt on dat dick……… It feels good don’t it?” he groaned as I whined against his lips.

“Yes! Ohhh, fuck yes! Mmm,” I moaned as I felt Jey’s hands grip my hips tighter.

“Fuck, I love you,” he groaned as he met his end, stilling inside me as his body trembling against mine.  

 “Mmm,I love you too,” I whispered collapsing against his shoulders totally spent as Jey reached over and turned off the shower.

My second request far from my brain as I tried to gather myself and recover, but it wasn’t lost upon Jey. 

Jey’s POV

 “One more to go birthday girl,” I whispered lifting her up further, wrapping her legs around my shoulders as she gasped in shock. “One more?” she gasped as I smirked.

 “Uh-huh, I’m givin’ my birthday girl what she asked for, now keep dem eyes on me,” I whispered, slowly and teasingly tasting her soaking wet lips, savoring her addictive taste. 

Any time you want it, I'm ready and willing, girl, to give it

I start to lick your body, you go to trembling

Flip it around, girl, lemme get it from the side

And can I visit all those spots you like?

Your neck, your back, your sexy lips, booty and thighs

“Jey!” She moaned grabbing the shower head above us as I pleased her. “I owe you one, cum for Daddy one more time baby,” I moaned as her hungry lust-filled eyes rolled back in her head.

“Shit!.....Hmm, happy birthday to me,” she gasped moving her hips against my tongue as I held her in place. Her pussy trembling against my mouth as I lapped up her juices, making sure to leave no part of her untouched as she rode my face, chasing her next nut.

I had never seen a more beautiful sight than what was before me. Kayla’s legs trembling, her head thrown back in pleasure as she gripped the shower head, rocking her hips against my mouth.

 “Mmhm, use me baby,” I moaned as I nipped at her clit, her gasps anxious and needy as I was relentless devoured her pussy with my mouth.

“Oh my God!” She gasped as I stilled her hips, swirling my tongue around her clit. “Jey, I’m....Again," her voice fading as her whole body began to shake as her orgasm hit her strong.

“I know, and I want it all.…. And.. I… Mean… Every….Single… Drop,” I groaned welcoming her essence.

 “Mmm, drink it all, Daddy! Fuck!”She cried, her hips continuing to writhe against my mouth as her orgasm washed over her for the third time tonight.

The sounds of her heavy breathing and moans were music to my ears as she smiled shyly down at me trying to catch her breath.

I'ma kiss it right (oh-oh), yeah, yeah

I'm gon' lick all night (oh-oh), yeah, yeah (girl, when I'm inside and I get to ya)

Girl, when I'm inside, yeah, yeah

Yeah girl, you heard what I said

'Cause I'm gonna make you wet the bed (bed), bed (bed), bed (oh)

I'm gonna make you wet the bed (bed), bed (bed), bed (oh)

“Thank you for your cooperation, you tasted so good,” I moaned kissing her thigh as she ran her fingers through my wet hair.

“No, thank you.” she whispered as I reluctantly I placed her back on the ground as she held the wall to steady herself.

I couldn’t help but smirk at my handy work.

“You think anybody heard us?” she asked as I chuckled. “I don’t care if they did.  I told you the first day what was gon’ happen on this balcony before this trip was over and I meant that shit,” I said as she blushed.

“Are we really engaged?” she whispered, still in somewhat disbelief looking at her finger as I smiled brightly at her. “Yes, we are engaged baby, and I can’t wait to make you my wife, “I whispered gently kissing her on the lips.

 “I can’t wait either…….Thank you for making my birthday special,” she said caressing my beard as I smiled.

 “Thanks for lovin’ me,” I said truthfully honored to have her in my life.

I knew it wasn’t going to be sunshine and rainbows every day, but I knew I couldn’t wait to do this thing called life with Kayla by my side.

 I knew we could make it through anything as long as we had each other, and I couldn’t wait for the next chapter in our lives.

The end

@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl  @theninthwonder @mya2real  @justazzi @whatdoeseverybodywant @reignsboy19 wooahmiri alichesmi pytbgeezy @ superpietom 

@truefant4sy

[sol-consort]

Thinking about Jaal and his whole "I'm not ashamed of my feelings" fiasco, how easily it can be twisted at the right opportunity.

Blurting out that he loves you whenever you even look in his direction—because it's what he was feeling at the moment and he really needed you to know. It's just... hard to repress feelings for an angara. It's like holding your breath. Eventually, your brain involuntarily forces you to inhale.

In bed he simply can't shut up about how good your insides squeeze his cock, he can't stop mumbling about how heavenly you feel wrapped around him. Breathless voice recounting declarations of love for the dearest to his heart through the moans and whimpers, his much bigger body covering you whole as he presses you into the mattress below in the dimly lit bedroom.

Pressing your lips against his own in a desperate attempt to quiet him down before he wakes up the whole ship crew, only to end up making things worse as he takes it as an invitation to completely go of whatever restraint remaied, let his instincts take the lead, and embrace his feral side.

Kissing you as if it's his last day alive, soft big paws kneading your thighs, giving way to sharp claws grazing the sensitive skin. Jaal's sharp brain reduced into a mush of blissful pleasure. He isn't in control anymore. He can't stop confessing his deepest desires and most intimate thoughts out loud. feverish desperation worn with pride akin to a devoted worshipper not ashamed of kneeling at the temple of their god.

A desperate need gnaws at his inside to make you understand, bare his soul to you, and offer you his fragile open heart on a silver platter. It just feels right and natural. Loving you must be his purpose in life.

[a-master-procrastinator]

Pauletta's OC Sexyperson Tournament - Round 1, Pair 10

Nevanor Irinú (Jedi Knight)

Miatra Stentar (side character from Silver Claw crew)

[telvess]

Record of Ragnarok: What kind of pet do they have?

I'm like Tesla 🤣

Jack

I once read that people who are broken or haven’t experienced much love as children tent to choose animals that are less popular and sometimes seen as bad omens, such as black cats or ravens. So I see that Jack has a rat as a pet. They are intelligent and very clean animals, with an unfairly given bad reputation, and I think that suits Jack very well.

Nicola Tesla

Hear me out, Tesla is the proud owner of a turtle. There's a joke going around turtle owners that every time the turtle does something - such as yawns or falls asleep - you take a photo or video of it and happily show it to everyone. This is Tesla. The entire science crew has a mailbox full of this kind of spam, and their all sigh whenever Tesla sends them a new video of his pet doing absolutely nothing.

Poseidon

I think he likes animals in general. He despises humans and most gods for not behaving as they should, but animals are themselves. They do what is expected of them, they are excellent at being themselves, if that makes sense. So Poseidon probably has a dog that he has trained very well. The dog listens to all commends and generally behaves very well.

Hades

It’s canon that Hades has a pet - cockatoo. These animals require a lot of attention from their owner, which makes sense because we all know how lonely Hades is. He is literally playing chess with it! The parrot probably knows some fancy words like „magnificent” or „mellifluous”, and a whole bunch of wine names that it randomly says. Adamas, by the way, puts some effort into educating the bird too and incidently teaches it how to swear.

Beelzebub

Given how little he cares and how little he CAN care, the only option he has is fish. He gives it a good tank, he remembers to feed it and that’s it. They just exist. Damn… how depressing…

Loki

Two options. First: SAND ANT FARM. He watches it from time to time, mocking the ants for poor direction choices or just messing up with them for funnies. Second option is ferret. Loki finds them both annoying and interesting. There’s no boredom with them.

Ares

Ares thinks highly about himself, after all he is a part of the most powerful pantheon and the son of Zeus. He believes that he deserves only the best, which mean that whatever animal he gets, it will be a pure breed. If he chooses a cat or dog, it will receives a golden pillow to sleep on, a silver food bowl, the fanciest toys, the best caretakers, and… „the best owner”.

Thor

Thor has a cat. Most of the time they simply exist in their spaces and don’t interact. But every now and then a cat comes to Thor and demands a scratch, which Thor gives without hesitation. Loki once overheard Thor talking to his pet in those rare moments. Surprisingly, he speaks in a very gentle and caring tone, almost like mother to her child.

Hajun

He probably has a tank full of dead fish. Never cleaned, never fed, never bothered.

Lu Bu

Lu Bu has a pussy. He had no intention of having a pet, so the cat had to choose him, and Lu Bu obligated. He gives it lots of scratches and plays with it. Lu Bu is unfazed by the claws. Hearing her meow when he isn’t close puts him in a fighting stance. Nobody hurts his cat girl.

Hermes

Budgies! The guy has a lot of responsibilities, he's probably the last to fall asleep and the first to wake up, but he still finds time for his melodious pets. They always get the best snacks and for some unknown reason they become very excited when Zeus is around.

Göll

She has hamster, as small and cute as she is. Göll tries very hard to provide it a happy life, which probably means she’s trying too hard. She asks all his sisters for advice, and knowing how many siblings she has, she probably ends up with very conflicting opinions.

Zerofuku

Definitely rabbit. They are both full of energy, do not pose a threat and just enjoy themselves on a clearing somewhere.

Buddha

He doesn't have a pet, but he occasionally looks after Zerofuku’s and Göll's pets. He complains that he doesn't have time and that he doesn't care, but in the end he has a great time with the rabbit and hamster.

Noah

I think he ends up with a pigeon. He just feeds it from time to time in the same place and slowly tames it. Before he knows it, the bird becomes a new part of his life. He tells it about his problems, about Luna, Jack, Mother Goose and Shakespeare. This pigeon has therapeutic properties.

Qin

Definitely a husky. I see just two idiots keep talking to each other and arguing over nothing. The more the emperor demands something, the louder the husky's tantrum will be.

[blorbocedes]

that talk about self belief is really important and something I think other drivers could benefit from hearing in f1, which keeps pushing the "having that dog in you," "he has a championship mentality but he doesn't," and really just ideologies that further stigmatize mental health struggles. it's refreshing to hear a world champion say something like that actually.

you have to be able to contextualize nico is saying this NOW, almost 8 years after he retired. he has no skin in the game now.

in 2016 and before, he was absolutely saying to the media "of course I believe I can be world champion" regardless of he did or not.

because the f1 media landscape is brutal, as much as we talk about #authenticity why on earth would you hand them this insecurity on a silver platter? can you imagine how fucked his mental health would be if every time lewis won a race, the articles say "rosberg, who believes he can't win, proves it again by losing to his teammate." ???

it is ultimately a sport, and an insanely competitive one at that. you can't be saying self-defeating rhetoric in public, not when you're the face of 500 ppl who work for you and on your car every weekend. how demotivated would the engineers and pit crew feel, if the driver they're working blood sweat and tears for doesn't even believe in himself?

ultimately, in sports some people DO believe they've got it, and some fake it til they make it. but this rhetoric to the public is also a way of protecting themselves, because how can you root for a guy who can't even believe in himself?

nico saying "but it's reassuring, you can still achieve great success even without believing in yourself if you are damn committed." goes to show he DID that have dog in him. he Was that damn committed, he clawed his way to victory. he's the "do it, even if it's scary. do it scared."

[cipheramnesia]

Vivisection

I sloughed the shell in a flourish of our shared sweat, blood, and mucus. Cold on the steel-grated floor lift, tech eyes wide over me as my psyche twitched itself back together from the needles. My eyes said you must be new but my mouth spoke in thick puked up fluid whilst my sopping slick shuddering fingers clawed nerve pads off my tits and slid catheter from my dick. All of us nerves had little twitches of pleasure as we found ourselves whole, and made it to sitting.

"Towel," I found language, and the tech handed it, eyes carefully elsewhere at the pink and red cockpit still quivering in urgency, wet with quenched desires. Methodically cleaned under the wet warm terrycloth ministrations, top to standing, adjusting to eyes and ears 'side skin and taste. The hangar was all echoes of more experienced crew on the teardown fifty feet up and down the shell, didn't need the look I turned anyway at my love, the crab. Rested claws in bands of carbon, four squat legs and rolling condensation off the quieting spiracles. Charred, twisting armor coated over with clotted brown patch like scabs and fading blue drips of other less evils' blood, sparkling at places from shattered refractive layers, spongy intrasteel glistening through here and there. Below it discharged glutinous tar from the trap, all spent oil and shock fluid plus shells and fused filters, burned heat hexes all and all bound for the reprocess, someone else's hand-me-down armor or shoes.

The wasp staggered past us to its own home sweet safety net so I hung the rail in a gentlemanly way and bade our tech meet my goddess in crime at her door. "They have their own lift," the tech observed. My goosebumps agreed, emphasizing the questionable temperature, but a lady must pay her respects. "I don't care," I suggested so we went.

Parked up under those gangly legs adripped with the glow and silver of thirty confirmed kills and gored holes through musculoskeletal tubing told the tale, I held my arms in chivalry as the mandibles underside the shell parted ways and dripped Ari into my embrace along side her own deluge of girl-juice and veined amniogel shreds. Knees buckled as my stomach protested my lack aforethought, but no one could dispute the benefits of a girl pressed against my breasts, slinging her long arms around me. She barfed over my shoulders, warm and phlegmy.

Ari'd pulled her cords in the shell like a good girl, still shook gainst my skin as she stuttered, "fuh- fuh- fuh-" while I jerked my head at the tech who shrugged. Outta towels, well my bad. Leaned us on the railing and thought about tonight, you know the human body's pretty heavy all said? "Your... skin is... freezing!" she articulated, not a request mere observation, but my arms acquiesced nevertheless. We leaned on each other watching black muck drain from the wasp's thorax, standing around naked in a pool of shell vomit. "Yer dumb," she added, hocking up more phlegm. "Now're both shlimy." The other shells crawled in with the tide, blasted with sterilizing powder and steam, various scorpions and mosquitos and spiders seeking succor as we finally made our way down the textured rubber steps.

"Fuckin so hungry," Ari slurred, dribbling blood and saliva while my own stomach answered midst shouts of our squad as they were reborn, crawling free and bloodied from the shell, some still babbled nonsense, tried to move limbs no longer bodied and no shame to them. "You threw up so much, 'spected," I said. Watched Spinning Jenny shaking mucus off his head, snapping teeth together.

"Gonna eat three horses," Ari added. "Fuck potatoes, my dick can fuck a pile of potatoes I'm starving." She shook my shoulder, my legs wobbled in tune, "Clingy bitch." But her hand stayed, fingers digging the tense muscles in my back, mine squeezed her hips. "Casey I want you to hold me down and force feed a gallon of cheese into me." Managed to cross the whole hangar naked, didn't eat shit. Techs hooted appreciating and I tried to bow but just did a cockeyed vanity wave. Brain twitched but kept my cool, remembered I don't see in sonar. "Maybe later tonight," I murmured sotto voce. I cleaned the fresh blood from my ears with a pinky finger.

Lockers, showers, Ari always liked when I soaped and dried her, little bit of a tease, ease of limbs back into bodily limits. She was wiping gunk from her eyes, still going, "I fuck shit swear I'm getting mission reruns in my sleep now. Bullshit we don't hang on to PDN memories, I've deffo had the same shit we throw at the elves in my head at night."

"They're not elves," I said.

"Whatever, magical monster tree bugs, I dunno, are you getting shell feedback?" I was toweling her thick curls, my own short hair dried sweet quick. Threw on those almost paper scrubs. Sexy. "Babe, we all got feedback, I'm not even sure how much me is in my mind."

She grabbed my hair and gave my head a little shake, "Lucky you, I'll fuck your brains out anyway," and blew my hair out my eyes. I grabbed her hand and pushed back, she swooned, we crushed hard as team shelled and molted, in bed or in field. Just a way to anchor, comes with the piloting, nothing new. Lots of pilots fall in twos and fours of strange bedfellow - gets you back in mind after so long parted. "Shut the fuck up," she said to my smile, shoved back, I reeled her in and smiled more til she punched my shoulder. "Fuck you, feed me." We joined the aching crowd clustering to the mess hall.

Slammed our piled trays on a table, minutes later. Scatter Hawk had beat us there somehow, last in the bay, first to the hay per usual. Jelly was still in their hair and they were tearing into a pile of beef flavored protein patties they'd slathered with garlic chili sauce and pickled carrot chips. Shoved it in their blood-smeared face with mixed results twohanding a fork, missed the target 30% of the time. "Glad you're a better shot with the 40," I suggested and they replied, "Slip your own dick sideways fish brisket," spittle and snot sprayed with each word, language not quite in the altogether I guess. I slapped some nerves back into their shoulder and they grunted wetly and appreciatively.

Ari pushed me onto the bench and dropped down, catted up against me and chugged hot sauce from the tube, followed by a fistful of fake bacon and chips dripping with jalapeños. "Thid fit gess weeper effy dah" she spat out with a mouthful of half chewed food, elbowing my ribs in the process, so I slipped my hand over her thigh and gave her a reassuring stim. I was busy with whatever passed for kimchi and pork flavored protein while the table started filling up with other pilots eating an entire day's worth of food in one sitting, trying to feel and speak and touch and taste all at once with mixed successes, all of us trying to pick our nerves up from the sludge being in the shell made out of our bodies. DeeDee shoved a fork at us and said, "Fuck were you, suckin dick? Tank's supposed to keep hits off."

"Yeah, take many hits?" I wiped the dribbled of blood off my lip.

"Like ten! Two in a lung!" He jabbed a beef patty for table wobbling emphasis.

Barely audible Ari whispered, "You're alive aren't you?" Head was drooped under her curled hair near to my level, flying below table radar, still about hit direct to a nerve with DeeDee's bloodshot eyes going big and Hellis beside scooting its flat ass away but none of us got further into what manner of dicks weren't or were sucked (my carefully planned speech - about the pincer move we broke while I was still jamming longways thanks and the relationship of DeeDee's dick being vaporized vis a vis our suckage - wasted). Squad command rudely storming our table with the demand: "Death Claw! Kill Strike!"

Silence resumed in sudden shock as he stood authority thrust chinward, all our eyes tracking the table. He repeated the command, "Death Claw! Kill Strike!" Silence abounded, roamed the plains, handed him a look of weary resignation as his lips, with all the distaste of gingerly dropping a dead rat into a toilet, formed, "Kitty Candy and Raccoon Enchantment," he struggled to recover his momentum but the wind was dead, "I need to speak with you both." Tablewide "ooooo" and Spinning Jenny added "someone's in trouuuble," as we took our ways in the talking wake of the baron of bluster.

Followed breadcrumbs of wet bootie prints and bloodsmeared walls back to the old bay so he could scream at us with an echo. "You semen stains mind explaining what the fuck you were doing back in that shitshow?"

Her nose was bleeding heavily again and I could feel Ari's arm spasm as she pushed close behind me, whispering without sound. I had answers mercifully drowned in a wad of spit and phlegm suddenly dumping into my mouth and down my chin.

"Gods you're all fucking sick. Disgusting. Got nothing to show for it?"

I swallowed another gob of something unpleasantly solid which mercifully shot from my lungs into my mouth giving moments for me to think forward. Rare enough, I treasured them. Figured best not mention what was the thing, blowing the drop bolts early cuz she wanted to try and fire the primary on the wasp from directly above a banyan whilst midair, sans stabilizers, which for the record she hit the thing but caught an extra eighth mile sky above the crate.

"Listen," I gurgled, wiped off my face. ("Listen SIR," he interjected, so I waved indulgently.) "Hurgle. My decoms pinged a hostile lake, looked like a stand of banyans an' a anthill so we bailed at drop beta." Ari's fingers drug out blood from under my paper sleeve, fuck ridiculous she's like eight inches taller trying to make my ass into partial cover.

"Drop beta," he repeated the words to emphasize their unwelcome intrusion to his shriveled brain. I realized the part of my memories with this squad commander's name got sliced in the shell. His face was twitching as bad as mine ever has. "There was no drop beta! There was one site, slash and burn, the end!"

"Well lucky you! We set one up before that swampfire cut our lines up, no thanks necessary please, you know we do it for the love of our jobs."

He looked at the melted up muscle and vatsteel carapace curves of my beloved crab and wasp. Some mirror shaved surfaces, bug blood all black where it congealed. "Fuckin trannies, disgusting, undisciplined- Why we hire so many I don't even-"

"C'mon, you know we're your best guys."

"You're literally my worst guys! If I had anyone else fucked in the head enough to shove into those- those fucking meat grinder abominations, I'd dump your freakshow asses so far in the back beyond you'd fart just for the conversation!"

I elbowed Ari in the gut before she said something dumber than I had in mind. "You know the old saying, a tranny in the shell will give em all hell."

His face snapped shut like crab's load-in maw. Gritted teeth rumbled, "Scrape duty for the next two hours." He shoved us out of the way off to ruin someone else's sex lives, his own probably.

Two hours and two trays of congealed processed protein with vinegar and hot peppers, we trudged down the narrow hall to bunk. The ganglia stopped twitching but it'd been a minute last I had this much elf blood under my nails and my hair reeked of burned polyfilament lubricant.

Ari stretched her arms back because the ceiling was too low for up grumbling, "Don't wanna spec nother fuckin face for a whole shift." I shrugged half drop slept and headed my roomways, brought to heel with her hand on my wrist. "The fuck you think you're going, you promised." Her, lips, just as crusted with blood and snot as mine still a cute pout in dire times.

I gauged my cramping stomach up against that hand and those lips. We hadn't been on-mission for a sec, and fuck for the moment I'm only human and very horny. Still. "You said-"

"People, I mean people." She punched the latch and I let her reel me into her narrow cabin, coming attractions you could call it. I said, "Babe, you gotta pick up your underwear - or anything - sometime." Ari grabbed a bottle of the rancid wine someone was making from cooking oil and caramelized vinegar. She put it against my chest, and put us against the stowage wall, and put her tongue into my throat. Her lips were gunpowder nachos, burning hot, both of us careless to chapped cracked open blood. I took a slug of the wine, with its notes of artificial PTSD raspberry flavor, as she pulled the bunk from the wall. I held up the bottle, tipped it to her lips, spilled it into her mouth, on her face, down her bare flesh and cheap scrubs.

Ari yanked it away and tossed it to the refuse under her fully unused sliver of a desk. I grabbed her by the front of her scrubs, they tore, so I grabbed her arm and fumbled us against the edge of the cot, struggling with my pants and paper booties. "Fucking elastic, now it works?" Ari tried to rip the pants off, snapping a yelp and a shock outta me when she snapped the band on my stomach, so I pushed my hand into her pants and grabbed her dick, hip checked her onto her back on the cot, then furiously yanked both our pants off. We smashed tongues and lips again, her guided by my fingers in her hair, me by her nails on my back, furrows through the grime mottling my acne scarred skin. I clambered onto her, a full tangle of legs and elbows with the sweet serenade of the cot, joints protesting weight and unwelcome thrashing. But I had hold of her now, me and my little growls, her softly repeating "please," as I pressed our hips, tits, lips together. Teased and pinched on and around her nipples, scratched the welcome back real world long her ribs, pulled myself to myself with her rhythmic panting breaths. Shudders passing through from her to me, traded in kind as we reminded our bodies and each other of the dwindling human embers in our chests, the dregs of what once was bright and happy in the world still enough between us to reignite into the shape we suffered through bereft of shells. A minute for our hearts to hammer together, to take in the mossy dried blood scent, the reek of sweat and metal, both of us hard and slick against one another.

When she murmured, we gingerly squirmed our legs and arms around and across each other til Ari lay on her stomach, the pathetic, thin excuse of a mattress rolled under her chest and arms. Lube was spread over her ass and my fingers with wasteful urgency. I worked my hands slowly down her back, gently caressing her sync ports with my thumb, watching them contract and gape with her moans. The lips of them tingled and sent pulses of pleasure through my hands from lingering protonerves. Moved downward to her ass and sliped in one finger at a time, stroking inside her folds, touching her walls, three in and rhythmic spreading and relaxing as she sucked in air, so I leaned up close and slipped my tongue into her neckport, the sphincter closed tight and opened wide and I could feel my ports sympatic response, taste her tasting tasting her. She twisted her pillow into knots and I pushed my cock into her as my fingers slipped out, slowly, feeling her tense up and relax.

Slivers of amniogel squished against my cock in her ass, protonerves shot echos of her through me, flaring and then crushed between us. We pressed ourselves closer, trading pulses back and forth, that one flashing minute of her ass against my hips and one hand on her dick, my face in her hair, one hand pressing into jer back ports, letting her suck the lube from my other hand. It was almost the ecstasy of feeling our minds dissolve into one another. Then we moved again. Hours or minutes, I felt her cum trickle over my hands and wiped it on her thigh as I kept going. Mucus spilled from her contracting back sphincters and my own. Fucking the trace of vat grown life to death until we might have a hope of sleep tonight.

It was humid and reeked of sex, everything about Ari barely fit, except for me, so we stole away these moments from each other to remember and forget. It was nothing in the world, but it was better than dying alone. My leg hung off the bed when we had rolled free of one another, too filthy to breathe and too wasted to shower. My elbow and hip hurt from banging against the wall. Her legs were curled up and her left knee jabbed painfully into my thigh, I couldn't find a place to put my right arm and it was falling asleep but the tingle felt better than trying to stand up. Head was jammed into my neck, couldn't be comfortable, I brushed tangles out of her hair. Muffled, she said, "You smell bad."

"You love it. You missed my pit stank, my demure little corpseflower." She made gagging noises into my clavicle. "I'm gonna have to go back to my nice bunk where the floor is clean, can't stay under my wing forever birdie."

"Whatever," I felt her lips mashed against me with each word, and braced for her to shove me off bed, but her arm just squeezed me closer. "Can so stay f'rever," she sounded almost asleep, her head pushed closer to me and she muttered something like "glove mew bits."

Rolled eyes, but pressed a little closer. "Sure, marinate some new strain of bacteria, they can spatula us out the morning." Unprepared by her momentary snuggle, my ass hit the floor in a pile of unwashed tanktops with a sleep slurred "fuck off."

I left my dignity in the laundry and blew a kiss. "You're gonna hate you in the morning if you sleep that way," she made and grumpy noise and wrapped herself around the rolled up mattress, trying and failing to fit on the metal cot. I tripped a little on the way out the door, on my half naked way to a luxury five minute hot shower to a low bid bargain cold sleep.

Dreams told tales from the shell. Techs all swore in the slice nothing transfers. True enough we lost a short term or three but that's the balance to cost against feedback, they said. Dreams were my four legs crushing earth compact from the drop jump as my decoms rolled over the banyans and bugs slinging spells, my nightmost terrors unfolding from the PDN and flooding their foci and fetishes. In the mindscape ground ran fluid under mechanized polyplastic muscle, the world putty with my gargantuan claws. Chaff launched from deep inside my chambered shell to spark the incoming green, a deathly spray to casual sunblock rads, no mind to armored skin.

Myriad wave of banyans moving, windblown, roots crawling, but there she is, my darting wasp hurling her thousand stings, finding targets in my trackers n hackers through the grassfield bugs. Their blood glows blue, all the work of their spells to brittle silver threads that fall to pieces. She lands and I bathe the hill in freaks, veritable fog of messy tracking til her thorax slides open and erects its throbbing, winged main gun, legs planted, struts in, and a hurricane throws banyan trunks to shreds, clears a canyon of death, and she screams, and I see the branches from the earth tearing her apart, I am slow, bogged in sudden mud, green spears her, the angry earth rips her legs from limb, black ichor and green coolant and I wake up screaming as she shouts for me to go. Clutching the metal edge to my cot, seeking my body again, for a moment unable to hear or see, I exist only as pounding blood and raw nerves til each flexed muscle brings me to human.

Some time passes to rise, rollout hours more hence, I spent time to feel my body, put on shorts and t-top and try to forget the dream and Ari's voice screaming for me to leave her.

I tried to sleep the echo away, then folded my cot and dug the glass bottle of beauties. Rattled a couple hatch-down to flatten it out. Nothing doing, no washing or wiping or jerking off removed the unwelcome night haunt, so I made my soft shod way down to mess.

Rigs like these, there's never quiet. Air cycles, night crew, the odd distant clatter we all always hoped wasn't the seconds off warning of full breach. I paused by Ari's door, halfway to clacking it, but moved counterspin towards mess. No sense both of us losing sleep over one misfire of psyche. Half light in the mess, couple plotters and binders poked listless fried protein and I took my separate peace with a cup of the juice. Sick sweet chemflavor kicked caffeine to my heart and guts enough to winnow away the hours trying a dozen different flavors of artificial spice on artificial food, feeling artificially alive.

DeeDee showed in first after rollout, guy was never not angry at me over some shit, angry at something, put a lot of that through the lines good for us. Hellis always hung round, I specced on their afterhours but never pried the privates. Wouldn't have minded a bunk with either, but oh well. Shadow Jumper and Stepper and Jenny and so on filing their way through gallons of sickening juice and overcooked daybreak. Ari was last in, skulking through the rising shine and din of the mess, caught a tangle of her eyes but crowds were parting our ways.

"See how long you last without that filter, you'd hurl minimal," Jenny kept prodding at Scatter Hawk putting away more forkfulls than any two of us, just grunting back, while DeeDee yelled down the table at Stepper over horrendous and audible farts. I couldn't find a minute to catch Ari's eyes, roll em back and forth with mine, she was digging a hole through her tray.

I spent a frustrated week shipping past her nights. Some asshole I learned was apparently in charge of the squad demanding press-ups and running laps spin wise. Got mad when I said we don't use any muscles and I had to do extra sit-ups, and I threw up and didn't see Ari in the lockers. Tear down on the crab, coming and she was on her grease stained way showers, grimacing. Asleep when I catted around her doors at the odd hours. Anxiety in my spare space left my skin crawling. Ran into her at the psyche cracker and said hey, how you doin? Ari said, "Fine," with those tangled up eyes.

"You okay? I do something you wanna talk?" Whatever was left inside my skull felt like it wanted me to vomit it through my ports. My intestines wanted my skin rippled.

She shook her head. "It's not. You're good, you're good, I just." She shook her head again, tugged the hem of her shirt. Bless I was horny as fuck but just wanted to untangle her eyes, please.

"Listen, I got-"

"Casey!" The skull breaker slid its door up. Check-in time, its glassed eyes and masked mouth glittered, jovial work for a septic system.

"Ari, one second doc. Hey."

Backing down the hall, miming apologies. "I'll see you around Case."

I got a good grade from the psyche. "Very little degradation today," it exclaimed. "Your connectivity must have been quite well balanced! If you maintain this synchronization, we can expect to keep memory and autonomic function nearly optimal. Please ensure you take your supplements to maintain neural plasticity, excellent work!"

It always ignored my questions so I didn't ask anymore but one time I looked up "autonomic" and I was not very excited about the implications. Clacked Ari's door on the way back roomwards, to no result. Shut my door hard, rattled more beauties down my gullet and lay on the floor, tossed aside my psyche chart with all its healthy green and admonishing yellow. Degradation did not feel minimal, I was fragile with worry and my body wanted to fly apart, uncontained by the shell and trembling with skin crawling fear. Nothing flattened, the spin felt too fast, and I wiped confused wetness off my face. I clenched fists to my sides and shook uncontrollably. When would the drop would come?

Rolled out and rounded up came down soon enough against my liking. Marched our asses cross to the bay and posted us up. The squad leader looked uniquely miserable for each syllable of "Kitten Candy! Raccoon Enchantment!" He might actually kill me if he figures out how I changed our call signs.

Ari lurked behind me, sleep deprivation coming off her in radiant heat. I'd woke on the aching floor to rollout chimes, back still sharp from the sleep I should've skipped. She'd been doing teardown some long hours fore we got the callout. "Since you two reliably fuck up anything more complicated than bright colors and shapes, you're doing drop targeting. Three sites, think you can handle it?"

"Probably not, SIR!" I said, and he was not amused, Ari flopped hands affirmatively over the task a drone could do.

"Get synced up because that's the mission. Fuck off, the adult pilots are talking."

Could've argued, didn't, not with the halides in my skull and Ari walking away for the wasp. "Hey! Hey." Caught up around and walked with her. "Lotta radio silence, you good? I mean, girl, you look like shit, but you good?" We reached the lift. My hand was more tentative on her shoulder than my first time trying on a bra. "Are, like, are we? You know, did I say something?"

"Shit, you're fuckin impossible," Ari pulled a smile from an awful place. "Never said nothing except all I wished-" She started climbing. "Ah, fuck off, you know you're good. So good I want... like, fuck. I'm good. Had feedback something fierce this week. Hcch." I walked behind her, hand at her back and lifted, she grabbed my wrist. "C'mon, bitch, gimme a boost up."

The tech up top had the wasp open, long tongue dangling, pink, dripping ready to enfold. The mandibles were an umbrella over us, the whole cockpit slung between a sensaray and fire platform up front and the main gun taking up most of the thorax, flightless wings for short jumps and bristled with beams and missiles webbed into veins and live nerves. Ari stripped off her clothes and I helped her with the mass of thick tubes dangling from the soft flesh of the wasp's underbelly. Gentle with the catheter while she gripped my shoulder, taping the skin contacts on, then slipping the fat red sync cables and their gently writhing filaments into the sphincter along her neck and spine.

"Hey." I looked up from making stirrup hands and Ari's fingers lifted me from kneeling. "You be here when we come back, kay? I don't wanna open this cage if I don't see your ugly mug waiting."

"You fuckin wish," I said. "Believe, I'll be here, I got nothing better to do."

She had that smile, eyes almost past her tangle. "Yeah, what the fuck do I care, you're just, like. Well fuck you, anyway, you better be here, no excuses."

I put my hands together and knelt. "No excuses, bitch." She stepped into me and I hoisted her up until the closing mandibles caught her and pulled her the rest of the way in. The wasp began to breathe, the metal and polymer exoskeleton tightening as it straightened. The multiplicably enfolded legs flexed all their joints. I made my way from Ari's lift to my own, perspective and spin distorted neath my crab all encompassing the view and my world. The stairway to its cockpit was considerably longer, but no aid was needed. Sixfold mandibles waited for me, tubes lay cross the steel grate for my own administration. That same tech still couldn't look as I stripped and strapped. Didn't need help with my ports, just held crab's feelers up and they squirmed their way to the intimate fibers of my spinal cord. I sighed and my ports contracted to pull the connections deeper to the nerve.

The tech muttered, "I can't cope with the freaky shit," stepped off lively. Probably thought I couldn't hear as I wound myself into the folds of the crab's intimacy, and was encased in the dark. The peristaltic folds squeezed and swallowed me into the wet warm depths in the heavy polycombine plate armor of our turret. Impact gel, amniogel, blood and mucus flowed over my feet and hands, the added nerves and plasm more deeply fusing us. I felt my vision shriveling through a tunnel, my gritty eyes black in my skull, each muscle of my limbs unfurled from bones to thread themselves into the limbs of a colossus. My spine grew through my skin to blossom across a carapace and turret, flexed my claws and the wide flat armor wings across my back, felt the hangar through its myriad complex electrical systems and programs running in constant state of adjustment. I could smell the synapses of the crew inside the rig, all the redundant added systems, multiple layers of security, still so vulnerable inside this soft underbelly. My web crackled and fluttered along my body. I could kill everyone around me with a thought and leave only my fellow, slumbering shells for company.

I vacuumed air through my body and filters, hundreds of pounds in a breath. Piece by piece I cut my mind free of its cage, each part of it a point in a web of a thousand stars to guide my way. How had I ever let myself believe I could be human? How could I be when I was this, so much more, the parts of my mind I never before realized were incomplete. Destroy me, I urged the crab. Consume the last of my flesh and bones, and let me free once and for all. I slipped my claws out of their bands and tested link with wasp - with Ari. She vibrated enthusiasm, her stimulant chemicals were flooding overtime, and I selected the clam path of her many input and system indexes to aid her, grant her focus to the still before the burn. The dropship waited and we obliged, neither of us patient for departure and planet fall, once again to taste the alien atmosphere and feel true gravity pull at our tissue and joints.

Countdown for slow minutes, and we jammed to our sync. I felt at peace, each part of my psyche sliced from itself, and we lay distributed across our body, through small cortexes fired with the parts of my consciousness. We ticked through systems and my subconscious night terrors spooled into projectors while my self sense expanded to the decom in preparation for target tracking. Ari and I could feel one another as we synced, her slender body and long legs torquing their secondary legs into alignment. Her deepest horrors became a narrow band of foci, accompaniment to each one of her eight gun placements

We swayed for a minute as the drop slid out through the bay doors til thrusted still in a white noise of rocket and atmosphere. Open doors spilled a flurry of blinding light and boiling air. We cut the cord and took flight. Fission cycled to jets and Ari soard around my less graceful lander module decel, both flirtatious and efficient. Earthshaking on point, I breathed in the beacon for the first drop target, then pulled myself free of deeply fertile soil, felled the odd red thornbush in the way of our determinedly stealth free journey. Ari was more nimble in her travels, caught us both up fair to the prep kit. My decom swept all sides of the range for crevices of organized blue, and looked through my wavspec for tattletale knurled arms and segmented torso trunks.

"Whistle clean," I thrummed to Ari and she slipped up through to the prep barely shifting a twig. My hearts beat in time to her showy work then my pace crushed the evidence in passing. Exultation flooded my glands and fluttered my filtration, we set to the lungs of the future. My claws could lift and move enough whilst Ari's more dexterous complex digits hooked in power, nutrient starter, bacteria loads. All color coded and writ large enough couple pilots couldn't fuck it up, track records notwithstanding. Few hundred and we'd be able to turn the toxic swamp of atmosphere to nearly breathable. Plenty for firsts, let them deal with the messy genes for the twenty-threes to come later. Not us, not our yards and acres of lungs filtered enough to breathe near vacuum. Minutes confirmed the bactomix was good, and we beamed our confirmation.

"Nice and tidy," Ari observed the dirt churned circle round the target. I tasted the ground, messy but starter ready.

"Good enough. It'll be dust in a year anyway. Grab a ride?" We're supposed to march it point to point, no riders no passengers, but it's slow n tedious. She grappled to my exo instead. Put a safe-ish distance from the drop target, hunkered. Earth churned to mud and boiled around my feet as we sank down, I wrenched all I could from dirt rocks clay, sprayed hot waste out my vents, and we exploded into the air on jets carved from living thorns and earth, second drop in record time. Nothing rumbled I could spec but still. "Tastes sour," I trembled contact to contact. Ari slithered down and crouched near my shoulder.

Moments she said, "It's stilled air, might be some action crosswinds." Her wings flexed a bit and we looked for the petrichor druid chemsign. At range I could pick out just the echo of their craft, the sizzle of their spells registered a bare zero zero DV scale. "Specced it, action's noways near," I thrummed between us. "Sus, though, we're ahead of schedule, let's walk it." She affirmed, and we moved like glass, opened the target pack and specced every step.

Thorns still, sharp rocks earth clay uphill still, air still, but the maddening aquamarine fuzz of rain cluttered my sights. Ari flexed her wings on her thorax again, rocket platforms twitched nervously. "There's too much fizzing," she hissed, picking up my discomfort. Gauss guns on her sensary pointed hither and yon. "Fuck it," I thrummed, "Bact's good, bail." She mounted me from behind and we dug in the dirt, boiled and processed and locked. Branches burst up from earthbound as every spec greenlined on me, and I screamed in sickeningly fractured agony.

I could feel my exo cracking where the branches of an Atlas banyan crushed around three of my legs, pain and fluids pouring out of my body. Had to be a twin trunk, at least. Even my spiracles bled. Jagged shapes stung my left claw and numbed one of my injured legs. I could hear Ari's screeching and felt her weight shift from me to the ground. My specs were greened out in swampfire, I could taste the ozone and my own charred exo, but I was blind.

"I can't scope!" Ari's panic crackled and echoed through my body, fuled the rush of toxic stims and lit up my heat sinks bright from overclock. "I'm on it, I've got guidance," I lied, throwing a narcofilter into com. I dialed in broad spec and fired a wave of chaff, unspooled PDN for mass nightmare. Swapped high-speed into UV infra sonic organize scope range til I could line out the elves. Ari's screeches spiraled in time to hits I felt in my neuron clusters, dirt and rocks rattled from being skywards. Contermanded a second hit of stims in my system, cooled collect.

Instant recovery between the chaff and PDN. The stinging cold geometry faded its intensity on my exo. I experienced the reward of disrupted Atlas' soundscreams enduring the mortifying ordeal of being scoped. Shortburst the dial range to Ari. Caught backflow of her relief. Found the seconds we needed to move.

The Atlases were over halfway out of the soil, still partly wrapped their heavy branches over Ari and me. Quad trunks, fuck. Druid support, double fuck. The fully exposed organizing casters ways off, spec a kilo or two, but their alien decoms were holding up to the PDN. I pulled back to Ari and my pain receptors shut off the instant my legs twisted and shed broken exo like ice, steel grinding itself each movement. I checked her stat. Half a leg and one wing had been torn off. Her body was coated with slick black and green fluid, mixed with white foam. Her secondary leg was intact and functional, but I could see six bad hits from those light spears.

I cut loose a second wave of chaff, narrowed for the type-beta shieldworks from the druids, scattered an arch of green spears - I put my wings and claws out front to do their job just in time to take the secondary hit of jagged blue geometry. My back legs twisted excessively past their limit. The tri-polyplate claws held, mostly, some smoldering layers blasted free and others melted. I tight focused neural disruptors at the Atlases, cut more chaff, joyed at their screams of fear and agony. "Ari, my target." She swayed but unfolded her stabilizer struts, hit one of them with three rockets, a particle shot, and a full sec from the gauss, frosted it's decom and tore up the left half of its body. Glistening dark blue blood exploded across the other two and it laid out, alive but no threat. Heat fins spread wide open white hot underside her wings, her legs. "Casey your fuckin legs they-"

I flickered low beams at the druids, didn't connect but gave em a minute to think, redirected a broad neural disrupt at our six, more encouraging screeches, I filled the crab with the worst of my mind to saturate multiple kilometers in the PDN of my own fears and nightmares. "Ari, not now, cover."

Even on a wing and half a leg she was a beautiful flower of agony, spread of rockets, heavy beams, blistered depslugs streaking from her to seek the druids proved weakest by their alchemical conversion to bright blue explosions of blood and bone. Steamed heavy off her sink. The second Atlas was fighting up through my disrupt. I hit it with a PDN flare mix, and didn't catch the green blue spellwork shield crackling twixt its bark til I had to duke it.

The Altas caught a claw with one limb, put two more into my main body, right center, and I was overwhelmed by the vomit stench of my tissue and exo and endo rupturing, polymuscles shredded, but I boiled my feet in deep with stage one for jump, and got my other claw on its middle trunk. My com was choking garbled but I said, "Ari-" before I felt the left rear third joint sheer and snap.

She was to me before I could waver with her forelegs' high beam up to max in its face. Light hotter than stars burst the banyan into three flaming pieces, sheer through the trunk, bloodless, charred beyond recognition in a second. She buzzed me. "We can't stay." The last of the Atlases was pulling a highdef organized multiplier out of the earth. Looked like pine tree trunk but carried in a single limb. I specced another Atlas closing. One good HDOM shot would dust my armor. One bad shot would vaporize Ari. "You're right."

I tried to spool up, but the PDN was dead, so I blasted chaff along the ground in front of the Atlas. Give it some hot shrapnel to work through, dialed the rest for max dispersal, and cut three quarters skyward. "Grab a lift," I snarled and she was on me. "And set your main."

The earth churned and my legs threatened to give, but held. "Case. I tried that last week, rec? I couldn't hit shit."

"Yeah. You tried it. We didn't." I hit the jump, we caught sky.

Ari's limbs folded around my body, and her remaining claws clamped, support struts pierced my exo secondary limbs unfolded to add more stability. She shifted the main rifle forward from inside her thorax and opened the remaining wing, heat vents fully extended, coolant spraying out of her wounds as it pumped triple time through her sinks. Her thorax flexed heavy with breath and the gun's wiring and nerve rigs flushed the scent of her excited musk around us. I wrapped my three remaining legs up over my body and clung to her, spun us with my wings on our axis. We had a beautiful aerial view of the remains of our own ambush, our legs fallen close like hands of dying lovers.

The main gun of the wasp would not be possible to see if we had human eyes. A three stage system requiring the finest care with aiming and multiple stabilizers to the firing platform ensuring a clean hit, combined with full heat dispersal for blowback. It would break up shield and decoms, disruptors and polyplate, followed instantly by a particle beam depslug mixture.

I wrapped my claws over her cockpit segment and she fired. The slug obliterated the Atlas, its multiplier detonating and spraying organized green spears haphazardly with blue geometry. The drop target went up and threw a cloud of concentrated bacto over what looked like eight kilometers. I saw the beam digging a canyon through the earth moments before the bacteria and debris blacked the site.

We were thrown, I lost a second leg and both wings. Deaf to coms. My chaff clattered off us, shredded our armor. The full thorax and both of Ari's rear legs were torn away by recoil and a furnace blast of overheating power couplings as I held fiercely, even when my left claw was cleanly severed by the last flash of the beam and my main body punctured and boiled by her shrapnel. I realized I wasn't deaf, I simply was unable to hear anything except Ari screaming and lost valuable seconds - nothing to see but sky and only rushing air over our spinning bodies.

I jetted waste from my secondary vents, they spat angrily but caught air. Risked it, held Ari with my only two legs and put my claw between us and the freight train rush up on drop target three. I hoped enough was left of her to hear me shout, "Impact Impact Impact!"

The ground was very wide and very fast and black. It was-

Nothing. Black.

Casey. Casey. You need to get up.

"Casey," Ari's hiss was a near inaudible comm. "Casey please... I can't move my legs."

I specced, half blind, dialed it through. There was a flicker of distant green. Move. I felt joints and plastic muscle, raw tissue and white foam dig the earth, I moved in a little circle. The drop ship was waiting - no pilot, just auto for a grunt mission in and out.

"I'm up," I lied to Ari. She hissed, "I know you aren't." I specced myself. One leg could move, claw somehow intact, thank you polyplate. Other legs just partial joints, trailed their hydraulics and burned nerves. Quarter chopped off the rear platform. "Am so," I thrummed and put my claw in the ground, levered. Slid my partial legs underneath and my one good one up. "I'm up." I started pushing myself along the earth.

Felt like dragging the big protein drums on kitchen duty, couldn't lift much as rock myself back and forward one side at a time. I found what was left of Ari.

"How's it look," she hissed. One of her two remaining legs was shattered in half a dozen places, congealed foam doing nothing for the fluid leaks. Her other leg might last. Sensary might even be salvageable. There were holes gaping in her deformed cockpit, gel and blood oozing through cracks. "Looks great," I thrummed. "You lost so much weight."

Her laugh wheezed. "You got one good leg Ari, I need you to hitch a ride." She fumbled in the mud and found the tattered edge of my exo, dragged herself half onto what was left of my main body, and I pushed. Her voice was distant now, "Hey Case, remember that night fight, we jumped a bunch of elves with a flashblind."

Just a few meters. "Yeah, pretty funny. Guess they remembered us." She wheezed again, her comm was rattling. "And that time we used ice for heat sig?" My claw hit metal. I strained on the loading ramp without traction. "That was pretty good too, yeah." Fuck it. I grabbed one of the less important control struts and heaved, pulled. Felt my innards and Ari slither along metal, almost home. One more pull. "Hey Casey, hey. Remember when the fuckin elves ambushed us with our same dumb ideas and you thought I should shoot em on the jump."

I punched the recall code, the hatch cranked shut, dumped the tangled mess of our bodies into the drop bay. Acceleration crushed us. "Yeah Ari, that wasn't the best idea ever." The rig loomed up. "Right Ari? I'm an idiot." The comm was quiet.

We were in the bay and I was in a pool of sludge. I could feel my legs and arms and bruises and my own real blood on my face. I could walk and and almost stand, crawling clambering falling down the lift stairs before the tech could say anything. He slipped after me, clutched railing and tried to keep his footing in the mucus as I went sidewinding to our sad and shattered shells, tech prying open the jaws of Ari's with hydraulic levers.

I shoved through as the seal cracked, reek of poisoned atmos and stagnant amniogel, the snap of bone and it fell open, pouring Ari onto the hanger floor, washed up against me. I was on my knees, she was in my arms. Bone showed through one of her broken legs and a bloody hole in her ribs frothed blood. Her bottom lip split so bad I could see her shattered teeth sticking through it. Blood from her ears, nose, eyes, whole body a contour map of bruises.

Ari's one good eye cracked and she gurgled wet and rough, "You look like shit, Case." She spit blood.

"Told you. No excuses bitch."

"Fuck. No exchs." Nitrile gloved hands pulled us apart, and meds were shoving tubes into her, slapping dermals on her. They had a stretcher. Someone shone a light in my eye, I felt the cold slap of a dermal on my shoulder blade. "No excuses," I slurred as loud as I could. He said, "You shouldn't be standing up." I didn't know if Ari could hear. "I'm gonna be waiting!" They hit me with another dermal and goodnight.

It was like that for awhile, before I could go back to my bunk. Lot of debrief, I got a commendation, which mostly meant some extra cash in my account if I lived to spend it. Some looks. DeeDee came by and said "Mad respect." Scatter stopped in with some nearly not paint thinner whiskey. Squad leader came in and chewed me out. Then some days in my smaller, worse bed. I lay on my clothes and punched back painkillers and beauties, then got out of my space and flipped the latch on Ari's room to get into hers.

It looked the same. Laundry unlaundered, whiffs of fermented sweat and sex, crumpled up wrappers for hot sauce, thermalprint hentai, congealed shampoo and soap blocks. I held a tanktop to my face and inhaled, poked around her trash listlessly til I saw a scrap of print. Her last psyche, pages of red and yellow, warnings cautions, parts of it printed red on black. I banged out of her room with it clenched in my hot fist, storming along the counter spin corridors to Ring 2.

Medical. Deep breath. I pushed the door in and gave Ari the biggest smile I could muster and she asked, "Oh no. What's wrong," from where she was still ensconced in tubes to keep her lungs working while the biogels slowly closed her skin over. "What do you mean, what's wrong," I forgot to separte teeth for talking. Maybe a couple weeks before she was walking wounded. "You got a smile like you dropped a battery pack on your foot."

She looked better with her lips stitched back together. Her new front teeth were steel. I blinked and shook and pursed my lips so I wouldn't snarl when I unfolded the psyche chart she'd left balled up under her desk. Needles prickled along my feverish forehead. Tried to find words as she shifted her eyes away from mine and just said, "Oh. That."

I dropped it on her stomach. "Why? You could've- It... Why?" I've been called poetic in my time.

Ari started to bite her lip then stopped. Rubbed her eyes with her palms. "Ow. Everything hurts - Casey, what are you gonna do when you get outta here?"

"Because you can- Huh?" I blinked several more times rapidly. "Uh, I dunno. Little place with some twenty-threes? Maybe a dog? Nothing too special, just wanted a shot at like... living yeah?"

"But you think about it and... y'know, you see something?"

"Yeah, I guess, I mean a little. Who knows?"

She shut her eyes. "Well I didn't see anything." Squeezed her eyes. "I didn't think I'd- Case, I didn't come here for a shot at living. I... didn't see that. That idea." Tears slipped out of her eyes and she grimaced, shoved her hands against them. "I never planned to live that long," her breath hitched.

I didn't know what to do with my hands, whether to move over to her, or what. I nodded to her closed eyes, felt stupid. "Ari, I'd, uh, like it if you did."

She let out a long breath and opened damp eyes. "That's what, I mean, I met you. It's been good, and like. I realized I had started thinking about it."

"Thinking about it?"

"About being alive. Somewhere there, I mean, like, I thought about that I might want a future if it had you in it. And I guess I freaked about the idea it might not happen, and I wanted to keep you somewhere safe where I wasn't going to mess that up."

I folded my arms. "Ari, I fucking swear." She looked back at me. "I don't care how much it hurts, move the fuck over right now, I'm gonna hug you so bad you break another four ribs."

She slid a bit, and I managed to half lay in the bed around the IV tubes. I managed not to break her ribs. Big, stupid and hot tears dripped down my cheeks and nose as I squeezed, then grabbed her hands in mine. "Every day you wake up. I'll give you that future. You might not see yourself and that's okay because you'll see me, and I hope that's enough."

"I kinda kinda love you bitch," I clutched her tight. She kissed me, stitches rough against my lips, and smiled as she did. "You can stay," she said.

"I'll stay." And I did.

[physalian]

Character Types: Schemers

Saltburn was one of those pure shock value movies, putting spectacle above rewatchability, imo, but that moth monologue was great, and it’s all about how the protagonist is a schemer. Reminds me of Squidward’s accusations to Plankton in The Spongebob Movie and I mean that with 100% sincerity.

Schemers probably need no explanation, but these are characters that sacrifice a couple battles to win the war, these are the quiet ones who come out of nowhere in the last lap. If they’re villains, they’ll probably botch it, if they’re anti-heroes, they’ll probably eek out a victory, but these types usually aren’t full-blown heroes as “scheming” is seen as unheroic, but more on that at the end.

So! I’ve collected a couple of my favorites, because this time I haven’t written one to gush about worth spoiling to hell and back (but I do have one, and he’s campy as hell).

The Villain Schemer

Starscream

Top of the list is, to no one’s surprise if you follow me, Starscream. Specifically the iteration in Transformers Prime as I know that one the best and that show has some of the best character work in the franchise.

Starscream is forever second-best to his Lord and Master, Megatron. He’s second-in-command to the entire Decepticon contingent, a former Energon Seeker (a title which only he cares about and thinks it’s cool as the group went defunct before Cybertron went dark), and is quite like a cockroach. Somehow, he just keeps narrowly escaping death.

Despite everything against him at one point, low on fuel, no friends, no allies, barely a shot in the giant fetch quest to the finish line, he catches a lucky break and manages to fool the Autobots, sneak right past their defenses to steal all the MacGuffins, and then leverages and silver-tongues his way back into the good graces of the Decepticons.

Schemers are usually not physically strong, as to have both a skilled fighter and tactician in one character is OP (and leaves the argument open of why you’d be a schemer by choice if you can Punch Things to solve your problems). He only uses his guns maybe five or six times in the whole show. This version of his design is very sleek and slender. He prefers to use his claws or his wrist-rockets (he transforms into a fighter jet). Back him into a corner and he’ll probably try to either fly away, grovel for mercy, play himself up as weak and defenseless and thus a pathetic and unjust kill, or be completely unaware of how screwed he is and get his ass beat.

He’s got variety.

Starscream’s big thing though is his ego, the fatal flaw of most schemers. He thinks he’s better than everyone else, even when he’s t-cog-less and unable to transform, crawling around in the dirt scrounging for energon once he’s gone rogue. Every chance he gets, he’s either fluffing up his scant accomplishments, trying to undermine Megatron, or trying to prove how loyal he is to Megatron, and the Big M allows this because… it’s entertaining, I think.

Yet, miraculously, this mech always survives. He outlives Megatron at least thrice in this show alone. He always either has a backup plan, has a secret weapon, or is able to just weasel out of capture or execution. He’s an idiot, but he can also be incredibly clever, using Autobot mercy against them a la “you wouldn’t shoot a defenseless prisoner” or “you wouldn’t leave a bot to die even though we all know I deserve it”.

And on top of all that, he’s just really funny. Whether it’s his exaggerated movements, like how his wings will flap when he’s excited, or the one time he dances pretty provocatively in front of his whole crew chanting “All Hail Starscream” after one of Megatron’s deaths. Or when he’s his own worst enemy, getting himself into sticky situations because he just can’t let anyone else have the last word.

Plankton

Another funny schemer is the aforementioned Plankton, in a show that’s a whole lot less dramatic. Whenever he’s in an episode he’s whipping up yet another convoluted plan to steal the Krabby Patty formula, but while he can be mean and a little cruel with his insults, nobody hates Plankton. He never wins, his failures are funny, and Krabs is kind of a dick. Sometimes, you’re even rooting for him.

Maven Calore

On the complete opposite end of the humor scale, there’s Maven, from the Red Queen series. Yet another wimp both physically and magically, Maven is the second-born to the throne, who, at first, actually seems like he’s not out to steal it from his older brother like Claudius in Hamlet.

But of course….

Maven, like another character on this list, is a master of social engineering. His most famous line in the series is, “The truth is what I make it. I could set this world on fire and call it rain.”

He fools everyone, even the heroine and his brother, more than once into thinking he’s redeemable and in the third book, he and the heroine spend quite some time together where she’s trying desperately to find any shred of a decent man inside him, while he proves again and again that that man died when he was a kid, abused out of him by the queen, and that he’s not even mad about it, it’s just who he is, and she should really stop trying so hard to fix something that can’t be glued back together.

Maven is one cruel fucker, too, either orchestrating or permitting the deaths of quite a few major characters along with everything he does to the protagonist. He’s a fascinating look into the “I can fix him” trope and what it does to the people who have been convinced that it’s their duty to continue suffering abuse for the sake of family or kinship.

I wish this series was more popular, I only know one other person who read it, and they recommended it to me.

Loki

Gonna stick him here because there's just so many versions of this mythological figure, dating back literal centuries. Marvel's Loki is... a hot mess of inconsistencies. So, in general, Loki is at best, occasionally helpful if it also serves his own interests, but he's usually depicted as an obstacle. Honorary mention because everybody knows who he is.

The Anti-Hero Schemer

Lelouch vi Britannia

I get to gush about Code Geass finally, yay. But first, an honorable mention to Light Yagami (a full villain schemer). Didn’t like Death Note and don’t remember it well enough to properly comment on all of Light’s schemes but he’s not even an anti-hero, he’s a straight-up villain protagonist. People just mistakenly thought that Light and Lelouch were in any way comparable… and they’re not.

Apologies, Death Note fans. I don’t like your man.

Lelouch vi Britannia is the protagonist of Code Geass, a mecha anime probably most famous to anyone who doesn’t know it for the Pizza Hut ad campaign and “why are you buying clothes in the soup store?!”

His whole story is revenge on and the toppling of the Britannian empire and its emperor, his supremely assholeish father, who got his mom (the queen-consort) killed and shipped him and his only full-blooded sister off as political prisoners to Japan.

Lelouch is… a beautiful, smart, dumbass. He’s hyperbolically unfit, winded even by climbing a short staircase (like I said, schemers are usually wimps), but a brilliant military strategist and tactician. But above all else, he’s a master at social engineering.

On top of Code Geass being a mecha anime, it’s also got a whole supernatural lore about “geass” an ‘absolute’ superpower held by a couple different characters of the show, and Lelouch’s is absolute obedience. Whenever he geasses somebody, if it is within their power or knowledge to accomplish or provide, they are compelled absolutely to follow his command. With the massive caveat being that he can only use it on a person once in their lifetime (until shenanigans ensue).

Lelouch’s whole story is about gaining social power over his opponent, starting from basically nothing as he’s moonlighting as a high school student of vaguely noble standing. If anyone figures out that he’s actually a prince, his whole plan goes belly up. Why? His plan is to ignite a rebellion in Japan against Britannia, by creating a masked vigilante, Zero, the Man of Miracles, a man of the people, definitely not a blue-blood prince of the enemy. So ensues two seasons of absolute insanity as Lelouch’s rebellion unfolds and collateral damage collapses around him.

Lelouch is his own worst enemy. His ego and arrogance constantly bite him in the ass and he loses constantly, which, to me, is what made him far more likable than somebody like Light, who always won. He’s not above sacrificing a few for the needs of the many, even when those few are people or relatives of people he cares deeply about. He’s not above using his power of non-consent to get what he needs on anyone, no matter how much he knows they’d hate him if they knew he used it on them. He’s not above lying, manipulating, or tossing people under the bus if it furthers his goals.

But he’s not a villain. While it can be argued, even by Lelouch himself, that Japan and all the members of the rebellion that he helped raise from nothing, were just pieces on his chessboard and meaningless to him, that all he cares about is revenge and not an actual free Japan… he’s lying. Otherwise the show would not have ended the way it did, and it remains recognized as one of the best endings to any anime ever.

Schemer Heroes?

Schemers usually aren’t heroes for one big reason: They’re selfish, and selfishness is unheroic. Even with the best of intentions, like the anti-hero or morally-grey hero, the schemer’s personal goals are always, first and foremost, top priority, and if the group benefits, it’s a happy coincidence.

I’m wracking my brain trying to think of one who would qualify and while there are plenty of schemer protagonists, they’re the antithesis of the hero we’re supposed to root for, and I think it says something about us as a society.

Tyrion Lannister

If he counts, the best one I can think of is Tyrion Lannister (did not read the books, only saw most of the show). He’s yet another wimp** who has to rely on his wits and his smarts to compete and stay ahead in the world once he figures out that his money and his name won’t save him forever. And in the Game of Thrones, you either win or you die.

He does do some shady things here or there, but aside from maybe Samwell, every character in that show has done some morally dubious things.

Honorable mention to Varys, who is absolutely a schemer, but I couldn’t figure out where to put him on this list. And Littlefinger, who’s a schemer villain, but he didn’t stick the landing (thanks D&D). GOT is made up of schemers, really. I just… don’t want to keep giving GRRM free advertising.

**wimp only in that he's not physically abled like the other characters and cannot rely on his skill with a sword, only his words.

—

All in all, schemers take a ton of planning to be written believably, because their wits are their strongest trait. To write a super intelligent character, you really have to have all your ducks in a row so you can show their thought processes and how their plans unfold, instead of only saying “they’re super smart, trust me”.

Even when schemers are cruel, what makes them distinct from annoying assholes is that there’s some part of their character that’s impossible to argue with. They’re right, even if you hate to admit it, about even one tiny thing in the world.

Why? Because they spit in the face of lawful good and evil. They know the good guys have lines they won’t cross, and it will get people killed. They know the bad guys (usually society at large) needs to be stopped, and they might be bad, but either society forced their hand, or they’re not as bad as the alternative.

My schemer in ENNS is just a straight-up asshole, but he knows how to manipulate the heroes to get what he wants and his plan works.

They do have to succeed, otherwise they’re just idiots. They need a few wins under their belts to prove their competence as a proper schemer and not just a guy blowing smoke. Wondering if this will be the time they flop on their face, or wondering what line they’ll cross to escape this time, is what makes them so entertaining.