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Debauchery At Its Finest

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Your laughter booms across the ocean, mingling with your partner’s into a beautiful symphony. His arm is slung casually around your shoulder as he leans slightly against you. The ship rocks gently beneath your feet, imperceptible to anyone with less seafaring experience than the pair of you. On the ground below are four faces with varying expressions. The Dolorosa, your shared diamond, fond (you like to imagine) exasperation. The Signless, amusement with just a tinge of wonderment. The Disciple and The Psiioniic, unadulterated loathing. You could see yourself and your partner easily falling pitch for either one, but there’s no way one of them could handle the pair of you. Ah, but perhaps both at once would be a worthy kismesistude. It’s a thought you tuck away for later.

 

You glance at your partner who in the same moment glances at you, violet locking with violet. Everything matches about you two. Rugged good looks, wind tousled and sea misted hair, horns like lightening bolts, striking silhouettes that inspire fear and rage in your enemies. Even the same name.

 

This gift is from The Demoness, a you from what she called a doomed timeline. She appeared in your cabin one night on the cusp of day. Unable to sleep you had been indulging your deepest desires and plucking on a guitar none of the crew knew you had—and if they did they kept it wisely to themselves. It was as you were idly humming a song you’d written as a wiggler, a silly little tune that had stuck with you through the many years, that she appeared. And not alone.

 

She had proclaimed his timeline devastated, and yours similarly doomed. You hadn’t quite understood then like you do now. Yours is a timeline where just the right amount of things diverged to make it useless to the clowns’ mirthful messiahs and so it was abandoned. The Demoness’ job was to get rid of what did not benefit her master—but she couldn’t care less. That night she’d simply explained that she was bored and wanted to see what would happen with two Cronus Amporas running around the same world. Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Curious woman, that Demoness.

 

She had not technically given you a choice. Or him, for that matter. Just left your doppelgänger in the middle of your cabin before vanishing silent as she’d come.

 

You used to be a good, Empress-fearing man who abided her word. Who hunted for lusii to feed her terrible, gluttonous beast.

 

You’ve since seen the error of your ways. Why serve a woman you loathe, take on a duty that disgusts you, quadrant with fools and shams when the greatest treasure of life was finally within your grasp?—yourself.

 

It had taken a shamefully short amount of time for you and your alternate self to pail. Who knew your charms were so powerful they even worked on yourself? The first time had made you feel like an inexperienced wiggler who’d never done so much as kissed before. He felt much the same, and together you’d spent a full sleepless day exploring a body that was and yet was not quite your own. Never before had you felt such passion. Parts of you that had never been sensitive suddenly were on fire at the lightest touch, innocuous brushes of his fingertips leaving you ablaze. He ignited something inside of you that had been dormant for sweeps, had possibly never before been aflame until he came into your life.

 

You’re not deaf to the accusations of narcissism. You simply don’t care. Why should you? He changed your life and you his, and no one needs to understand your bond but you two.

 

With his encouragement you retired from being an orphaner, in the most bombastic way you could think of. You’d heard of rebel stirrings, a troll who went around peddling peace and equality. Why not side with The Signless if your world was doomed anyway? Have as much fun as you could while getting back at Her Imperious Condesce and that goddamn clown. And you even managed to drag Mindfang into things.

 

Through an elaborate ruse, before she’d realized there were two of you now, you’d managed to pull her attention away from another imperial ship which your doppelgänger took control of instead. There were subjuggulators on board and the fight hadn’t been easy, but you were Cronus goddamned Ampora, Dualscar himself doubled, and in the end you were victorious. You sent the ship sailing right back to the empress, written on the sails in purple blood “I QUIT -CA.”

 

Absolutely glorious.

 

Just as glorious was when you and your partner revealed yourselves to Mindfang. She’d had quite the look on her face, sizing you two up with interest. You then told her your kismesistude was off before dipping your double for a heated kiss while she sputtered and raged in the background.

 

That had been a satisfying day. You are much happier now, running amuck with your partner across the oceans and wrecking the empress’ plans wherever you could. Aranea was a self absorbed menace, but she got one thing right—this pirate life has its appeal.

 

Currently the two of you have just made it back to where Kankri and his people are, tucked away from the empress while they come up with the next plan of action. You step down from your ship, doppelgänger giving you his hand like the proper gentletroll he is. You grace him with a smile that has Mituna making a sound of disgust. Neither of you pay him mind, linking arms as you go over to the group.

 

First you both, movements in perfect synchronicity, take either of Porrim’s hands and gently kiss her inner wrists. She lets out a girlish giggle; your heart flutters in the palest way. Never have you heard that sweet sound elicited by another and you take extra pride every time you manage it.

 

You both greet Kankri kindly, then give the other two a cursory nod of the head. It’s a slight action, curt but not necessarily impolite. Like they’re an afterthought and you have far better things to do with your time. They’re both incensed but stubbornly trying not to let on and give you the satisfaction. You catch your partner’s eye, same thought flashing behind them as yours—they might just be worth pursuing.

 

Later, after greetings have all been exchanged and both sides have been caught up with the other, you’re laying under a tree with your doppelgänger and shared diamond. Ever the picture of poise, Porrim’s legs are tucked underneath her and to the side as she leans against your partner’s shoulder. He’s sitting with back against the trunk, legs out and parted enough for you to nestle between them as you feed him grapes.

 

“You two are absolutely shameless.” There’s no judgement in her tone, just a light teasing. She’s not wrong.

 

You both turn to her with matching, roguish grins.

 

“I’d be hard pressed to believe anyone in our situation wouldn’t do the same,” your partner says, taking a grape and pressing it between your lips. You kiss his fingertips.

 

Porrim hums, neither a confirmation nor denial. You pluck a grape and bring it to her lips which she parts for you.

 

“You know, Cronus, when I told you self love was important I didn’t mean quite like this.”

 

Your double winks. She rolls her eyes, lightly smacking his arm.

 

“Absolutely incorrigible.” Then with sincerity she smiles at you two and says, “It is good to see you both this happy. You’ve come such a long way since I first met you.”

 

Without hesitation you both bare your necks and she places lingering kisses across the vulnerable flesh. There’s no other troll save each other you’d dare trust like this. Porrim is a shining light of trustworthiness amongst a sea of scoundrels and backstabbers.

 

The night is fading and Porrim joins you in your cabin, the day spent with the three of you together in your pile, pressed on either side of her. It’s a shame she only rarely ventures away from her wiggler, but you admire her loyalty and care to Kankri. It’s nice, though, to have your diamond with you again even for a short time.

 

You only spend a few days with them. Then the Summoner is there, bringing news of an empire ship with a pointed look in your direction. Ah, it’s another of the empress’ attempts to hunt you down. She and the clown had both been quite cross at your retirement, and have since been gunning for your heads on a silver platter delivered right back to them.

 

In tandem you and your doppelgänger shrug and assure your assorted audience that you’ll take care of things. Of course Rufioh insists on going along. The two of you don’t need his assistance but you can’t deny the fun of jumping into a dangerous situation with someone whom you work well with by your side. So you give your goodbyes, assuring your diamond you’ll both be fine. She teases lightly, saying she’s more worried you’ll come back with torn up clothes she’ll have to mend.

 

You promise to be as careful as you can. Your partner adds that you can’t make any promises, though. Porrim laughs and shoos you off.

 

It takes the rest of the night and a full day to spot the enemy ship. In that time your doppelgänger and you manage to fluster Nitram until he’s bronze in the face and sputtering. The way he watches you two move isn’t lost on either of you. Arousal mingled with revulsion. It’s a good look on him.

 

Flags of the empire loom over the ship. Oh how you platonically despise the Peixes symbol and what it stands for. Every victory against her, no matter how minor, is the most satisfying feeling. You won’t rest until you see it all burned to the ground, fuchsia engulfed in flames.

 

Rufioh flies up as you draw near. That stolen dragon lusus of his is undoubtedly nearby should its assistance be required, but for now he flutters over himself to start the attack. He rips a large gash through the sails before they have time to react. There are hollers of fury and indignation, and it ignites your pumpbiscuit.

 

The second he took off you and your partner jumped into the water, spanning the distance between the ships in no time. Your crew will follow shortly. You might even save some of the fight for them.

 

From what you can see there are mainly indigos and subjuggulators onboard. Oh you can’t wait for that clown to rage at the purple blood soon to be shed.

 

Weapons start clashing in no time. Your partner and you fight back to back, movements like a wild dance that you couldn’t learn from practice—you had to feel the rhythm inside of you. Rufioh joins the fray and you have to admire the way he wields that lance. Just as deadly are those horns he charges with like a mad creature.

 

The fight is a blur of flying blood and clangs of blade and club alike. Years of experience have granted you the ability to quickly tell friend from foe in a chaotic battle. You’re aware of your crew about you, of Rufioh, your partner. Then an indigo catches your eye.

 

You would know that headgear anywhere, those horns like arrows pointed upwards. Curious that they’d send out Horuss Zahhak, top executioner to the empress and rumored quadrantmate to the Grand Highblood himself.

 

Serket had a nomenclature for him, you recall. Darkleer. Almost as intimidating as Dualscar, you have to say.

 

You expect him to level a loaded bow in your direction but instead he gives a small wave. Brow quirking, you wave back.

 

Then your attention is back on the skirmish. A particularly large and angry subjuggulator is pressing your partner against your back while two indigos keep you busy on the defensive. Just as you think you may have to break formation to get one up in your opponents an arrow sings through the air and pierces one of the indigo’s neck, point going all the way through. You chance a look back over; Horuss nods once before taking aim at the second indigo.

 

You put all your focus on the purple blood, your partner and you twirling around the clown with ease. Soon enough he’s limp on the deck at your feet. The two of you fight your way over to Horuss who has continued to shoot down his shipmates.

 

“Changing sides, then?” your partner calls out to him as you get closer.

 

“It’s a very complicated matter,” he returns, ripping an arrow out of a body.

 

Have to admire a troll who cuts off a relationship as dramatically as you.

 

Thanks to his aid the ship is overtaken with no casualties on your end. A few injuries, including a severed leg and crushed hand, but all lives are intact. Rufioh flutters down to your side, eying Horuss critically.

 

“I find it hard to believe that you of all people are suddenly on our side.”

 

“And I find myself not caring about your opinion. Captain Ampora.” He nods once to you then at your doppelgänger.

 

“Zahhak,” you return.

 

Your partner asks, “What could possibly have you betraying the empire? Tired of being pailed by a clown?”

 

It’s slight, nearly imperceptible, but you notice the way his jaw tightens.

 

“My past personal relationships are of no business to any of you. Now, if you’re quite done wasting time, I wish to be of assistance to your cause. I have plenty of information that will be an insurmountable boon.”

 

Clamping a hand each on his shoulders, you and your doppelgänger welcome Horuss onto your ship. It’ll be interesting to see him and Rufioh grate on each other.

 

As the blinding sun rises you settle into your cabin. Adrenalin still courses through your veins, however, warding off sleep. You roll on top of your partner, his hands instantly going to your hips as you claim his lips. At first you kiss and touch each other languidly, but before long his fingers are bruising and you’re biting his lips.

 

You move down, nipping at his neck. Finding a spot you know is wonderfully sensitive, you bite down and get a delicious gasp out of him. You let up after a moment, lapping at the area gently. In contrast he runs claws across your back. You shudder, hips grinding against his.

 

Frantically you divest each other of clothing, tossing it carelessly around the cabin. An idle thought hits you as you rip his shirt—your diamond will have some mending to do, after all.

 

As soon as you’re bare his mouth is on your body. Your fingers wrap around a horn as the other threads through hair. He doesn’t stay in one place for long as though he’s trying to map out a familiar trail.

 

Without warning he flips you onto your back. You’ve no complaints as his mouth explores lower. Your bulge hasn’t uncurled yet but you feel it pressing against its sheath eagerly. He runs his tongue down to the top of your nook and a gasp escapes you. You can feel his breathy chuckle against your skin. Cocky, talented bastard.

 

He goes around your nook, purposefully avoiding it. Instead he pushed your legs further apart and settles between them, mouth lavishing your inner thighs. He pays attention to either, taking his time to tease.

 

All the while you rub the base of his horns, alternating between gentle strokes to squeezing until he groans. Eventually he turns and captures two on your fingers in his mouth, sucking on them as he looks you straight in the eye and you can’t look away, transfixed. You don’t even realize his own hand has moved until there’s a finger lightly pressing between the lips of your nook. Your legs open wider in invitation.

 

He gets his finger in fully before a second slides in beside it. They curl right into a sensitive spot that makes your hips buck. Even with his mouth full he’s smirking. It only ignites your arousal further.

 

With a pop he releases your fingers and kisses from stomach to groin, still staring up at you from the top of his lashes. The intensity of his gaze takes your breath away. He’s a decadent sight.

 

His fingers haven’t stopped moving inside of you. They pump your nook, working you up but shying away from bringing you to climax. Your bulge has finally poked out and his mouth finds it. His tongue teases the tip, riling it up and drawing it fully into the open. It goes for his lips, rubbing them pleadingly. Your partner opens his mouth and lets it push in.

 

Your heads falls back as you enjoy the sensations. His tongue rubs up and down your bulge while it eagerly sees how far it’s allowed to go. There’s no resistance as it presses into your partner’s throat. You grip the bed, forcing your hips still. He makes it quite hard.

 

A third finger makes its way into your nook. It’s like magic, the way they move inside of you. Your eyes fall shut against the wonderful onslaught. Pleasure is quickly washing over you, a pressure building in your nook as your bulge quivers. There’s a trill filling the cabin and it takes a moment for you to realize it’s coming from you.

 

Then all at once your partner pulls back. The absolute /bastard/. You go to give him a glare that is much more pleading than you’d like to admit. He only grins before his face disappears between your thighs.

 

You give a jolt as a tongue presses into your nook. Hands clamp down on your hips, keeping you in place. He laps unhurriedly as though he plans on keeping you there until the moons are back in the sky.

 

Once again you thread fingers in his hair. Your other hand returns to one of his horns, thumb rubbing at the base. Not with enough force he couldn’t shake you off, just with enough to let him feel your presence. 

 

Jealously your bulge wiggles towards his mouth but your partner shoos it away. You will patience into the stubborn thing and it reluctantly retreats, twisting itself up in a fruitless endeavor for release. Your partner has reduced your bulge to a pouting wiggler; you admire his talent.

 

Finally, after what feels like sweeps of radiant torture, he finds that spot you know he’s been purposefully avoiding. Once he’s at it he’s merciless, tongue teasing and pressing into it without reprieve. The only thing keeping you from thrusting into his mouth wildly are those hands holding you down. You’re gripping his horns now for dear life.

 

Your nook convulses in a wave of pure pleasure as your climax hits. He doesn’t let up, tongue still pushing forward until you’re overstimulated. He only gives you a moment to recover when you chitter helplessly. Your partner props himself up on an elbow, grinning deviously.

 

“You spoil me,” you pant, tugging him up.

 

“You deserve it.”

 

He claims your open mouth with gusto, kissing hard and snaking his tongue inside. You enjoy the taste of yourself. For a moment you grant him this dominance. A reward for a job well done.

 

Of course your unsatisfied bulge still craves its own release. It finds its doppelgänger and they twist around each other with an eager hunger. You take your partner’s thigh and move it so he’s straddling you, bulges trapped between you.

 

You roll your hips as his mouth moves down to the crook of your neck. He yanks your head by the horn for better access. He bites down and you gasp, claws digging into his back. Your bulges start thrashing in earnest.

 

In tandem you both climax, slurry coating your stomachs. As you go limp against the bed he catches himself from collapsing on you fully, forehead pressed against where he’d bitten and surely left a mark. The two of you slowly let your senses return as your bulges ease back into their sheaths.

 

One day you’ll remember to grab the pail. You can’t deny the thrill of forgoing one, though. Debauchery at its finest, you and your partner covered in yourselves and each other.

 

Idly you stroke his hair. His breath is warm against your skin. He feels like no other troll you’ve shared this sort of company with. He fits perfectly against you all over.

 

Your partner turns, kisses lightly up your neck to jaw to cheek to mouth. He claims the latter with what feels like the last of his energy. You kiss back. When he goes to pull back you nip at his bottom lip. He grins, passion in his beautiful violet eyes. You match his gaze full force.