(A small one shot Luftrausers fic inspired by Rebornica's depiction of the Luftrauser pilot, your work is hella!)
It was a slick machine, a military issued piece of erotica. Rauser knew this the moment he had set his eyes upon his vixen of a plane. When he trailed his finger down the wing of the plane, he smirked to himself. “This baby is gonna luft so many rausers.” He predicted, and he was not wrong.
He pulled himself up onto the wing of the plane, and he gently lay himself down, putting his cap over his face. He flipped himself onto his stomach, and he raised his legs in the air, idly kicking them like a schoolgirl. He smushed his cheeks with his hands and he glared down at his plane. “You’re a cutie, you know that?” He said, before stroking the plane affectionately. “You’re gonna down a lot of enemy planes, are you not?” Then he gave a loud, nasally laugh. “Yes you are! Yes you arrrrre!”
He instantly shot himself closer, until his warm nose was pressed against cold steel. “You’re a sexy beast.” He whispered, before he whimpered. “You’re gonna leave those shitlord other pilots in the dust, am I right?” He added in a hushed breath. “Leave them all burning in a big wreck behind us.”
“Herr RauuuUUUUUUser?” A shrill voice pierced the pilot’s eardrums, and he panicked. He scrambled off of the plane, landing on the floor quite painfully. He was approached just as he retrieved his cap, and held it over his chest. His grip was so intense it was scrunching his headwear into a little ball.
“Herr Rauser!” The voice called out again. A terrifying military adjutant came over, clutching a clipboard to her torso. “Are you prepared to fly today?” She asked, unable to comprehend the concept of an ‘inside voice’
“Er, ya!” Rauser nodded enthusiastically. “I was just prepping my aircraft!” He added, quickly slapping his cap back on his head, covering up the remnants of his shaved hair.” He punctuated his words with an enthusiastic salute.
“You need to work harder, Herr Rauser. Your quota of confirmed kills isn’t being reached, and you’re going to be court marshalled if you do not pick up das slack for the war effort.”
Rauser nodded slowly, slipping his hands in his pockets. “Well…” He offered. “I’’ve not had a chance to use my new, alluring aircraft in a dogfight yet, I want to give it a spin.” He said. “I’ve had nothing to work with in my entire career save a standard issue Dograuser. It has the little dinky machine guns, it isn’t waterproof, and it hates high altitudes.”
“Why are you complaining?” The stone faced woman replied, her single eye a massive all seeing orb. Rauser recoiled slightly, but he kept a grin as he did so. “The standard issue dograuser is a staple of our mighty airforce. Our fighters work hard to achieve ace status.” She said, scribbling on her clipboard for a moment, before resuming. “You, however, I have no idea why you’re an ace fighter.”
Fishing into his uniform, Rauser pulled out a hip flask, he took a long, long drink. “I don’t know about you, but I killed six blimps yesterdaAAAy.” He said, with a belch. “F-Frau Adjutant.” He said, taking another sip. “I’m an ace for the same reason as the other ace dogfighters.” He thumped his chest. “I’m really really good at doing my job, which is killing people.” He proudly proclaimed.
The adjutant shook her head, before walking away, her high heels loudly clapping against the hard floor as she did so. “I have to go to a tea break.” She said, and then began to mumble. “How good men died and men like you survived I will never know, Rauser.”
“Because I’m the ultimate badass!” He shouted back. “And I heard that!”
The adjutant shook her head and walked away, she exchanged a nod with the tiny man who scuttled in after her. “Herr Rauser?”
“Mhm?” Rauser said, rolling his eyes at the constant interruptions to his precious alone time with his dogfighter. The man who came in looked up at Rauser, and clasped his hands together. “You sent for me, you asked for upgrades on your aircraft?”
“Mhm.” Rauser nodded, putting away his hip flask. “Do whatever you scientists do.” He said dismissively.
“I am an engineer.” The man pointed out. Rauser stared at him.
“But you have a white coat, all scientists have white coats, you nerd!”
“I-I’m an engineer…” He repeated. “I work on aircraft, on machines, not mathematics or biology. I don’t even know why you called me.” He sighed, frustrated but not angry. “I already added more weapons to your plane.”
“Ye-Wait you did?”
“You asked me for more firepower.” The Engineer said. “You told me, “I want like, four more machine guns on this ‘seductive fucking lady’ so I put four more machine guns on.”
“So….” Rauser tilted his head. “My plane has how much more killing power?”
“Like I said, four more machine guns, ammo for the machine guns, your plane is heavier but-“ Rauser jolted upright and grabbed the engineer by his collar. The pilot looked the man in the eyes, and the engineer whimpered.
“You’re telling me…” Rauser said, slowly and deliberately. “That my plane has four times the bullet shooting, ass-kicking, hallucination inducing mURDER power?”
“Yes!” The engineer yelped, and Rauser let him go. The engineer picked himself up, Rausers fingerprints staining his formerly perfect coat with a mixture of what was primarily engine grease but also various other natural and non-natural fluids.
“Let’s go let’s go let’s gO!” Rauser climbed into his cockpit and began to scream out to the flight control. “Resurface immediately!”
“Herr Pilot, the airspace about our craft is swar-“
“Do it bitCH.” Rauser growled at them, and they went quiet. The next moment, the submerged craft began to shudder and shake, metal growling as it raised itself out of the camouflage of the sea. Rauser began to cackle like a schoolboy as he pulled the cockpit closed and got comfy in his chair.
“I’m going to kill so many pilots!” Rauser said, shaking visibly in excitement. “Are you hype?” He asked the Engineer. He was staring like a demon at him and he spoke so loudly it fogged up a little patch in his cockpit window.
“Er, ja!” The Engineer said, and he began to jog away, the runway no longer clear as it began to open, sunlight flooding the submarines top. When Rauser took flight, he sunk into the black leather of his cockpit, and he adjusted his cap. The deck crew could hear his roaring laughter through his communicator. They questioned his past.
The little blips in the distance began to take shape as Rauser got ever closer, and once they got within ideal range, he let fire with his fuckboat of a dogfighter. He spun around, doing flips and stalling his engine, showboating for the enemy and ally alike. Every time a plane fell he would burst out laughing, the look of a madman given free reign at his passion. “Get out of my skY!” He would yell. “Get Out of my sky! I will eaT YOU.”
A plane tilted closer to Rauser, it was a humble fighter, one that might someday aspire to become an ace, just like so many others. “Hello, child!” Rauser screeched, before he rammed his plane straight into the cockpit. He didn’t seem concerned at the wing of his plane which had been sparking for the past minute, but eventually he worked up the motivation to fix it. Accelerating his craft, he opened up the cockpit, and began to crawl over, hugging the wing of the plane as he began to make repairs. He wondered what the enemy pilots reckoned, watching a man one thousand feet in the air hug the side of a plane accelerating rapidly across the ocean. Eventually, he was finished, and he clambered back inside, cold and wet from the clouds, but very much entertained.
As he continued to weave and dodge bullets and missiles all around him, he glanced over and he noticed an ace, the young man was rasping a him and mouthing all kinds of expletives at him.
“Enough of that foul language!” Rauser said, he zoomed closer, and he pulled a handgun out of a compartment in his plane. He angled the gun while steering, and he put a bullet straight in the yoke of the ace’s plane. As the plane began crashing into his opponents and plummeting into the sea, the Rauser chuckled. “See you in hell, fuckboy.”
Just as he began to wear out of his proud sensation, he saw a massive shadow over the battlefield. A massive airship was looming over the combatants. “Fucking sky whale.” Rauser grumbled, then he wrapped both hands on his yoke, and lurched his plane in to engage.
“I’m gonna luft your rausers so damn hard.” He declared. “That you won’t be able to eat solid food, so they’ll have to grind up your balls to make testicle bread.”
