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RED SEA FUKAMI RP BLOG. MUSE IS FROM WATGBS. 🔪 written by vivi 🔪i'm the new cancer never looked better & you can't stand it

[traitore-blog]

deepseascreams‌:

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"...I will.  Someday," Fukami promised, without hesitation.  "I will find a way to put us out of our misery."

"Restrain yourself," he ordered.  "We've only just begun."

As Sal beckoned for his touch in between sharp inhalations, Fukami chuckled behind a gloved hand.  He couldn't help himself.  Watching the shark tremble and thrust into his touch was mesmerizing.  In all honesty, he could watch his ambassador writhe on the floor forever.  It was satisfying to watch someone so usually smug and arrogant come undone beneath him.  

Despite the big talk, Sal was all the more willing and desperate to let a few of his walls down for the sake of being fucked.  Not only that, but Fukami was the only one allowed to thoroughly indulge in Sal's desperation.  Anyone else that dared to try would meet a swift death.  Their interests aligned and completed one another.  Fukami wanted to drag him down; make Sal drown and sink deeper into their selfish bond.    No one else would ever be able to take Sal as well as he could.  After this, he intended to ensure that no one else would ever get the opportunity.

Sal longed to be ruined and Fukami only wished to destroy.  He already looked like such a mess spread out across his carpet; Fukami had not even fucked him yet.  How pitiful.  There was still so much for him to do before he allowed Sal to cum.  Though, Fukami highly doubted the shark would be able to hold off from climaxing until the very end.

One of the tentacles that ripped and tore into Sal's clothes earlier shifted its attention to his neck.  It trailed up his chest, before coiling around him completely.  Regardless of the strength in Sal's grip on the carpet beneath him, Fukami roughly tugged him by the throat, forcing the shark to sit up from where he was.  As Fukami went about this, the octopus did not stop his slow ministrations down below, and neither did he loosen his grip on the shark's throat when Sal finally arose.  Instead, the tentacle hugging the shark's neck tightened its squeezing ever-so-slightly; ensuring that the ambassador could not get away.

The other tentacle trailed across Sal's hips, curiously exploring his bare skin.  It wasn't long before it was snaking itself around Sal's back.  It gradually slithered down his spine, then halted upon reaching the crack of Sal's ass.  Despite Sal's pleading, Fukami resisted the urge to enter him.  He only rubbed and pressed the tentacle against him, teasing Sal further and coaxing the shark to push back against him.

Fukami silenced Sal from saying anything more.  Hands rose up from his lap to tuck strands of light blue hair behind his ears.  He leaned down from his desk chair to cup Sal's cheeks with both hands, then kissed him.  In comparison to all of the other overwhelming touches Sal's body was being exposed to, Fukami brushing his lips against Sal's was gentle.  The kiss was slow and brief, while the use of Fukami's tentacles scattered across Sal's shaking frame rapidly continued to only gain in speed and roughness.  Having his way with Sal was so easy.

After moving his head away, Fukami drifted one of his hands from Sal's face to stroke the tips of his cocks.  His touch was soft, delicate, and clearly teasing.  For the most part, his hand merely hovered over him.  There wasn't any rhythm or pattern to this.  He wanted to make Sal ache for more, without the slightest hint of an idea as to when Fukami would show him just a bit of mercy.  Besides, the tentacle wrapped around Sal's dicks was squeezing and moving up and down his shafts as quickly as possible.  He should be grateful.

[traitore-blog]

deepseascreams·:

( ━ ❝ “we?”  you make it sound like i had any in the first place . oh ,  fukami ,  i thought you knew me better . ❞  there was a reason why he was in the sea of death in the first place .  it was bold of fukami to think that he had any true friendships at all .  they were merely entertainment to pass the time . 

     ❝ cute .  you’re still stuck on being a traitor .  you must have a lot of guilt in that tiny little brain of yours ,  huh ? ♪  it’s okay .  it’ll go away with time . ❞ 

     ❝ soon you’ll understand that it’s not worth feeling guilty over . ❞ sal shrugged his shoulders and left his arms in an ‘oh ,  i don’t know ,’  position . ❝ but putting that aside … ❞ 

     ❝ … … .  are you saying we’re not friends ?  you said it yourself .  “traitors” like us are all that’s left .  we’re friends .  best friends , actually . lovers ,  even . ❞ )

“...They viewed things differently.”  

He recalls the horrified expression on Wadanohara’s face upon regaining her memories of Sal’s betrayal.  His feelings were so mixed at that time because... 

Fukami never told her.  But he knew.  In a way, he had always known.  Fukami knew long before things came to a head.  Around him, Sal had always shown his true colors.  The singularity between them in the confines of experiencing such deep jealousy and hatred allowed for such things.

The mystery surrounding the ambassador of the sea had never been hard to figure out.  For the sake of his own hatred and bitterness, Fukami completely went along with framing and bullying Samekichi.  If it meant he would stay away from Wadanohara, Fukami was glad to cover things up and pretend he didn’t have a clue of what was going on  A true friend and ally would never do something as sinister as that.  His lack of action was deplorable.  It was what made accepting his role as the second traitor so easy.

He couldn’t be bothered to stick to his honor when Samekichi was always destined to take what he wanted.  He couldn’t be bothered when he was destined to be alone otherwise.

Fukami clutches his chest.  “I don’t want to feel this...  After all, I always knew I would turn out this way.” 

He shakes his head.  “But I still see them.  They’re all gone, but I...  I can still see her.”

Closing his eyes, he tries to calm himself down.  It’s difficult to do so when thinking about the screams of his former allies.  A sadistic excitement running through him sends shivers down to octopus’s body.  “I understand it perfectly...  I was made for this.  In this new life, I am the happiest I have ever been.”

I fought to be someone I wasn’t for so long.  I did it for her, and then I...”

“...............?”

“................”

Admittedly, Sal’s confession has visibly shaken him.  It is unexpected but not unwanted.  In fact, he wants this very much, to be honest.

And yet, he hesitates.  He always does.  It’s stupid.  Sal is so much stronger than him.  It’s unbelievable.  He can make decisions like this without the slightest hint of fear.

But this is dangerous territory for both of them. 

To Fukami, it feels a tad delusional to believe they could possibly love anyone when they’re so quick to turn on those around them.  It’s difficult to imagine it.  And yet, it is something he wants desperately.  In truth, Fukami cut Wadanohara down to escape the one-sided feelings he felt for her.  He severed the bonds between himself and the other familiars by murdering Memoca and Dolphi.  It was all to start anew.  To start over in a life that makes sense for a kraken. 

But is love possible for someone as heartless as him?  Only a horrible person could accomplish something so disgusting and enjoy it as much as he did back then.  He has been so selfish.  And his selfish “love” for Sal may only lead to another bad ending.  If anything, it could be all the more dangerous if Sal truly does reciprocate his feelings.  They’re both traitors and consistently walking on a wire with their lies and deceit.  How can people like them be cut out for feelings like that?

He knows exactly what will happen if Sal’s attention strays.  The image of Wadanohara’s gasping, shuddering, and screaming form wrapped in bloody tentacles flashes in Fukami’s mind.

“Sal.  You cannot say that lightly...  I will not allow a change of heart from you.  If you confess like this, then leave later...  I will tear you apart.  I will hunt you down, Sal.  I...”

“No one else will do.  You are the only one that understands me.  No one knows the monster inside of me...  But you do.”  You’re all I have left, he doesn’t say.  Don’t leave me behind like she did.  Don’t choose another.

“...I will not settle for less.  If I am to love you with everything I am, it must be the same.  I cannot control myself.”

[traitore-blog]

deepseascreams·:

( ━ ❝ aw … you’re no fun at all . i just wanted to tease you a little ,  but you’re seriously taking this way too far .  i- ❞ 

     ❝ ah . ❞ 

    ❝ …  friendless ,  hm ? ❞ 

“...”

“.....................”

“...Sal.  I slaughtered any friends we had.”

“How do traitors like us have any right to something like that?”

“...It’s only us now.  I don’t believe we do.”

[traitore-blog]

deepseascreams·:

( ━ ❝ “fukami .  don’t talk to me .” heheheh .  my name’s fukami and i’m soooo edgy .  no one can even talk to me or else i’ll kill them .  oooooh ,  so scary .  i’m sooo scary .  ❞ 

    ❝ eheh ♪ . ❞ )

“...”

“I have nothing to say to that...  If you are trying to antagonize me right now, you’re doing a pitiful job.  It is a fact that I will kill them.”

“...Besides, you have no right to criticize.  Friendless idiot shark.”

[traitore-blog]

deepseascreams·:

@traitore

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“Filthy...  Crawling back to me like this.  Those faceless strangers can’t satisfy you like I can.”

His tentacles begin to unfurl.  “I should let you die here.  It would save me the trouble.”

Within seconds, two tentacles are ripping and tearing at Sal’s pants.  Scraps of white fabric flutter to the floor.  The rest of Fukami’s body does not move.  He remains perfectly still on the couch, while his tentacles aggressively search and grope Sal’s body.  Soon enough, they find what they’re looking for.  Each one coils around him, testing to see what kind of reaction he would make after waiting for so long to be touched. 

One of his other tentacles joins the fray by hooking itself around Sal’s left ankle.  In one swift movement, the tentacle sweeps Sal right off his feet.  It effortlessly drags the shark towards Fukami feet.  Fukami vaguely wonders if Sal hit his head in the process of being dragged across his room’s carpet, but he doesn’t voice the thought.

Fukami rests his chin on his right hand.  His other hand curls a strand of light blue hair between his fingers.  Red eyes study the tentacles beginning rub and stroke Sal’s dicks.  It’s clear that the octopus’s movements are intentionally slow, lazy, and sloppy.

“...Beg.  More.  I refuse to help you if that is all you can give me.”

[melonenbrot]

[traitore-blog]

I have not been on this blog in a while.  I apologize for the unexpected hiatus before.  I will reply to a few threads I have on here soon.  Feel free to like this post if you would like me to pick up from where we left off if we already have a thread together that I haven’t replied to.

[2er412412rwt34-deactivated20180]

Visit Original Link

i’ve got you and you’ve got me i take you up, you take me in let’s take forever and a little bit

[traitore-blog]

@ the anon who sent that very interesting question about Fukami’s motivations, please give me some time to completely write up your answer because it’s going to be a long one with a bit of analysis.  I apologize in advance if it takes me a little while!

[misanthropic-angel]

[traitore-blog]

rollingsnowsmasher:

   “Another…?”

   HE HAD NO PLACE IN THEIR WAR, nor in this world, for that matter. One who no longer had a place by anyone’s side, or anywhere, for that matter. TRASH that still BREATHED, for some reason. That would still walk and FIGHT, so it would seem. Desiring answers to his own predicament, pondering ever so often as to why it was that his breath had not yet been stolen. As he remained submerged within these very waters… dragged down to these very depths.

   A dream, a nightmare, or perhaps, PURGATORY, itself.              For that was what that should have awaited him from the very beginning.

   Hollowed gaze but still accepting its surroundings that only NIGHTMARES would have been made of. Such curious beings were these, ones that he would have never even dreamed of encountering. Ones only portrayed across that of valued parchment…. DEMONS, in the very eyes of this human. SHADOWED FIGURES BUT SLAIN– but for how long? As his attention would be lead down this bloodied path and towards that of a most daunting being. He was nothing like them. Nothing like those things that he had just taken down.

   “… and, what other options do I even have?”

He did not expect the foe to ask such a question.  For a moment, Fukami wondered if he was mistaken.  A flicker of surprise in his dark red eyes.  But then again, he reminded himself how imperative it was to remain guarded regardless.  After all, it was possible the stranger was merely stalling for time, eyeing the octopus's body for potential weak points.  It would not have been the first time.  The many mercenaries he encountered tended to have similar tactics when attempting to catch their targets off guard.  They learned from one another like a hivemind, it seemed. Within the midst of judgmental eyes, feigned indifference was key.  Fukami's arms folded across his chest.  "Leaving.  That is one," he answered, voice calm and free of any implicit bias in his tone. "Serving the Sea of Death is another," he added.

His eyes narrowed.  ".........But that is only if you're capable."

[traitore-blog]

deepseascreams:

( ━ ❝ what? what? an invitation?~♪ it would be really embarrassing for me to get killed by you. honestly, i would rather not! ❞ laughing as the other began to touch his head, he glanced downwards at his tentacles and twitched his mouth into a smile. 

❝ wow… fukami is finally trying to kill me, huh? ❞ his tone was STILL arrogant and happy-go-lucky despite the situation. any normal fish would have been begging for their life right about now. his body was getting squeezed tighter and tighter- his skin ached from the touch and he could feel the blood pumping through his veins- all of the tightness was surly going to ki-

kickstart his sex drive. 

❝ my, my~♪ ❞ his cheeks were stained red as he watched fukami rub against his blood forever dripping from his eyes. ❝ you’re too kinky, fuckami. what would you get out of killing me? would it give you a sense of sexual pleasure? would you brag? i’m not even fighting back. the only thing you can do is squeeze me tighter until i give you a surprise~ you can’t kill me anyway. you don’t have the GUTS. ❞ ) 

"This is hopeless.....  If you truly chose to speak your mind, you would be speechless.  Don’t tell me you never thought of such an outcome...?  Idiot shark."

"You are the embarrassment here.  No one would get turned on by this.....  And yet, here you are."

Two other tentacles unfurled themselves from beneath the octopi's coat as he glowered down at him.  One secured itself around the shark's tail while the other shoved and prodded at Sal's mouth, aiming to silence him by stuffing the appendage directly inside his throat.

"Don't bother to act tough.....  No one but me can hear you anyway."  He rested his chin on Sal's head, sighing a little.

As the feeler around Sal's tail bound tightly enough to what Fukami deemed necessary for inflicting only frivolous pain (an aim to tease the writhing egomaniac), Fukami effortlessly pulled the tentacle backward and stretched him. He could easily tear the shark completely into two halves, but where would the long-term sadistic fun be in that? An almost comical loud CRACK could have been heard from Sal's back, though, Fukami was only half paying attention to the sound he emitted. The pulling and yanking of Sal's body was slow, controlled, torturous, and deliberate.  

His narrowed eyes were particularly laid on the ambassador's face, curious of what expression his ally would make from such a grievous experience.

"Hahaha!  Ha...  It's not a matter of guts, Sal.  If you were gone, I would have no one else to dispose of my waste."

[traitore-blog]

deepseascreams:

( ━ ❝ haha!~ ♪ that’s just like you, fukami. always so violent and hard to talk to. well, i would easily say that it’s easy to pass with these fake acts, but where’s the fun in that? the reactions are better than letting them see head on. ❞ 

❝ really? you’re still talking about your one kill? that’s nice, but there’s plenty more fish in the sea. once your numbers get higher, then maybe i’ll be impressed! ❞ ) 

"Haha.....  Is that an invitation?"

"I could make you a fresh stain on my overcoat if it's what you want......"

Fingers weaved together and rested on the salmon shark's head, barely scratching pale flesh.  A single tentacle curled around his frame as he leaned forward, drawing Sal closer to his figure.  The embrace was surprisingly calm what with his violent words in mind...  Nonetheless, Fukami's grip was tight and constricting.

"More than less, I want to keep you stirring...  You will have to wait.  It would be a shame to cut this short when we've hardly begun."

He closed his eyes and sat down with him, all the while forcefully rubbing the red ichor draining from Sal's.

"The body count isn't important to me.  It's the meaning behind the act."

[traitore-blog]

outerists:

“Huh.”

He had his arms crossed against his chest while his back leaned against the tree. Something about the scenery here had been very pretty. He honestly was going to have a longer look before returning to where he came from but being approached by this weird octopus guy he decided to stay behind and make life a little more difficult.

“That explains the color of the water.” He mumbled to himself, glancing at the ocean for a moment before returning to paying attention Futami. The name of this place was also a little… to be expected but he wasn’t going to comment that. He didn’t know how the other would react but Kuroha did have his gun on him if he came to it. 

“Thanks for the suggestion but how about you take it and bring it elsewhere? I think I’m quite comfortable with where I’m at so I don’t plan to leave.”

"......Adamant words for only a place to stand," Fukami muttered.

A confident and arrogant response was unexpectedly rewarded with patience.  Any other tone or attitude would have set him off.  Signs of weakness or meekness made Fukami wrinkle his nose in disdain.  However, due to the other person's ego and his level of dignity, the monster decided to resist immediate violence.  He wanted to know more.  Any valuable traits or skills could make for a potential convertee.

The octopi's expression became a tad more thoughtful as he looked him over, attempting to uncover truths from a mere passing glance.  "Is there a reason why you're here?"  He asked, following the subtle movement.

[aryll]

more random wada shitdoodles from twitter, featuring my love post canon red sea fukami, some sals and samemis and some more red sea AU shenanigans

[melonenbrot]

Fukami did nothing wrong.

[traitore-blog]

@shark-kichi

Rosy tentacles drifted across rusty metal bars, shaking ever so slightly beneath the rough touch of their current jailkeeper.  Blood red eyes shined in the light of the sea, filtering in through the cracks of the dungeon walls. 

His aim was focused.  No words from mourning prisoners, soon to be convertees, stalled the octopus from his venture.  Endless Hatred, binding him to the man he was destined to visit that night, guided his passage.  His jealousy called him to act and torture, despite the object of their mutual desires being long since buried by Fukami's bloodied hands.

There was no spoken greeting upon the beast coming to face the shark's cage.  Instead, a violent blow from his hammer slammed against the cell's bars, intending to wake the man if unconscious.