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anonymous-existences · 1 month ago

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Chapter 15 : Red Painted Metal Walls

JL is planning how to Save Danny whilst also Dismantling The GIW and everything else as fast and logical as they could. Danny on the other hand is not doing Okay. [Danny-Dante-Centric Chapter] TW: Depictions of Vivisection, Child Abuse, Child Murder(does it count if he revived again and again??), Torture, Gore/Organs

Enjoy Pookies, also a cheeky side story 🤭

[𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚢'𝚜 𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐]

[𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 14, 11:45 𝙿𝙼]

"October 14 2XXX, 11:45 PM, Agent K Recording, We have successfully subdued By that of Agent A and Agent B respectively by Park Row, Gotham. Today we are here with The ecto-biologist Experts that of Doctors Maddie and Jack Fenton and the Specimen of Today's study. P H 4 N 7 0 M - 0 0 0 A , the most powerful of all Ecto-Sc— ehem... Ecto Species also commonly known and named as Phantom thus we will be referring to it as such for easier use. Agent K out." he reports to the Recorder and Hands it to Maddie for Later use.

Jack sets up a camera to record the experiments though film, "October 14 2XXX, 11:47 PM. I Am Ecto biologist Maddie Fenton here to educate you about Ecto - Specimen PH4N70M - 000A also known as Phantom. Here We present Phantom. He takes the form of a Little Boy around the age of 12-13 but do not mistake such creatures as a child. It's possible that they're older than any of us despite their appearances." She says preparing the Medical Surgical Tools in the side.

Phantom's face had a cover on it, a black tinted glass mask that's lodged deep into his skin. A collar that looked too tight in his neck. Danny was confused. Where am I? He thinks to himself and notices he couldn't move. His body felt too heavy and weak to move an inch of his body making it hard to know where he is. All he could see was the metal ceiling... Metal?—

Danny screams as Maddie opens his chest with a scalpel in a Y incision, it hurt so much. He begged them to stop but they continued. His Screams being blocked out by the mask on his face.

Please Stop, Please. Please

Please Please please Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please Please PLEASE PLEASE STOP IT! IM BEGGING YOU. IT HURTS. քʟɛǟֆɛ քʟɛǟֆɛ ₱ⱠɆ₳₴Ɇ ₴₮Ø₱!!

'H̴̢̫̟̜̼͊͋̽̇̅͌̈̀͘̕̕͠G̷̨̛̓͒̽̐͐̈́̓̔́̄̉̀̄͌͌̚G̷̡̨̨͍̣͚̯̮͚͎̯͔̟̙̑͝K̸̜̙͌͌̓͐̆̈́͋̅̏͋̈̊̋͑̃̕͜͝Á̵̢̛̰̻̥̎͝Ä̶͔͖̩́̊̈̄̄A̸̢̢̰̻̲̬̲͕͚̲̯̤͚̗̩̋Ā̵̛̟̻͉͈̟͇͈̫̰̫̟̞̜̦͒̈́̒͑̀͗̇́Ä̵̢̨̱̩͓͎͕̹̬̮̦͔̦̮̥͙́͊ͅĄ̷͉͇̖̳̥͕̲̲͖̮̈̈́̋̋́̓͊̾͆́̈́̎͘͝ͅA̴͎͔͈͗͠A̸̧̳̦̞̋̾͌̈́͌͠A̴͚̭̪̝̜̫̭̥̺̙̱͕̼̞͌̆̈́̅̈͋̆͑̅̂̒̏́ͅA̵̧͇̣̣̩̗̹̦̟͗̚͜Á̶̝̺̤͓̥̖̰̩̩͎̖͜Ȃ̸͉͔͙́̌̏͌̓̒̅̄̀̋̀̔͘Ą̷͉͕͇̻̲̣̤̼́̃̍̽̎͐͂̿͝͝Ā̴̠̼͍̙̲̩̠̙̩̩͔̋̈́̊̔̊A̶̺͍̪̍͛́̋A̷̧͓̣͕͚̝̩͠Ą̴̻̝̀͊̇́̒̌́̉̀͌͠Ạ̴̧̭͎̹̖͖̻̟͔̯͕̗̹͑̿̊̔̈́͋͘͠͠ͅA̶̡̡̞̘̗͓̺̣̝͛̽̈̈̈͂͜͝A̴̳͉͚̳̰̪̼̣̣̓̆̅̋̊͝ͅ!!!"He Screamed.

Despite that it didn't stop Maddie Fenton from Dissecting his Organs, Taking them out of his body carelessly without anesthesia.

"It seems the specimen can mimic the feeling of Pain, the screams of a child and such... But here we must remember this is all to try and deceive us." She said bluntly as she blatantly ignored all his corrupted pleas of pain, begging her to stop, begging her to let him go. Telling her it hurt, telling her to stop.

Asking.

Begging.

P̸̥̻̯̫͖͈̀̌́͊l̴̅̈́̿̃͆ͅë̶̢̲͔̜͆̽͝ą̴̫͓̺͂̒d̸̢̻͒ȉ̶̜͍̣n̸͔̹̂͗̀̕ͅg̷̫̰̀̈́̽̕.

His tears rolling down his cheeks, soon he lost the ability to scream out any further as he ran out of breathe, losing consciousness due to the intense pain of this Torture they are putting him through.

Please... Stop.... It hurts so much.

Jazz... I miss Jazz... I miss my Big Sister....

[𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 16 , 12:48 𝙰𝙼, 𝙶𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗]

Dante was with Superman, Batman, Flash and Wonder Woman who insisted on coming with the Bat. Jason as well as he fully trusts his lover to not let him get harmed inside this facility. "Inside this... Is where many ghosts and Other Ecto-Entities Are Confined. I can't get in without you heroes." Dante says with a scowl as he dragged his bat through the ground.

"Fright Knight can't as well." Dante stated and glanced at Fright Knight settling his mare beside a tree and heading back to him to stand behind him, Fright Knight still made the heroes feel scared but Dante reassures them it's normal and Fright Knight is just Really the Embodiment of Fear. And that scarecrow is nothing compared to him. Fright Knight looked proud of that statement taking it as a compliment, Jason personally found him cool and chill as his horse also liked Jason, Robin also was very fond of the Knight's Mare and the Mare liked the two immediately which Fright Knight was Pleased with.

"Flash you will evacuate all Ecto-Entities inside the Facility as soon as Superman forces the Facility Open, I will be looking for the little Daniel, Wonder Woman you make sure not a single worker in this facility gets out, Knock em out cold. Do not kill unless absolutely Necessary. Superman you assist Wonder woman and Dante and... Jason..." Bruce looks at the two lovers.

"I do my own thing. I will kill Big Bat, I don't make promises such as "no killing" that's not me. That's Danny." Dante laughs with an ear to ear smirk and Fright Knight also Hummed in amusement as if ready to slay those in his way. "Flash you also make sure that any weapons against ecto-entities will be deactivated at once if you find the source of it's power." Bruce stated ignoring the Uneasiness in his chest with his heart pounding at the thought of the Little Daniel having been tortured... A 13-14 years old child. Only monsters do that. He thinks to himself and scowls.

"On it B!" Flash Says Enthusiastically as Superman Forced a Hole in the Thick Facility Walls, Dante walked in immediately and Fright Knight Guarding Beside him and Jason Following with his guns and a Bat That Dante had gifted him. Bruce took a deep breathe and without hesitation stepped inside the Facility Floors.

[𝙳𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝙾𝚅]

Dante was happy, he beat the Agents Up with His Bat and His Lover Jason, they bonded over this Mutual Causing of Violence and Chaos whilst in the distance no Agent could even come closer to Fright Knight as They threw them around as if they're mere bugs which Dante thinks they are. He says sorry to Jazz in his Mind as she would have been disappointed to see this but he also knows she would support it considering the current situation. But then Dante barely dodged a glowing green Gunshot from Someone. He turns his head to face them.

"Maddie Fenton." He glared at Maddie who was holding a gun with Precision and Kept Shooting at him, "Ecto-Scum, PH4N70M - 000C." She states and she looked at him as if he was an animal, it ticked Dante off and Glanced at Jason, Jason got the hint and Backed away to Fright Knight to keep himself safe as Dante Wants him to be. "It's been a while Maddie. Now where is... Where is my Phantom." He glares at Maddie with Poison Laced in his tone, growling underneath his words, pure aggression in his body language.

"IT'S whereabouts is none of your concern, not when soon we will be the one to personally terminate you." She states with a blank but perceptive Expression, "We?" Dante asks curiously soon saw the Hunk of a Man Charging at Dante. Dante threw his bat on the wall and Wrestled With Jack Fenton. Jack Fenton was a Physical Threat, His movements were to cause as much damage as possible but still precise and Large Aim due to the Man's Size. "I will protect my Wife from you." Jack glared at Dante as he pinned Dante on the wall with one Arm.

Jack jumped back as Dante heats his body up clearly getting Pumped up, He laughs amusingly and combs his bangs back and Tying up his hair with His Abilities. Soon Red And Black Rings former Around Dante and Jason Blushed Unexpectedly at Dante's Real Form cuz Damn, that's hot, those muscle definitions wants to make Jason have a Boner but surely he shouldn't do it right now as he's busy with Killing other Agents.

Fright Knight seemed more pumped up than Before, He laughed in excitement, "Now the Banquet of Blood Shall Rein High in this unpleasant Facility." Fright Knight says Excitedly as Dante Laughed and Wrestled again with Jack Fenton, Jack Was Trying his best to dodge the Fast and Hard Blows Dante was Dealing towards him, Maddie assisting him with her now Amazing outstanding aim managing to Hit Dante once in the arm which gave Jack an Opening to Send Dante flying to the Wall.

Dante recovered within mere seconds, the Dust Fog covering his Body but not his Presence and His Piercing Crimson Eyes that Screamed "Murder and Blood", Pure Bloodlust Painted across his face with his unnaturally Wide Grin. He laughed deeply, a growl under his Amused Tone. Dante charged at Jack again but As Jack got into a defensive stance Dante went Intangible and Went through him and Tackling Maddie to the Wall nearly lodging her deep in the Thick metal walls, Jack Grabbed him and Threw him at the wall to check up on his wife but Dante's Recovery to the situation got faster and he sent himself back at Jack who somehow successfully blocked his Blow.

Dante laughed as the two Fenton's fought hard against them with Ease but now they're at a disadvantage as Maddie's Injuries causes her to miss much more often. Dante looked as though he was bored now and then he clawed Jack's Chest And Dug his claws deep as Jack Grabbed him again and threw him away, Jack coughed up blood and Maddie Yelled out his name in worry but Before she could run to her husband Dante out of nowhere plunged his Arm right through her chest, holding her still beating heart.

She coughed, slowly her eyes was drained of it's life as Dante pulled out his arm out of her chest and she fell to the ground bleeding out the rest of her Insides. Dante slowly walked over to the Weakened Jack, jack still tried to Fight Which Dante Regrettably Found Admirable about the Man, although an idiot he was strong... Such wasted Potential.

Dante grabbed the Bat he threw to the side and Dragged His Bat hard and thorough towards Jack's Wound in his chest, Causing him to cough up more blood and fall over to his back, Dante grabbed a Crowbar he pulled out of his chest and hit it on Jack's Head Until it lodged into his visible Skull, his brain guts spilling out as Dante Huffed and Laughed in Victory as he has finally gotten his revenge on The Fenton's he so loathe. Such hatred was much stronger than his hatred for Vlad. (Who is now still legally his adoptive Father)

Dante opened his mouth unnaturally Wide and ate Maddie's Heart, he licked his blood tainted lips and Pulled a towel from his chest to wipe the blood off his hands and Walk over to Jason. Jason was stunned and Fright Knight was also Bloody as he has been given permission indirectly by Dante to kill the agents without hesitation. Both Ghosts were pleased with their Bloodlust Being Quenched and Dante Kisses Jason's/Red Hood's Forehead and Caressed his cheek Carefully and Gently.

"You don't hate me right Ba—" Dante was cut off by Jason's coughing, "That was so hot to be honest—" he Stated and Clearing his throat, still in shock and Dante merely laughed in amusement as his lover didn't hate him for what he's done. Jason stared at his chest and even poked them still cooing over his Muscles and Everything as if Jason doesn't see it everyday when they're taking a shower together.

But that's just another story for another day as that's their private life.. but then again he found Jason's admiration of his Body Physique Relatable as Dante also Coos Over Jason's Ass whenever he can so it's a win win for both lovers.

[𝙱𝚊𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚗 / 𝙱𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚎 𝚆𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎 𝙿𝙾𝚅]

"I found Daniel James Masters... Or Danny..." he mutters over the Comms as Flash was Finishing up with Letting and Freeing the Ghosts from their Containment and Them heading instinctively to the Ghost Mare which now made sense on why the terrifying Fright Knight Left it there.

Bruce Cradled the Child's Body in his arms Gently, he had wounds that had looked fresh but also healed at the same time, his hair Pitch Black with white in the undercut, The Kid was Pale with Constellation Like Glowing Green Freckles Adorning his Innocent Face, a Muzzle that had no holes and a Too tight collar connected to the collar with odd beeping and possibly an electric shocker also lodged deep in his delicate pale skin. His body was Thin, his body too light for someone his age, he looks... He looks so much like Jason when he first... In... Just like in that Warehouse...... Bruce thought as his heart cried and ached at the sight of the nearly dead - half dead kid Infront of him, It made Bruce want to break into tears.

He slowly stood up carrying the Child through the now Red Tainted Halls, Ignoring the Bodies that surrounded him presumably the people Dante had Massacred out of Revenge, His Breathing Hitched as he continued to stared at the cold bodied child in his arms, cradling him softly as he caught himself humming a soft lullaby as he saw the Kid's unconscious expression soften at it, Bruce's Gaze Softens as he Carries the child out of the Facility, the other ghosts being taken care of by Fright Knight but Some checking up on Phantom, they called him their Precious Prince. Their Source of Purpose and Existence In the Ghost Zone or Infinite Realms as they liked to call it.

Dante although being covered in the blood of others did not stop the Younger Looking Ghosts to Stick to him, calling him King Regent, they thanked him, tears forming in their delicate small eyes as they thanked the Heroes which made The others want to tear up as Fright Knight Led them towards a Portal that eerily resembled Lazarus Waters. Just purer and much Cleaner.

"Thank you! Please have a long life!" The younger ghosts Waved Happily at them, the animal Ghosts running into through the portal as soon as they saw it manifest.

"Thank You sir speedster!"

"We thank you all!"

"Please live long!"

"We love you!"

"Thank you for stopping our agony!"

"Thank you Avenging us!"

Although The heroes were used to being thanked by people but it was not the same feeling as when an already Dead Child... Thanks them for Avenging them... Children that was already dead who had to suffer another hell because of Humans that were still living. Thanking them for Freeing their souls. It made Wonder Woman's Heart want to cry out but instead she waved them off with a hearty yet Pained smile.

"Don't worry! We'll make sure there's no more victims in the future!" Flash reassures the ghosts which made the older ones smile softly at them with pained but relieved expressions tainting their wounded Faces. They too muttered a small yet more silent and calm Thank you as they passed through the Portal.

"What will happen to them now?" Superman Asks holding back tears. "... Pass on. They will pass on to a better life or they will willingly live in the ghost zone in their afterlife until they Decided to take the route of Reincarnation." Dante says and sighs in relief, he smiles softly which contradicts what he looks like right now which is a bloody Murderous Mess. He looked at Bruce then at his hands, "you carry him for now. Let's go." Dante states and the Other Heroes Nod as they are now heading off back to Gotham to get Danny some rest and Also for Dante to be able to Contact Frostbite and Help out Danny's Weakened Core.

He will let Ember and the other ghosts deal with the Souls of the Facility... He knows they'll make them burn. Burn in the fires that is of hell where Walker will force them down to Lucifer Himself. Much to Lucifer's Demands he cannot really stop the superior fuckers that is The Ancients and the Orders of the King Regent, 'Sassy Gay-Like Zesty Bastard' Dante thinks to himself thinking of the King of Hell Lucifer but right now he will just focus on The Future Ahead of Danny, It was not the most pleasant. He'll go into Operation WWJD. What would Jazz Do? Would she comfort Danny? Totally. Would she Console Danny? absolutely. Would she suggest he go to therapy? Maybe. Maybe he'll also get therapy from one of the Yeti's but that's for another Day.

His rant thinking was interrupted with Jason leaning his Head On Dante's Shoulder as they sat in the backseat of the BatMobile as Dante had accidentally lost his keys to his Bike which pissed him off enough that he also destroyed the bike much to Jason's Delight. Danny was in his arms, breathing steadily as Dante slowly fed him his ectoplasm through their Fraid Bond, also Dante did not have purest Ectoplasm it was the best he could do At the moment, Feeding Danny was a Priority in his list, second to getting Danny to Frostbite for Medical Care.

Dante smiles, Bruce looked Calmer and Relaxed, the tension in his body had faded as soon as he got Danny Safe and out of the Facility. Dante has a slight hint of guess that Bruce might want to Adopt Danny which is totally fine for Dante because atleast he's Vlad's Legal Son and He won't become his Lover's By Law Brother cuz that would be weird. Today was wonderful nontheless.

Atleast now he has Danny Safe Again and Maybe being with the Wayne's would make it safer with the boy... All he wishes now is His Baby Brother's Safety and Jason's Safety out of everything else. That was all he needed.

His family to be safe.

SIDE STORY (Vlad/Clockwork):

"Daddy! Daddy! Dante is coming back home with Dan—" she walked into the room abruptly and stunned as he saw a shirtless Clockwork Pinning down her Father on his bed who was also Shirtless.

"Hello there little Ellie, I did not expect you to come here!" Clockwork says calmly, "Oh Butter Biscuits— ELLIE—" Vlad says panicked but Clockwork kept his hands pinned down, "your daddy and I are busy... Playing Adult Stuff... How bout you play outside with your friends from school?" Clockwork says with a smile.

"Okay!" Ellie says Enthusiastically as Clockwork bribed her with a candy and a wad of cash she can use to spend with her friends, much to her friends Denial and Insistentence that she not give them money they can't stop her. Ellie soon Promptly walked out after finishing counting her Pocket Money.

"Now where Were we?" Clockwork licked his lips teasingly As he bit on Vlad's Goddamn Neck. "Mercy." Vlad pleads bluntly with a flushed face and Clockwork looked like he thought about it for a moment. "Maybe. Maybe not, my Plasmius." clockwork said with a cheeky fucking smile, his tone was teasing but also Daring.

Someone Save Vlad (/J)

Side Story Made me Blush 🤭🤭☺️☺️

Hope y'all enjoyed (THIS IS SO DELAYED ONG—)

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adventuresofalgy · 28 days ago

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It has recently come to Algy's attention – and of course he is aware that he should have thought of this long, long ago – that some of the kind friends who follow his adventures do not see the colourful autumn landscapes of the wild west Highlands of Scotland in the same way as other followers. Algy realised that this environment, so rich in an array of varying russets, reds and greens, must look very different to friends with an alternative kind of vision.

So Algy requested his assistant to present his latest adventure without the use of colour, although he did stipulate just one special exception 😀 (And he reports that his assistant found that it was a considerable challenge which greatly enhanced her appreciation of photographers who work in black and white, especially with a subject so rich in the small details of vegetation!)

As he rested pensively on the banks of the trickling burn, Algy began to think in more detail about how his adventures might be viewed and, knowing that quite a few of his friends were a wee bit past their first youth, he understood that the question of sight in general might well be an issue for some. Of course the challenges that deteriorating or impaired eyesight present are entirely different from the condition of colourblindness, but nevertheless raised questions in Algy's mind about what his different friends might actually see in the photographic records of his adventures.

So for all those friends who see colour in a different way, Algy has persuaded his assistant to produce this alternative photographic rendition of his local landscape today.

And for those friends whose vision overall may be limited, problematic, or a serious concern for the future, he offers this famous poem from several centuries ago, although he is quite sure that most will remain determined to do far more than just stand and wait 😀

When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide; “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?” I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest: They also serve who only stand and wait.”

[Algy is quoting Sonnet 19: When I consider how my light is spent by the 17th century English poet John Milton.]

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blackreaderfics · 1 year ago

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Off the Record | Clark Kent x Black!Reader

↳ Pairing : MAWS Clark Kent x Rapper!Reader (You)

↳ Rating : M (18+)

↳ Summary : Clark knows Kryptonians don't experience sexual attraction in the same way humans do. One night, he figures out who exactly turns him on.

↳ W.C : ~1.2k

↳ Tags + Warnings : logicalnerd!clark, clark is a late bloomer kinda, kryptonian biology is weird i guess, allusions to asexuality, sexual awakening(?), pwp, masturbation, fantasizing, onlyfans lol, mentions of leaked sextape

Masturbation was healthy; that much Clark had already known from sex ed classes and Google searches. And though he knew from his research that most pubescent kids started jerking off in middle school, along with having erections, he had never in his 30 years of life experienced sexual attraction. Ever.

When kids in high school drooled over naked women posing on the covers of Playboys or Maxims, he still tried his best to act the part of "horny teenager". He had crushes in his teen years too, but he never actively sought out sex.

There was this one time when a girl he liked had tried to initiate sex, but he was honest to a fault and truthfully told her that he didn’t like her in that way. Needless to say, she’d gotten offended and never spoke to him again. Since then, he’d hidden that quirk about himself from every single one of his romantic partners without fail.

Don’t get him wrong, Clark has had sex before and from what he could tell, he was pretty good at it too. Just like with his studies, as long he understood the proper mechanics of the subject at hand, he could go above and beyond for any performance.

It was basic biology. Having an erection required a higher flow of blood towards his penis; which he could do himself pretty easily since he had amazing control over his body. That was the result of learning how to be Superman for the past few years. Because of his “training” he lasted long and the (very) few men and women he chose to bed loved him more for it.

There were still some things he thought he’d never understand the concept of, however. Like, how do Kryptonians procreate if he can’t seem to produce the semen to ejaculate? The white liquid he’d seen in porn as a teen was like a myth to him. Jor-El never mentioned that in the Fortress of Solitude. He wouldn't be finding any Kryptonian biological literature available to read at any Metropolis public library either. It wasn’t like he didn’t try, but after some (controlled) tests, he concluded that perhaps Kryptonians didn’t ejaculate and he was okay with that.

So when Clark felt a strange sensation in his pants one night when he saw you on TV, he immediately thought that he’d fallen ill. Which was strange for him because, well, he’d never gotten sick. But there you were, mesmerizing him as clips flashed on screen of you rapping while wearing a risqué outfit leaving nothing to the imagination. Suddenly everything felt too tight, too hot. He gulped, nervously pulling at the collar of his t-shirt, but a knot remained lodged in his throat.

The camera angles panned across your chocolatey skin and ample curves, cutting right at moments where it veered dangerously into porn instead of what it was supposed to be—a rap music video. Clark had seen porn before and full-on bare naked women anyway, but he’d never been affected like this before. So why now? And why you?

Once the music video ended, Clark snapped out of his trance, but it wasn’t long before the now rock-hard and throbbing situation in his pants urgently reminded him of more pressing matters.

He quickly powered on his computer to search your name and, not long after, pictures of you filled the screen. There was a never-ending stream of shots of you on the red carpet, you on stage, photoshoots, and pictures you’d uploaded yourself on social media.

Every time his eyes would linger on a photo of you in a suggestive position, i.e. licking a popsicle or pushing your breasts together, his cock would twitch against his zipper. It didn’t take a genius to figure out where his cock wanted to be right now and it was right at the back of your throat. He unbuckled his pants, letting his first-ever unassisted erection bob up and against his sweater-clad stomach.

He’d never fantasized about someone having his cock in their mouth until tonight. Sure, his partners had given him blowjobs before, but he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy them. Truthfully, it looked like it hurt when they couldn’t even take all of him in, and he never liked to be the reason anyone felt pain. Clark scrolled on.

You had a sex tape? His brow furrowed in disapproval though he could feel his face grow warm. He couldn’t pinpoint what exact emotion he was feeling right now. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t a positive one.

The page he had landed on showed a closeup of you, eyebrows knitted in ecstasy as someone (he didn’t want to know who) hovered behind, hands gripping your ass, already in the middle of ravishing you. The screenshot made the corners of his mouth tug down in a frown. He didn’t particularly like the idea of watching other people have sex at all. And he especially didn’t want to see some other guy “balls deep” inside you instead of him.

More importantly, it just wasn’t right. He’d seen reports that your tape had been leaked without your consent; by watching it he would be actively infringing on your sexual boundaries. That definitely wasn’t right either and though he desperately wanted to, he didn’t have the heart to press play.

Onlyfans? Clark's eyebrows quirked up in curiosity. He clicked on a link he’d found on your Instagram page and there you were; verified with pages of content ready to be unlocked. After a moment of thought, he concluded that this was the most ethical alternative; much better than masturbating to your pictures or your sex tape. This way you would be paid for your work, and he would gain implied consent as a customer. He felt much better about this as he clicked the blue purchase button.

His cock throbbed again when he finally saw you, full lips planting soft kisses onto a dildo, your large almond eyes heavy-lidded and boring into him with lust. That’s when Clark brought a hand to his cock and began to stroke. What was once a motion that was alien to him, felt more and more natural as he pumped, matching his strokes to your pace. Your image on screen bobbed your mouth up and down making lewd slurps and moans, purposefully throating the shaft to the hilt. Each brief moment you came up for air brought a mess of saliva with you.

Clark watched on, immersed, bucking his hips into his fist as he imagined he was the one making you make those vulgar sounds. But something in the back of his mind was disturbed. Was this what he, Clark Kent, liked or was it an innate biological desire he couldn’t control from a planet he never knew? He felt disconnected; outside his body until, not even a minute after he had started the video, a sensation he’d never felt before came over him. He groaned and tightened his grip as he felt himself release.

A warm sticky liquid had dripped down his cock and onto his hand. Clark grimaced down at the mess he’d made, breathing erratically until he finally calmed down. His cock twitched and the last of dregs of his cum spilled out from his reddened tip.

He'd made two major discoveries that night:

1. Kryptonians did ejaculate after all, and 2. When it came to you, he wouldn’t be able to last very long.

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

#I have a part 2 idea for this ><#I want him to be assigned to interview rapper!reader lmao #i didnt mean for this to be kinda funny but it is #clark kent x black!reader #x black reader #black reader #clark kent smut #clark kent x reader #my adventures with superman #maws imagines #maws x reader #maws x you #brfwrites

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k-hotchoisan · 1 year ago

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🔮 Divination with the Demon 🔮

Behemoth demon!San x fem witch! Reader

Synopsis: outcasted by your previous coven due to your overly sharp and dangerously specific divination readings of the fall of your coven, you were exiled to being alone for the next 562 years. Sick being in solitude and missing your deck, you summon a behemoth demon to make a new one.

Word count: 6K

Genre warnings: general Smut, San is an eldritch being so he has like a demon sized dick, ritualistic things (magic talk and lingo), demonic contract with San through unprotected sex, riding, multiple orgasms, creaming & cream pies, oral sex (f receiving) cum drinking (not a lot), bulge kink, finger pricks (only once), dry humping(?), biting and bleeding, San is a really sweet behemoth—just like the one in the game!❤️

A/n: loosely based off this wonderful game—The Cosmic Wheel, Sisterhood🔮 (please go ahead and support indie creators! ❤️). I was so inspired bc the behemoth in game is such a flirt hehehehe no please I’m down bad for enough people already. 😐

Enjoy!

“So you were exiled here due to treason within the coven, and concern of spreading panic via divination readings by the supreme”, the witch arbitrator announces as she reads out from the book. “You’ve been here for 289 years already?”

“Concerned is an overstatement”, you reply through gritted teeth. “She cursed me, banished me here for the next 562 years, and burned my deck. That’s pretty fucked up.”

The arbitrator raises an eyebrow as her gaze returns to the book. “Well I suppose I could grant you visitation at least because by the records here so far, you’ve been pretty-behaved.” Your temper cools off a little—just a little. It was a step forward, albeit a fucking tiny one. “Yes. I think that would be fine, Arbitrator. Thank you.”

She nods at you. “Behave well and I’m sure she can’t implicate anything else on you. Please take care”, she says before leaving the window on her flying stick. You stare as her figure quickly disappears into the starless night sky.

You sigh in annoyance. It was ridiculous how the supreme deemed your divination readings a threat, then subsequently accused you of treason and causing unrest within the coven, just because the other sisters had started leaning onto you for your accurate readings. Was she afraid of your prophesized dissolving of the coven, or was she simply scared of being overthrown? Whatever it was, being stuck here in solitude for 562 years, and your deck burned at the stake was not on your bingo list.

You nibble on your thumb nail, thinking of what to do. 289 years had passed since then, and all you had been doing was meditate and reflect on your actions. You had an itching to get your deck back—or least have a temporary deck or something. Your eyes flicker to your grimore lying at the bottom of your bookshelf and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

If you couldn’t get your deck back, why not make a new one? However the only issue is that a contract had to be made in order to breathe magick into the deck. You’ve never tried this ritual before but desperate times called for desperate measures—you really needed to do a reading.

You circle the wooden floor with your fingers, feeling the bumpy texture—each crease and indent. Retrieving your matchbox, you pull out the deep purple matchstick from the bundle, and began lighting the dark-coloured candles formed in a circle, and finally the incense sticks that were lodged in a miniature caldron, used for holding said sticks for your rituals.

Dabbing your your index finger with a black inky substance, you draw out a summoning rune onto the wooden surface, chants leaving your lips as you do so. It was a perfect full moon that night, just what you needed. You sit at edge of the summoning circle, with your grimore open at the side, carefully reading the spell.

Taking out a small silver needle, you prick your middle finger, letting the blood pool the size of a pinprick before letting the drop of blood splatter onto the middle of the black rune, reciting your final chant.

For a moment, the room is dead silent. Then the wind picks up, howling into the dead of the night, the flames on the candles dancing to keep burning, then being quickly extinguished one by one. Your curtains flutter violently, as you notice the full moon turning into a crimson colour. You stay seated as the wind whirls around you and the grimore’s pages flipping non stop. The rune activates, along with your blood which sinks into the black ink, and something slithers up to your window.

“Come in,” you invite, your gaze never breaking from the entity. It hisses at first before turning into a more human-sized creature as it enters your room, its feet gingerly touching the wooden floor.

The candles’ flames flicker back on, you look up at the entity standing before you. He barely looked like a behemoth demon—not like the one described in the book at all. Instead, he looked pretty fucking young—he has an appearance of a younger male actually. His eyes were silts as black and red markings smudged at the ends of his eyes. Speaking of his eyes—they were a glowing red, almost enchanting. Incantation runes were littered all over his arms and limbs, all visible since he was wearing a black vest. A third eye was present right smack in the middle of where his cleavage dived into, it’s iris a deep red as well. His hair is jet black with cream streaks and slicked back, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and facial features. His lips are stretched slightly wider than a human’s, and seemingly torn black wings extended out from his back.

He tilts his head at you in curiosity. “A witch summoned me?” he asks as he inches closer to you.

You nod, still seated. “I’ve summoned you to make a blood bind with you. I need a new deck.”

“Well, you’ve definitely summoned the right behemoth, that’s for sure. What happened to the deck you’ve been using?” he prods, his jet black fingers tapping on his chin.

“It was burned by my coven’s supreme. She banished me here because she was scared that the coven would dissolve because of my divinations”, you reply.

“Quite a bitch isn’t she?” the behemoth replies. You nod. At least someone fucking agrees.

He cracks his knuckles. “Well, you’ve definitely came to the right behemoth. They call me San”, he introduces as a smile spreads over his pretty face.

You smile. “You don’t look how what I expected you to look actually.”

And that cracks San up, his sharp fangs all visible. “I get that a lot. It’s just my secondary form I prefer to take on since the first usually can’t fit through windows.”

You surprise your laughter, amused at how casual this behemoth is being. “You’re pretty casual for a behemoth actually,” you point out.

San nods. “Well, I am an eldritch nonetheless, and I’ve been here since these universes were born—I’ve watched them be born and destroyed countless of times. I don’t really feel the need to be intimidating since I’ve been around for too long. You’re the first to have summoned me since the past 3 centuries.”

You nod in interest. “Must have been pretty fucking boring out there, huh?” San only smiles, and that slightly gets you. You look away and shut the grimore before turning back to him.

“So walk me through the process, San” you request. San moves forward and he sits across you, his boney wings tapping against the window panes at how wide they were.

“Well, you know the basics, but we’ll go through it together—the elements—fire, air, earth and water are always the building foundations of any deck. You get that, right?”

You nod.

He continues, “then we go onto the elements of each card—the Arcana—which will determine how you read and interpret the cards.”

Pretty basic deck stuff, but it was great that he was taking the time to refresh your memory since it had been way too long.

“I will go through each element with you per day—you’re basically going back to magick school again. Then once the final element is sealed, that’s when I’ll bind myself to you, through another ritual”, he concludes. “Any questions?”

“What’s the other ritual? Do I need to prepare anything?” You ask. San shakes his head. “The only thing you need to prepare is your consent.”

“Yeah, sure of course.”

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest y/n.”

Day one: Air

Sure enough, at the same timing as the previous night, San slithers into your open window, his serpent-like tail splitting into two, long legs as he climbs into your room.

“Good evening to the lovely behemoth”, you greet. San exposes his fanged grin. “I see you’re already prepared for the first lesson.” He glances at the empty deck of cards piled up on the small wooden table. Scattered around are more candles, another stick of incense, crystals and a bowl of ink for rune casting, and finally, a small crystal sword right by the plate.

He begins. “The element air represents the ability to reflect, communicate, to be aware and to perceive. Let that flow through your veins as you charge the card.”

You gingerly placed an empty card onto the selenite plate, and San sits across you, as usual as his fingertips touch yours, where he ends up linking his fingers with yours.

“It’s time to seal the card. Tell me,” San asks, “what do you crave for the most? Power? Love? Knowledge of the universe?”

You pause to think about your answer. And you tell him once you’re ready. He nods in agreement. “You seem like the type.” You roll your eyes.

“We literally just met yesterday, San” you joke. He shrugs, “feels like I’ve known you for an eternity.”

“Lying ass,” you poke. “But you did mention that the last time you did this was, what, three centuries ago?”

San nods. “It definitely has been awhile. To be fairly honest, I had an inkling we would meet soon, just not this soon.”

“And the universe brought you to me”, you hum. “Okay. Back to the Air ritual.”

He gestures you to shut your eyes and you do, so he follows shortly after.

It doesn’t take long for the magick to activate. You feel your energy getting sucked off by San and it feels though as if your body was about to be ripped into a million pieces. San throws his head back in pleasure as a low, manic cackle rumbles through his vocal chords.

“Yes, that’s lovely. Pour in all that energy into me, master”, he sings. He soon lets go of you, and you gasp for air, beads of perspiration clinging onto your forehead and temples. Your hands had slipped out his and you clutch your chest, taking slow breaths.

“Fuck, San, is it supposed to hurt so much?” You heave, eyebrows furrowed. How in Astaroth’s name will you be able to pull through the next three elements if Air is already leaving you clutching for your fucking life? Granted, witches are immortal, they cannot die, but they can still be gravely wounded.

San turns to you and pats your back gently. “I’m sorry my master, it is part of the blood contract. If it makes you feel better, you only have to go through this once per element.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unsure if you should be concerned or relieved. San materialises a silk handkerchief and dabs the sweat off your skin, and your heart flutters slightly at the gesture. Also, since when did he start calling you ‘Master’?

“Your first air card is ready”, he reminds you. “Now you can create more air elemental cards. Be proud of yourself, my master.” He points to the glowing card on the selenite plate. You reach over and flip the card, and sure enough—what you had envisioned on the card was imprinted onto the once empty card. It glimmers a gorgeous white at its accents. You feel the light and airy feeling surging through your hands as you touch the card, and your heart is racing at how many air cards you can begin creating.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, to steady yourself, and you notice that the third eye on his chest was white now. Your breathing has stabled now and you lie onto your bed where San hums you to sleep, telling you to get some rest.

Day 2: Water

“Are you feeling better?” San asks as he hops into your room. You nod, feeling a strange surge of energy after a night’s rest. The sky was always the same—dark and starless.

“We can start with today’s element”, you say, prepared for the class.

San smiles and nods, as always, he takes a seat across you, and you can’t help but get lost in his crimson eyes.

“Water is all about flow, dealing with emotions, fluidity, spirituality. It is a passive element, often linked with healing and love. However, most witches tend to forget that the calmest elements can be the most deadly when used right.”

Undoubtedly, water was always of both opposite spectrums—extremely calm or extremely malevolent if it wanted to be. Today, you had a small chalice decorated in jewels on the body, filled with moon-charged water. You take another empty card, and begin sketching out the rune you want, with your first water card in your head, clear as day before settling it onto the plate. Once you were done, San’s fingers snake in between yours, and you’re starting to get used to this feeling already.

“Now, the Water seal. Tell me; who or what do you hold closest to your heart? You family? Your intelligence? The coven?

It takes you awhile to think of an answer but then you’re confident when it comes to you. San nods as he lets the answer sink in. “I was kind of hoping you’d stray and say my name, yknow,” he teases. You laugh and slap his palm lightly. “It very well could be. It’s kind of hard to pick though honestly. Maybe I just want to feel something again.”

San cocks an eyebrow, quite touched by your passion. “May this lift any heaviness you feel then”, he says, drawing circles into your palm. Your heart only flutters even more.

“Take a deep breath, master. The element will be sealed soon.”

Just like the previous time, the magick activates, and again, you feel a sharp pain, as if struggling against rough tides of water, your breath sucked out of you. San, humming as he absorbs your energy again, his eyes glowing a pale shade of blue this time. You exhale to get a hold of yourself as the feeling washes over as quickly as it came, clutching the edge of your table. You take deep breaths, your vision focusing on the blue glowing card on the selenite plate. You flip the card over, the serotonin boost seeing how gorgeous the water card was—metallic blue covering the borders of the card and the elements within the card at perfect places.

“I should give you a reading for fun”, you suggest, your fingertips tracing the edges of the card. San’s eyes light up at the idea. “We should do one when you’ve got all four elements. I’d love that.”

You slip the card above the Air element card, clearing out the table, preparing to get some rest as San accompanies you through the night.

Day three: Earth

“Now, Earth is known to be an element of grounding, practically, foundation and stability. It reminds you of who you are at the present moment and gives you a place to stand on”, San explains, flicking the coins on the table. “Just like the ground, it is reliable because it is strong enough to hold you up. The only thing is that it’s hard on you as you are hard on yourself.”

“Tell me; what do you tend to harbour the most? Grudges? The past? Emotions?” He asks again. You tap against your lips, wondering about the answer, and then you tell him once you were ready. He nods in acknowledgement. “Interesting answer, as always from you. You’d probably have a lot you held in, especially in the past hundreds years in solitude.”

“Meditation can only get you so far, when you remember that you were exiled for telling the truth”, you say quietly, staring at the moon, which had turned into a shade of ivory. “My sisters were everything to me.”

San knew that very well. Witches treated each other closer than what a conventional family did. A coven was supposed to protect and bond the sisters, not outcast them.

“But do you still have sisters that you want to see?”

You nod, your eyes twinkling at the thought of two precious sisters who had been there through everything. And you yearned to see them again, now even possible that the arbitrator had granted visitation rights. Maybe you’d send a falcon to them once you were done with your deck creation.

“Now, shall we begin? You’d best prepare yourself, master,” San says as he takes your hand in his. You feel your hands moulding into his automatically, nothing but comfort being offered.

Again, San begins extracting your energy and this time was no different from the previous—it stung, it hurt and a wave of nausea hits you this time. Through the ringing in your ears, you hear San’s laughter as the magick seems to tickle him if anything. And then, it was over.

You tilt your head backwards, trying to get some cool air, trying to let the nausea leave your system.

You feel a warm hand pat your back, then rubbing circles.

“You know, most witches would immediately throw up after this round. You’re holding up really well.”

“Guess I’m one of the best witches then?” You find the strength to joke a little. San laughs and replies, “one of my favourites too.”

The nausea soon goes away and colour starts returning to your cheeks. By then, you were already holding the Earth element card up against the moonlight, admiring the sand-coloured decals lined across the card, as well as the border.

Day four: Fire

San looks rather chirpy tonight, there was a bounce in his steps as he settles himself onto the lavender carpet. “Someone’s excited,” you smirk, putting one of your spell books away.

“Of course! Fire’s my favourite element”, he exclaims, playing around with your unfinished deck. You’ve had created a handful of elemental cards already, 12 of each element, while San was both in and out of your room. All there was left was the Fire element and the deck could almost be complete—you could already taste it. You already did a couple of readings as a warm up with San and you found out a couple of things through the divination readings.

One, his true purpose—other than aiding in the creation of divination decks—was to destroy other universes and guide the dead stars to the recreation of a new one.

Two, despite his chirpy demeanour, the cards revealed that there was some kind of loneliness he harbours, being detached and left to watch over the cosmos for millenniums.

Three, you sort of deduce that he was summoned also to seduce you in some sort of way—and he finds that amusing, and he doesn’t deny it.

Needless to say, San is greatly impressed by your divination skills and offhandedly mentions that he’s in love with the cosmos for bringing him to someone like you.

Soon enough, the both of you were back to business—sitting across each other, a wooden wand splayed across the table this time round.

He begins.

“Fire—the element of willpower, ambition and energy. Those who are able to wield this, wield it well, those who can’t—it takes them awhile. Fire is for inspiration, drive, passion. One of the most beautiful yet difficult elements to control. In the beginning, mankind was the first and the only mammals to be able to manipulate fire.”

“No wonder you like this element so much”, you point out as you scribble the rune onto the empty card.

“If you’re able to handle earth, fire might be a level up in intensity. Don’t push yourself if you can alright?” San reminds you, and you could spot the excitement glinting in his eyes. “Now for the seal; who would you sacrifice to the cosomos for your divination deck? Your immortality? Your coven? Or your family?”

That question weighs heavily in your mind and San gives you the time to answer as he plays with your fingers. You finally give him your answer, and he nods in understanding. “You’re willing to let that go?” You nod.

He smiles, “as long as you know it’s the right choice for you. Let’s begin.”

The ritual starts as usual—the swirl of flames from the candles, the howl of the winds. You prep yourself for the burn and it comes—albeit painfully. San’s eyes are fully engulfed in crimson red now, glowing as he feeds into your energy.

“Beautiful! Your essence is beautiful master! I’ve never felt such extraordinary energy from a witch!” He cries out as red fluid leaks down from his eyes. The runes and symbols on his limbs start glowing and his wings expand, filtering the moonlight. That is all you could remember before your mind buzzes, your ears ring and your head pounds as you black out.

Day ??

Your eyes flutter open, and something is different—you feel it. All the pain you’ve felt has faded, as if it never happened. In fact, energy was surging through you—so much energy. You slowly sit up as you look around the room. Everything looks the same as when you finished the fourth ritual. Perfectly at that moment, San emerges from the darkness and appears slightly different—his hair was slightly longer, his eyes had red smudges, which for some reason made him look even more attractive, and the third eye on his chest was a bright red.

“Hey, you’re awake”, he exclaims as he levitates over to you.

“Was it successful?” You ask. San furrows his eyebrows.

“My master, you were out cold for a couple of days, and the only thing you’re worried about is if the Fire ritual was successful? Care for yourself a little more would you?” San pouts as he pulls a cup of cold water into your arms with his magic.

You thank him softly as you take small sips.

“I was out for a few days from the ritual?” You ask again. San nods. Apparently you blacked out just right after San had finished feeding you, and he had caught you in time before you hit the floor.

“How are you feeling though? Any pain?” He asks, concerned as he brushes his fingers across your forehead. You shake your head and tell him you feel a little more different—more powerful or something. San pulls out the beautiful Fire card, reminding you of your craft. You break into a smile as you take the card off his hands and embrace him into a hug.

Now there was only one ritual left—whatever it was. San hasn’t told you yet and you were too engrossed with creating your cards that it slipped your mind.

“The last ritual,” you say, and you notice slight red tinting his cheeks and your curiosity peaks.

“The last ritual, is to bind us together”, he pauses, “through sex.”

Your jaw drops. “Holy fucking shit. Are you serious?”

San nods. “Yeah I am a behemoth in contract after all. That’s why I uh, said the only thing you needed to prepare for for the final ritual was your consent.”

It wasn’t about that. It was about you being fucked by a demon. You haven’t had physical contact with a human for years, let alone a whole ass demon.

“It might hurt compared to a mortal’s but I’ll try my best to be gentle”, he continues. But you see his confidence slowly dwindle the more you stay silent. “I need to consume your blood through biting as well in order for the pact to be bonded by blood.”

You never thought this would be how the contract would finish. Butterflies filled your stomach as you realise how attracted you were to this behemoth who, despite existing since the birth of the cosmos, was gentle and a soft, even a flirt. If anything, it was almost an honour to be one with him.

“Please, San. We can start the ritual. I wouldn’t ask for anyone else to do it with,” you confess as you leave yourself vulnerable for him. That sealed your consent, and the markings on his limbs start glowing again. San held an expression of relief and affection. He reaches out to you and traps you on the bed, in between his arms.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so happy to hear that”, San confesses next, and his eyes glow a soft, dark red hue. You could see he was trying to hold back.

He leans in slowly and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He is lips are soft and there was a slight burn as you kissed him, but it only drives you to want to indulge in him even more. Only behemoth demons could taste this good. Maybe only San.

You feel his appendage hardening above you and your heart races. He wasn’t kidding—he was way bigger than any of your previous mortal partners. No way was he gonna fit in you. But at the same time, the challenge of trying to take him was exhilarating to think about.

As the kiss continues to deepen, San pulls off his vest, revealing it bare, and you realise that only his limbs were covered in symbols. He peels off your top and tosses it onto the floor as he continues to kiss down to your chin then to your neck. You exhale in pleasure as your fingers find locks of his hair. His tongue licks your neck and it drives you crazy from the slight pricks.

Your bare tits are out for him to gawk at and he dives into them, licking and squeezing them, only pooling the arousal in between your legs.

Your grip on his hair tightens as your soft moans increase in pitch.

“Does that feel good, master?” San asks as he shifts forward to give you a kiss.

You trace some of the runes on his muscled arm, recognising a few of it. “You’ll look even prettier when my rune is engraved onto you, San”, you flirt, and you feel his cock harden even more, pressing against your cunt. “Of course, only for you, master,” he hums as he rubs you against him, and your mind starts getting lost in the pleasure. He peppers kisses down from your nipples, to your abdomen, then your pelvis and finally to your pulsating pussy.

He spreads your legs, glancing up at you before licking your clitoris, the small barbed edges of his tongue causing your hips to jerk upwards. He dives in deeper, wanting to turn you into a mess.

San slowly plunges two fingers into your wet cunt, swallowing hard at how tight your pussy was, imagining how his cock would definitely fucking stretch you out perfectly. He glances up again, looking at you for a reaction before continuing to pump his fingers. Your moans fill the room as he finger fucks you in bliss, hitting the perfect spot. He adds another and your hips lift from the pleasure. It takes a while for you to adjust, and he pulls out his fingers, soaked in your essence. He gives his fingers a good suck.

“Witches tend to have good tasting essences, and yours just happens to taste the best.” Red creeps across your cheeks.

He removes his pants and underwear, revealing a girthy cock, red and angry, spilling with precum. You had to touch the sides of your lips to make sure you weren’t drooling too much. Fuck, how are you gonna take that in you?

“You’re gonna be fine”, San assures. “Tell me if it’s too much for you okay?”

You nod and San presses his tip at your entrance, and pushes in. Your eyes roll back as he pushes another inch in. Fuck, even the heavens could never compete with this feeling of pleasure. San pauses for second and your eyes flicker to his face, which is contorted in pleasure. He seemed like he was about to explode—and he wasn’t even fully in you yet.

“Y/n, you’re so tight. Gods, you’re squeezing me so good”, he pants, his grip tightening against the sheets beside you.

You decide to be a tease, and you shift your cunt deeper into your cock, and San fucking loses it. His eyes were flickering from crimson red to a lighter shade of red. “My master,” he pants in between. “If you’re gonna do it like that, the heavens won’t know what I’d do if I lost control.”

And that provokes you to tease him even more as you push yourself deeper, at the same time bringing your pleasure to almost a fever pitch. San groans as he pushes the rest of him into you.

“Fuck, San, you feel so amazing. If I knew you’d feel this good, I would have summoned you way earlier”, you cry out as he barely pulls out fully before rutting back into you.

San doesn’t forget to pamper you with kisses. It stings, definitely, but the pleasure is definitely overriding the pain. In fact, the pain was probably egging the pleasure even more.

His fingers trace the bulge at where his cock lies in you. “We fit so well, Master. Don’t you think so?”

You were starting to feel to fucked out to form any rational thought, but you nod, staring at him through hooded lids. He fucks into you a couple more times before you stop him. San’s face switches to an expression of concern immediately.

“I want to ride you. I want to feel your cock fully in me, San”, you barely say, rubbing his face gently with your thumb. He sighs in relief as he pulls out of you, causing you to cry in pleasure again, a string of precum connecting his cock to your pussy.

He takes your hand and guides you to his lap as the both of you get comfortable on his lap.

You adjust yourself to sit on his cock and you start grinding against him, the mix of his and your precum reducing the friction and enhancing the pleasure. You made sure you move forwards to reach the tip of his cock and grind backwards. San throws his head back, crying from pleasure as more precum leaks from his sensitive tip. Grinding up on his cock was making you even more soaking wet, sparking even more pleasure as your clit rubs against his wet cock. You continue to swerve your hips on his cock, loving the slight friction that tingles your core. It builds up from the previous time he ate you out, and when he fucked you in missionary.

“How does that feel, Master?” San asks, half lidded. He was starting to get lost in the pleasure every time you grind up to his tip.

“It feels amazing. I think I’m gonna cum-“ you fight to finish the sentence as you speed up, feeling your orgasm approaching sooner than you expected. You cry out in bliss, your orgasm flooding you as your pussy pulses against San’s twitching cock. San is doing everything in his power not to just lift you and fuck you like this, seeing how soaked you were in pleasure with him.

You feel his hands trail up to your ass as he lifts you up gently, angling his cock at your entrance, and slowly lets you go. Your hands press hard against his naked chest as tears start pooling at the corners of your eyes, while drool starts pooling at the corners of your lips as you sink onto his cock.

“You can take me, Master. I know you can”, he whispers into your ears. You sink in deeper to his length and your fingers dig into San’s broad shoulders. His hands snake to your thighs and he cheekily pushes you down and you scream from the fullness of his cock.

“There you go. There’s my good Master. I love how your pussy feels around my cock”, San encourages. He lifts your ass and drops you back into his cock. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

You nod. “So good it’s almost sinful”, you mange out. San snickers. “Nothing too sinful if a behemoth is fucking you so well.”

You lean in for a kiss, and this surprises San but he immediately reciprocates, deepening the kiss quickly.

Soon enough, you are just mindlessly bouncing in his cock, every thrust sending you closer to the edge. San struggles to keep it together as well, as you feel him rutting his hips up.

“Master, I’m gonna cum”, San says, with an expression of desperation and desire.

“Go ahead. You’ve been doing so well”, you reply as you comb his hair back. He leans in, lips attached to your neck as he continues to fuck into you desperately. He bares his fangs and bites into you as his cock spurts into your cunt, filling you up to the brim. Blood pools at the base of your neck, and you cry from the simultaneous pain and pleasure, your second orgasm hitting you right at that point as you cream all over San’s cock.

San licks up the blood on your neck, and the skin heals almost as quickly as it broke just mere seconds ago, and he’s still fucking cumming in your pussy, his lower abdomen twitching.

He removes his lips from your neck and blood stains pool at the corner of his lips. You lift yourself off his cock, his cum just dripping out of your pussy. San holds you gently as he uses his free hand to collect the mixture of fluids on his fingers. He pushes his cum-covered fingers to you and you take it eagerly, savouring the taste albeit it being salty. He takes his turn to lick his hands.

“The contract has been sealed, master”, San confirms, and his eyes glow a bright red.

“That’s lovely. I wouldn’t ask for anyone else, San”, you smile as you plant a kiss on his lips, which takes him by surprise, but he seems nothing less of satisfied.

As the planet begins to shift from the blood pact being created, it shakes the universe. You don’t know what’s about to happen, nor do you care. A burst of energy enters you as you levitate into the air, feeling the energy of the cosmos, as well as elements of the deck. Your cards shuffle, and float around you, and you see all of your creations in its glory. Your own divination deck, bonded to you by blood.

You take a deep breath in, as you settle back onto the bed, your cards shuffling back into its deck, onto the selenite plate. Something catches your attention, and you walk over to the full length mirror leaning against the wall. Something is glowing. You gasp, looking at the behemoth’s rune engraved into your skin, a beautiful crimson red as the glow fades. San, right behind you, tracing over your rune fondly. You look up to him and you notice he has the same rune engraved into this skin—and the only rune around his chest.

“Now we’re official bonded. You did so well, my master,” he compliments, stroking your hair gently, understanding how taxing the rituals must have been, still admiring the shared runes you both had on your bodies. “I will make you happy, I promise.” Your heart skips at beat at his words.

“San”, you call out, even though he’s standing right by you. He hums in attention, his eyes now on you.

“Do you think we could do this more often? Like the fucking?”

San is stunned for a moment as he processes the question. No one had asked him that before. Usually the binding rituals were solely to bind the energies of the witch and behemoth, and it is never done again. He’s confused but he agrees, seemingly happy that you enjoyed the ritual with him.

And that’s what you drown yourself in—doing divination readings for others and San as well, and taking his cock whenever you felt like it. It was too good to pass on. Not to mention he was so good at aftercare—making sure you were alright after every session. Undoubtedly, San, himself, was really starting to enjoy having sex with you as well.

You couldn’t think of wanting anything else.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #smut #ateez fic #choi san smut #ateez san #san x you #san x y/n #san x reader #j

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mariacallous · 10 days ago

Text

Standing next to her hastily packed suitcase in Michigan’s Macomb County Wednesday night, Tyra Muldrow had a bad feeling in her gut.

“I have this eerie feeling that I need to get the hell up out of there,” says Muldrow, a 20-year-old Black woman from Florida. She was in Michigan as a door knocker, hired by a subcontractor for Elon Musk’s America PAC operation to turn out the vote for Donald Trump in the heavily contested working-class suburbs of Detroit.

Muldrow and the rest of her canvassing group of roughly a dozen people had just been fired en masse, after WIRED reported that they had been tricked and threatened as part of Musk’s get-out-the-vote effort. Speaking publicly for the first time about her ordeal, Muldrow says that the canvassers in her group were fired with little explanation beyond a complaint that someone had spoken with the press. Many, including her, were still owed money. Muldrow had to find her own way home; others are still stranded in Michigan.

A representative for Musk and America PAC did not return a request for comment.

On October 15, Muldrow’s cousin Ebony Jones recruited her for the job, offering upwards of $2,000 per week and a return flight, per emails reviewed by WIRED. Muldrow signed a nondisclosure agreement the same day, and was then flown to Michigan on October 18 as part of a campaign for Blitz Canvassing, a subcontractor which had received more than $9 million from America PAC for presidential campaign canvassing as of October 29. Only upon her arrival in Michigan did Muldrow realize what this job would really entail: canvassing for Trump.

No one in her group of contractors—referred to internally as a “cell”—had a driver’s license. They were initially transported via Ubers, and were then driven back and forth for nearly two weeks in a pair of seatless U-Haul vans between their targeted neighborhoods, staying in a series of motels and AirBnBs in the Detroit suburbs of Warren, Livonia, and Mount Clemens. The three suburbs are in Wayne and Macomb County, the latter of which was the only Detroit-area county Trump won in 2020. In Macomb, where Muldrow primarily spent her time canvassing, he got 53 percent of the vote—almost exactly the same level of support he earned in 2016, when he secured a margin of tens of thousands of votes in a state decided by a little more than 10,000 votes.

The cell was composed entirely of Black people, strangers from out of state who did not know each other but were usually forced to share rooms, according to Muldrow. According to a text message from Jones, Muldrow was promised $1.50 per door, and $2 per door if she knocked 1000 or more doors per week—an all but impossible number. Muldrow further says they were told they would have to pay for their lodging unless they met the unrealistic quotas. The contract the door knockers signed stated they were “expected to maintain a 17-22% engagement rate during the campaign,” a high target relative to the number of people who typically open their door for a stranger. Videos recorded by Muldrow show cramped living quarters and frequent bickering between members of the cell.

“Our subcontractors never should have driven their canvassers in a U-Haul van and those involved were immediately reprimanded,” Tim Pollard of Blitz Canvassing tells WIRED.

On Wednesday, October 30, Muldrow and her fellow door knockers were fired hours after the publication of the WIRED story.

At first, some people had trouble logging into Campaign Sidekick, the glitchy app used by America PAC for canvassing. There was confusion before they were finally told it was over: “Everyone is fired,” said Jones, who served as the door knockers’ manager, in a GroupMe chat, according to screenshots obtained by WIRED.

Jones did not reply to a request for comment.

Muldrow thought Jones might be joking about everyone getting fired, but some of the door knockers noticed they had been locked out of Campaign Sidekick, according to the group chat.

“I called my mom immediately,” Muldrow says. “My mom told me I was overreacting because, it's [my] cousin, so she was like, ‘Oh, maybe she's playing a joke on you guys. Don't take it literal.’ And my mom was like, ‘She sent you up there in the first place. You went with her. If anything, you would have your flight home through her. She's not going to let you be stranded.’”

Then, Muldrow says, Jones began asking the door knockers which one of them spoke to the press.

As arguments ensued, Muldrow started to fear for her safety. Muldrow packed up her belongings and called Connor Berdy, a 29-year-old political consultant based in Warren, Michigan and the founder of Vote For Change LLC, a consulting group in Southeast Michigan for his community organizing work.

Muldrow had met Berdy—who runs canvassing operations for school board, county commission, and judicial candidates—when, by chance, one of his employees struck up a chat with her while she was canvassing near their home on October 23. Berdy and Muldrow got lunch soon after, and Muldrow told him about how the door knockers in her group had been tricked, threatened, and driven around in U-Hauls to their door knocking locations.

Management had “clearly not prioritized the safety of the workers or the integrity of the operation,” says Berdy.

Berdy then arrived, and pretended to be an Uber driver to get Muldrow out of the situation. He had already bought Muldrow a flight back home to Florida, paying out of his own pocket.

“First I see Tyra on the side of the road with her suitcase and everything,” Berdy tells WIRED. “So I pull up, turn my hazards on, act like an Uber, and then right as she starts walking around, I hear someone say, ‘Where's Tyra?’ And, ‘Oh, that sneaky little bitch.’”

Muldrow made it to the airport and on to her flight home. At that point, she says, she had only been paid $69 for the canvassing job, for which she had been promised she could earn upwards of $2,000 a week. A Cash App payment she showed WIRED for that dollar amount was listed as “for Gotv”—the acronym for get out the vote. Muldrow says she texted Jones asking when she would get the rest of the money she was owed. All she got was a read receipt.

As of Saturday evening, at least three others from the canvassing group hadn’t received full payment for the work they’d done before being fired, according to screenshots from the GroupMe chat.

“Following the incident, some of the canvassers and contractors involved left the program, some decided to stay, all have been paid,” Pollard says. WIRED could not confirm that canvassers in Muldrow’s group had decided to stay, nor that they have all been paid.

The Trump campaign has largely outsourced its field operation in Michigan, a crucial swing state, to Musk—a move that has come under heavy criticism. Outside of Michigan, America PAC is a codefendant in a class action lawsuit in California over unpaid wages to canvassers and other alleged labor violations, a development first reported by WIRED. Blitz Canvassing has also reportedly had issues with the Campaign Sidekick app flagging door knocks as fake. In Nevada and Arizona, up to a quarter of the door interactions were flagged as potential fakes within the app, according to The Guardian. (“Sidekick was never expected to handle the auditing of America PAC’s door operation. The reason the PAC is confident in its numbers is because of the auditing procedures each canvassing firm puts in place and the auditing procedures of the PAC writ large,” a person familiar with the America PAC operation told The Guardian at the time.)

After she returned home, Muldrow didn’t think she was going to get paid what was owed to her any time soon.

However, on Saturday night, right after WIRED reached out to Jones for comment, Muldrow heard from her cousin for the first time since she’d been fired. “You did not get 1000 doors but to make this right and move forward we will pay you the $2000,” she wrote, according to text messages reviewed by WIRED. “The quickest solution I can think of is to send someone to pay you in cash.”

Later that night, shortly after WIRED reached out to America PAC for comment, Muldrow was pleasantly surprised. She’d just been paid $2,000 on Cash App. The caption?

“For Michigan Gotv 742 doors paid in full.”

A few minutes later, Muldrow got a follow up text from Jones. “Please let wired know that you’ve been paid asap.”

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inoreuct · 1 year ago

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thinking about mermaid sanji and sailor zoro,,,

the sky is cloudless, the sun’s glimmering off the calm water, the crew’s relaxing on the deck as they’re sailing through a clear patch of ocean; by all accounts, it’s a perfect day. luffy hasn’t gotten them into another shenanigan as of yet and zoro’s chilling up in the crow’s nest, half asleep and lethargic with the heat— and then he swears he hears laughter. and it isn’t coming from the ship.

he’s up on his feet immediately and squinting against the glaring light, wondering for a second if he’s seeing a mirage or a trick of the heat shimmer, because they’re sailing by a large, flat rock.

a rock with merfolk on it.

zoro’s shimmying down the mast in record time, ropes lashing around him as his boots hit the deck and he tries not to look like he’s running to the taffrail to catch a better look. (look, he’s curious, alright? merfolk aren’t a total myth, but they aren’t a common sight either.)

(that, and he feels oddly like someone has cast out a fish hook and it’s lodged behind his sternum, tugging him forward and forward until his hands are pressed palm-flat to the railing and he’s leaning over the edge.)

he hears that laugh again, rich and bright, wide eyes snapping to the mer who made it. golden waves shimmer over a leanly muscled shoulder, curling around a sharp jaw to reveal the mer’s pale, slender throat as they tip an oyster back into their mouth. leaning back on his hands — zoro is rather sure he is a he now, as a deep, smooth voice fills his ears, though he’s had enough tongue-lashings from nami to know not to assume — and tossing his hair back affords zoro a glimpse of a beautiful smile and bright blue eyes, blue as the goddamn sky. or maybe the sea. or perhaps the bioluminescent algae that had speckled the walls of this one cave that he’d been to ages ago—

he’s getting sidetracked. some sound must escape him, because suddenly a gaze so keen he feels his skin prickle is on him and he gulps involuntarily. and then for some reason, he opens his mouth. “are you a siren?”

the man’s curly brows narrow in irritation. “are you dead yet?” he snarks, casting zoro a flat stare and sighing in annoyance when zoro just stares back blankly. “no, I’m not a damn siren. lucky for you, we happen to be their… less bloodthirsty cousins.”

“less bloodthirsty meaning…?”

he shares a bored, bemused look with the woman on her elbows beside him, a mer with the richest purple colouring zoro’s seen in his life and a one-shoulder top made of shiny black kelp. “meaning we wouldn’t drag you down to the depths and feast on your carcass, but keep running your mouth and I might just change my mind.”

the mer’s tail is folded elegantly to the side as he lounges, fan-like tail fin trailing in the water, turning his body so that he can look at zoro properly as he tips back another oyster like it’s his god-given right. a tiny voice at the back of zoro’s mind whispers that this isn’t a good idea, whatever this is. it goes ignored. flaxen hair flutters in a slight breeze, sticking to the man’s milky skin in darker spirals where the tips are wet, and zoro’s breath catches as he watches the mer smile with teeth that are just erring on the side of too sharp.

the words register all at once and zoro lurches back, away from the railing, away from golden curls and blue eyes and pale skin. “what did you do,” he grits, resisting the urge to press the heel of his hand into his chest where it suddenly aches.

the mer shrugs. “nothing.”

“bullshit.”

“what’s the matter, sailor? feeling charmed?” that laugh, again, and zoro feels his heart throb. he watches the other man cock his head, studying another oyster in his hand, tilting the shell back and forth as he sucks on his teeth. “we can’t thrall,” he says finally, posture slackening with a sigh and a pout that seems to say what a shame as he picks up a knife and spins it deftly, shucking the shell open with a neat flick of his wrist. “only sirens can do that. whatever you’re feeling, whatever it may be, hasn’t been borne of any influence of mine.”

the oyster goes down and somehow, that sentence makes zoro feel even worse. it’s like he’s had the air punched out of him; he’s rooted, eyes wide, breathing hard as the mer makes a noise of pleasant surprise and pulls a pearl from his mouth, shimmering between his elegant fingers under the sun.

(zoro doesn’t know it yet, but he’s doomed. he was doomed from the start.)

back under the ocean, sanji has a crisis. he doesn’t see humans. he doesn’t meet humans. he and robin had just gone up to enjoy the sunshine and then this— this— brute swings by, with his stupid green hair and his three earrings and his obscenely grimy used-to-be-white shirt— sanji is fuming and he doesn’t know why. swimming laps back and forth across his cave isn’t helping either.

"might you possibly have something to get off your mind?" robin asks lightly, the pages of her book drifting in the water.

sanji does an about-turn and holds in a screech with all his might, forcing himself to relax with an exhale. "i'm just fine, my dear. peachy keen."

"you're making grooves in the floor."

"i'm redecorating."

he rolls the pearl from earlier between his fingers, squeezing it tight until his hand aches. "are you a siren, he asks," he mutters mutinously, fins fluttering as he throws himself onto a seaweed bed with a scowl. "how could a human be so stupid? if we were sirens he'd have been a waterlogged ball of moss on the sea floor by that point— and that hair. he looks like— like—"

"algae?" robin supplies helpfully.

"algae! sentient plant life, that's what he is, a kelp bed. water lettuce. duckweed, even." oh, he's so mad. that marimo pisses him off. the whole lot of them had sailed away, good riddance, because sanji never wants to see any of them ever again. they probably all smelled horrid anyway.

the merman's been following them.

the crow's nest is zoro's territory for a reason; he's the crew's lookout, and he's damn good at his job. for the past few days he's been seeing flashes of a broad tail fin and twists of golden hair. (he very firmly tells himself that he's not just seeing what he wants to see, because one, he might have one remaining eye but his eyesight is still as sharp as he keeps his cutlass, thank you very much. and two, why the hell would he want to see that merman? he isn't about to win any awards for his own manners but that guy had been stuck up and prissy and just rude. he's only been allowed to tag along this far because he hasn't presented himself as an outright threat. zoro doesn't want to see him. nuh-uh.)

(zoro sees things in his dreams, too. ocean eyes and a sly smile. a pale torso, knife in hand and teeth too sharp. he reaches out to see if the other man's hair feels as soft as it looks and he always wakes before he finds out.)

rum doesn't help to loosen the tension that settles against his spine at night, like he's waiting for something. he doesn't know what. anticipation, maybe, would be a better word— but that has a slight positive connotation, and— no. this man might not be a siren, but zoro’s enough of a sailor to know that it sure as hell doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.

he can't afford to go off chasing pretty mermen when he has a crew to protect.

the ship docks for a few days at a barren island. sanji swims laps around the sandy coast and pretends that the thought of his the sailor being beyond his reach doesn't make an anxious itch ripple beneath his scales.

water splashes against the side of the boat, and zoro's at the railing in an instant whether he wants to be or not.

“hello, marimo.”

the merman treads water leisurely, golden hair swirling about his shoulders and gleaming in the faint lantern light. it's early enough after sunset that the stars aren't out yet and it's dark as hell. zoro squints.

a laugh echoes in his ears, light and melodious. already familiar. zoro tries to be mad about that. “a little more to your left, moron.”

“well, i can’t very well fuckin’ see, can i?” he scoffs, and bites back a gasp when the water starts glowing, what the fuck. his stupid heart stutters when he sees him, lit up with gentle blues and yellows from below, flickering with the push and pull of the tide and sweeps of that powerful tail. "hey."

"hello," the mer hums again, lashes long and wet enough that they catch the wavering light. "gonna tell me your name, sailor?"

zoro almost lets it slip. almost. but he bites his tongue as he feels a chill run up the back of his neck; sure enough, a glance over his shoulder confirms that nami is glaring at him. don't do anything stupid, her gaze says, and he turns away with a shudder. their navigator is a threat in her own right. "no."

"okay. marimo it is."

"you— that is insulting," he hisses, because it is. he is roronoa zoro. he came from nothing and made a life for himself out of it. he's one of the best swordsmen on the damn seas and he's part of the best crew he's ever known, and he's been reduced to, what? a floating ball of moss?

"it's accurate," the other man corrects with a smirk. "unless you tell me what else to call you."

zoro fumes, fingertips digging into the taffrail. he's sure his nails are gouging scratches in the wood. "no."

"marimo."

"shut up."

"mosshead."

"shut up!"

"algae-brained, kelp-haired, water cabbage-headed—"

"zoro!"

the mer finally stops, lashes fluttering as something passes over his face.

"my name," he ekes out, "is zoro." nami swears somewhere behind him.

the merman's lips part around the syllables of the word, before he draws in a breath and grins, smug. "okay, marimo."

"wh—?!" zoro throws his hands up in exasperation, scofffing. "you bastard!"

"i asked for your name. never said i would use it."

"you're a piece of shit, blondie."

"call me that again and i'll show you how hard i can bite," the mer sneers with all his teeth on show, blue eyes lit up furious, turning away as he prepares to dive and—

"wait!" zoro yells before he can stop himself, and he curses under his breath. ah, fuck it. already got one foot in it anyway. "what's your name?"

"...oh, darling," the mer sighs, half-amused and airy, his voice slipping away. "you're gonna have to work a little harder for that."

it feels like hours later when zoro steps back with a shaky sigh. the merman reminds him of a strong brandy he’d had what feels like lifetimes ago, burnt caramel and warm sugar and smoke with enough hidden bite to take you by surprise, to sink its teeth into you three shots down. enough to intoxicate if you weren’t careful.

he yelps when nami slaps him across the back of the head, faking a lunge at her with bared teeth even as he rubs a hand over his aching scalp with a huff. her nagging about being more careful barely registers. his hair's getting long; maybe he needs a trim.

(that little voice in the back of his head is wary. hesitant. but now it's asking what if.)

the ship docks again. this island is teeming with life, thriving, lush with rich green foliage and thick forestation— and beautiful women who all seem to find zoro the height of masculine appeal, apparently. sanji curls himself into a nook in the coral reef and lets his fins trail in the water, the corner of his mouth ticking up a little when a baby clownfish comes to nibble curiously at his fingertip. he's not sulking. he's not. that would be fucking embarrassing for so many reasons and he refuses to think about even one of them.

it's the first time that he starts to feel a little stupid. it had been all fun and games, in the beginning when he'd upped and left on a whim; curiosity and intrigue and the good old urge to stick his fingers in all the cracks this human had until sanji understood every part of him, laid out in the sand like the skeleton of a great sea beast.

but now he's so far away from home, aimlessly following a ship— no, not even a ship. following one person on a ship for no real reason at all.

the clownfish ducks beneath his hand, and sanji cups it carefully in his palm. "you're lucky you don't have to deal with romance yet," he tells it sagely before gently shooing it out of his hiding spot. the water above ripples. it's dark again; the crew must have returned to their boat for the night. sanji sighs and unfurls his tail.

it honestly seems like blind optimism at this point, but he really hopes he's not being played for a fool.

zoro's there when he surfaces, peering over the railing and backlit by the lanterns. sanji focuses and brings out his bioluminescence until the little cove they're in is filled with coloured light. "marimo."

"swirly brow," zoro greets in return.

sanji raises one said swirly eyebrow. "that's new."

"i've got more. blondie, of course. curly head. fishboy—"

"fishboy?!" he squawks, enraged. "fuck you!"

"you wish."

"more like the ladies did," sanji scoffs, and immediately wants to try drowning himself.

zoro frowns. "the hell you talking 'bout, curls?"

the burst of bitterness at the back of his throat is just enough to take him by surprise and loosen his tongue. "they were hanging off your arm like—" mm. nope. he's not gonna go there.

the swordsman's eyes widen like he's just realised something, and sanji does not like that at all. "you're jealous."

"no."

"you are!"

"fuck you," he spits, gills flaring. "i am not." he has no reason to be jealous. they are nothing. this— there is nothing between them.

zoro just grins. "catch."

a white thing drops downwards and sanji darts forward on instinct to let it fall into his cupped palms. "what, s'this supposed to be a present for me, marimo?"

"it's— yeah."

he opens his mouth to reply, before he realises what exactly it is he's holding.

the water lotus fills his hands, its soft white petals edged in pale pink, velvety against his fingertips. something catches in his throat and he dips beneath the water to submerge his gills, carefully holding the flower aloft. his heart squeezes.

the waves lap at the bridge of his nose, hiding half his face as he watches zoro rub at the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy. zoro isn't shy. sanji knows this much. he is loud and unabashed and unashamed with everything, with how he lives, with how he talks, with how he loves his crew and everything they entail.

but he looks almost— he's blushing, just a little, red across the tips of his ears as his gaze darts away, looking very much like he's mad at himself. "nami said it means strength and resilience, or something." the breath he huffs is harsh as he scratches at his nape. "i don't know, it's stupid, curly, i just—"

"sanji."

"what?"

"sanji. my name."

sanji doesn't want to know what he looks like as he rises out of the water to cup the flower to his collar. dumb, probably. rightfully so, because all of this is a very dumb decision and it's probably going to end in shambles with his heart broken into pieces in the silt but zoro— he looks up, floating on his back, and zoro's already looking at him with something that could be wonder, if sanji dared to name it.

"where did you get this?" he murmurs, tail fin creating large ripples as he swims a circle, holding the lotus like it's fragile.

"there was a pond full of them on the island. thought you'd like it."

"you don't know what i like." it comes out breathy. his hair melts against his shoulders as he tries to push himself closer, closer, across the space between them, like a fool. "you don't even know me."

and yet, he startles back when zoro jumps the railing, splashing feet-first into the water boots and all and shaking his head like a dog when he resurfaces. sanji shrieks and shields the lotus with his body, everything else momentarily forgotten as he whacks zoro with his tail just hard enough to send the sailor back underwater with a sputtered laugh. "you fucking brute!"

"i want to."

"that made no sense—"

"i don't know you, but i want to." zoro treads closer, and sanji's light ripples off his skin. his eyes are grey. warm granite and the inside of an oyster shell. "will you let me?"

sanji wants. there is nothing between them, but he wants there to be. he wants so hard it hurts. it feels like he's holding his heart in his hands and not a flower. it's the only way to explain how he's suddenly aching, hollow, in the face of something that isn't even a goddamn confession but feels too much like one. there is a flower in his hands and he wants.

“why?”

“dunno.” he gets a shrug, blunt and earnest as ever even as zoro’s mouth twists up at the edge. “maybe i’m charmed.”

he swallows hard, his mouth dry, and he doesn't want to say it but he has to. "if this is some sick thing about me being a mer—"

"wh—? no!" zoro blurts, and he looks so fucking horrified at that moment that it settles something in sanji's stomach instantly. "god, fuck, no. no. it's not like that. i swear on my life."

there are reasons why merfolk don't interact with humans. sanji grew up with the stories. he's seen the skeletons on the sea floor, mangled with the hunting tools of man, incomplete remains of his kin tossed away to their deaths, unable to swim or save themselves— still a better fate than the ones who never returned. the ocean is gentle after the burn of her salt; her waves are familiar, and her children are raised in their push and pull. captivity, at the hands of men for whatever reason, is never so kind.

he inhales sharply as callused hands cup his.

"i'm sorry," zoro says softly, rushed and maybe a little desperate, throat bobbing as his eyes dart across sanji's face. "i'm sorry. i didn't think of that at all."

"good," he finds himself replying as he looks down. "that means it didn't cross your mind."

a muscle ticks in zoro's jaw. "that's fucking sick, curls."

"i know." sanji's tone is matter-of-fact. "but it's what we have to deal with, sometimes." he deflates with a soft huff at the expression on the other man's face, looking away. "if you start saying shit like i'll protect you or whatever, i'm gonna smack you. i can handle myself."

zoro sighs through his nose, slowly, and his hands tighten around sanji's. "i know you can. i've watched you hunt. doesn't mean i can't be mad about it."

his eyebrows go up. "you saw me hunting?"

"mhm," the swordsman hums. "you're strong. fast. resourceful, too."

sanji preens. he knows he is, knows he’s one of, if not the best, but hearing it from zoro is another thing entirely.

"...also, my captain's been begging me to get you to fish for us because we're all crap at it."

that startles a laugh out of him, and he smiles so wide so quick that his cheeks ache. "that can be negotiated."

up this close, it's easy to see that zoro's hair is shorter than it was before, shorn short at the back and blunt enough that it just had to be freshly cut. the possibility of it being for him does something funny to his chest. the dark green strands are spiky, sticking up everywhere now that they're wet, and sanji wants so badly to touch.

he looks down at the flower in their hands, and he doesn't.

"this can't survive in saltwater," he murmurs instead, carefully putting his lotus into zoro's scarred palms. "take care of it for me."

he watches zoro trudge back to shore, one hand with the flower held above his head. he yells, "it better still be alive the next time i come check, marimo!" and he doesn't bother waiting for an answer. he knows zoro heard him.

sanji's gonna play this slow. he's gonna play this smart. and if zoro fucks up, well— he’s on friendly terms with a particular shiver of great whites.

zoro does not, in fact, fuck up. but now he’s constantly being given shit about his pretty merman boyfriend and as much as he pretends he hates it, he really doesn’t. luffy takes one look and declares that sanji’s crew now, zoro, you can’t hog him! dinners are now seafood more often then not, mussels and clams and all sorts of fish, even lobster when sanji finds out it’s nami’s birthday, and franky engineers some sort of transportable bathtub to get him on board.

(sanji brings robin around and franky falls all over himself making transportable bathtub 2.0, but that’s not the point.)

“bioluminescence, right? am i saying that right?” zoro asks, spinning this way and that as he tries to get a good look at sanji’s glowing tail under the water, eyes wide.

“mhm.” the mer lifts his tail fin out of the water, pulling himself closer so zoro can hold both of them up seeing as the pool they’re in is shallow enough to stand in. zoro’s hands twitch around nervously until sanji reaches out and grabs his wrist, pressing his palm flat to wet scales, and his chest aches at the look on zoro’s face.

the cave they’re in is small enough for every little sound to echo. sanji’s tail drips rhythmically, punctuated by the staggered breath zoro sucks in as he hauls sanji closer with an arm low over his stomach. careful fingers trace over the glowing patterns on his tail, fading upwards into his torso, and zoro slides a palm flat against sanji’s spine to lift him up as he presses their foreheads together.

“beautiful,” he breathes, reverent. the reflections from the water dance off his wet skin, and his eyes are mother-of-pearl.

sanji wants to touch, and so he does. he winds his fingers into zoro’s hair and pulls him down and kisses him, tastes salt and rum and the promise of blood when his teeth catch and zoro doesn’t shy from the bite. for the first time in a long time he is safe enough to let himself drift; his tail drapes itself over zoro’s side like a elaborate feather fan, and he giggles at the mental comparison.

he feels zoro smile at his laughter. feels calluses and gentle hands as zoro carries him back out to sea. tastes love when zoro pulls him in for one last kiss before saying goodbye for the night.

it starts with more flowers. then jewellery, intricate metalwork that would be hard to come by under the sea, fishnet cords and crystal pendants and pretty trinket rings, then daggers, silver hairpins with edges sharp enough to slice bone and a particularly beautiful watered-steel knife in a sheath of butter-soft leather. sanji cannot help but feel like he’s being courted, which makes no sense, because zoro knows nothing about merfolk courting traditions.

and then they talk as zoro braids shells into his hair the way perona taught him to (“you didn’t tell me you had a sister?!” “she just never came up!” “what do you mean she just never came up, marimo, what the fuck! this is important?!”) and sanji finds out zoro talked to robin about it, the sneaky bastard.

a tail doesn’t stop him from tackling zoro to the sand to kiss the crap out of him, braids unfinished and hair wound through zoro’s fingers. his heart feels fit to burst when zoro turns to ensure he takes the brunt of the fall because they both know how much sanji hates getting sand stuck in his scales.

the first time sanji gets hurt, zoro goes rather frantic.

it’s barely a scratch, just a slice near the base of his tail courtesy of a rock he hadn’t been able to avoid while hunting, but zoro bodily hauls him back to the ship between bouts of very concerned yelling and yanks off the black bandana always on his arm, scrubs it clean in hot water for good measure before wrapping up his wound, all while making sure no parts of sanji were drying out in the tub.

“marimo, i am fine,” sanji stresses for the twentieth time, shifting up to cup zoro’s face and sighing in resignation as zoro just shakes his head again.

“i don’t care,” the swordsman announces, throwing his hands up like deal with it. “i don’t care. no more hunting until this is completely healed.”

“it is a scratch. a scratch.”

“i don’t give a shit. you’re staying with me for the next few days.”

sanji groans and grumbles and bitches about it, and when zoro bickers right back it just riles him up even more.

(he stays put. he lets zoro scoop him into his lap with unnecessary care. he leans into the kisses zoro presses to his temple and he feels like crying because he is grateful. always.)

slavers attack the ship. sanji may not be a siren, but that does not mean he isn’t dangerous. he has his tail, and his knives, and his love for his crew. this is his crew.

he drags those slavers into the ocean and drowns them one by one.

now, sanji’s friend ivankov is a literal sea witch— so when they toss sanji an amulet and a wink on his birthday, sanji already knows it’s gonna be good.

the amulet gives him fucking legs.

only while he wears it, of course, but when he stumbles out of the surf like a newborn fawn zoro nearly chokes in shock. they spend the day falling over each other laughing as sanji tries to walk. he eats shit more times than he can counts and gets enough sand in his mouth for a lifetime.

later, there is a blanket beneath them and the moon above them and the endless ocean, shimmering under the light as zoro gathers his hair out of his face and kisses him so softly it hurts.

“beautiful,” zoro breathes. he preaches it like the truth. swears it like a promise.

their hands fit, calluses against calluses as zoro thumbs over the tiny patch of scales on sanji’s wrist, iridescent yellow-blue. their fingers lace in a motion they’ve done hundreds of times and still it never feels different than the first.

sanji lays back, and all he sees are stars.

#did yall catch that metaphor of the lotus being sanji's heart #and him literally handing it to zoro and saying “take care of it for me”#BECAUSE I DIDN'T #I ONLY REGISTERED IT AT THE END WHEN I WAS THINKING BACK TO IT #accidental literary device slay #LEMME KNOW IF YALL WANT HCS OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT bcs there is Lore this just got too long for it #one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #sanji #one piece zoro #zoro #ino writes #zosan au

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everydaym0nstrosity · 7 months ago

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145 Of The Best Avantgarde/Experimental Record Labels Of All Time

4iB Records

905 Tapes

Abandonment

Abhorrent A.D.

Aguirre Records

Alchemy Records

American Tapes

Angst

Ant-Zen

Arbor

Artoffact Records

ASRAR

At War With False Noise

Audial Decimation Records

Bacteria Field

Basement Tapes

Beast 666 Tapes

Bizarre Audio Arts

Blackest Ever Black

BloodLust!

Breathing Problem Productions

Broken Flag

Cabin Floor Esoterica

Callow God

((Cave)) Recordings

Chondritic Sound

Cloud Valley

Cloister Recordings

Cold Meat Industry

Cold Spring

Come Organisation

Crucial Blast

Cryo Chamber

Dada Drumming

Dark Vinyl Records

Deadline Recordings

Deathbed Tapes

Depressive Illusions Records

Diseased Audio

Dom/Dom America

Downwards

Drakkar Productions

Drone Records

Editions Mego

Eibon Records

End All Life Productions

Excite Bike

Extreme/Zero Cabal

Fag Tapes

Filth And Violence

Finders Keepers Records

Forced Exposure

Freak Animal Records

Fusty Cunt

Gods Of Tundra

G.R.O.S.S.

Hanson Records

Harbinger Sound

Harsh Head Rituals

Harshnoise

Hooker Vision

Hospital Productions

Housecraft Recordings

Hydra Head Records

iDEAL Recordings

Ipecac Recordings

Infinite Fog Productions

Järtecknet

Less Than Zero

Living Tapes

Loud!

Maggot Valley

Mannequin

Malignant Records

Menstrualrecordings

Monorail Trespassing

Moon Mist Music

Mother Savage Noise Productions

Murder Release

Musica Maxima Magnetica

Mutual Aid Records

Narcolepsia

Nefarious Activities

Night People

No Fun Productions

No Kings

Not Not Fun Records

Nurse Etiquette

Old Europa Cafe

Oxidation

Phantasma Disques

Posh Isolation

Primitive Propaganda

Prophecy Productions

Release The Bats Records

Relapse Records/Release Entertainment

RRRecords

Rotifer Cassettes

Rotorelief

Sacred Bones Records

Satanic Skinhead Propaganda

Segerhuva

Self Abuse Records

Shock

Side Effects

Skam

Skeleton Dust Records

Sky Burial

Slaughter Productions

Sloow Tapes

Smell The Stench

Soffitta Macabre

Sound Of Pig

Southern Lord

Space Slave Editions

Spite

Staalplaat/Nekrophile Rekords

Steinklang Industries

Sterile Records

Susan Lawly

Swampland

Sweat Lodge Guru

Terror

Tesco Organisation

Third Man Records

Thorax Harsh Cassettes

Torso

Total Black

Tranquility Tapes

Trapdoor Tapes

Trash Ritual

Tribe Tapes

Troniks

True Force/Pain Electronics

Turgid Animal

Tzadik

Urashima

Utmarken

Vis A Vis Audio Arts

Wagon

Wax Trax! Records

White Centipede Noise

Weird Input Records

We Release Whatever The Fuck We Want Records

ZSF Produkt/Lowest Music & Arts

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lesdeuxmuses · 2 months ago

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Abramis Brama - Rubicon (Black Lodge Records, 2020)

youtube

#abramis brama #black lodge records #2020 #réédition #2004 #Youtube

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soillodge · 7 months ago

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youtube

#black lodge records #new music #melodic metal #black metal #shoegaze #atmospheric metal #cosmic metal #sweden #Youtube

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tsubasagirl · 10 months ago

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Hugh’s Lobby Dialogue - Past & Present with Pokémon (Japanese Dub)

#trainer hugh #rival hugh #pokemon black and white 2 #pokemon masters #my screen recording #gotta catch up on uploading these #along with lodge gladion things #before ss gladion debuts #then I gotta record those too #I’ve been listening to his new voice lines #and it’s so surreal hearing him saying different things #he sounds gentler too #as opposed to his default lines that we’ve had for 3.5 years now

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mammalsofaction · 19 days ago

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8. Perryshmirtz kissing... In secrecy

From our Prompt list here.

Forbidden Fruit

Rating: M

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: established relationship, forbidden relationship, non graphic violence, canon typical violence, Perry's being monitored, Perry speaks,

A/N: I finished the draft for this months ago before a bunch of shit went down and I had a bad time. I've cleaned it up the best I can now that I have a bit of time to spare, so I hope the wait was worth it Nonnie.

"One last thing before you go, Agent P." Francis calls out, and there was something in his voice, Perry thinks. That makes his heart skip a beat. He has to ensure his face was perfectly neutral as he turns back to the screen of his lair to listen.

"We've had the RnD investigate into the odd cut-offs of your mission recordings, and Carl has made the executive conclusion they've been tampered with." The Major says carefully, his dark brown eyes almost subtly calculating. He clears his throat. "You wouldn't--ah--know anything about that, would you?"

Perry ensures to provide a thoughtful pause before firmly shaking his head. The Major hums.

"Well, get to the bottom of that, Agent P."

Perry gives Francis a characterically sharp salute, and jumps into the parked hoverjet on its designated landing. He watches the screen go black as the Major dismissively ends transmission, but it takes the whole flight over to DEI to calm his heart rate back down.

---

Their wrestling this time around had taken them into the open air balcony of the lab, and Perry knows Heinz had figured he's been off-key all morning.

Heinz doesn't give him any less quarter nevertheless, and Perry's so out of it he'd almost given him an opening--or three.

He ducks sharply--just in time for the Phillips' screwdriver Heinz had been aiming for his head lodges into the wall behind him, and Perry takes that second of momentum to sweep the scientist's clumsy feet from under him, forcing them both into a barrel roll across the laboratory floor. Heinz grunts as Perry slams his head into the polished tiles, teeth barred.

"Where are you?" Heinz asked aloud, as if he couldn't help himself. Perry can feel his heartbeat, thumping a million miles per hour from beneath his palm pressed into Heinz's chest.

Perry's heart rockets into his throat, and he shakes his head, as subtly as he could. Equally impulsively, Heinz's eyes darts to the space above his head-on his hat-but it was only for a second. Brief enough to overlook. Heinz twists his lower body, and Perry's vaulted a couple of feet away from the force of the kick into his abdomen.

"Target identified."

Shit.

Sure enough, when Perry turns to see, the nozzle of the Voiceless-Inator had begun to glow an ominous red, prepped and locked onto the podium where Roger would be presenting his early manifesto for the next Trimester Mayoral Election. Heinz had begun to cackle, an early celebration for what he's probably thought of as an easy win, but it isn't the first time Perry's had to make do with luck in the nick of time.

Perry rifles through his hat, fingers trailing over the seamless pockets stitched between the silk layers from within its crown. He rolls onto his feet, trusting his instincts to land him on what he needs from his trusty box of tools, and as the countdown nears its end, Perry tugs out a three piece compact mirror, poised right ahead of it's unnatural chemical beam.

"NO! WAIT! REDIRECTING THE CHARGE IS GOING TO MAKE IT-!"

BOOM!

Perry can feel his ears ringing from the volume of the ensuing explosion, and he feels himself thrown off by the force of compressed energy, saved by the familiar grip of an arm, hanging him over the balcony walls.

Perry coughs, spitting up black phlegm as Heinz grunts and yells and swears, pulling his weight up and over into the safety of the sooted foyer. The neighbours don't look twice anymore, and the residents beneath had smartly cleared away from any potential debris within the last few minutes.

Life in Danville will soon continue apace. For now, there is an unnatural silence as two men lay on their backs, heavily panting black smoke and the burnt smell of gasoline.

In the very distance, there is a joyous cry to mark the end of another successful manifesto with everyone's voices perfectly present. Only just marking the presence of a droning speech up until that very moment. There is more grunting, the heavy sound of steel elbows on hard tiles, before Perry finds himself looking up into a pair of concerned baby blue eyes, a narrow face and much beloved crooked aquiline nose.

Heinz looks him up and down, and Perry sees the relief that courses through him as he'd apparently found whatever he was looking for.

"There you are." He says, in a single breath, and Perry briefly closes his eyes as Heinz leans down, knocking their foreheads together so they could share breaths, heated and soot-stained. "Curse you, Perry the Platypus."

Heinz trails the tip of his nose down the line of his cheek, and Perry swallows so loudly that Heinz freezes, acknowledging the tension still present in his shoulders. Perry presses his hand into Heinz's chest, poised above his own. Allegedly to push him away, but he finds his hands clasped again right over where his heart should be, beating the rhythm of his favourite tune.

"It's gone." Heinz whispers, right into his ear. It tickles the hairs right above the back of his nape, and Perry shivers. "The explosion blew it off of the balcony, we're alone. It's alright."

His hat, gone, yes. He notices it now, the stark emptiness where the warmth of his fedora should be, and with it, OWCA's equivalent of a body cam.

This moment was their own. Finally, their own.

Perry inhales sharply, lips brushing against the smooth skin of Heinz's jaw. He shakes his head firmly, trembling.

"No?" Heinz asked.

"Almost-," Perry says softly, voice raspy from the soot and disuse. He cuts himself off, tries again. "He's...onto us. Heinz."

"Francis?" Heinz demanded, his own voice thick with incredulity. Further emphasizes as he leans higher, putting real space between them to express the sheer disbelief on his face, but when Perry whines from the cold of the sudden distance, he leans back down quickly, planting a quick kiss on Perry's chin that disorients him as efficiently as a punch.

"It's Carl." Perry corrects, and the confusion clears out in an instant. The agent clears his throat, preparing himself for a different sort of argument. "Heinz." Perry chides, as well as he could in state as dazed and lovesick as he was. The other man began to trail sweet little pecks over the length of his jaw, down the bowl of his collar, and back up the bridge of his nose. "Heinz. Listen. I-I think we have to-,"

Stop, Perry wants to say. Stop, stop, stop, but he captures Perry's lips in his own, his mouth wet, deep and hungry-and the noise that falls out of him is better akin to more, more, more.

"Heinz," Perry says, an ineffectual scolding between every intake of breath. As he pulls Perry's tongue into his own mouth, sucking, Perry feels his hips jolt involuntarily, one leg crossed behind the other man's back. "God, Heinz,"

"Gott, but you're feeling clingy." He answers, his voice making it sound like a compliment . Perry feels his hands, dexterous and desperate, pulling down the zipper right there on the balcony floor, in front of every neighbour and God himself, at three forty fucking five in the evening. He palms the straining tent peeking out the front of his trousers, and Perry chokes on his own breath. He knocks the back of his temple into the floor, gasping.

It was bold, mortifyingly so, particularly in the daring light of the evident scandal. A forbidden fruit Perry should have never let himself sample all those months ago, and now he had no way of turning back.

"I've got you, mausebär." Heins assures, leaving black smudges on his shirt, all the way down. Perry stuffs his fist in his mouth, body burning hot with anticipation. "Hold on to me. Good boy."

Perry turns his gaze to the sky, relishes the brush of his air against his hair-bare and damning--and reminds himself that Eve had never regretted her mouthful, not even once.

#perryshmirtz #phineas and ferb #heinz doofenshmirtz #choice of fic #human perry #perry the platypus #choice of asks

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