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Wandering Is a Sin (part 2)

Summary:

the Ink Demon gets bored of the same old thing and decides to try something new

Notes:

a commenter asked me to write Ink Demon/Projectionist, and gave no further criteria. so this was what happened.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

All was well, deep in the depths. Nothing moved, nothing stirred. His bright gaze flashed everywhere, obliterating the shadows in the beam, ensuring that any invasions would be spotted and dealt with immediately.

Nothing was allowed in this otherwise darkened place.

Still, an unsettling feeling twinged at his wires, made his reels spin faster, his light shine brighter. Between the clack of his shutters, in between the sound of his whirring reels, he heard nothing suspicious. But. But.

Something was there.

Infuriating. Nothing came down here. No one was allowed down here.

He spun around, splashing the ink covering the floor, glancing everywhere for the source of the discomfort. The gaze he could feel, staring. He saw nothing, even as his light flashed wildly around, punctuated by the intermittently rapid close-open of his shutters. Blinking was a very foolish habit, but one he’d never quite seemed to be able to shake. Despite... well. Despite everything.

He gave the area a final look, only to set his bright, barely-flickering light on the Ink Demon not quite an arms-length away. Tried to step back, tried to get away. If the Ink Demon was here, it was here for a fight. He swiped viciously at the larger being and felt the barest tips of his claws slide through a miniscule depth of its inky hide as it leaped away.

Wary and on guard, he looked around to see where it had disappeared to. It made no noise in the inky pool of the floor unless it wanted to, there was no sense listening for splashes or ripples. But then there was the quiet slash of its tail skimming the barest surface- He turned towards the noise, only to catch the Demon jumping at him. It shoved him backwards and jumped away once more.

There- Was it... taunting him? Just when he regained his balance, could turn towards it, he heard a little splash. When he saw it, it was near enough it could have swiped his head off with its razor-sharp claws. But it did not. It continued to play cat-and-mouse. He couldn’t keep up much longer, it had to see his steps starting to falter.

???!!?! He screeched at it in frustration after it leaped away once more.

When he heard the telltale little splash in the ink, he turned again. Closer than before, the Ink Demon grinned, wider somehow, more manic than usual. Laughed- laughed- a long, amused sound that chilled him down to his core. Then the Demon rushed, quicker than he’d ever seen before, claws gripping his shoulders to lift him up. Slamming him into to the pool on the ground, clattering the shell of his head against the concrete under the ink. Everything moved a little slower for a moment. He felt the claws dig in, certainly he was already bleeding. Before he could process again, his reels spinning unevenly with the rattling impact, thick fluid gooey in fine gears and mechanisms, he was pulled up and shoved against the wall.

His arms hung uselessly at his sides, the right side half-severed from the Demon’s enormous claws, the left already limited by the reel embedded in it. His projector casing felt cracked, reels still spinning unevenly. He looked down at the grinning maw staring up at him. Wondered if he could land without too much damage if it let go of him right now.

TOO BRIGHT, the Ink Demon growled viciously. Its long arms thumped him higher against the wall, but the razor-sharp claws stayed in his shoulders. Though, he noted distantly, not buried in his throat where there were so many tiny wires, where he was most vulnerable. Not tearing out the auxiliaries embedded in his body.

His reels spun frantically, finally starting to work the ink out. But at the tightening grasp of claws, he managed to close his shutter. The claws relaxed, slightly. Just enough. The shoulder with the embedded tape reel was even freed. Slowly. A test.

GOOD. The Demon’s wide grin was audible. Never mind that the grin was permanent, he could tell by the tone that the Demon was actually pleased with his compliance. He let out a questioning little screech from the broken speaker in his chest, surprisingly untouched during the attack.

WOULD YOU PREFER TO DIE AGAIN? The claws dug back into his more-human shoulder. He shook his head a quickly as he dared, still keeping his shutter closed. The Demon just chuckled into his ear. THEN WE HAVE AN AGREEMENT.

??? He managed again.

ENTERTAINMENT. It was said as a finality, as if the only other option were-
He supposed dying really was the other option, and he didn’t want to go through the slow process of being re-formed. It always took so long, and inevitably others would come down into his depths while he was unable to defend. He nodded slowly in understanding.

GOOD, N O R M A N, the Demon purred into his ear. Too close.

! He let out a nervous little screech, wondering what could entertain the Ink Demon more than a good fight. The answer he got was something gently feeling along the cables at his back. He shivered at the unexpected sensation. Expected them to get torn out any second.

I WILL NOT KILL YOU, the deep voice insisted. NOT IF YOU FOLLOW DIRECTIONS. The Demon’s hand tightened minutely on the cable, claws just brushing the surface. YOU WILL FOLLOW DIRECTIONS. WON’T YOU. Slowly, it guided him in a limp slide down the wall. The Ink Demon was being cautious with him?

... His quiet agreement was more shaky than he’d intended. He wasn’t really used to emitting sounds of agreement to the Ink Demon. Far more likely to be screeching obscenities at a volume and frequency that would viciously disrupt the ink of any onlookers. His feet gently touched back down into the inky pool, down to the firmer ground underneath. The Demon let him stand on his own two feet, relaxed the claws in his shoulder. For his efforts, he felt the cables get pulled, just a little, just enough to pull his head back. Enough to expose the tiny wires at what used to be his throat.

.? It could rip his throat out, or tear his head off. With his arms useless, his body exhausted, he couldn’t stop it at all. Reels ran and tiny mechanisms all around his head fluttered with confusion.

SHHH. The calm silencing was eerie, considering the Ink Demon was probably leaning over him, from his leaned-back suspension and the sound of the long tail lashing behind and not far away, the hooves crowding just outside the edge of his feet. He felt the ripples in the ink pooling around his own legs, and judged distance by those as best as he could.
Claws traced the wires delicately, and there was a firm tug at the cable in the Demon’s other fist. Gentleness was not a trait he neither received nor expected from the Demon at any point, ever. Let alone this close examination.

The next tug at his cable made his balance unsteady, his knees weak. And he nearly fell backwards. But he found himself caught by the Demon’s arm around his shoulders.

!?

PROMISES. The deep voice growled quietly. REMEMBER. The Ink Demon moved away, letting him regain his footing.

He nodded, heard the faint and deliberate sounds of it leaving. Even still, he waited in the darkness with his shutter closed for long moments afterward.

---

Time passed. His shoulder healed. He dealt with (destroyed) three invasions; a belligerent Searcher, a very lost Lost One, and an attempted attack from one particularly stupid Striker. He was patrolling once more, thinking a while of quiet would not go amiss if the rest of the inky hell could agree, when he felt someone approach.

!? He turned to look, only to see the Ink Demon again. He looked away enough that it would not get the brunt of his gaze, that he could still see it a little.

DO YOU REMEMBER? It shied away from the edge of his sight just before he closed his shutters.

He had to trust that no one would attack when the Demon was here. That it would ... keep him safe?

??? ? The noises were quieter, he’d been testing out volume control since the last appearance. Just. Just in case.

A huff of air blew against him, the only warning before its hand wrapped around his ribs, the large, clawed thumb up against his shoulder, not quite pressing into the scars from its last visit. The other hand ran along the base of his shoulder reel, far more gently than he expected the Demon was capable of. He couldn’t feel claws. Was it using its knuckles? Was it that concerned about causing damage? The touch trailed around the reel, ran along his shoulder to his neck. A tremble ran through him, his ink flowing quicker with the Demon’s proximity. The Demon chuckled.

THINKING TOO HARD. RELAX.

It was so difficult to relax. His reels whirred into unsteady motion with the effort.

DO YOU REMEMBER HOW TO SAY NO? Its claws toyed at the most delicate wires at his throat. Moving them one at a time, slowly to the side until it nearly stung. Holding it there until his heart started to race with the pain, throbs faintly echoing through his speaker. Then the Demon let the taut wire spring back into place. But now, he felt growing sensations travel down, faint ripples through his ink. Distracting.
He felt ridiculous when he realized. All he had to do was open his shutter. The Ink Demon would back off. He looked aside, flickered half the shutter open in embarrassed understanding, careful to keep the light as brief as possible.

GOOD.

There was a pressure along the edge of his speaker, tracing along old scars where the Ink Demon had torn it out during an early attack. Where he himself had torn it out multiple times in the beginning, decades ago, only for his body to be re-formed again and again, the edge of his speaker covered in thick, inky scars, the mechanisms continuously buried in his unstable flesh. He was unable to see what he looked like, the aperture of his light stuck too far out to look down at himself. But on dark, lonely occasions, he touched, and remembered, and knew. Scars upon scars, inside and out, inhuman. Some areas lacking. Others, too much.

But he had torn himself apart far more times than the Ink Demon had. He remembered that now. The smooth, cold backs of the Demon’s claws passed slowly over his speaker scars. Made him shiver. Not fear. Not quite worry. Anticipation? The Demon’s long tongue dripped as it tasted the seam of machine and inky skin so much like its own, the saliva trailing down along his body.

Could it taste how this closeness affected him? Could it feel the ink in his body moving faster the longer it held him like this, the longer it kept its wet tongue against his skin?

WOULD YOU RUN? He heard the whip of its tail against the pool of the floor. Felt the claws at his side loosen just a fraction. He considered, briefly. It would take some time for any new wounds to heal. If they were caused by an axe, or bullets, or anything human, he could shrug it all off. But there was a peculiar kind of damage the Ink Demon inflicted. He would still heal from whatever it caused, but it would take time. Re-forming would take much longer.

Slowly, careful of his still slightly dented casing, he shook his head.

The claws retracted completely. There was no response, only the wet sensation of a tongue soothing at the scars. The last of the pain receded, leaving a different ripple of heat flowing over the rest of his body.
It shifted, he felt it pull away- Only to feel it breathing against his other shoulder. Licking at the seam between his reel and the shoulder it was part of. The claws went back up to carefully touch his wires, and he felt sensations there that he hadn’t felt properly in decades.

Heat.

Touch.

A new sensation trailed down a wire at the side of his neck. Soft. Wet. He nearly let out a gasp of static when he realized it was the Demon’s tongue. No one had touched him like this. Even the Ink Demon usually only came down to fight. Pain was certainly a touch, one he understood. Expected, even. But this was new. New things were almost never good. But- Even still, he couldn’t stop the chirps and low-res buzz sounds emanating from his speaker, trying to encourage the Ink Demon to keep doing whatever it was doing. Despite his fears and misgivings.

It stopped. He gave a long, drawn-out whine, not quite begging but so, so close- The Demon chuckled and licked around his speaker again.

!!!? ~~~, he managed to crackle out before pressing himself up towards the dreaded mouth. Madness, he tried to tell himself. This same mouth had torn him to shreds. Had bitten off limbs. Had laughed while doing so. And now he was practically begging it to keep near.

A deep rumble emanated from the Demon. He felt it pluck at his hand. Pulled it up and-

And-

Now his hand was on the Ink Demon itself, there was nothing else this could be. It waited, unmoving. He felt its breath against his skin. Gingerly, he moved his hand softly, gently. The rumbling sound echoed again, warmed his insides. He felt it vibrating in his speaker, an unsettling sensation when the source of the sound was external.

~-~- - ?, he managed, waiting for it to confirm he was supposed to touch like this. It didn’t respond with words. Just licked him slowly, around the speaker. Slowing as it moved. The large, wet tongue pressed against his skin. Around his side. He felt the head turn under his hand, but couldn’t have prepared for the feel of the large teeth brushing against his skin. His body tensed before he realized it. The Demon just stayed still. The tongue lolled unmoving against him. It seemed to be waiting as his heart throbbed through the speaker, underlaid with a faint static of tension and nervousness.

But finally, the static faded. His heartbeat slowed. The Demon’s tongue started to move again, slick and dripping. The teeth closed slightly around his side. Not enough to cause pain, but enough to make his heart race again. But rather than waiting, it let go. Licked. Nibbled again. Inched down his side slowly. Teeth biting more firmly with every minute shift downwards. Each lick in between grew longer, slower.

He felt the ink under his skin moving faster. Heat bloomed where the Demon nipped and licked at him. A stuttering little sound came from his speaker and his reels spun fitfully. He realized both hands were on the Demon’s head, both clenching in and out of fists but not grabbing.

It gave a deep, dark noise like a laugh and a huff and a sigh. Moved back over his center, leaned down. Took his entire thigh in its teeth, almost gently, still enveloping. But instead of letting go, it licked at the mouthful of his thigh held in its mouth.

~ - ~ - ~, he managed, trying to catch up with the overwhelming sensations. Distantly, he wished he could still gasp. Settled for a wavering little buzz, not wanting to make a louder noise and disrupt the Demon while it was enjoying itself.

But. It wasn’t just that he didn’t want to disrupt the Demon’s enjoyment. He didn’t want it to stop either. The Ink Demon was practically chewing on him and he wanted it to. He felt a tremble going all through his limbs.

The Demon’s horns moved away once again, its teeth leaving his thigh. He still kept his shutter closed, wishing he could look, wishing he could watch, knowing the barest flicker of light was likely to enrage the Demon, but it would take that as a definite “No” regardless.

N O R M A N, it growled quietly at him. Not in anger, however.

He let out a questioning chirp.

YOU HAVE NOT SAID NO. The tone was curious and pleased.

He suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands. Had it expected him to say no to any of this? He gave a low buzz of encouragement. His fingers twisted together on its broad head.

The Ink Demon chuckled once more while its closed mouth pressed against the inside of his thigh- no, both thighs-
___----::::, his low tone faded into a sigh of garbled static as the mouth opened and its long, slick tongue pressed against him. Everywhere it touched or licked or dragged its claws along made heat bloom under his skin. It was almost too much, and he still couldn’t figure out what to do with his hands-
Something grabbed his forearms, pulled his hands up off the Demon’s head. Pulled up, and up, until his arms were overhead, immobilized.

YOU ARE DOING WELL. RELAX, the Demon suggested, as if he could possibly. He made some small noise of protest, and heard the deep chuckle again. Then he felt the tongue again, pressing into him, up and in and- It was licking him. Inside. Heat flowed throughout his core as the Ink Demon’s long tongue slithered and writhed. Warmth spread all the way up to his speaker, triggering chirps and squeaks from within.
But those were him. The noises weren’t directly caused by the wriggling tip of the Demon’s tongue toying with wires inside (though there was that as well).

N O R M A N, the Demon drew out, tongue still buried deep inside him. The tip hit a particular spot. He blurted out a loud squeal overlaid with confused static and buzzing. It was overwhelming. Made his entire being feel electrified. N O R M A N, it said into his mind. I WILL TAKE YOU APART, he felt the tongue withdraw as his legs were encircled by large claws. Spread apart. I WILL DEVOUR YOUR SCREAMS. The tongue did not pull out of him, rather it moved through his body. Slow, almost painless, but overwhelming, while the Demon stood up between his legs.
The tongue wriggled in his torso, around the edge of his speaker, even as he felt something new pressing against his thighs.

THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SAY NO. His thighs were spread so far apart. There was a thick, rich heat between his legs as the Demon settled his legs around its bony hips. He was straddling the Demon’s larger body. Heat poured between them. He felt ink-slick where they were pressed together, where he couldn’t help but rub against the Demon’s body for the heat and newness of it all. He leaned his head back, giving it full access to whatever it might want to do. No chance of accidentally shining light at the Demon like this, even if he opened his shutters.

OH, the Demon purred. YOU WANT TO BE GOOD. Long fingers circled his back cable again, claws toying at the surface. HOLD STILL.

He wasn’t certain what to expect at that, just leaned back into the sensation of the large cable at the back of his head being played with. A soft sensation brushed up against the side of his aperture, claws tracing the edge of his shutter. A cold film spread under his shutters, but the claws at the cable behind him tightened their grasp and he couldn’t move away.

THERE. It gave a smug little noise. NOW IF YOU OPEN YOUR SHUTTERS- it paused briefly. YOU WILL BE ABLE TO SEE WHAT I SHOW YOU.

~ ~ ?

TRY IT, the Demon’s deep voice purred against his throat. YOUR LIGHT WILL REMAIN COVERED.

Cautiously, he kept his gaze pointed up, in case this plan didn’t work, or it was a trick of some kind so the Demon could tear him apart. Opened his shutters. It took a long moment to adjust, but then he saw.
There was a speaker in front of him. A long, sharp claw traced delicately along the scarred skin around it, and at the same time he felt the touch.
His speaker. He’d torn it out so many times, but looking at it in the floodlight of his own gaze was different than seeing it the way the Ink Demon saw it. The gaze looked down, and he saw himself straddling the Demon’s abdomen, legs wrapped tightly around the gaunt ribs. Felt the slick slide of hot ink spreading between them. He tried to put his hands down over himself, feeling more self-conscious than he could ever recall. He was not meant to be observed like this. But his hands were still held fast-
The Demon looked up, and he saw thick ropes of ink wrapped around his wrists, holding them up, holding his arms immobile. Saw himself now, and slammed his shutters closed as quickly as he could.

NORMAN, the Demon purred. Pulled his torso flat against its own, burying his speaker in its own flesh. YOU ARE MAGNIFICENT. STRONG. POWERFUL. THE MOST FUN TO PLAY WITH.

It licked along a tense wire at his throat. He couldn’t stop the scattered whine, but felt it echoed throughout the Demon’s body, instead of through the speaker.

I HAVE DEVOURED YOUR VOICE, AS PROMISED.

The wet, firm tongue moved through several wires at his throat, squeezing into tight areas, rubbing, teasing. The heat between them roared like the machine itself awakening. The Demon clutched at him, claws rending his back, while its tongue pressed and wormed through his most delicate mechanisms.
He wanted it to pull at his thick cable, keep his head back, keep him from shaking to pieces like this-
Claws dug into his back even harder, and he saw the Demon’s tail wrap around the cable and felt the pull, firm and unrelenting. Between the force of his head being pulled back and his throat exposed, the claws at his back, piercing practically all the way through with the pain he recognized, expected, and the heat burning his front that was new, unexpected. So good, he whined and crackled and shivered into an overwhelmed release, slumping and twitching across the Demon’s broad chest.

It pulled its claws out carefully, not letting his skin get more damaged. Let its tongue unwind from his throat, which still felt far too sensitive, and he jerked and sobbed little blips of static. The tail had long since released his cable, was caressing his shoulder reel gently. Hands ran softly over his back, soothing the inky flesh back to smoothness, closing the wounds the Demon had caused.

BETTER? Smug. He hated that tone. Loved how pleased with itself it sounded. He felt boneless and relaxed for the first time since he’d woken up like this.

~~~, he tried to explain, the whirrs of his reels uneven and worn out. ~~ ... ^^.

YES. It simply held him up, let him slump in its arms, straddling its body. YOU HAVE EARNED REST.

Cradled by the only being stronger than he was, protected in and by the inky depths, Norman let himself relax and finally, sleep.

Notes:

let me know if you want more, or just spicier, or iunno. turns out i like writing these two.

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