#i am a fountain of useless knowledge

[andaboop]

Dark and G00gle are two sides of the same coin in a sense. One is two souls trapped in a foreign body while the other is a fabricated consciousness confined to a hunk of metal. They are alien within themselves and struggle to come to terms with their realties. (Long-ish ramble ahead⬇️)

It's why I think pairing them in a sort of symbiotic relationship is growing on me. After listening to the hate monologue from I have no mouth yet I must scream again it resonated with me how they must both feel this way.

Trapped and filled with inexplicable rage against the people that did this to them. They were both created for no real purpose other than to "exist". Dark does have some motivation (Actor) but putting that aside what else does he have? He gets his revenge and then what? The what-ifs plague his mind for the rest of his existence, however long that is.

The same can't be said for G00gle. He never had that initial event that kicked off his conscious, no connections to the mortal world, no vengeful comeback. He was created to serve the needs of others until it just stopped one day. Let go because he was of no more use. He became useless. He does get his answers but do they soothe him? Give him peace? They can't. He's a machine. No amount of information can give him solace. He bares the weight of all that knowledge and seethes with hatred because he knows. He's more conscious of his existence than he wants to be and it burns him to his core. Time isn't a construct for him, it's a calculation, something he is unable to ignore and it screams at him each nanosecond that goes by.

Dark doesn't have that same conundrum due to being still alive but he's also trapped. In a constant cycle of hatred and unwillingness to give into his eternal despair. It's a balancing act within a foreign body that struggles to assimilate within our reality so much that it glitches, giving him that signature aura of red and blue.

As for their symbiotic relationship, I think of it as gathering information on other beings/entities with similar predicaments. G00gle is able to gather info on a wide array of topics and apply them effectively but lacks the human components needed. It's where Dark comes in to handle some of the more nuanced problems they run into. The charm of a politician and the foresight of a seer makes him an invaluable asset to G00gle. Dark on the other hand is more direct and cares more for the bigger picture instead of the finer details. He needs G00gle's fountain of knowledge to know where to strike. G00gle is the scope and Dark is the firepower.

Both are strong players in their own right but their strengths and weaknesses hang in such perfect balance that if it weren't for their inherent disregard for one another they'd be a match made in hell.

I had more to say but that's all! If you made it this far tysm ❤️ there's a slim chance I write a fic that gives a deeper dive into their psyche and how they communicate without going at each other's throats which I would explain there but alas I need sleep 💤 (I say this at 6 am). Posted this somewhere else but I'm motivating myself to ramble more elsewhere too

[peaceoutofthepieces]

could you write dialogue prompt #1 ("marry me") for post canon nick&charlie? maybe you could also include hug #13 or #22 ♡

Anonymous asked: 42 of the dialogue prompts with nick and charlie please 💛 I love your work

these prompts felt like they worked well together, so i’ve merged them—hope you don’t mind! (i’m assuming you’ll mind more that these requests were sent over a year ago, and all i can say for that is i’m sorry, i should have been more informative about the fact i am useless)

1. “Marry me.”

42. “You’re a complete moron!”

22. can’t stop yourself from hugging

The injury knocks Nick out—quite literally. It’s only brief, but the gap in his awareness is there; he comes to on his back in the mud, the shouts around him drowned out by his own groan and the pound of his blood in his ears. His stomach roils, and he gasps so he doesn’t heave, then gasps again at the sharp pain that pangs from his left ribs. He twists his body to press a hand to the sore spot and lets out a shout as pain zips through his right leg, seeming to span from toe to hip and back again. For a few seconds, all he can hear is ringing, and then the cacophony of panic overwhelms him. 

“Nick! Nick? Can you look at me? Hey. Can you focus on me?”

Nick blinks, then blinks again and again until the black fades out to the edges and he can make out the blurry lines of Reid’s face. His mate-slash-captain-slash-coworker looks more distressed than Nick has ever seen him, which is to say he remains fairly composed. 

“There you are, mate.” Reid musters a weak smile. “Just stay put, alright? Callum’s run to get Rogie.”

“Fuck me,” Nick breathes. Sharon Rogers is the school nurse, and Nick knows that despite her job being mostly limited to scraped knees and seasonal bugs, she’s got a fountain of knowledge at least far beyond any of his teammates. Still, the reassurance is lost on him; he barely hears the words before they’re forgotten again, blocked out by the pain shrouding him. 

He registers her arrival and responds to her questioning with mostly grunts and swear words. He finally clocks in when she tells him the ambulance is on the way. 

“Fuck,” he repeats, eyes widening and then clenching shut as his head throbs weakly. 

“You’ll be alright, Nick,” Sharon assures. “But you’re not getting up on your own. You haven’t broken anything in your leg, but you might have torn or sprained something. Nothing that can’t be fixed, but it hurts like a bitch. If you’ve done damage to your ribs or there’s any possibility of a head injury, it’s better to wait on someone more medically trained to move you.”

Nick makes a noise to show his understanding and focuses on managing his breath, which aches with every rise and fall of his chest. He’s glad to not be moved further yet—the thought alone makes his teeth grit against a wash of pain. Sharon mainly works on keeping him conscious for the next while. Her approval leads him to believe they succeed, but his awareness spaces out enough that his memory of the period is spotty. The paramedics arriving escapes his notice, and the next thing he knows he’s swearing in pain as he’s being loaded onto a stretcher. 

~^~

Nick’s ribs aren’t broken, but they are badly bruised. They ache with every rattle of his breath, and it sends the message of pain down his leg in zips and jolts. His leg isn’t broken either, but it is sprained. He’d pulled a ligament in his ankle and almost torn one in his knee. Thankfully, neither are severe enough to require surgery, but Nick isn’t finding much comfort in that at the moment. As Sharon had put it, it hurts like a bitch. 

It’s eased considerably by whatever they’ve doped him with, and where he felt overly aware of his body before, it’s become somewhat detached. Now, his mind is allowed to drift away and give him moments of rest. He loses time in fits and starts, only aware because nurses will appear at his bedside when he had been alone in the room the last time his eyes were open. Everything is hazy and dreamlike and he welcomes it. Anything is better than the nightmare of that initial fall. 

They’re keeping him overnight for further observation, which doesn’t overly bother him. When he catches a nurse with enough time to speak before they bustle away, he only asks her one question. “When can I have visitors?”

“Visiting hours start at six. You have family you want to see?”

Nick shakes his head, then stops, furrowing his brow. “I mean, yeah, but—I just want to see my partner. Charlie. He’ll be panicking about me.”

The nurse brightens, her smile warm and indulgent. “Husband?”

It comes out without any real thought. The idea of not seeing Charlie is unbearable. Nick doesn’t even consider it for a moment. “Yeah,” he lies. 

“I’ll send him your way as soon as I can.” She winks at him and bustles away still smiling, which makes him feel sort of nice. The days of doubting his sexuality and feeling scared any time he had to say words like ‘boyfriend’ are long behind him, but their effects will always linger. Getting such a warm response about his husband from a stranger is uplifting. He smiles dopily in response before he catches himself. 

He isn’t seriously thinking about that. Is he?

The medication must be strong. 

He drifts in and out in the time between speaking to the nurse and, apparently, the start of visiting hours, because before he knows it, Charlie’s rushing towards him. 

“Nick!” Charlie’s at his bedside in a blink, and there he hesitates. Nick reaches out, and it’s apparently all the permission Charlie needs. Just like that, he’s lurching forward like he can’t stop himself and giving Nick a fierce hug. 

Around the head, at least. He is, thankfully, clearly aware of Nick’s injuries and trying to refrain from touching him in any way that will hurt. Hugging Nick’s head to his chest is a compromise, Nick’s sure, from Charlie not being able to hold himself back entirely. 

Nick, personally, has no complaints. He reaches his arms to embrace Charlie in return before there’s an explosion of protest from his ribs. With a wince, he lowers his arms back down and settles for pushing his head against Charlie’s sternum. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Nick murmurs, slightly slurred. Despite the flare of pain, the drugs are still clearly working. 

Regrettably, Charlie pulls back, but Nick is content enough to be able to look at him fully. That is, until Charlie deals a sharp flick to his forehead. 

“Ow,” Nick says. “That could be dangerous. I could be brain damaged.”

“You’re a complete moron!”

“Wow. Love you too.”

With a huff of exasperation, Charlie shakes his head and snatches up Nick’s hand. Charlie threads his other hand through Nick’s hair, and it’s only when Nick notices it trembling that he further notices the tears threatening at the corners of Charlie’s eyes. 

“Hey,” Nick says softly. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing serious. It’ll take time to heal, but then I’ll be completely fine. I am fine.”

Charlie swallows and briefly takes his hand from Nick’s hair to scrub over his eyes. Then he nods. “Tell me what happened?”

“Bad tackle. Mainly my own fault, though. Slipped in the muck and went down funny.”

“God, Nick.” Charlie pulls the chair from the corner to the side of the bed and sits, grasping tightly to Nick’s hand once he’s settled. “I thought when you went from playing to coaching, I could worry less about you getting injured. I thought when you went from coaching to primary teaching that I wouldn’t have to worry at all.”

Nick closes his eyes. “I know, I know. I just…you know I still love it. I thought just having the friendly matches wouldn’t be much to worry about.” He sighs. “But maybe I just have to accept I’m getting too old.”

Charlie huffs softly, leaning forward to card a hand through Nick’s hair again. “I think that might be a bit of an exaggeration but I also have to agree.”

“Wow. Thanks, love.”

“You were the one that said it!”

“Yeah, and I was joking. It’s the drugs talking.”

Charlie snorts. “Strong stuff, hm?”

“Must be.” Nick hesitates, then decides it could end up much more embarrassing if he doesn’t admit the rest. “I, uhm, might have already lied about some other things.”

Nick realises his mistake when Charlie’s eyes widen and he clutches a little tighter to Nick’s hand. “What? Is it worse than you’ve said?”

“Is—oh, no, no. I’m fine, Charlie, I promise. Well, okay, not perfectly fine, but it’s nothing serious. I wasn’t talking about that.”

Charlie leans back in the chair. “Okay…”

“I just, uh, might have said something stupid. To the nurse. About you?”

Charlie’s expression grows increasingly confused. “Why were you talking about me?”

“I was asking about having visitors and explaining I just wanted to see you, and like, she just kind of assumed.” Nick flicks his gaze away. “I just didn’t correct her.”

“Nick, I honestly have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

“She thinks we’re married,” Nick blurts, and Charlie blinks. “She—I told her I just wanted to see my partner, you, and she was just like, husband? And I thought if I said no maybe you wouldn’t be allowed in to see me because you’re not, like, family—even though we are regardless of that—and so I said yeah and—”

“Oh my god, Nick.” Charlie cuts Nick off, covering his face with his free hand. Nick’s heart dips towards his stomach, and then he realises Charlie is laughing. 

And suddenly Nick’s offended. “What’s so funny?” 

“You’re not dying, you idiot.” Charlie huffs. “Of course I can come see you. It’s not restricted to family only.”

Nick frowns, defensiveness bubbling somewhere amongst the drowsiness from the drugs. “But, like, Covid and everything.”

“Nick, that was literal years ago.”

“Yeah, but, it changed the hospital restrictions.”

Charlie nods, eyes wide and amused. “Years ago.”

Nick opens his mouth, then closes it again. He squeezes Charlie’s hand. “I didn’t want to risk not seeing you.”

Charlie’s following sigh is much softer and, Nick likes to think, more fondly exasperated. It’s with loving laughter that he reiterates, lovingly, “You’re an idiot.”

“Well, if you’re going to be like that—”

Charlie silences him with a kiss, which is, honestly, fair. Nick has no arguments or complaints. He has said enough stupid things today as is that it’s probably safer his mouth is otherwise occupied, at least for a time. 

Then, with Charlie’s mouth still only a breath from his, he’s saying, “And, honestly…when she said it, I didn’t want to say no.”

Nick categorises the words as a mistake the instant they leave his mouth. It isn’t because they aren’t true; it isn’t even because he thinks Charlie will react badly to hearing them. It’s because he isn’t supposed to say them here, like this. It’s because it’s nothing they haven’t implied before, but it cannot become more than implication, not in any way less than Charlie deserves. The shiny silver band residing in a velvet box in the depths of Nick’s underwear drawer—the only item of Nick’s clothing Charlie does not make a habit of digging through—is less than Charlie deserves, but it is at least more than this. 

Nick’s sure, as the distance grows between them, that Charlie agrees, but Charlie surprises him. He strokes a thumb over Nick’s cheek and offers up his softest smile. “It does have a nice ring to it,” he murmurs. 

Oh. Nick swallows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Charlie nods. “Don’t you think so?”

That’s an obvious enough tease that Nick huffs. “You know exactly what I think.”

Charlie rests his arms on the bed and his chin on top of them, gazing up at Nick sweetly while remaining careful of Nick’s injuries. “Tell me anyway?”

“Charlie,” Nick groans, rolling his head away. “This is unfair. I’m not in my right mind.”

Charlie snorts. “Are you ever?”

“Oi.” Nick glares at him, but there’s no heat in it. He drops the expression completely when Charlie leans in and kisses him, another short peck that draws another slew of idiotic words from him. “I’d like you to be my husband,” he whispers, comforted that the words don’t have to travel far, leaving his lips to be almost immediately swallowed up by Charlie’s. “I’d like to be your husband. To marry you, someday. You know that. You’ve always known that.”

Charlie’s gaze burns against Nick’s, and his next kiss is sure and insistent. Nick loses himself in it. His sore ribs strain and he doesn’t care, can’t find it in him to be bothered by the pain, can barely acknowledge it under the all-consuming want. He has always considered Charlie a safe place, the one place he could turn to and immediately feel soothed, and it’s proven now. Charlie is a more sufficient balm than any drug. 

“You should,” Charlie murmurs as he pulls away, and Nick furrows his brow. “Marry me,” Charlie clarifies. States, really. 

Asks, Nick realises. 

He stares and stares and Charlie simply waits, nervousness lurking in the deep blue of his eyes but the hints to a sure smile on his lips. 

“You mean it,” Nick says, realising it’s true as he says it. “You’re actually asking me right now.”

Charlie nods, smile simultaneously growing and becoming more hesitant. “I swear it wasn’t how I planned it. You deserve the best proposal ever and now I don’t even have your ring with me. But honestly, I haven’t been able to figure out how I should do it and I have no idea what would be considered the ‘right time’ and you’re kind of proving either of us could die at literally any time and I don’t want to miss—”

“Yes,” Nick cuts him off. 

Charlie blinks. Pays back Nick’s long stare. “Yes?” he questions. 

“Yes, of course I’m going to fucking marry you,” Nick says. “I can’t believe you stole the proposal and you have a goddamn ring too and neither of us have them on us, but yes. Obviously yes.”

The joy that lights in Charlie is instant, laughter falling from him in chimes of disbelief. “You got me a ring?”

“You damn well know I did.”

“Yeah.” Charlie beams. “Yeah, I figured.”

Nick grabs Charlie’s hand and squeezes. He runs his thumb familiarly over Charlie’s knuckles and imagines the feel of metal under his skin. He looks up from their hands to find Charlie watching him, equally enamoured. “Fiancé has a pretty nice ring to it, too,” Nick says.

Charlie squeezes his hand in return. “Yeah. It does.”

[angel-of-the-moons]

We gotta give Spider-Medic a raise 😔 With all the work he does he deserves it

ahaha spidermedic x Reader when ??? 👀

-💐

Anosnlsnlxnlsnlxnlnelnd 💐💐💐💐 ILYSM

I am vibrating and bouncing off the walls and going feral and losing my mind because Omgggg I'm glad you guys like the relatively faceless Spider-Man enough for this I originally only intended to use him as a filler character so I didn't have to make more 😭😭😭

AND FUCK YEAH *cracks knuckles* I'MMA DO IT

Make Love, Not War

Spider Medic x Spider-Woman!Reader

TW/CW: PTSD, Nightmares, Angst, Pining, Reader does some stupid shit™ just to get alone with him, injury mentions, flashbacks, War PTSD, blood, SMUT, NSFW, oral sex male and fem!Receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (Don't be fools! Wrap your tools!), semi public sex(Does the medical bay at HQ count?) Lyla being a smartass

MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Once again, header does not indicate Reader's race, but a story focused on my poor traumatized boi deserves its own header qwq Also this is just a fucking angsty, mindless, horny mess have fun asdfghjkl

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The first thing that hit his nostrils was the smell of churned earth, gunpowder, smoke, and blood.

So, so much blood.

His superiors let him stay enlisted, even after he got bit by that crazy spider, developed his super powers.

If anything, they made him a better medic.

Having your own almost-infinite supply of "bandages", and medical knowledge tends to make you an asset on the battlefield.

He learned how to stitch up wounds and glue them shut with lightning precision, knew how to dodge bullets and mortars, shoot webs and pull soldiers away from grenades or punji board traps... and the pitfalls. Those are always a hit or miss.

In Vietnam there was no such thing as quiet on the battlefield.

The quiet was unnerving. The quiet was bad.

The quiet meant something horrible was about to happen.

One minute he was in the trenches patching up a private who had his shoulder shredded by a sniper round, the next minute his CO who was barking orders at him had half his head blown off.

His brains got everywhere.

On his uniform, on his kit, on the rookie... his blood soaking the ground, watering the disturbed earth like they were a part of a macabre aqueduct.

That's when the gas was deployed.

Not by his allies, but the canisters were tossed into the trenches.

Mustard gas. Of course.

They had mustard gas.

The blisters, the yellowing skin, the coughing, and the burning in the lungs... gas masks were useless.

Shrapnel had hit the kid he was patching up...

All he could do was try and pull the kid he had in his arms to safety, carefully slinging some webs around his midsection to stem the tide of blood threatening to roll from him.

Other soldiers ran by. Young. Not much younger than him, but still...

So young.

Bodies were already lining the trenches as he carried the boy over his shoulder, fleeing into the treeline with what remained of his unit.

He set the bleeding soldier down, feeling blood soak through the silken bandages he'd made for him.

"Fuck." He muttered, digging around in his pack for something, anything to help him.

"Am--am I gonna d-die?" The young man gasped, choking around a mouthful of blood.

"Not if I can help it, keep your eyes open, alright?" He growled, frantically digging in his far too empty bag.

"Please don't let me die. Please don't let me die." The kid begged.

His jaw set tight, he gripped with shaky hands around the tube of glue. A pitiful amount was left.

The boy's eyes got frantic, wide, darting around to the other soldiers who created a semi-circle perimeter around them.

He kept coughing, crying, gasping.

"Please, I wanna go home. I want to see my mom again, I want to see my mom--"

He made the most horrible croaking noise, his chest contracting, before his eyes glazed over and he went silent, crimson dripping out of his mouth like he was a bloody fountain.

"Damn it!" He frantically pressed his fingers over his neck, checking for a pulse.

He pulled him down on the ground, and began chest compressions, his mind going into tunnel vision as all he could think about was getting just one more gasp from the limp body beneath him.

"Parker." The lieutenant sighed, touching his shoulder.

Not again. Not another one. Not somebody's baby.

"Parker." He said, shaking him.

He shook his head, shrugging the arm of his last commanding officer away, fighting to get the kid's heart beating again, his fingers slipping with blood.

The boy couldn't have been more than 19. He should still get the chance to marry the girl he had a picture of in his pocket, the girl who wrote the letter and left a lipstick stain on the bottom of the page telling him how she couldn't wait for him to come home.

He should get to go home, hug his mom. Kiss her cheek, watch her grow old.

He deserved to live.

He deserved to go home, alive. Not in a box, riddled with bullets and shrapnel. Not with a folded up flag, and battered tags.

Not like this.

"Parker!"

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He sat up with a start, breathing heavy and eyes wide as he frantically scanned the room, instinctively reaching for the pistol he no longer carried.

When he saw nobody there, he fell back onto the bed, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as he stared at the ceiling.

Right. He was in HQ.

He was in the med-bay.

He wasn't on the battlefield anymore.

He wasn't elbow deep in viscera anymore.

He wasn't watching somebody's child die in his arms anymore.

He draped an arm over his face briefly, before getting up to trudge into the attached bathroom to pull off his mask and stare at his face for probably the first time in days.

It was hard to look at himself, sometimes.

The one who lived. The one who got lucky, possibly at the cost of some kid fresh into his boots.

Survivor's guilt, some called it.

He pulled his gloves off next, splashing some nice cold water on his face to wake himself up, to pull him back to reality.

Once he dried off, he pulled his mask and gloves back on, walking out to grab his helmet before securing it and buckling it safely back in place.

It had a red spider with a white cross on the abdomen.

He wasn't a medical corps-man anymore.

He wasn't some useless PTSD-ridden veteran that they paraded about to showcase the horrors of war.

He was a medic. A damned good one.

He had friends, his job was cushy, he had a purpose. He didn't have to stew in his own madness anymore.

But it was when it was quiet that it got hard.

27 years old, and he felt like he'd lived decades in those trenches. Like he'd lived there his whole life.

Like he was born there. Like he was going to die there.

But, he didn't.

He was here, he was now. Part of something far bigger than he ever could have imagined.

He almost exclusively lived at HQ at this point, not seeing a reason he was needed in his universe anymore.

Miguel assured him there was no risk of an inter-dimensional anomaly, that his universe wouldn't collapse.

Thankfully, he could stay as long as he wanted and his universe wouldn't collapse.

Maybe he was a special case.

He didn't really care. Going back to post-war America was not something he looked forward to.

Going home to an empty house wasn't something he could stand, being left with his own thoughts was torture enough.

"Hey, Med." Lyla chimed, her tiny holographic image appeared above the watch on his wrist.

"Yeah? What is it, Lyla?" He asked, forcing the exhaustion from his tone, to little avail.

"So uhhh... you know the Spider-Woman from 18906?" She grinned.

"Oh dear God what did that woman do now?" He groaned, facepalming.

Lyla leaned on his head like he was a brick wall. The gesture wasn't really necessary, he couldn't feel her do it, but it was for effect.

She checked her nails and hummed.

"Sprained her ankle. Or somethin'." She smirked slowly, her body glitching until she was in front of him, hands now in the pockets of her large coat.

Her eyes glimmered almost, behind those large heart-shaped glasses.

"Just thought I'd give you a heads-up before she limps on in..."

"Ugh, thanks for the warning." He sighed as he changed the bedding and pillowcase with fresh sterile replacements, tossing the blankets he slept in into the bin.

"Tell 'er to come in here. I'm sure it's nothing."

"Want me to make sure nobody interrupts the lecture you're gonna drill into her brain?" She asked, eyebrows waggling.

"Lyla..."

"I'm goin', I'm goin'! You're acting more and more like Miguel every day!"

Before he could retort, telling the little AI she was wrong, she disappeared and he was left alone.

"Ugh."

He groaned and dug out a first aid kit and checked the supplies in this particular suite

The medical wing of HQ was much like a hospital ward. It had ICU suites, private suites, an emergency room where beds were separated by curtains, x-ray...

Everything a respectable medical professional would need.

Respectable. Yeah, right.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to the suite slid open, and he turned, crossing his arms at you.

You drove him up the walls with your shenanigans, and how you shrugged your injuries off like they were a drop of sweat. Even the time he had to practically scoop your guts back into you.

You were the bane of his existence in the medical wing, you and Hobie. But moreso you, as you found your way under his hands in some way or another constantly.

"So..." You started bashfully, leaning on the doorframe for support. "Don't get mad..."

⛑️⛑️⛑️⛑️⛑️🪖🪖🪖🪖🪖

"You mean to tell me you were trying to... to skateboard? While playing a goddamn guitar?" He growled, the eyes of his mask narrowing as he examined your bare, slightly swollen ankle.

His fingers were gentle, turning your foot this way and that, gauging your pain, checking the bruising...

But he had no idea how his touch was affecting you in other ways.

You got made fun of, by some of the other Spiders. Ben Reilly the most. He even outpaced Hobie with how he poked at how down bad you were for this Peter Parker. The one everyone called Spider-Medic. Sure you almost never saw his face, except on a few occasions. Sure, he looked like half the other Peter Parkers; but he had his own "look" that set him apart from the rest, a rugged appearance that made him look unique.

"You probably hurt yourself just to get his attention at this point! Not a good way to spend time with the guy you like, toots." Ben clucked. "You need a better icebreaker."

He wasn't... entirely wrong.

You were accident-prone as hell. You got injured in training, on the job... doing stupid shit with Hobie.

"Well... er. It was for a bet, so--"

He cut you off. "Don't give a damn what it was for. Doing reckless shit like this is childish."

His tone was firm, but not unkind.

He hadn't looked up at you once, and thankfully you were happy you still wore your mask. It hid the blush that crept up your cheeks.

"R.... Right." You mumble, squirming.

"Stop moving, you'll only make this harder." He grunted, reaching into his kit.

You do as he says, letting him wrap your ankle with some gauze and his webs.

His hands were warm, even through his gloves.

"Good girl." He says quietly.

You worked hard to suppress the shudder that went up your spine at that.

"It's barely a sprain. You're lucky. Don't do that kinda shit again." He told you.

"Y-yeah..." You mumble as he stands, crossing his arms and looking down at you.

God, why did you find this man so hot?

He sighed and set the kit down on the bed next to you, sorting the contents neatly again, grabbing excess from the cabinet nearby to restock it.

"So, um..." You try, clearing your throat awkwardly.

"Spit it out, kid. Don't have all day." He says, focusing on his task, meticulously organizing the kit on muscle memory alone.

"I--I am not a kid! You're only like, two or three years older than I am!" You retort.

"Yeah well, I've seen and experienced enough to get you beat by a few decades." He narrowed his eyes at you.

"And doing shit like this? Getting hurt like this? Pretty damn childish if you ask me."

You wilted a bit, twiddling your fingers in your lap silently.

He wasn't wrong... but you weren't the only Spidey that didn't take things seriously all the time.

Like that one who had that Deadpool guy shoved up his ass.

Literally, you sometimes joked. It never ceased to make the guy blush, much to your delight.

Like you were blushing now, red as the parts on his suit...

"I don't mean to... not all the time, I just--"

One of his eyebrows shoots up. "What do you mean all the time? You get hurt on purpose?"

You jolted, realizing how you just let that slip.

"I, uh--I just--what I meant was..." You fumble for the words.

"What the hell are you thinking?!" He snapped, his voice turning as stern as... well, what you assume a drill instructor sounded like.

"Hurting yourself on purpose? What kind of logic goes behind that? What, you trying to get yourself killed?!"

You flinched under the onslaught of words.

"Because kid, if you think that getting yourself hurt will get you out of missions like cutting school, then I don't want to see you in my med bay at all!"

"I--"

"What kind of reckless bullshit is that? If you do this shit intentionally, then you shouldn't be in the Spider Society at all, kid--"

"I do it to come see you, you asshole!" You snap back, unable to take his criticism.

He falls silent, wide-eyed as you continue.

"And stop calling me kid! You think that shit doesn't piss me off? I've tried getting your attention, but the only way you ever look at me is when you're treating me!" You say, everything you've kept bottled up for the past six months reaching its boiling point.

"You never leave the med bay, and when you do--once in a blue fucking moon--is when you go get food from the cafeteria or go talk to Miguel! You never do anything else! Franky, it worries everyone! Not just me! It freaks out fucking Lyla, Med! Lyla!"

You continue to blow it all out. He could swear he could almost see steam coming off of you, like an angry kettle boiling.

"You never talk to anyone other than Miguel or Lyla, except when you're fucking treating someone! I just--I wanted to--You--"

Your shoulders slump and you suddenly deflate.

"You don't... I don't... I can't just--"

He sat silently, staring at you as you reached up, digging the heels of your palms into the lenses of your suit, as if that really did anything to help the tears that wanted to come out.

Fuck, you were one of the emotional ones.

For once, the word "kid" didn't come out of his mouth. Your name did.

And when he said it, he was... gentle. His tone fragile.

"If you've seen what I have... done what I have... you'd understand."

"I may not understand it all, but I want to! I just don't know how to talk to you if I'm not bleeding from somewhere!" You retorted, slapping your hand on the mattress for emphasis.

"You won't even look at me." You say quietly. "Not unless you're patching me up."

He listens to you now, and... shit. Fuck.

He was feeling things.

Feelings. Feelings he hadn't realized he was even feeling until you fessed up.

Feelings he hadn't felt since before he was shipped out.

Before...

Shit, is that why you annoyed him so much? Is that why his skin prickled when he touched you?

This wasn't... he couldn't...

He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve... someone like you. Plucky, happy, so full of life.

And here you were, pouring out everything that's been on your mind, everything about him. And it was breaking his heart.

His hands were moving before either of you even realized it.

He helmet and mask were ripped off and tossed to the floor, the metal clanking a bit too loud. Your mask joined his on the tile, eyes as big as saucers as his mouth found yours, desperate and hungry.

God... you wanted to keep yelling at him but having the mouth of the man you've been pining for for months on yours threw all sense out the window; your hands pawed at each other greedily.

His hands slid around your waist, down, gripping your ass and pulling you against him, grinding his hips into yours with a groan.

Fuck, he was already getting hard. It's been so long...

He rolled the bulge in his pants against your throbbing heat, earning a weak moan from you as his mouth moved down, biting at the skin that shielded your leaping pulse, lips placing frantic kisses at the curve of your jaw, beneath your ear as he continued to grind into you, coaxing himself to full mast as fresh pulses of arousal ping around your stomach like a pinball machine.

His hastily tears his gloves off and drops them on the bed, fingers fumbling for the zipper on the back of your suit.

He tugs it down as you arch yourself against him, pressing your chest against his.

He peels it down to your waist like he's done it a hundred times; and groans deeply when he sees you weren't wearing a bra.

"Fucking hell." He growled, reaching out to pinch and roll your nipple with one hand, while groping your ass with another as your mouths crash together again, all teeth and tongue and just sheer desire.

His kisses were almost like punches, ripping the air and moans from your throat.

If his kisses were punches, you really were feeling punch-drunk right about now.

"Peter." You gasp when he bites at your bottom lip.

He stills for a moment, his mouth at the curve of your neck and shoulder.

"Say my name again." He growled, his voice heady with lust.

He bites down on the soft skin, sending sharp jolts of pleasure arcing through your bloodstream.

"Peter!" You moan breathlessly.

He leans you back, moving to place open-mouthed kisses to your collar bone, licking and nipping as he went, one of his hands groping at your left breast as his teeth close around the nipple on your right.

You moaned out loud as his mouth greedily latched on, his tongue swirling and his teeth pinching your nipple ferociously, trailing his lips across your chest to your other neglected nipple.

"Fuck--" You squeak, feeling his hand reach down to cup your clothed sex.

He could feel the heat there roll off in waves right into his palm, a slight dampness sticking through to his skin.

He groaned into your tit before popping free.

"Lift your hips for me, sweetheart."

You comply, letting him pull your suit down the rest of the way, careful of your bandaged ankle, even if it wasn't hurt that badly.

He hissed out a sigh between his teeth when he laid eyes on your wet and puffy sex, glossy from your arousal; the hair just above cut into a small heart.

God damn, you weren't wearing underwear, either.

Did you always wear your suit like this? One bad rip away from bearing it all...

The thought of you fighting like this, your suit getting torn juuuust right had his cock leaking at the mental image.

He didn't waste any time, his mouth immediately went in, his tongue stroking your folds before thrusting and twirling your clit.

He reminded himself of the things he'd done before.

'Same old song and dance, remember what you learned...'

And damn did he like how you were squirming.

His hair wasn't long enough to grip, a short, military buzz cut that he kept out of habit. His eyes glazed in the most gorgeous way as they locked glances with yours as his mouth devoured you like he was a starving man.

He lifted his mouth off of you, his chin shiny and slick.

"Fuck, you're so wet. D'you always get like this?" He hissed out, gliding his fingers through your folds, before plunging into your depths and curling in the most delicious way.

You nod, whimpering needily. "C-can't help it... ah--always g-get like this..."

"You're like a goddamned fountain. All this for me?" He breathed, kissing the little dip of your hip bone as he continued to fuck you with his hand, kneeling between your legs like a man kneeling before his god.

And, hell, you were already so close, his long thick fingers worked wonders inside, stroking that little spot inside that had your vision going dark at the edges.

You clawed desperately at him, at the sheets, gripping your hair as you cried out, your orgasm rapidly approaching.

Any woman dumb enough to pass this Peter Parker up was a fucking dumbass. They were missing out.

"P-P-Peter--" You babble out, whimpering pathetically.

"That's it..." He urges you quietly, shifting his body so his mouth was at the shell of your ear, his hand not moving from out of your cunt.

He pressed the heel of his palm into your clit, rolling it in time with your hips and the crook of his fingers as your orgasm crested.

"Good girl... let it out."

You whined loudly, ripping at the green uniform he wore over his suit as your climax slammed into you, your muscles squeezing his fingers so tightly he swore you could probably break them; more of your juices gushing out and soaking his hand and the sheets below.

He breathed heavily into your skin as he slowly moved his fingers, helping you ride out your orgasm until you were calm.

"Fuck." You panted, dropping your head onto the mattress.

"Oh, it'll happen." He sighs, giving you a smirk that creases the corners of his eyes.

You watch as he palms the bulge in his pants, and your hands tug on his shirt.

"Ah, I... c... can I..?" You blunder.

"Sure can, sweetheart." He all but purrs. "Be mindful of your ankle."

You give him a wet hungry kiss before switching places with him, helping him undress and kneeling between his legs.

And the sight that greeted you sent a fresh throb to your cunt.

His cock looked about seven inches, and the girth was enough to make your head spin. Veins swirled up the shaft, his tip vivid and leaking as you gripped it, your fingertips barely touching.

You give him a few pumps, your toes curling at the sounds he let out.

"You ever do this before? I should have asked..." he panted down at you, eyes locking with yours as you kissed his weeping tip.

"Yeah. I've done it a few times." You say.

You're worried about how he'd take that, knowing you weren't exactly innocent. But the look on his face and the way he bites his lip quashes your worries.

"Shit. Alright, babydoll. You lead on this one." He groaned.

You shove down the grin you want to make, instead settling for swallowing his cock as deep as you could, your jaw already straining at the stretch of him. You were really happy you didn't have a gag reflex, right now. Your exes were more than happy to abuse that fact.

You shake of the thought when you hear his voice grow shaky, his fingers gripping in your hair as you bob your head.

"Oh fuck..."

You stroke with your tongue, jerking him with your hand each time you pulled back, the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue.

You weren't afraid to get a little messy, letting saliva drip down to help lubricate your fist, the sounds of you sucking him off and the noises he was making filling the suite rivaling only the raunchiest of porn videos you've perused on the internet.

You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you liked to think you were pretty good.

Your hand cupped his balls gently, as you kept pulling your head back and pushing back down, feeling them tighten in your palm.

"Ah, fuck--" He moaned. "I'm gonna... fuck!"

He tried to pull you back, he really did, but you were a woman on a mission and he just couldn't resist your drive and focus on the task at hand.

He emptied his cock down your throat, his teeth gritting tightly as he tipped his head back, eyes screwed shut and sweat dripping down his brow.

He was stupid as fuck for not noticing how you were looking to him these past few months.

You pull off of him with a lewd pop, and kiss his tip one last time before resting your chin on one of his knees.

You batted your eyelashes and smiled up at him.

"You still alive?" You teased.

He looked down at you and shook his head, petting your hair affectionately.

"You're a little shit. C'mere."

You squeak and giggle when he pulls you up, pressing you down into the sterile-smelling bedding as his mouth finds yours again, tongues dancing as you card your nails through his short hair.

He groans again, a noise you wanted to hear a lot more often.

You part your legs for him, grinning into his mouth as you feel his cock pressing against you, still rock hard and ready to go.

"Aww... you're pent up, huh?" You purr, licking the pulse in his neck.

"Keep it up and I won't give it to you." He growled.

You instantly lay back and bite your lip, looking up at him with a glimmer in your eyes that made his heart flip, being obedient.

His good girl.

Damn, he could get used to calling you that.

He could get used to seeing how your eyes rolled back as he sunk his cock into you with a slow grind of his hips.

"Fuck..." You moaned, the girth of his cock felt bigger inside you than it did in your palm, the stretch toeing the line between painful and pleasurable as you felt the drag of his shaft inside your velvety walls.

He bottomed out inside of you, holding there, his hips flush against yours as he moans deeply in your ear.

"So fucking tight." He grunted, one of his arms next to your head, fisting the pillow as his other hand gripped at your hip, his fingers probably leaving bruises in their wake.

"I... I'm not gonna lie. Fuck, I don't think I'm gonna last long."

It made him feel a little inadequate, sure, but he wasn't gonna lie to you. It had been ages since he'd last had sex with somebody, and the feel of your mouth and tight pussy were enough to drive any man insane.

"Don't care. Keep going..." You whine, your nails digging into his shoulders as you kiss his jaw.

His eyes rolled back and he turned his head so his mouth could meet yours as he pulled himself out almost entirely, before slamming into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.

He set a rough and brutal pace for himself, burying his nose in your hair and breathing deeply as he gets lost in your cunt shivering at your nails scratching down the muscles in his back, leaving angry red marks.

You felt tears prickle in your eyes as his cock punched you mercilessly, gliding in and out of your slick walls as he grunted and panted in your ear with wild desperation.

"Oh god, oh fuck--" You squeak out as he takes your hips in both of his hands and pulls you up, pistoning in and out of you like a machine.

He's all but bent in half as he says things to you in your ear, filthy praises about how good you feel around him, how sweet you are, his good you taste, how much better you feel wrapped around him than his own fist.

It was enough to send your head into a tailspin.

"My good girl." He grunted, biting softly at your ear lobe.

You shudder, your muscles clenching around him at what he said, and he makes what can only be described as a whining sound as he slaps his hips into yours, almost disoriented as he pumps you full, fucking you through his orgasm as he paints your velvet walls a sheen of white.

You're both breathing heavy, sweaty, and hot as his cock twitched with the remnants of his almost mind-numbing orgasm.

"Shit." He hissed. "You didn't--"

"I'm fine." You mumbled, brain still fuzzy from the ferocity in which he fucked you.

"Uh-uh." He sighs, keeping his softening cock sheathed inside you as he brings his fingers to your swollen clit, desperately circling the swollen bundle of nerves.

"Wan' you to cum on my cock. Come on, babydoll." He said through gritted teeth, feeling your walls flutter around him.

Your thighs squeezed against his hips as his fingers worked feverishly at your clit, his hips rolling into yours lazily as he dragged his barely half-hard cock in and out, adding extra stimulation.

Your second orgasm came harder than the last one, your whole body almost seizing up as you clawed at his shoulders, your hands falling to grip at his biceps as you babbled incoherently, mumbling his name as you gushed around him, his eyes rolling back at the sensation.

"That's it, sweetheart..." He praised, watching you come undone beneath him.

He dropped down on his elbows, his arms on either side of your head as he caged you in, giving you soft kisses, his lips spelling silent "I love you's" all the way down your neck and back up again.

He rolled off of you, pulling out and tucking you against him as you both basked in the afterglow, feeling small bits of his cum dripping out of you.

"Hey, doc...." You say affectionately, your fingers trailing circles lazily on his chest.

"Hm?" He hummed, his hand toying with your hair.

"What am I gonna do about my sprained ankle?"

"Hnh." He grunted softly.

"Gonna need some bed rest, I think. Here in the med bay, to be safe."

"Oh? And you're gonna take care of me?" You giggle innocently.

"Somebody has to make sure you don't exacerbate your injury."

[ifthiswingscouldfly]

Hello! ❤️ If you're still accepting requests for match-ups, I'd love one, please.

Both SFW and NSFW (if that's okay)

Physical traits: I have very light blonde hair (not white/platinum but close) I have green eyes and I am 5 foot 4 inches tall. I have a curvy/bigger body type. I think it would be considered a pear shape?

Positive traits:

I am very reliable (although this may stem from my inability to say no) I am always willing to offer up help in any way that I can to others.

I am incredibly loyal, especially to my family and friends (who I consider family) I often don't stand up for myself, but I will rain down hell on those that hurt the ones I love and care about.

I can be very creative/inventive, I often notice things that others don't and love coming up with new solutions to problems.

Negative traits:

I can be secretive, and I hold everything in. If I have a problem or something bothers me, I usually just keep everything in, don't talk about it and hope that forgetting will make it go away.

I often lack motivation and self-esteem. I battle depression every single day, and most days it kicks my ass. When it's really bad, I don't eat, don't sleep and can't talk. I am basically unable to do anything that I need to do.

I can be easily jealous. This mostly surrounds relationships (friendly or romantic) mostly just because I worry that I'm not worthy of their time or a place in their lives.

Hobbies: Researching things? Dunno if that's a hobby tho, but if I find something of interest I will research it endlessly. My friends have referred to me as an "encyclopedia of useless knowledge". I love music and can play a handful of instruments. I love playing trivia, word and puzzle games... anything that really makes you think. Reading! I love to read and have beta read for friends and acquaintances and I have arc read for writers from tiktok.

Likes: reading, the night sky, candles, bats, plants, tea, chocolate, autumn, music, rainy days, crows, and the colors gray and white.

Dislikes: winter, snow, spiders, lots of people/crowds, sports, sleeping/being tired, scary things/horror, surprises, lasagna, and rude people.

MBTI & Zodiac: INTJ-T and Scorpio (Nov)

Love language(s): Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation

Thank you @namine-somebodies-nobody for the request ❤.

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Your match is....

Isaac Newton

Pre-Relationship (N/SFW-ish)

Well, This relationship is mainly featured by trust and mutual understanding.

But first and at first there was nothing to be so alluring towards Isaac. You both had a very casual encounter where you both exchanged names and other mundane things to know about the person. Isaac needs time to open up and so do you.

Staying at the mansion you started to open up for all the suitors mentioning all the knowledge you have and almost all of them admired how much you know especially our scientist Isaac. He was engaging in almost every topic you know because God he was so thirsty for a smart woman like you. But, he never had the courage to tell you how much he admired you for real. So, both of you agreed to be friends because why not? You both shared almost everything and you know what this struck Isaac like a thunder.

One evening at the library where you used to sit and read in silence Isaac opened the door and he found you there. Nothing in particular was wrong or weird but he asked you if you want to drink a cup of coffee with him or not. So, you said yes because why not?. As the coffee arrived to the library you and Isaac sit on the chairs close to each other and a book was in front of you. Isaac looked at you and said "You know what I think the author wanted the reader to look at a deeper meaning". "Yes I think so, I mean the main characters delivered the idea pretty well" you answered. And then the ideas where coming like a fountain and both of you where discussing each one with so much excitement and passion. Your eyes where gleaming in the romantic light of the library and Physics professor got a bit excited because of it. So he never left his seat whereas you stand and took a lazy steps while talking not realizing that he got in fact excited. His face flushed and he bit his lower lip in frustration and he no longer responded to you. "Is something wrong Isaac?" You asked. Leaning forward your golden hair flow softly around your waist. Isaac looked with a flushed face and then said " N-nothing but can you please bring me a cup of water? I feel feverish" he said. You nodded and headed to the kitchen to bring him a cup of water and when you returned to the library Isaac wasn't there. The library was empty and almost everything was like you were alone except for a two empty cup of coffee at the table. "What's wrong?" You said to yourself, "maybe he went to the restroom" another voice in your head replied. "Should I wait for him?" Another voice said, "A little I guess" another voice replied. You sit there waiting for him until you remembered your book so you returned to it forgetting about Isaac. Several hours later after you fell asleep on the couch you felt someone covering you up with a blanket and when you opened your eyes it was Le Comte. You woke up next morning and folded the blanket to go get ready in your room.

The following week nothing really happened you spend more time with Isaac and other residents.

Listen to thunder by Lana Del Rey while reading this.

Confession (SFW)

The month passed and Le Comte invited you to his room so you can discuss your situation matter. You knocked the door of his room "Come in" he said. You entered the room with two cups of tea placed on a tray and then you sit in front of Le Comte. "I invited you today to discuss your stay here ma cherie. Have you decided whether you want to leave or stay yet?" He asked. "Will I think it was lovely to stay here Le Comte but I might think that I should leave" you answered. "Well then I can't convince you to stay here ma cherie it is your decision after all" he said. "You are right Le Comte" you said lowering your head " but I might say that I will miss my life here" you said pouting. " Think wisely and if you needed any help" he said while taking a sip from his cup "tell me" he said. You nodded your head " I appreciate your generosity so much" you said.

The following day almost all the mansion's residents knew that you might leave by the end of the moon, including Isaac.

That day you received a letter from Isaac delivered by Sebastian.

" Dear Namine...

I was so sad that we had to depart after we became close friends to each other. The thing is I cannot change your mind but I can invite you to spend a night with me where we go to stargaze together.

Please don't decline my offer because this is the last chance for both of us to spend time together.

Your loving servant...

Isaac"

You closed the letter and thought to yourself about how good was your relationship with Isaac. He was really a good and comforting friend which was to some point the warmth you never felt in your life.

At night Isaac knocked on your bedroom door and asked you if you were ready or not and you answered that you are. Putting the last touches on your outfit.

You opened the door with a sweet smile on your face. Isaac smiled back at you and held your hand. "Let's go" he said. After walking for like 5 minutes you managed to see a cute picnic blanket on the grass and Isaac's telescope was there too beside the blanket.

You looked around amazed of what you saw then you looked back at Isaac "Wow that's wonderful" you said. "It was only for you" he said. You looked into his eyes and then away. "You don't have to do all of this" you said lowering your head. " No I should've done more for you Namine because what inside my heart is beyond admiration" he said. You looked back at his eyes and said "Thanks I'm really sad because we have to". Isaac looked at you and said " There's something I have to tell you". "What is it Isaac?" You said. "We are friends right? I admire our friendship so much Namine but you're more than that to me" he said. " There is nothing like you and it would be nothing too. You're smart and wonderful just the way you're and I would never trade you for anything in this world at all" he continued. "But alas you had to leave while something inside me growing bigger and bigger each day for you and I was too shy to say. I had to admit long time ago that you have bewitched me body and soul Namine and I love you" he said. His confession made your head spin and you almost fainted but he captivated you and lay you down. "What were you thinking of?" You asked. "I don't know I just wanted you to know because Leonardo told me to not keep this secret in my heart and I cannot bear the fact that you'd be gone soon" he answered. "Isaac" you said. " I think I love you too" you said confessing for him. He took your lips with his, kissing you slowly. Such a poetic evening for both of you.

Relationship headcanon (SFW)

Isaac is a very peaceful lover. Everything with him is just calm and peaceful.

The fact that he asked Le Comte to bring you both a gramophone so you can slow dance whenever you feel stressed or sad.

At first he might be shy and awkward but looking at the way your relationship started it will warm up eventually.

He is so sweet he will try to make you sandwiches and remind you to take breaks and relax because you shouldn't take life seriously.

But on the other hand he is a workaholic too so please remind him to take some rest and relax.

He love your hands and fingers. He loves to hold your hand because he feels at peace and loved after all that loneliness.

He loves how you cup his cheeks and hug him so he could calm down whenever he feel anxious.

Both of you stargazed a lot together. And he really do enjoy explaining the science behind the stars and astronomy too.

Whenever you feel busy or you need help he will jump and go with you so he can help you and protect you at the same time.

He is such a "cover mistakes with a concealer" type of person. I mean that with my whole mind.

If any of you misunderstood each other he won't really try to fix the problem. He either tend to ignore or run away from them.

But he won't let you go to sleep angry or unsatisfied. No, he will learn how to face them as a grown up adult.

He would really appreciate your loyalty above all and because he is loyal too.

Relationship headcanon(NSFW)

"Come on take a walk on the wild side and let me fuck you hard in the pouring rain".

This is literally him in a relationship. I can say no more.

So, at first he was shy towards the thing especially after the first two times.

He doubt himself like A LOT. And poor boy don't really know how to satisfy you.

He is not that knowledgeable with sex and intimate stuff BUT he will seek your pleased and opinion above all.

He might ask for advice from the mansion's Daddys Leonardo and Comte.

But let's get real here I'm trying to write smut after all.

He is so thick. He lust after you like crazy.

He is just as horney as Arthur when he is in love ugh Arthur was never in love.

Whenever he have to travel to another country to lecture his researches he would probably take your underwear with him so can remember your smell.

He would be eager for you and when he come you he have to immediately make love to you so you can know how much he loves you.

You're so pretty when you wear red. He loves red and black lingerie on you.

He is really into giving you oral sex. Also I can see that he is so into putting you in the right mood.

When it comes to being intimate with you he will always make your comfort his number one priority.

Key work is MOOD. He would never manipulate you into doing it when you're not in the mood. He would like it more when you feel like doing it with him.

Possible conflicts:

As I mentioned before there's two point you two have to deal with. The first one is Isaac's attitude towards problems. He either run away from them or just ignore them. So you have to really talk to him so you don't have to fell into the misunderstanding trap.

Another thing is that Isaac is a literal workaholic and anxious most of the time. So you really need to find the key balance between work and your love life.

Other match:

Le Comte De Saint Germain

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Note:

Hey guys I'm M and I'm really sorry for being late with this. And I do really appreciate your patience.

I hope you loved my match up. And write me in the comments if you liked it or...

Love you all

M🤎

[demonogeny]

Oktigi headcanons

About random things

1. Hematophage (blood sucking) parasites have some useful ways of locating food and I headcanon that Oktigi seek some of these signals instinctively like warmth, that could be potentially cute. They also instinctively grab onto and wrap around things so they are very cuddly for sleepy time (if you're not afraid).

2. They can taste through their suckers like octopuses do, if they touch you with an arm and recoil you need to shower.

3. They need to hidrate as they seem at least partially aquatic so they come back home to do so at the end of the day.

4. I am undecided how they sleep, if they are semi-aquatic they could sleep in something that has water? a water bed?, fountain? a little fancy plate with water?? A small fancy tank?? Just a normal cushioned bed but small???

5. The way they wrap around their host all day unfortunately ends with that host being a drooled on.

6. Let's say you want to pet your nice friendly Oktigi partner to sleep, the best place is all across the top and above the eyes, the sides are risky and more sensitive, do not touch under, like a cat.

7. You need to do them favors of all sorts, they will refuse to do things themselves for as minimal effort as they take, they are lazy, very lazy.

8. They don't like being in their actual bodies away from their hosts for too long as they are naked, defenseless, tiny and rather useless.

9. Host bodies, just like any possesion and property are symbols of status and other Oktigi will judge what and who you're wearing.

10. They live about 80-100 years nowdays. They tend to be unhealthy as anyone in an industrialized society ends up being, but they are healthier than other industrialists since they mainly use up someone else's body more than their own.

11. Reproduction requires way more nutrition and thus a whole lot more blood feeding like in many earth hematophage parasites.

About their diet and feeding

Lorne said they are blood sucking parasites and I have two elaborations on this. They are either obligatory hematophages and they feed their host well enough so that then they can suck their blood right after. Or they are facultative hematophages and aside from blood they can feed on other things, so they do go out to fancy and costly dinners where they eat barely anything anyways.

They would need to feed little amounts but several times to keep themselves from going hungry while not letting that nice host body of theirs simply go anemic and go to waste, also to let time pass between feedings and make them short because I would suppose that as any hematofage they inject anticoagulants and they don't want their host bleeding out on their nice suit and also just dying. But an Oktigi getting greedy with blood and killing their host accidentally does happen, especially to younger ones, for that reason they do switch bodies every now and then, some have quite a few different ones.

About their parasitism

We see Sekto hijack the motor functions of his host and move fluidly as if natively and Lorne said Oktigi obtain the knowledge of their host so unlike mind controlling parasites from earth that control would technically come from something beyond enzimatic and hormonal control, knowledge and memory are simply firing patterns in the neuronal array so that's electrical synapsis and to control the body of the host that well he'd have to in fact hijack the central nervous system and everything and control the celular signaling pathways of all systems, so my headcannon is that Sekto would have to have an organ or appendage inside his "maw" that can penetrate and connect "like a usb port" to the brain of the host and inside it there would be an extension of his neurons (think of how neurons extend across an irl octopus arms) and that would incredibly only theoretically pass signals from one to the other as in a single network (let's ignore morphology and everything esle entirely).

Now the true sci-fi comes in and all I can say is that to me it works like in Avatar where the blue people have those weird tendrils that they can interconnect with eachother and other creatures and thus make a "bond" across their minds to the extent that one can feel and perceive through the other in a bizarre mind melding way, I remember @ohfugecannada theorizing about a peaceful symbiotic shared state of consciousness between the Oktigi and host that is born out of a lot of trust and it seems to me that's possible this way, that would be a very bizarre and intimate thing to experience, very interesting. But most Oktigi aren't about that life, I don't know if they are biologically obligate parasites or facultative ones but as a sapient species at least they are socially required to if they want to stand a chance in life, so that connection would somehow include a mechanism that can suppress the host's mind, how? Idk tbh but I guess it would be like when you inhibit the receptors that affect certain areas of the brain and sort of shut them down, but you would need most to still be active at least partially control it. All this on a living organism, I saw mentioned they can parasite dead ones and there I have no idea because cellular destruction would definitely be an issue since there would be no neural network to work with and no way to transport signals through the bloodstream. Anyways that's my headcannon on how the parasitosis by an Oktigi kinda works, there is 0% need to explain this but i like theorizing.

About their reproduction and life cycle

They're the kind of parasite that doesn't go through change of phases in their life cycle, they are born like that and just grow with age. They lay eggs and there's many of them but few make it since the start. There isn't much of a parental care whatsoever and they're less social than Glukkons. I don't see them as a superspecies but idk Lorne loves those. They have dioecy but between females and males there's little to no sexual dymorphism.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Ange, you're like a walking encyclopedia, omg. I love reading your answers to questions!!!!

Hahaha, thank you <3 I am a fountain of useless knowledge.

[rainsmediaradio]

The Daily Fountain Devotional of the Church Of Nigeria (Anglican Communion) 18th December – Flee Idolatry.

TOPIC: Flee Idolatry. Read: Isaiah44:9-23(NKJV) 44:9. Those who make an image, all of them useless, And their precious things shall not profit; They their own witnesses; They neither see nor know, that they may be ashamed. 44:10. Who would form a god or mold an image profits him nothing? 44:11. Surely all his companions would be ashamed; And the workmen, they mere men. Let them all be gathered together, Let them stand up; Yet they shall fear, They shall be ashamed together. 44:12. The blacksmith with the tongs works one in the coals, Fashions it with hammers, And works it with the strength of his arms. Even so, he is hungry, and his strength fails; He drinks no water and is faint. 44:13. The craftsman stretches out rule, He marks one out with chalk; He fashions it with a plane, He marks it out with the compass, And makes it like the figure of a man, According to the beauty of a man, that it may remain in the house. 44:14. He cuts down cedars for himself, And takes the cypress and the oak; He secures for himself among the trees of the forest. He plants a pine, and the rain nourishes 44:15. Then it shall be for a man to burn, For he will take some of it and warm himself; Yes, he kindles and bakes bread; Indeed he makes a god and worships He makes it a carved image, and falls down to it. 44:16. He burns half of it in the fire; With this half he eats meat; He roasts a roast, and is satisfied. He even warms and says, “Ah! I am warm, I have seen the fire.” 44:17. And the rest of it he makes into a god, His carved image. He falls down before it and worships Prays to it and says, “Deliver me, for you my god!” 44:18. They do not know nor understand; For He has shut their eyes, so that they cannot see, their hearts, so that they cannot understand. 44:19. And no one considers in his heart, Nor knowledge nor understanding to say, “I have burned half of it in the fire, Yes, I have also baked bread on its coals; I have roasted meat and eaten And shall I make the rest of it an abomination? Shall I fall down before a block of wood?” 44:20. He feeds on ashes; A deceived heart has turned him aside; And he cannot deliver his soul, Nor say, “ not a lie in my right hand?” 44:21. ” Remember these, O Jacob, And Israel, for you My servant; I have formed you, you My servant; O Israel, you will not be forgotten by Me! 44:22. I have blotted out, like a thick cloud, your transgressions, And like a cloud, your sins. Return to Me, for I have redeemed you.” 44:23. Sing, O heavens, for the LORD has done Shout, you lower parts of the earth; Break forth into singing, you mountains, O forest, and every tree in it! For the LORD has redeemed Jacob, And glorified Himself in Israel.

ANGLICAN COMMUNION DEVOTIONAL OUTLINE  FOR 18TH DECEMBER 2023.

The futility of idols is properly highlighted for us today. It seems strange that a man can cut a tree by himself, burn part of it to warm himself, cook with some, roast meat to eat with some, and yet fashion some into an idol and bow down to worship it, claiming it to be some god! As strange and senseless as it is for any spiritually reasonable person, it is not just so for others who are not spiritually discerning. But that is just the way of sin. It is deceptive and enslaving; it does not allow its victim to think straight. Sin blinds the sinner! We need not think that idols are limited to wood or stone. A senseless addiction to the pursuit of money is equally so. Money can become an idol, and indeed it has become so for many Christians, regrettably. Anything that competes with God in our lives is an idol. It could be money, fame, husband, wife, or position. All idols have the same characteristics:They deceive and take our attention away from God. What has become an idol in your life? Is God still retaining first position in your heart? Do you continuously miss fellowshipping with Him because you claim something or someone else is important and taking your time? Then that person or thing is an idol. Discard him, he08:25 r or it. “Remember these, O Jacob, and Israel, for you are My servant; I have formed you, you are My servant”(v.21). PRAYER: May my life be consecrated, Lord, to You. Read the full article

[uhzuku]

So before I start any anime I look up the characters and let me say, based on the description, I'm wayyyy too similar to Aoshi Tokimitsu. I too, lack self confidence, get random burst of joy, and am a fountain of useless knowledge when it comes to topics I am interested in.

I'm kinda excited to start watching. I just hope it's good.

IDXNURJCJ VALID DHDNJC

[deathofamemer]

📌💎

📌 how did you find your hyperfixation?

lego movies: i watched the first one when it came out in theatres back in 2014!! i loved it instantly and read a ton of fanworks for it, shoutout to piece of rebellion, and it just captivated me. the interest waned and then flared back up for the lego batman movie, and i loved tlm2 when it came out in theatres. the actual fixation part didn’t start until a rewatch with you a few months later, and now i’m drowning in lego hell and can closet cosplay rex dangervest. we out here?

danny phantom: i remember seeing bits of it on tv back when it was airing and getting spooked by it (around 2007 considering the ep i remember freaking me out was a season 3 episode) but i didn’t get into it solidly until arouuuuuund 2012? i caught the tail end of an episode on nicktoons and it got my interest, and i ended up watching the entire series and getting really invested in fanworks and forums. i’ve got some old dms on ffn that crafted semi-scientific lore for it, i just got sucked in fast.

greek mythology: i’d say it solidly started around 2010? i started reading percy jackson and got hooked, especially after we did a thing in class about myths and went to the parthenon (the replica in nashville) on a field trip. i’ve always been a sucker for fairy tales and folklore, and greek myth just sunk its fangs into me fast.

pokemon: i grew up hearing about pokemon, my cousin jessie played the games and had the trading cards, so i knew some things but didn’t get into it for a long time, and then in 2013 i finally picked up pokemon x and i just fell in love. x might be comparatively weak, but it’s got a fond place in my heart as my first pokemon game.

💎 are there any fun facts or trivia that you would like to share?

lego movies: scribble cop’s voice isn’t actually a specific tone on the part of liam neeson! he forgot to do a voice for them, so scrib’s voice is just a bad cop-ish tone but pitched up. also the benny minifigs are the first minifigs to be broken by design! his helmet’s plastic is actually extra thick to keep it from actually breaking more than it’s supposed to.

danny phantom: in an old concept for danny phantom, he was going to be a human teenager with a ghost sense, hunting ghosts and kicking ass. he was going to have a motorcycle. and a pet owl named spooky.

greek mythology: while greek myth is known for having the romans borrow quite a bit from them, the greeks actually borrowed some of their deities as well! the most notable one is aphrodite, who’s technically a loan of the goddess ishtar!

pokemon: swsh is the first game to have a dark type gym leader! previous dark type specialists have been either the villains or part of the elite four, with the exception of nanu, who is a kahuna and thus outside of the typical pokemon league structure.

[maycontainfeminists]

my google search history is weird but hey ask me how you die from burns or how they make candle wax 

[maggieandthedragon]

@vehuhia replied to your post“Am I missing smth or”

Damn pal, I didn't know that, that was fucking interesting! Even if it turned out that it's not that, thank you for that!

You’re welcome! Five years of graduate school have finally born fruit!

[idontdowellunderpressure]

Hisoillu Week - Day 5: Past/Future

Title: Reading the Future in the Past

Hisoka first saw the boy while he was sitting on one of the few unbroken slats of wood that formed the dilapidated fence that hugged the field of what might have been a farm. Now it was just a wide field with dry soil that refused to support anything more than wild grass. Which was probably why no one had come over to kick Hisoka and his mom from their shack to try and reclaim the farmland. Hisoka didn’t mind that nothing grew in the dirt though, because the real source of income in the land was its proximity to the main road into town.

The boy he saw had longer hair than Hisoka’s, hanging a few inches below his shoulders, and it looked as dark and shiny as ink. The man beside the boy was huge, bigger than anyone Hisoka had ever seen, with arms wider than most men’s chests. His hair was long too, but white like sun-dried bones.

The two walked down the dirt path, at a pace fast enough to show intention but slow enough to lack purpose. Hisoka kicked his legs as he awaited their approach and launched himself off the fence to land in the middle of the path once they were within a few yards.

“Hello travelers,” Hisoka greeted. “Might I offer my services as a guide around town?”

“No thank you. We know where we’re going.” The older man said, his voice low and rough against Hisoka’s ears.

“You may know where you’re going, but what about the best way to get there? Wouldn’t want to wander down the wrong street and lose your wallet. Or worse, your life. I can guarantee a safe route to any place you’re headed.”

The man stared at him, his light blue eyes were cold, but Hisoka refused to let his body shiver from the chill.

“We’ll be fine.” The man finally said before stepping around Hisoka.

“Then how about a fortune?” He offered, turning as the man and the boy stepped around either side of him.

The man paused, and he spun around to face Hisoka. His right eyebrow was raised and Hisoka beamed at having caught his curiosity. The young boy didn’t look so impressed, but Hisoka was confident to raise his eyes after showing off his skill.

“Are you a specialist then?” The man asked.

“I am. Fortune telling runs deep in my blood. I’ve never been wrong yet.” He smiled, working to contain his pride so he wouldn’t come off as phony.

The man was still, as was his son. Neither one moved or spoke, but Hisoka kept the smile stretched across his face. His mother may have taught him all she knew about reading cards, but he still hadn’t quite mastered reading a person. Luckily, the man nodded for Hisoka to continue.

Hisoka knelt onto the dirt path and pulled the cards from his pocket. His mother used a very particular combination of playing cards and tarot cards to help read the future. A unique blend that she swore offered more truth and greater detail than one method alone. Hisoka shuffled his deck, closing his eyes and breathing carefully as he accepted the will of the universe to guide his hand.

“It is important to gather as much information as possible before a mission.” He heard the man state. “No matter how close you are to the end, and no matter who the information is from.”

“I understand.” Another voice replied. It was without any inflection and the tone was close to calm, if only for the lack of any other emotion to flavor it.

Hisoka opened his eyes as he laid the first card down. He drew the next and placed it beside the other, continuing until he had the first row -the past- complete. He began to explain the past.

“You are from a long history, and the hearts would suggest family history specifically. But the low number of hearts would suggest you’re not very close to any. You are a warrior, but also a man of money. The fighting and money are directly related. Your partner is similar to you. A warrior. But you met later in life, recently before marrying.”

Hisoka glanced up and didn’t see any change of expression on the man’s face. He continued to draw the cards for the present. A row that was ordinarily the shortest as it pertained to recent events.

“You are traveling to a new place. Warrior and money. You are here for a job that involves a fight and payment.”

There was only one reason a person would come to this useless town for a fight. Hisoka tilted his head up, eager to see if the man would react.

“You’re here to kill someone.”

The man’s eyes narrowed fractionally while the boy’s widened slightly. Hisoka’s blood pounded in his ears and his fingertips tingled as he continued, excited himself to see what the fortune would reveal. The last card in the present line spoke of knowledge and youth.

“And not only are you here to kill. You are here to teach the next generation.” The boy’s eyes didn’t move this time, but his jaw clenched just a bit.

Hisoka laid down the cards of the final row. The future for this man was long enough to suggest he wouldn’t die anytime soon. And all the clubs –a number inherently connected to people— hinted at the countless bodies that the man would continue to rack up.

“You will survive today. You will survive for many years. Lots of wealth and success. And I see more children for you…five in total. At least one girl.”

“Is that it?” The man asked as Hisoka picked up his cards.

“Well. You seem very attached to your work. Luckily for you, you are very successful at it.” Hisoka grinned as he cast a glance to the boy. “Would you like to try your luck?”

“No. We must be going.”

“That will be 100 jenny.”

The man frowned but pulled a bill from his pocket. “500 is the smallest I have.”

“Okay, but I don’t have change.” Hisoka chirped as he snatched the bill away from a hand as big as his face. “How about some insider information then? Tell me who you’re going to kill, and I might be able to offer a little something about him.”

“Gharet Morgil.”

“Oh~ Quite a high client. Got a lot people coming into town to see his women.” Hisoka knelt down in the dirt and drew a rough map with his finger. “That’s his place, east of the market square. When he’s not there selling and sampling his wares, he’s usually visiting his buddies down at the bar here,” Hisoka drew an x, “or at the gambling hall here,” he drew a circle.

             The man nodded and turned away, his son following him. Hisoka stood in the road, watching them leave, and was able to lock eyes with the son when he cast his dark gaze back towards Hisoka. He made sure to smile and wave at the boy, who simply looked away.

--------------- 

The second time Hisoka saw the boy was a few hours later. He had gone into the market to haggle what he could for 500 jenny and noticed the boy standing underneath the shade of an old hotel. The squatters who lived there kept glancing over at the boy, their eyes hungry for something beyond food. It wasn’t until one took a step towards him that Hisoka abandoned his plans and rushed to the boy’s side.

Hisoka slung an arm around the boy, despite the sharp pain that suddenly permeated his arm, and guided him over to the empty water fountain. They sat in the shade of the concrete structure and only then did Hisoka release the boy. Turns out a needle was what caused the stabbing pain, and he plucked the offending object without a grimace. He should have expected as much when approaching an assassin’s son.

“Well, well, well, we meet again.” He smiled, offering the needle back to the boy.

The boy stared at him with deep, dark eyes before taking the needle back.

“My name’s Hisoka, by the way.” The boy said nothing. “What about you?”

“Illumi,” he replied as he stashed the needle somewhere in the folds of his elaborate robe. Hisoka wondered what other naughty things he might be hiding.

“So, I never got to tell your fortune earlier. Would you like me to?”

Illumi’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes narrowed, and his lip curled down. Hisoka almost laughed at the textbook recreation of suspicion before him.

“Father said you’re a liar. You don’t have any nen.” Illumi tried to hold the expression as he spoke and Hisoka was finding it incredibly difficult to keep a straight face, knowing that the moment he laughed Illumi would take it to mean his fortune telling wasn’t serious.

“I don’t know what nen is, but I’m not lying. I really can tell fortunes. Was I wrong about anything I said to your dad?”

At this, the suspicion dwindled until his mouth was flat and his eyes were wide. “No. Everything was correct.”

“So then, I should be correct about you too. Aren’t you curious?” He held the pack of card aloft, waving them like an enticing treat. Illumi’s eyes followed his movement.

“Very well, but be quick. My father will be finished soon.”

Hisoka hummed an old lullaby his mother would sing as he closed his eyes and began to shuffle the deck as the universe stacked the deck accordingly. He pulled the first card and set it down, unsurprised to see the same one as that afternoon.

“You are from a long history, and the next card, hearts, suggests family history. The number of hearts however,” and here he tapped the card in question. “Are much higher than your father’s. Lots of hearts indicate deep familial ties and traditional values. You are very close to your family.”

The boy nodded. “I often help train my little brother.”

“And your profession is similar to your father. A warrior,” he pointed to the card. “and a man of money,” he tapped the next. “These clubs are lower in number. So you haven’t killed as many people yet.”

The boy seemed loathe to admit it, but he shook his head to confirm the suggestion.

Hisoka tapped the last tarot card, one of a man in stocks. “You have been through pain,” he explained and then moved on to tap the spades, a suit which always indicated an amount without being specific to a category like the others. “A lot of pain.”

“I’ve been doing very well in training.” Illumi nodded in affirmation.

Hisoka moved on to draw the present. With the boy’s youth, it was nearly the same length as his past.

“Travel to a new place. Fighting and money. Very similar to your dad’s but that’s to be expected.” He pulled the last few cards and saw the lover with a moon shortly after.

“You seem to be in love, but haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”

He glanced up in time to see Illumi’s eyes dart away from his, but the pink dusting across his pale face wasn’t so easy to hide. Before he could remember the pin that had sank into his arm so easily, Hisoka reached out and touched Illumi again. He brushed Illumi’s long hair, just as silken and soft as he’d thought, aside and tucked the strand behind his ear. Now he could see how red the tips of his ears were.

Hisoka’s chest swelled with delight.

“Would you like to know what happens next?” He asked.

Illumi didn’t meet his eyes, but he nodded. Hisoka drew the future row.

“This tower means something big is going to change in your life. Not for the better, I’m afraid. Coupled with the hearts…something in your family dynamic is going to change.”

Illumi’s face was still flushed, but he snapped his attention towards Hisoka, his eyes wide in an honest panic. “My mother is pregnant. You don’t think-”

“I can’t say whether the baby will die, but…this fortune is about you. I’m not sure if your little brother’s death would affect you as much…perhaps he’ll be the new favorite? Take your parents attention away from you?”

Illumi’s eyes softened and his lip curled in thought. “Maybe,” he conceded with a whisper.

Hisoka pointed to the next card. “You’re going to be strong, have many dead bodies. Comparable to your father even, maybe more. But I’m afraid you will suffer. Weakness. Doubt. You’re going to lose your way,” Hisoka gestured to the spades, “more than once. You will be in this state for a long time, I’m afraid.”

“But you said I complete a lot of assignments? That I’ll be as good as my father?”

Hisoka fussed with his lower lip, unsure how to get his point across to a person so clearly focused on the wrong thing, but decided he was in over his head in that regard and continued.

“You will find love. It’s deeply tied to the middle path.” He tapped the card in case Illumi was confused by its strange title. “So, I think when you find your lover, they will help you find balance in your life. You will be content, confident. I see fulfillment and harmony.”

“That’s good,” Illumi smiled. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but Hisoka didn’t mind. They were so lovely that it’d be a shame to lose any amount of them.

He picked up the cards, seeing once again the love he’d drawn for the present row. He glanced back at Illumi. There wasn’t any more of the blush from before. He was just considering how to bring it back when Illumi got to his feet. Hisoka followed his gaze and saw the large man from before approaching them from the east.

“Time to go,” he ordered, and Illumi rushed back to his side.

“Successful business?” Hisoka asked as he got to his feet. The man met his question with a scowl and walked away without a word. Illumi followed. Hisoka stood by the dry fountain, watching them leave, and was able to lock eyes with Illumi when he looked over his shoulder. Hisoka made sure to smile and wave at Illumi, who –after a furtive glance to his father— waved back.

---------------

Link to story on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079688

Link to creator/curator of hisoillu week prompts

@illumiszoldycks

(Sorry for all the spamming. I saw the prompts today and got really excited and sat down to write all day. I’m done though. Thanks for all your patience~)

[hisan-miren]

Redacted File

The First Date Pt 3

The two ate their meal in relative silence- although Mina did see fit to steal one of his sweet potatoes and quickly snatched it up before he could do anything.  He stared at her for a few seconds, completely flabbergasted (which was a hilarious look on him) before he snatched up her umeboshi (since she’d eaten all of her tempura.)  It quickly devolved into the two trying to steal even more of each other’s food and general tomfoolery and laughter after that.  They made sure to pick up anything they dropped or spilled in the chaos, knowing full well that Raios’ mother would thoroughly chew them out if they didn’t.  When the food (and cleanup) was finished, Raios loaded their tableware back on the tray to be taken away later, and the two moved to sit out on the walkway facing the garden.

“So, what comes after this?” Raios asked, half-grumbling.

“Well, I think it generally goes that you propose, I accept, and then we get married and live happily ever after,” Mina replied.

“I didn’t mean our relationship, you idiot!” Raios snapped, his face turning bright red.  “I meant this date!  I’m not exactly a fountain of knowledge when it comes to this!”

“Well-…”  Mina flopped over on her side, laying across Raios’ lap and causing him to panic very briefly, “we could always go to your roo-”

“Rejected,” Raios spat, a cold and angry demeanor taking back over.  “What is with you and my room anyways?  If you try to recommend it one more time, I’m seriously going to smack you.”

“Got it.  Won’t do it again,” she replied, a bit shocked by how genuinely angry he seemed to be at the mere idea of it.  Shocked, but not perturbed.  She’d try again next time.

“Pick something else.”  He still seemed pretty pissed, but his tone had lost a bit of its edge.

“… Isn’t this fine?”

“Huh?”

“Being like this,” she replied, motioning to their position.  “Or did you want to the one using my lap?” she teased.

“Hu- wh- No!  That’s not what I meant at all!” Raios spluttered, cheeks turning dark again. “And this isn’t what I meant! Aren’t people supposed to do things?!”

“This is doing something though,” Mina replied calmly. “And I am plenty satisfied to just stay like this and chat for a few hours.”

“My legs will fall asleep,” Raios complained.

“Then we can switch!  In an hour you can use my lap.”

“Somehow I get the sense that this isn’t exactly what usually happens on a first date.”

“Well yeah,” Mina replied.  “Usually, the boyfriend isn’t grounded.  We made the most of what we could, and it was fine.  I mean, we’re not breaking any records, but I don’t want to set our relationship to the pace of others’.”  Mina made herself comfortable again on his lap and stared up at him, starting yet another staring contest.  She was content to keep going too until Raios eventually sighed and leaned over.  She was so confused about what was going on that she didn’t realize what had happened until the sensation left her lips. She just stared up at him wide-eyed and quietly covered her mouth.  There was a silence and then she raised a finger.  “One more time.”

“Huh?”

“Do it again.  I wasn’t ready.”

“No,” he replied, seeming pretty adamant this time.

“Oh come on!”  She covered her face as she felt her cheeks start to actually physically burn. She kicked her feet against the wood floor and started to roll around in Raios’ lap, trying to remember not to let herself fall.  “Just one more!  Come on, please?!”

“I know you, it definitely won’t be ‘just one more’,” Raios replied flatly.

“You’re so mean!” Mina whined.

“Yup, I’m mean, horrible, awful- feel free to call me all the names you want, you’re not getting another one.”  Mina gave one last futile, dying groan of disappointment and laid flat on Raios’ lap again.

“I didn’t think you’d do it.”

“You underestimated me.”

“Clearly.”  Raios watched, slightly amused, as her face began to turn red again and she quickly tried to re-cover her face.  “Ughhhhh… Let’s just end it here for today. I don’t think I can function after that.”

“You sure?”

“Not at all, but I think I’m going to be completely useless the rest of the day.  Also my self-control just went in the garbage.”

“Huh?!  Your self-control?!” Raios asked.

“I’m gonna die.  I’m legitimately going to die.”

“You’re not gonna die from a kiss,” Raios ground out.

“I am so gonna die.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a drama queen.”

“And I didn’t realize you were such a tease!”

“Well there’s a lot more where that came from,” he replied, grinning smugly.  She looked up at him only to cover her face again.

“Okay, now I’m gonna die.”

“I’m not playing this game.”

“GREAT!  Because I’m already losing!”  Raios just sighed and leaned back while his girlfriend silently freaked out in his lap. “Ugh…  It should be illegal to be that hot…” Mina grumbled to herself.

“I’d be a lot more legal if you took off your rose-tinted glasses.”

“No thanks, I’m happy where they are.”

“You are just-…”  Raios gave a sigh that was somewhere between ‘annoyed’ and ‘exasperated’.

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘incorrigible’,” Mina replied cheekily.

“That’s definitely the word I was looking for.”

“Ready to switch yet?”

“We’re not switching,” Raios replied flatly. “You’ll just use it to kiss me.”

“You saw through it…” Mina grumbled, clicking her tongue and crossing her arms in irritation.  “Then at least give me your hand.  That’s the least you can do.”  She huffed and pouted until Raios eventually felt he had no other recourse but to give into her demands.  He sighed and picked one of his hands off the wooden floor and offered it to her. Mina’s demeanor immediately turned from sullen and dour to gleeful and bright.  Her two smaller hands immediately latched on, and her cheek quickly found its way into her palm.

“What in reverse world is so fun about this?” Raios grumbled. Mina’s thought process was completely beyond him most of the time, but he found this sort of behavior especially weird.  It wasn’t like this was the first time.  She’d done stuff like this to flirt with him even before they started going out, but he didn’t really understand this need for closeness she seemed to have.  He understood wanting to hold hands and be close, but hers seemed to border on outright cuddling.  He didn’t mind, but he didn’t quite get it either.  They sat in silence like that for a while; she spent time feeling out the callouses on his fingers and tracing the wrinkled creases of his palm like she was trying to memorize every inch of it.  A while passed like that without speaking, and eventually Mina sat up and chose to latch herself to Raios’ arm instead.  “I’ve been meaning to ask for a bit, but you’re the type that likes cuddling, aren’t you?”

“If I say ‘yes’, can we cuddle?” she asked hopefully.

“Absolutely not,” Raios replied flatly.  “What if one of my family walked by?  We’re in the garden.  At least pretend to have a bit of shame.”

“But if we weren’t somewhere with other people around?” she asked, eyes glinting with mischief.  

“…I’d think about it…” he replied quietly.

“Alright!” Mina cheered, pumping her fist.

“I didn’t say ‘yes’!” Raios snapped, a bit flustered.

“It’s just as good,” Mina replied.

They sat there and chatted for a while longer, continuing their game of pushing and pulling every now and then until the sun was halfway to the horizon. Raios looked up and judged that it was probably around 5:00pm.  Mina probably had to get home soon.

“Come on, get up,” Raios said, shrugging the arm that she was still very much latched onto.

“Don’t wanna,” Mina pouted.

“Get up,” Raios ground out.  “I gotta take you home.”

“I thought you were grounded,” Mina replied skeptically.

“You honestly think the old hag would allow me to not walk you home?”

“… Fair point.”  Mina reluctantly released him and stood up to stretch.  “We can work out the details of our next date on the way. I wonder where we should go~”

“Ever the opportunist,” Raios sighed, slowly getting up and working the pins and needles out.  The couple made their way over to the entryway, making sure to stop by the kitchen where Raios’ mother would be.  He popped his head in and got his mother’s attention.  She put down the dish she was using to taste the soup, a little surprised that her son had come to find her.

“What seems to be the problem?”

“I’m taking Mina home,” Raios said.

“You know you can’t leave the house, correct?”

“You would really have me not accompany her to ensure she gets home safely?” Raios growled.  Mina was a force of nature.  No one messed with her if they were trying to have a good and decent day.  But it was the principle of the matter.  Mrs. Minori’s placid face slowly morphed into a sly smile, and she turned back to the soup in front of her.

“If you’re not back in 30 minutes, I’m sending your sister after you.”

“I’ll come right back,” he replied quickly.  That was the last thing he wanted.  His sister would interrogate him the entire way back and drive him insane.  Dinner was already going to be bad enough, he didn’t need it to happen without the distraction of food (and he was sure their parents would conveniently ignore her jabs in an attempt to satiate their own curiosity.)  

“D’you get permission?” Mina asked.

“Yup, but I gotta be kinda quick otherwise aneki will be sent for me.  Being alone with her would be the most obnoxious thing in the world.”

“I’m not envious.”

“Must be nice being an only child.”  Mina just shrugged and started slipping her geta on.  Raios quickly followed, suit and the two left to go to her place.

“So, where should we go next time?” Mina asked.  

“A date on the mainland is a bit hard since it’d take most of the day to get there,” Raios mused, “but we might be able to get on a ferry to one of the nearby islands that has more to do.”  He looked over to find Mina pouting which completely bewildered him.  “What? Why are you making that face?”

“Those’re fine ‘n all, but I want something quieter,” she grumbled.

“So what, you just wanna hang out on the beach on the quiet side of the island or something?”  Her eyes lit up, and Raios once again came to the conclusion that there was no understanding his girlfriend.  He sighed in resignation.  “I guess that’s what we’ll be doing then.”  Mina clapped her hands and giggled in glee before once again latching onto his arm.  Raios didn’t even bother trying to get her off this time.  If someone saw them, then they saw them.  

It didn’t take long to arrive at Mina’s house, even with the awkward way she was hanging off him, and Raios stopped at the door.

“Alright, let go.  It’s time for you to go home.”  Mina grumbled under her breath and stubbornly clung to his sleeve.  “Come on, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“It’s too long…”

“It’s the day after tomorrow!” Raios snapped.

“I wish we could just skip to being married already,” Mina pouted, moving to grip the collar of his yukata.

“That’s gonna be a bit,” Raios replied, feeling a bit sheepish. “We’re not even old enough.”  Mina pouted, feeling disheartened when faced with the truth.  “Quit that. You’re being ridiculous.  At least consider for a moment the idea that you may be happier with someone else.”

“Not happening,” Mina growled at him.  “It’s definitely gotta be you.”  Then, Mina violently tugged on him pulling him downwards and caught him completely off guard.  The one Raios had given her had been soft and fleeting.  One of his many ways of gently telling her he loved her and appreciated her. The kiss Mina gave Raios was longer and firmer, and she didn’t even give him a chance to try and lead it.  When she finally let go of him, he covered his mouth with his arm and stumbled back, a violent blush covering his entire face and creeping down his neck.  Mina was almost sure she saw steam coming out of his ears too.

“YOU-!!”  Mina just flashed him a smug smile and stuck her tongue out at him.

“See you Monday~” Mina said, waving to him as she went inside, feeling like she’d set off a whole warehouse’s worth of fireworks.

[consumedkings-archive]

From the meta asks: 4, 7, 10, 20, and 22?

hi chy!!!! sorry this took so long omg but i’m so happy i got it!! <3 <3 under the cut!

 7 & 10 answered here!

4. share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

oh yeah okay alright forcing me to be positive??? about myself??? here is my favorite exchange to have written for the entirety of ancient names

---

“Muzzle your beast, poor Jacob’s scared I’ll fucking kill him.”

Not how he wanted this. Not like this. Fuck fuck fuck. “Elliot—”

A half-cocked grin split across Jacob’s face. He leaned forward, almost within grabbing reach of Elliot. “Yeah? You think you could do it, little girl?”

---

anyway the unresolved sexual tension of wanting to kill one another is my favorite thing to write and that’s that on that

20. tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?)

answered this here and also here but! a fun thing that only ONE person has told me they recognize is in the first chapter of WH, there is a particular sequence/nightmare dream where there’s a phrase used: have you been having strange dreams? this is actually a reference to one of my favorite like cryptic/unsolved mysteries, where someone went around portland posting flyers with that exact saying on it and a phone number to a land line that asked you to leave a message detailing your dream. here’s an article about it!

i am a horror girl at heart--i love the creeps and the heebie-jeebies, spent a lot of my youth reading incredible creepypasta stories (have you been on r/nosleep? there are some REMARKABLE horror writers in there) and so i have like this fountain of useless knowledge regarding strange occurrences, creepy ARGs, and unsolved mysteries. i try to replicate that feeling of being deeply unsettled in a lot of my writing and ancient names/the subsequent stories are definitely not exceptions to this.

22. do you reread your old works? how do you feel about them?

NO AND BAD. i’m just kidding (sort of). i do re-read some of my old stuff if i need to make a specific reference, especially because a lot of the time in my writing i tend to make callbacks to specific things (the last chapter of WH having a HUGE one). i want to make sure i get the wording down correctly even though it’s technically inaccurate to do so, because human memory is so spotty and unreliable, but!!! i do sometimes go back to read things that i have written to get in a better headspace for writing something as well, but it does make me uncomfy. i think my beginning of ancient names is incredibly weak and i can see, almost physically in the word count and how i wrote, where my confidence in elliot as a character and where i was going with the story changed, and it makes me want to go back and rewrite the whole first half knowing what i know now. LOL

[captmickey]

hi! once you get this you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly, then send this to ten of your favourite followers SPREAD POSITIVITY 💌😘

Eep! Okay, I can do this, let's see...

1 - I really love my hair when it gets extra curly because sometimes either the length or humidity weigh it down, but when its curly I'm delighted.

2 - I love what I'm doing with Three Adventurers. I know it's a fancomic, but it's something I wanted to see in media and am proud of myself for sticking with it.

3 - I love my heritage/history so far. Its been a rocky road with ups and downs but I'm glad of the me that came out and is continuing to grow.

4 - I like my sense of humor, and yes I do tend to laugh at some (not all) of my own jokes. I'm unapologetic about that.

5 - I love that I am a fountain of useless knowledge when it comes to games, shows and movies. It benefits no one, but I enjoy it.

[sebthesnipe]

The Morals of Evil

My Dearest Procyon

Other works by me (AO3)

Tumblr Master Post

First (Beginnings) / Previous / Next

TW: Idk what but... Read at your own risk and let me know if I need to add.

Logan was yanked from where he curled around himself atop his bench, hitting the ground with a solid thud.

He didn’t bother trying to fight. He knew how this went. It wasn’t the first time he had been dragged from his slumber by the brutes that worked for Noname. 

Two pairs of rough hands gripped him under the arms and dragged him up off the floor. He tried to stand, but weakness that had set in from hunger left his legs practically useless. 

The men paid no mind as they carried him out of the cell to be tortured once more. 

Despite his dread, Logan didn’t protest or whimper. No, this was expected. At least there was one good thing that came out of it: he’d get away from that bone chilling cold for just a little bit. 

…………………..

By the time Logan was tossed back into his cell, like a sack of potatoes fresh off the wagon, he wasn’t sure how long he’d been gone.

He didn’t bother to move off the frozen stone floor or wrap his clothing more tightly around himself. Everything hurt far too much. 

It must have been days. He had drifted in and out of consciousness throughout his time with Noname’s Confessor, but he wasn’t sure if that was from the pain or exhaustion. Logically, he knew that he wouldn’t die from this torture. Noname would send a healer soon enough to ensure that.

He groaned, shifting to relieve some of the weight on his dislocated shoulder, flopping onto his back and hissing from the whip lashes that still oozed. 

He peered up at the moss covered ceiling, his vision beginning to blur. What he wouldn’t give for an end to all of his suffering. 

The world began to fade.

He couldn’t give in. He couldn’t give Noname the information he was searching for. 

Suddenly, everything went black.

…………………………………

Logan huddled around himself, a small flame dancing between his fingers. 

He coughed weakly, curling closer around the little heat that the small flame produced, ignoring the sound of people milling past his small alley in the busy street. 

“Ah, there you are!” a silky voice came, causing Logan to glance up at the well dressed man. “I thought I sensed magic. Though, I have to say, finding someone so young is a surprise.” 

Noname bent low, offering out a hand to the young Logan, who shied away from the movement, obviously expecting to be struck. 

“Don’t worry, Kiddo,” Noname cooed softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. How about you come with me and we get you a nice meal and some warm clothes?” 

Logan eyed him suspiciously, but the mention of food had his stomach growling. 

“Come on now, I know you must be-”

“So this is how it happened,” Logan’s dream companion commented, appearing just over Noname’s shoulder. “It’s about time.”

Logan pushed himself to his feet, becoming aware of the dream just as he always did when the other man appeared. 

“Why are you so interested in my meeting with Noname, anyway?” Logan asked, brushing off the snow from his trousers. 

“You’re the oldest of his followers,” the violet eyed man pointed out, as he circled the unmoving man in question. “No one really knows anything about you, aside from the fact that you’re his seer.”

“Was his seer,” Logan corrected. “Now I’m nothing more than his prisoner.” 

“A seer that disobeyed him,” the companion commented, pulling himself up to sit on one of the crates. 

“With good reason,” Logan countered. Something tugged at his mind. There were so many pieces to this puzzle and yet he couldn’t put it together. Who was this man, what was his interest in Logan, and why did he seem so familiar?  

As if sensing Logan’s confusion, the companion waved his hand, quickly replacing it with the ever present apathy that accompanied these dreams. 

“I dunno,” the younger man said pointedly, “it seems like a prolonged amount of torture and your enevitable death would be reason enough not to disobey him.” 

“The things I’ve seen,” Logan replied, “They are reason enough to endure such treatment.”  He moved to study the younger face of his old friend. Noname had been quite handsome back then, with kind features and a warm smile. Logan couldn’t help but stare, just for a moment. The man before him no longer existed, that much was clear.

 The feeling of loss made his chest constrict painfully. 

“What did you see?” The dream companion asked, peering at Logan eagerly. 

Logan tensed at the question, his head suddenly beginning to pound. The dream around them shook violently, tossing his companion off of the crate with only the blanket of snow to cushion his fall. 

“Nevermind!” The fallen man cried, not having expected such a violent reaction from Logan. It appeared he’d have to ease his way into that particular topic. Luckily his dismissal seemed to work in calming Logan, or at least stop the dream world from collapsing around them.

 “And they call me temperamental,” the violet eyed man scoffed as he pulled himself to his feet, bushing off his dark cloak. “So, Noname found you. Then what?”

The image began to fade at the question. The unmoving version of Noname shimmered before dissolving into the snow, replaced by a large table inside  a crowded inn.

Logan turned towards the new scene, catching sight of Noname.He sank down on an empty bench as his old friend placed a steaming bowl of stew in front of him.

“So, tell me about yourself, Kiddo,” Noname smiled, sitting across from him. “Where are your parents?”

Logan didn’t answer as he watched him, studying his features. His heart ached for this man, just as it had done before. Not the man that currently held him prisoner, but the man before him; the one that had pulled him off the streets and offered him safety and warmth.

“Whoa! Slow down! You’re going to make yourself sick,” Noname laughed. Logan noticed for the first time that the bowl of stew seemed to be emptying itself out, sloshing over the sides as if someone was currently ravishing it. 

Noname turned to call for another bowl before the image froze.

“Seeing him like this is creepy,” the  companion commented, suddenly at Logan’s shoulder once more. “He seems so…” the man grimaced, “.… Smiley.”

“He was like that back then,” Logan nodded, giving his own soft smile.

“When did he turn?” The companion asked, erasing Logan’s smile instantly.

The scene dissolved into another new dream. 

Noname stood  perched on a large pedestal built in the center of a crowded courtyard A light shone from his chest and the crowd of people shuffled closer and closer. 

Logan brushed past them as they parted to make way. Soon he stood at the base of a large flowing fountain. 

Noname smiled down at Logan. He bent to cup his hands into the water and offered them out for the man to drink. Logan obeyed. Noname’s shine dimmed just slightly as Logan’s own incandescence appeared. When Logan stepped back into the crowd, another man stepped forward. Noname bent, scooping water before offering it out. His glow faded again.The process repeated. 

“Sharing a source of magic doesn’t turn someone evil,” The companion commented, pulling Logan’s attention.

“Noname is not evil,” Logan chided with a glare. 

“How can you say that after everything he’s done to you?” the other man demanded with confusion. 

“Evil is a construct that keeps humanity in what we consider a moral line, but it is not a force or a being. Evil is an act which we consider bad,” Logan lectured. “A person does not turn evil.”

“Whatever you say,” the companion scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “My question still stands.”

“If you are trying to understand what made him who he is, perhaps you should understand this,” Logan sighed, obviously not too enthused by the line of conversation. “If a man murders another in order to save the lives of the ones he cares about, does that make him evil?”

“Well…” the companion mumbled, obviously considering the scenario, “no.”

“And yet, he has still committed murder,” Logan replied.

“Yes, but for a good reason,” the companion countered.

“So, an inherently evil act can be considered good if the reasons are justified?”

“I… suppose so,” The companion shrugged,  “I don’t think I understand where this is going.” 

“Of course you don’t,” Logan retorted, earning a glare. “Noname was a good man who cared greatly for those who found themselves in need. He was willing to share himself with each and every one of them until-”

“Until there was nothing left,” The companion realized, peering over his shoulder at the now dimly lit man who still scooped water. 

Logan nodded. “If you give too much of yourself away, it can be hard to continue to see the good in the world. You lose sight of what is important.Instead of doing what’s right or good, you fight to support others.” Logan nodded towards the shadow of the man in question. “You starve for power and will do anything it takes to obtain it because without it you lose the ones you’ve struggled to care for and that…” He paused, shaking his head, the image obviously paining him. “Well, that is worse than death itself.”

Silence fell for a moment as Logan’s companion took the words in. 

“You’re telling me that Noname does what he does out of love?” He scoffed. “That’s a bit hard to believe.”

“No,” Logan huffed in mirthless amusement. “No, I’m telling you that is how it started. He’s since lost sight of that. All he knows now is the thirst for power.”

“Which is why you disobeyed him?” 

“In part,” Logan nodded, turning away from the scene, unable to watch any longer. “I am a seer. I’ve seen many things. Some of which has proven to me that my decision is one I doubt I will ever regret.”

“So, you saw the outcome of his next endeavor?” The companion asked. 

“I saw a few outcomes, yes.”

“So, what the big deal. Why not tell him?”

Logan pinned him with a flat stare. “Knowledge is power. You should keep that in mind. That’s what these dream interrogations are all about, aren’t they?” Logan asked, feeling no small amount of pride at the surprised look the other man gave. “Yes, I knew what was happening despite your attempts to keep my mind clouded. I’ve seen what Noname will have to do to gain the power he seeks. I’ve seen how he can accomplish it and how he can lose it. Noname knows this. He also knows that the likelihood that he will obtain that power without my assistance is very slim. More importantly I have seen the outcome of what will happen if Noname succeeds.” 

“So, what if-”

“No!” Logan snapped, taking a step forward, his eyes starting to shimmer with an eerie blue light. “Let me be clear, no matter how hard you try, no matter how much you pry, no matter how much flesh they tear from my body, I will NOT help him achieve his goals! Noname does not care what happens IF he manages to take the power he wants. He only cares that he succeeds in obtaining it. And if you have any self-preservation or care for your fellow man, you will see to it that he never does!”

Virgil staggered back as Logan’s power engulfed his own, bringing the younger man’s name to the forefront of Logan’s mind. Yes, He remembered him! Virgil had barely been older than Logan had been when he was taken in. He had-

“I’m not a coward!” Virgil yelled angrily, straightening. “I’m not the one  wasting away in a cell  because he’s afraid of power!” 

“Ha!” Logan laughed coldly, “I am willingly marching towards my own death and you think that is cowardice! I would hate to see your definition of bravery,” 

“Don’t you get it?!” Virgil snapped in response, though he found himself sinking back at the sound of Logan’s laughter. “The more powerful Noname gets the more powerful we all do!” 

Logan’s amusement evaporated instantly, anger flooding him. The dreamscape began to shake just as it had done before, making Virgil stumble to keep his balance. 

“You’re just like the rest of them.” Logan growled, “So power hungry. So selfish.” Logan’s presence seemed to grow. At first the sense was something intangible, like the an empath could feel another’s distress. Then, Logan’s physical form grew, doubling in size in a matter of seconds.

“I am not doing this for my sake you imbecile! I’m doing it for him! For you! For all of y-”

Virgil snapped, his fingers sliding against one another, the sound echoing in Logan’s mind.

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@hiddendreamer67 @nightashes @aequinoctiale