DO NOT MAKE ME LOVE YOU

Medusa || Octavia Henry || 29 || New Olympians || Transportation

[aureacor]

TAMINO AMIR

HERE you can find #113 100px gif icons of TAMINO AMIR from a VARIOUS INTERVIEWS. They were born in 1996 making them 25 years old. They are BELGIAN, EGYPTIAN, & LEBANESE please cast them accordingly. All gifs were made by me from scratch, please do not repost them.

Please LIKE / REBLOG if you plan on using the gifs, or you find them helpful.

CW: none.

[angemorose]

Tamino-Amir Moharam Fouad (400x640)

request / anonyme

please credit silmarillion or ange morose.

[justrpmemesandmusings]

Send me a faceclaim and I’ll tell you who they’d be in my muse’s life as a NPC

[medusaivatco]

[SEBASTIAN]

It’s particular work, his line of work - particular, meticulous. Personal. As much as Sebastian didn’t mind a visitor or two, he did like to know when - and why - they were coming. A knock at his front door and a glance at the security camera has him in a mood - not a bad one, per-say, but friendly would also serve as a poor modifier. Nonetheless, he stands and makes his way out of the laboratory he’d made for himself on the second floor of the formidable structure and down to the door.

“I do hope your reasoning for paying a visit at such an - inconvenient - time is of some importance.” He says, not altogether unkind as he cracks the door open, surveying his guest with an understandable wariness.

What welcomed him at the door was a flash of teeth and a flickering tongue - both were sharp and pointed. “Well.” It was something between a hiss and a purr buried under each other and interlaced with one another in her tone. “I’m important.” The edge of her lips lifted in the slightest to expose more gum and more white that, despite it’s animalistic hint, was meant to lay somewhere between friendly and intimidating. “And that makes my visit... important. Don’t you think.”

The tilt of her head was paired with the rhetorical question to make an emphasis, to make an uncertainty, to make the air heavy. Iapetus was a man of ghost stories told around the table in the basement of Nyra. Intrigue was to say the least. Despite his name being muttered and spit around her ears, Octavia’s eyes were missing out - she’d decided to change that.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

[onceland]

[medusaivatco]

✍

Your eyes can’t adjust.

Not right away at least, and for the brief second there isn’t anything except swallowing, black empty, your hands fly out to the side. Luckily, she’s there, and they meet the bottom of a denim jacket. Without hesitation they knot themselves there. The warmth of the hand that covers over yours, as soft and light as it is, does little to bring you comfort and its not until the living room, lit now only by street lights from outside the window, finds a way to help your young, rounded eyes acclimate to it and you see her face that you feel the pit in your stomach soften. She rubs her thumb into the back of your hand, but as willow budded as it is, it’s her smile and the lull in her voice that finally brings you peace.

“Its okay, honey, I’ll pay the electricity in a few days when I get the money. You don’t have to worry.”

[xxmoved-blog]

Memory Meme

[edisonvilensky-blog]

xxmoved-blog:

Past experiences help shape who we are currently, how we see the world. Send in a symbol and I’ll write a drabble of one of my muse’s memories. 

❥ - a childhood memory

♣ - a fading memory

✂ - a vivid memory

✖ - a repressed memory

✈ - an eye-opening memory

✤ - a memory that involves romance/love

☤ - a memory of death/loss

✍ - a memory of their mother

☽ - a memory of their father

✌ - a memory of a relative

↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened

♚ - a memory of something paranormal

✓ - a sexual memory

♬ - a friend/best friend memory

[medusaivatco]

[RICHARD]

Richard was under no pretense that the members of the rivaling gangs were foolish, he had enough wisdom to know that neither Syrus nor Marco were stupid. They had, after all, managed to keep Olympus afloat despite tearing it into two as he had witnessed over the past half decade. Whoever had decided to approach him was brave, he had to commend them, but he also knew that they were probably prepared to jump into a fight if the need arose, assuming they weren’t actually another party goer.

Who he hadn’t expected was Octavia, however. It was almost difficult not to hear the reputation she had built up, a torrid romance with Zeus reduced to nothing after Hera’s discovery and an obvious bitterness that had built up within her. Medusa suited her, steely eyes and set jaw underlined by all the things she had lost. Richie almost felt bad for her, but there was no place for pity in a war, especially when they were supposed to be enemies. 

His lips twitched into a small smile as she referred to his ego, chocolate eyes flickering over to the woman next to him before settling again towards the horizon. “Careful, someone might actually confuse your words with you having a sense of humor and we can’t have that damaging your reputation, can we?” He replied, though they weren’t spoken in jest. His words were airy, as if he were lost in thought.

“Your friends are all back there, but you’re choosing to spend your time with someone who threatens to destroy everything you know. Why are you here, exactly?” Richard questioned, getting straight to the point. He wasn’t the type to beat around the bush unless there was something in it for him and there certainly wasn’t when it came to her intentions.

Threatens to destroy everything you know.

Octavia was all too familiar with the concept of destruction. It seemed everything at her back was left in rash ruin, crumbles of stone or piles of ash, and none of it had ever been on purpose. The Midas touch was an ambiguous myth - some took it glass half empty, poor Midas left all alone, some took it glass half full, lucky bastard surrounded by gold. She left the glass in shards at her feet, the whole thing empty and the whole thing torn to shit. Octavia was all too familiar with the concept of destruction, because her whole life she’d been that destruction.

Her eyes were misty for only a hair of a second, blink and you would’ve missed it, and without a long enough second having passed to take a breath of air, Octavia finally turned her gaze towards him, as classically sharp and narrow as ever, and while it was evident that his tone had been lacking humor, she made sure her voice was drenched in it’s bitter cousin, sarcasm. “Me? A reputation?” It was gasped, over-dramatized shock.

Octavia’s gaze had the power to be just as perceptive as it did steely, and it was clear that Richard had no intentions of playing games with her. Straight to the point. Serious in the face. No joking tone, no glinting eyes. Medusa planned to strike his opposite, to be coy and elusive, offer nothing but grins and games. She rounded on him, turning from the ocean to cock her head at him and dawn a slow growing smile.

“You have such a cute ass. I couldn’t help myself from following it all the way down here. It’s irresistible.”

[medusaivatco]

[FREDDIE]

“Aw, but it’s so much less fun if we plan it. I’d rather just have you punch me organically. Or vice versa.” Boredom was a good motivator of trouble. If there was anything that Freddie had learned over the years, it was that sometimes the most fruitful adventures came out of boredom. He wasn’t bored, per se–he was pleasantly buzzed, and there more than enough people to talk to at the party. Still, he felt as if something was missing. It was just a bit too tame.

“I feel like we can do better,” he continued, setting his drink down and surveying the crowd before them. “I mean, with this many people? The opportunities are endless. We could totally just, like, start punching each other, if that’s what you’re in to,” he said that with a slight smirk, “or we could…I dunno…get other people to? Stuff like that’s more fun to watch. Or maybe something less violent. Start up a dance circle. Shoot off the fireworks early. Get a millionaire to invest in a fake start up. Like I said, endless opportunities.”

“Oo” Octavia gave a small cringe and a shake of her head as she slid herself up into a chair. “You had me up until ‘less violent’.” Of course, she was joking. The thought of having someone to ruffle feathers and shake the boat with was enough to spark Medusa’s interest. Octavia was here to establish connections, to serve Syrus and New Olympus, to rekindle old and spark new relationships with useful members of New York City. Medusa had gotten tired of that game over an hour ago.

“The fireworks bit sounds tempting, but I don’t think that’s.... enough.” She was quick to follow up, purposefully over dramatizing what she said next, dousing it in sarcasm. “Not to insult you, or anything.” But then she continued, as if tossing the suggestions he’d offered around in her head. “And the dance circle, I just, it’s not exciting? I don’t want to assume or anything, but I can’t imagine how anyone could find that a thrill.” The smile that was itching underneath her lips was one of amusement for herself, for her jests at him, and it reflected in her eyes, the tease and the amusement. “The start-up ploy would be fun though. Too bad I’m sick of talking to all these yuppies. No, I’m partial to just sticking with the punching. Simple and sweet.”

By now the grin had erupted full fledged, flashing sharp teeth and tongue. “Octavia Henry”

[medusaivatco]

[YASMIN]

Perhaps the worst thing about it all was that Octavia could see her drenched head to toe in fear. That’s what got to her the most, how easily Octavia could get past whatever bullshit defenses she put up for herself, and tear it down with a single smirk or knowing glance. Her godmother would be so embarrassed if she knew, but Yasmin broke out into a cold sweat whenever Medusa crept beside her. There weren’t a lot of Olympians that intimidated her, but Octavia was made from a different sort of cloth.

The last thing Yasmin wanted to do was talk to her. What the hell would they talk about? Did Octavia know that she was up to something? Was she suspicious of how she’d been going out of her way to get closer to Syrus? Or was she just… messing with her? Yasmin figured it was just the latter, but couldn’t let her guard down easily. Who knows what she really had up her sleeve. “I’m feeling very… patriotic,” Yasmin said in a voice she hoped sounded convincing, and even went as far as to make direct eye contact in an attempt to not look too guilty. Though perhaps doing so just made it easier for Octavia to pinpoint her fear. “I mean, you wouldn’t think that a pescetarian could have fun at a 4th of July party, but there’s a lot of great meat-free dishes here. They must’ve gotten a great caterer. Have you tried the stuffed mushrooms yet? You totally should, they’re really tasty.” And get far away from her, while she was at it.

If only she knew.

Octavia’s arrogance and self-absorbed nature was not only going to be her downfall, but that of her most esteemed colleague. Maybe if she wasn’t so wrapped up in herself, in the way she made Yasmin’s palms sweat, or the way that made her feel powerful and, more than, amused - maybe if she wasn’t so disgustingly... her, Octavia would notice that the reason for all of Yas’s nerves were not because of her, but because of what she was planning to do to Syrus and all of New Olympus.

“Really? I didn’t peg you for having that much.... zest for America” The eyes she cast over Yasmin were scrutinizing for no other reason than to unsettle her. “let alone for all of this richy rich type deal.” Meeting her eyes was a real treat for Octavia, to cast her most judgemental and knowing stare in an attempt to rattle all the defense and self-assurance Yasmin had out of herself.

Octavia let the comments about the mushrooms and catering prompt a nod from her, a light smile, cordial and friendly just like this conversation was fake supposed to be. “I’ll have to grab some on my way out.” Was what she offered, making it clear Octavia had no intentions of dipping out of this conversation anytime soon.

And then, Octavia acted like something hit her, like there was a thought that she’d forgotten that had just come back to her and she let her hand come out to lightly tap Yasmin on the arm. “Oh my god, how rude of me.” It was almost gasped, and while the smile given after was meant to be settled and friendly, it had serpents underneath “How’s Gwen?”

[medusaivatco]

[ARTHUR]

@medusaivatco

Arthur’d definitely had fun that night; let himself lose it in the fast paced blur of the party. But by the time he’d dredged back to the parking lot, he felt more than ready to leave. Night had rendered every part of his body tired, eyes burning with the effort of being open for so long. — But even that was not enough to keep him from being ridiculous. - Octavia’s car was easy to pick out of a crowd. And the idea came to him like a stroke of lightning, jolting his bones enough to drive all the way out of McDonalds and then back again. Ridiculous. But Arthur had trademarked ridiculous long ago. He was making royalties off of it now.

“I was thinking,” he hollered, as soon as he spotted her across the lot. He rested comfortably on the trunk of her car, taking care not to set off any alarms as he sat there. “You must’ve worked up quite the appetite with all that witty banter you were pushing earlier.” A knowing grin stretched his lips; holding up the white and red bags of pure goodness. —  “You’re not vegetarian, right?” As if Arthur hadn’t planned for that too; a large order of fries burning hot at the bottom of the bag.

Tonight had taken a few turns that weren’t expected. This was supposed to be business, Octavia was turning over a new leaf and yet as soon as the chance to turn back to old habits was offered, suddenly business took a back seat. A bit more than tipsy, and reasonably high from the pair of drugs her and Julian had gotten themselves into, Octavia had decided to call it a night. No more business was going to be done here.

It was mid-way down the stairs that a familiar voice tapped into the haze that was glossing over her eyes and mind, also something that was familiar. “You think I’m witty?” Octavia feigned being flattered, lifting a hand to her chest as if shocked. It was with a semi sloppy grin she came to a stop by her trunk and ,without any of the care he was putting into not setting off her car alarm, hoisted herself up beside him.

“A vegetarian?” The laugh was heavy, but not big enough to throw her head back. Instead she just looked over at him and gave him a once over before a smirk much sharper than the messy one offered before slipped onto her lips. “I could eat you alive.”

[medusaivatco]

[JULIAN]

With some people, it was easier to float on the surface, take everything at face value. Octavia happened to be one of those people, and though Julian, at times, found himself wondering what had turned her into Medusa, but that was a path Julian wasn’t quite ready to walk down. Not yet, anyway.

“Tavi,” He greeted her back, feigning innocence and trying to ignore the lack of space between them and her less-than-subtle threat. “Ever so charming. Not drowning sounds real good to me right now, actually.” And he certainly did not jump at Octavia’s sudden change in tone, only almost stumbling back into someone else.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying when you’re in a good mood?” He raised his brows in half-jest. In a mob filled with hitmen and other various scary individuals, Octavia constantly seemed to be the one person in his life Julian was simultaneously fond and scared of. After looking around to make sure nobody was paying attention to them, he dropped his voice to a much lower level and motioned Octavia to get closer.

“Well, I’ve got two joints and a bag of blow in this,” He lifted his shirt up for a second and pulled down his swimming trunks just enough to reveal a secret pocket on the inside, “thing. And don’t worry. I showered this morning.”

“Oh Julian, don’t you know flattery will get you no where?”

She referenced his ‘terrifying’ comment, and despite her dismissal there was a charmed smile on her lips. Julian was fun to play with, to push and pull like he was on the end of a rope, first friend and then someone who might kill you. Honestly, Octavia wasn’t sure if she actually would, kill him that is, but it was always a possibility.

That being said, she did enjoy his company - especially when that company included such benefits as the one Julian just flashed to her. The grin she flashed in return was somewhere between pleased and devious. “But that will.” And then she gave him a once over to make it unclear whether she was referencing the drugs he’d just offered or the bare skin he’d exposed in doing so.

“So” Octavia mused, cocking a brow and her head at the same time. “Are you feeling ballsy enough to do this here? Or are the boys proportional to your arms.”

[medusaivatco]

arthxrs:

Arthur had tough moments. Situations between a rock and a hard place, that demanded the best of his judgement or otherwise hell to pay. Rats in his corner; the occasional person he wanted badly to let in but didn’t. And he did well. He always did well. Mostly credited to the fact that the man really wasn’t one to give the benefit of the doubt. Suspicion was a plague, and he’d sooner eradicate a threat and be wrong than let it be his downfall. Panic. That’s what it was, in a complex and well framed form. Arthur was prone to panicking.

Although, Octavia was turning out to be surprisingly good natured for the moment. But Arthur knew that wasn’t a guarantee of anything. He distrusted the calm before the storm almost as much as the actual thing. It felt like an insult; being led into feeling peace just before sheets of rain and lightning come to tear down everything that you know. That is why Arthur brings up sex. To distract from the bile in his throat, give his hands something productive to do. And if Octavia wanted to keep him around, if only temporarily, she might be less inclined to say anything. So he welcomed the hand on his thigh, unsubtle in showing the broad smirk that graced his features.  

But almost as soon as Octavia had entered his space, she’d pulled back again - rendering Arthur disappointed. And perhaps a little breathless.

‘They do say seeing is believing.’ he wanted to say, because even at the best of times, Arthur did not take rejection well. But with a circumstance so delicate, he thought it better to drop and pick new tactics, as free flowing with his approaches as Octavia was with her quips. “Well my door’s always open, if you’re interested.” he chose instead, after a beat. Though it was abundantly clear that Octavia already knew that to be true. - His gaze had settled into her again; admiring more than studying this time. He was regarding her as a being, one that was turning out to be quite dynamic, and interesting to be around. They would’ve been friends, Arthur was sure, under different circumstances. Better ones. 

He would’ve lost himself in that thought, if not for the beckoning hand a couple yards back from her. Senator something or the other. Arthur had met him taking shots. “ — I think… I’m being pulled away.” he said, squinting to make sure. And then after a beat, drew himself to a stand. “Good to see you, Octavia.” Arthur said. Simple. Earnest. He squeezed her knee as he went, a gesture of tenderness more than a come on. (Why, he did not know). And he floated back towards the party like a ghost; uncertain more than anything, but strangely at peace.

“I won’t be.” The smile was lighter than her usual, and when she slid her gaze his way it was unclear whether or not the statement was true.

Disappointment and relief was a combination that Octavia was not familiarized with. It was as much sour and heavy as it was alleviating and cool. As Medusa, she was accustom to fits of heat on exposed neck, smacks of rocks at the backs of her knees, feelings that, despite being just feelings, were almost tangible. This was not a feeling like that.

Where she had just spent the last handful of minutes acting the tide, pulling and pushing Arthur back and forth like a piece of driftwood with seeming uncertain in regards to where she wanted him, Octavia was sure that she had decisiveness in regards to where she stood with him. And that was, at a distance. An arms length, safe from giving her more chances to ruin him. That was, of course, until he had to leave.

It was going to be relieving, not to have to continuously ward him off of her, have to keep him from making the same mistakes in being vulnerable with someone dangerous as she had countless times in her youth. It was going to be relieving, not to have to feel like she was betraying Syrus every second she spoke with him and wasn’t taking tactical advantage. It was a good thing, him leaving, because it took a weight off she was starting to accumulate by being around him, by feeling like she had to shelter someone. And yet, when she watched him start to stand, Octavia couldn’t help but taste something sour in her mouth.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you mean that.” Was what she chided over her shoulder, and though she didn’t turn her gaze to follow him as he went past her, her eyes did fall to the knee he squeezed just after he released it. Too soft. She thought, and the way her head gave a small shake matched the expression that had fallen across her face. Now all she felt was worry.

[medusaivatco]

[RYAN]

Ryan leaned against the bar, twisting her hair around her finger as she talked the bartender into giving her something a bit better than something that would give her a taste of what she imagined was the average college partier experience. There could only be so much expected out of a beach party serving drinks in red solo cups, but she thought she might as well give it a try. She half expected a lacrosse player to be summoned from the circle of Natty Lites she saw on a table by the bar. 

The bartender had finally given in and moved away to find something interesting when she heard a voice by her side. Glancing to the side, she gave her new neighbor a quick once over. She gave the older woman a sharp smile, “Not my kind of foreplay, but I have always believed in trying anything once if the offer looks like you.”

She took her own drink from the bartender before turning to face the other woman completely. “Especially, if the offer looks like you.”

For a moment her expression turned to stone - still and nonfluctuating from where it had been left after finishing her offer with one edge of her mouth lifted in an infant of a smirk and her eyes narrowed a hair. And then it erupted. Head tossing back, hand coming up to rest at her chest, Octavia lost herself in thunderous laughter that she worried would knock her off her feet.

It was dramatic, over the top, and went on for a moment longer than it should have before Octavia partially bent forward and rested her elbows on the bar as if out of breath before turning her eyes back to the girl and her drink. She was young, and sure there was an allure to the sharpness in her smile but it was one that Octavia knew better than to touch, even if she didn’t know what name this girl dawned and what party she belonged to. There would’ve been a time where Medusa would’ve jumped on an opportunity like this, would’ve made a remark just as sly and flirtatious as she had, but as much of a party as this was meant to be - Octavia found herself looking more towards work than play.

“I’m charmed.” Was all she said before leaning off the counter top to extend a hand for shaking. “Octavia Henry”

[medusaivatco]

[AL]

        violin case strapped to their back,  they make their way through the crowd,  carefully avoiding drunken party-goers and sidestepping puddles of spilt liquor.   a fiasco of an event such as this one is far from their scene,  but they’ll make do for now  —  if nothing else,  this is a decent opportunity to survey the guests.   they’ll likely someday be either clients or targets,  though al doesn’t have much of a preference as to which category anyone might fall into.   it’s all much the same to them at this point.

        they settle after some time in a seat not too far from the bar,  though they’re clearly dressed wrong for this beach occasion.   sure,  they have a pair of swim trunks somewhere  —  or,  rather,  they could have gone to target at any time to get a pair  —  but jeans are so much more pleasant.   if they’re going to remain at this bash for more than an hour,  they may as well do so without being in discomfort.

        a voice that’s only vaguely familiar sounds from far too close,  and they turn towards its source.    “ why not both? ”    an innocent reply spoken quietly,  though their voice cuts through the nearby noise.   the benefit of being so near,  they suppose.    “ i could use a drink,  and it looks like you could,  too. ”

Not enough time had passed for Octavia to truly handle looking Ares in the face.

Sentiment was a concept she seldom let take hold of her, and as unimportant as she wanted a name to be, or as unimportant as she told herself the sex with Dante had been, Octavia still couldn’t handle meeting their eyes. Maybe that why, when they spoke, she was quick to cast her gaze in the direction of the shelves on liquor behind the bar.

“Does it look like I could use a punch in the face too?” Octavia half tossed them a smile, but without the eye contact that she was so wildly avoiding, her voice and expression lacked it’s usual conviction to land the quip. It was unlike her, to be so subdued and almost nervous even.

She was sure it was something they were tired of, having people tip toe around them because of who their name used to belong to, who’s spot they were taking, who’s life they were living. But, it’s not like she could be mad at them, as much as Octavia would’ve preferred that over thinking she saw a ghost every time the word “Ares” was spoken around her.

Still, without the flames and stone, Octavia was cold. After all, without Dante, Ares was a name that belonged to new Olympus - and it was easy for her to be angry at that.

[medusaivatco]

[RAFAEL]

Rafael was feeling rather jumpy without any weapons on him. He was clad in nothing more than a pair of swim trunks, showing off his muscled torso. Yet, it was the lack of knives, guns, anything that left him feeling exposed, rather than the ample skin baking under the hot summer sun. Unsure how to interact with the others, Raf stayed by the bar, nursing his beer and watching the beautiful and wealthy around him. 

Noticing another person drinking alone, Raf gave them a courteous nod. 

“These parties are fucking exhausting, aren’t they?” he asked, hoping to have a partner to bitch with. “All of these rich fucks expecting you to kiss their ass.” 

Octavia had settled herself at the end of the bar solo after a brief altercation with someone in the food line. Apparently it wasn’t polite to use your fingers to pick up the buns and while she would’ve liked to think that maybe if it wasn’t so hot out, and maybe if these shoes didn’t hurt so much, and maybe if being around all these over privileged assholes didn’t piss her off so much, she wouldn’t have threatened to break their fingers, she probably still would have.

Being so wrapped up in her grumbling and brooding, Octavia didn’t notice the other a few seats over until they spoke, but then she couldn’t do anything but notice them. Her eyes snapped straight upwards because that voice, it was one that bordered familiarity and belonging to that of a stranger. His face wasn’t the same, but how could she have expected it to be with over ten years having past since she had seen it.

For a moment, Octavia was silenced, something that didn’t happen often, and it was her eyes that did the work, scouring over every inch of him just to make sure before she spoke.

“I thought you would’ve grown out of your whiny phase by now.”

[medusaivatco]

📱 !!

What ringtone my muse has set for yours: This

What contact photo my muse has set for yours: This

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts: I don’t think the way he texts bothers her as much as the frequency with which he texts like I think when he doesn’t answer right away she gets nervous which is really hypocritical but oh well

How quickly my muse responds to your texts: Probably forgets to answer like half the time and most of her texts to him are “shit, my bad” unless something is wrong bc then that shit is immediate

How often our muses text: a couple times a week I feel like Octavia would make up an excuse to text him just to check in and make sure he’s ok and is safe but like she would never let on thats what she’s doing its more just like “can u pick me up fries on your way over.” and then “oh shit, sorry that was for someone else” like only to make sure he’ll answer to confirm he’s alive

How often our muses call: seldom because Octavia is trying not to get Too Close like shes just here to keep an eye at a distance but then I also feel like he might be a go to call if something bad happened like if there was an issue in the gang world and Octavia thought he might be danger she would probably call to make sure, again, that he wasnt dead.

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: probably? and also probably not? like yes bc she’s trying not to encourage their friendship too much but also no bc she’d want to be sure he wasnt in trouble.

Last text sent from my muse to yours: “I found your sock in my car. Lmk if you want me to drop it off.”