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nasuversekinkmeme · 2 years ago

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Weekly roundup: prompts

Kara no Kyoukai

Shiki Ryougi using the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception for mundane purposes.

Tsukihime

incest tw, ntr, Shiki/Kohaku explicitly framed as them cucking Hisui and Akiha

Kohaku and Hisui taking drugs together to deal with the Difficulties.

Hisui makes a horrifying discovery about the true nature of the "robots" that are named after her and look suspiciously like her. But on the bright side, it looks like Hisui #47 has more sisters than she thought.

Worried about Shiki's health after he's been bedridden for a couple of days, Akiha is told by Kohaku that Shiki'd contracted a terminal case of sugondeese. Akiha doesn't get the joke and goes around trying to find anyone who can help in complete earnestness.

Fate/Stay Night

smut, EMIYA gets fingerblasted by Artoria while getting his fat slutty tits milked for weeks on end.

Emiya "Ah yes I choose to go by no name instead of my actual name because I hate my name I MEAN FOR TACTICAL REASONS TACTICAL ONES" Shirou has her egg forcibly cracked.

ntr, Saber/Issei framed as both of them cucking Shirou.

EMIYA getting brainwashed and forcefemmed, becomes clingy and dependent to the perpetrator (maybe a master with bigger physique, any gender is fine) AAAHHH i really want to fill this myself but just typing this makes me really embarassed

smut, Fourth Holy Grail War Servant Orgy expressly framed as cucking the Masters and the Holy Grail War itself.

smut, All the Cus show up and consensually gangbang Shirou to death.

smut, guro, Sakura cuts off Shirou's legs, slices his belly open, smashes his testicles before rebuilding them with magic and then proceeds to clone herself so that she could have an ero-guro gangbang with the one she loves more than anything else.

smut, Cock worship feat. Saber's micropenis. Doesn't matter who the worshipper(s) is.

smut, Mordred fucking Guinevere with her giant cock while Artoria watches it while she is tied to the wall, crying with her pathetic micro penis exposed while her wife screams in pleasure

Merlin gives Artoria a micro penis.

We need more of that EMIYA Archer/Saber Artoria goodness, no preference on if its fgo/fsn/fha or fluff or smut as long as Saber loves him for the man he is rather than the boy he was.

smut, Might I ask for Saber and Rin having what starts out as slow tender wedding night lovemaking, and what ends up being Saber breeding Rin hard and fast, because however much they love each other, Rin is impatient, and Saber is needy.

Fate/Zero

a prompt about Iri, Saber and Kiritsugu expressly framed as cucking but nobody can figure out WHOS GETTING CUCKED. (its none of them, theyre all just morons)

I would like some fluff with Iri and Saber as married with Illya and Shirou as their children. Kiritusugu still visits and he stays with the kids during weekends and half of summer vacations, any further details is up to the author

Prisma Illya Kaleid Liner

vamp illya biting miyu, sfw.

Fate/Apocrypha

Sieg is literally cardboard. No questions asked.

smut, Problem: Thanks to the legends about his prowess, Astolfo's dick is big enough that he can't actually get it fully hard without passing out under normal circumstances; he fucks like a champion when possible, but the energy needed is too much for most to provide. Solution: Well, Sieg was made to be a magical energy battery, after all...

Fate/Extra

Hakuno and Rin in any context where they're not doomed by the narrative.

smut, Via some magecraft fuckery Nero's body temporarily changes into that of her evil alternate universe counterpart (mobile 3rd ascension draco) and her wives Hakunon and Tamamo try very hard not to spontaneously combust from lust on the spot

smut, Tamamo no Mae takes advantage of her shapeshift skill, grows a dick, and knots her Master.

Fate/Grand Order

the last scene of Lord Melloi II Case Files where Waver talks with Iskandar in his dream, except its Gudako and Romani

Guda + his partner where they are doomed by the narrative, angst

Olga in her last moments after defeating ORT looks at Ritsuka, she remembered, she remembered everything, she finally realized who she was, before becoming a beast, but its too late, again she is about to disappear and lose everything she worked so hard for

Since all hope is lost for Sita this time around I would like someone to find Rama collapsed (either drunk or just out of depression) and lead him back to his room. Some reminiscing on his wife if possible

Smut, Draco seeing Hakunon after so long shows affection the only way the beast of depravity could, by making Hakunon unleash her load inside her until her maestro's ball are empty

Medb and Emiya are sent to scout a new small singularity together, Emiya keeps getting annoyed at Medb complaining and Medb thinks Emiya is just a boring old man. Through their scouting mission they end up talking about their times alive, getting in trouble and getting to know each other. The girl who desired to be saved by a hero turned into a tyrant, and the boy that wanted to save others and become a hero, now nothing more than a machine. I think they compliment each other so well

medea is on her way back from picking up more craft material for her figure making hobby when she runs into mandricardo, she looks at this teenaged 30 year old man quivering with anxiety and decides hes cute in a mildly pathetic way and decides to take the sopping wet kitten of a man home, maybe its just her having a slight thing for stupid pathetic men but maybe she can help him with that

[baobhan sith voice] mash kyrielight did you fuck my mother

Gudako/Gorgon with some awesome size difference going on (or even edging into macro/micro) Gudako having her large and (terrifyingly) beautiful snirlfriend worshipping her tiny little Master :3

a more vore based version of SERAPH? Meltryllis having to watch as Kiara swallows Guda right in front of her, before being stuffed down the Beast's throat shortly after...

Smut, Ishtar getting her dick sucked by Gudako (or any other girl) and not paying attention to the time. Right when she hits her climax, the sun dips below the horizon, leaving Ereshkigal the one in charge of the body mid-orgasm.

Gorgon voring Robin Hood... Maybe Robin trying to shoot his shot romantically, and Gorgon deciding he's better off as a snack than a date.

Cleopatra/Caesar, preferably some smut with how Caesar historically loved to bottom

After finally ending the lostbelt saga all of chaldea and the servants make a celebration party that goes out of control.

Ritsuka and Cupid Caren being shippers hiding in trashcans to watch dates and matching up servant couples during valentine

Mash and Romani father daughter time! Maybe have him showing her his favorite movies

Tepeu gets DRUGGED

FGO again but tumblr has a character limit for bullet points and I can't trim the prompts any further so I'm splitting it in half

Gudako finally gets sick of Mandricardo’s constant whining and admits she thinks he’s worthless compared to most servants, and that she’s sick of hearing a middle aged man wallow in self pity

smut, boudica turning Nero into her cockslut

Modern AU, Gudako convices Draco to go on a date with her, draco being a cool rock musician

smut, Milf battle. Raikou and Tiamat fighting over Ritsuka. Wrestling, fight fucking, mommy kink.

Vinci Rider is kept awake at night by Vinci Caster loudly fucking Gudao (thinking they’re just wrestling or jumping on the bed)

Slight change of the rules of Chaldea is made so that rather than Arturia Lancer being her own person summoned separately, she's just Saber's mind in a different class container due to experimental magics. She also runs from the labs to Ishtar's room and tells her to put Rin in the driver's seat because Damn Rin, look how much my alter-ego was compressing into her breastplate. Breastplay/envy from both Rin and Ishtar follow, Arturia enjoys being taller and so on.

Tepeu and Kijyo become dinosaur friends

smut, guro, I want Medea to fuck Yan Qing, kill him, cut off his dick and walk around with his dick in her coochie for a week before she brings him back to life and tries to escalate from there.

I want Ritsuka to see Goetia using Romani body and going ballistic, punching the fucker until someone stops her because they know she is kill gonna him given the chance

AU where Flauros somehow got amnesia right after taking over Lev Lainur, causing the demon pillar to believe he's the human he's possessing

smut, how tf could Xiang Yu get pegged by his wife ?

It is Mother's day in Chaldea, and Ritsuka has now to make a party for all of their mom, wich are Da Vinci, Sheba, Raikou, Emiya, Tiamat, Dodrinya, Katou Danzo, Iri, Europa, Helena and Goredolf

smut, ntr, Ntr plot with Yu Mei Ren but the entire time she just complains about how Xiang Yu has a better cock and is nicer in bed, with an annoyed tone of voice.

Ok so in Pokemon, Ninetails (kitsune pokemon with, well, nine tails) has a pokedex entry that states that touching their tails leads to a curse. Anyway we take that, apply to Tamamo, ritsuka doesnt know the legend, and starts brushing her tail one day and unfortunately its curse of being horny. Tl;dr: touch tail get smashed by fox wife. Ritsuka wakes up dehydrated and exhausted the next day.

The GUDAGUDA Gang at Walmart, causing so much chaos. From arguments, fights, to even trying to get snacks on the highest shelf and causing the damn thing to fall-

Despite her best efforts, Barghest feels her instincts to devour her Master beginning to overpower her. The last thing she sees before she loses control is her Master pinned to a wall, looking up at her with a worried expression. When she wakes up the next day, she immediately despairs over what she did, only for her Master to pop up next to her. He comforts her and reassures her that she didn't hurt him, and he won't allow her to hurt him.

Blackbeard, Musashi, and Hokusai face punishment for being creeps towards children

U-olga getting summoned in Olympus rewritten to not just be a joke scene about how short and incompetent Olga is

smut, One of the lancer Artorias going for a horseback ride with Gudako. Except also Gudako is riding her huge dragon dick the whole way.

Guda being lovey dovey with Beast Nero and tiamat cockblocking them at every opportunity

smut, mozart being dommed by salieri and marie antoinette uwu

Castoria's dreams about Saber framed as cucking Knocknarea.

Guda gets to go Postal. Let them have an insane day. Attack people. Probably not any Chaldean staff but I think the servants can take it. Have an incredibly violent psychotic break in a singularity/lostbelt even. Use a badger as a weapon.

Dark Young Ritsuka is big and fluffy and a horrible abomination against nature whose mind is on the edge of sanity. How does everyone else react?

Guda secretly uses a command spell Nemo forcing him to take them to the imaginary numbers space where he suspects a certain someone is. Now knowing it is possible for him to make a contract with a Beast he plans on finding Olga, becoming her master and bringing her back to Chaldea, even if it means becoming an enemy of the human Order. Sadly for them, Alaya does not take this betrayal well and despite all their effort, it ends with Guda and Olga both dying fighting an army countless of servants in each other's arms

Wakchan/U-Olgamarie. Fluff or smut, I just want my dinoman to make the director happy.

Would It be possible to get Yu Mei Ren teaching Gudako to pole dance? (Yu's summer variant very much seems to confirm she knows how, based on her animations). Not intended to be Gudako/Yu, not a fan of NTR in the first place, but if the writer wants to make it some kind of Erotic that's up to them.

Crossover

Led by a transmission in the immediate aftermath of the Earth's bleaching, the remnants of Chaldea reach Baldanders, and are greeted by Sion Eltnam Sokaris, the last remaining member of the Atlas Institute and adoptive daughter of its director... alongside her wife, Riesbyfe Stridberg, a former captain of Knights of the Holy Church.

Crossover fic! Raikou FGO and Raikou Nioh 2 fuck!

Satsuki Yumizuka/Yu Mei-ren as a ship! preferably SFW

I just think heaven's hole demonic bodhisattva kiara sessyoin(fate go/extra) should meet with 'Throughout Heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one' satoru gojo(jujutsu kaisen). they should talk. they should fight. they should have hate sex. i want to see kiara tear through this man with her words and hands. maybe her demonic pillars as well

Mikya, Shirou, Shiki and Hakuno have a nice chat about their apocalyptically strong wives. Meanwhile Ryougi, Sakura, Arcueid and Beast Nero are having a small scale war to see who among them has the best husband

Guda and Beast Nero go on a double date with Hakuno and Normal Nero

smut, With new developments of FGO, Nero Beast has revealed her adult form and that who guided her to us was Hakuno. So after all that suffering she endured or girl deserve to be smashed by both Hakuno and Guda to relieve her stress!

Tepeu just hanging out in Tohno mansion in general, being a good guest to the household, still a dinosaur.

lumine & gudako should get together and have a few beers while they bitch about their brother/ male counterpart keeps hogging the spotlight.

Someone please make a Umineko/Fate crossover

Any fandom

Need more tentacles! Preferably with Gudako! Or Eresh! Or Mash! Or Shuten! Or any of the female cast!

Regardless of the paths they take, of the sacrifices they make, they always find comfort in each other. [Hurt/Comfort] (Shirou variants/Saber variants) No harem, but could reuse characters if doing them at a separate instances of time. Technically asking for a series of different Shirou/Saber pairings, but can also just be one pairing because that's a tall order. Would prefer to see at least Salter/Demiya (Or Edgemiya, whichever naming you prefer) because there's a lack of content for them.

Heartwarming Body Horror. I want a character's inhuman condition to be described, how much they're a monster in the shell of human form, really playing up the unnatural traits. Then I want another character to see all that and go "I love you." and give 'em a hug and kisses and maybe lewds. Shoot me in the feels.

Characters of your choice getting stuck in a cabin together with a storm outside

Pancakes lmao

#weekly roundup

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talesfrommedinastation · 11 months ago

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I shouldn't compare apples to oranges, BUT I can't help but wonder what each female character from 'The Expanse' would have done if they found Anakin Skywalker stomping around after murdering a whole village and leaving their bodies to rot under the sun:

Chrisjen Avasarala: She would absolutely dress him down verbally, use words that would peel paint off the wall, and then have him tossed into a UN Black Site so she doesn't have to look at him.

"If you're going to commit war crimes, Anakin, have the goddamned sense to make it useful! Did you at least get intelligence from these Sand People before killing them? Christ, you are a goddamned fucking idiot, like Holden!"

Naomi Nagata: She'd cry, call in help to get Anakin away from her and get some meds into him. Then file a restraining order. Held into place by Amos because Why Not.

"How could you murder these people, Anakin! This is horrible! You're no better then the inners who killed all of those people on Eros! Get away from me! You are no Belta!"

Sgt. Bobbie Draper: Everyone's Favorite Martian would pin him to the ground in her MMC Goliath armor and scream at Anakin while paging her superiors.

"What the FUCK, soldier? I'm sending this to high command! This is bullshit! Do not touch me - I'll break your wrists if you do!"

Camina Drummer: Give him her Sultry Stank Face and lead him to A Certain Door on The Ship That Only Goes One Way.

"You killed how many innocent people? Mmm, just like Dawes and Inaros. Understood. Now. Let's talk about this, privately. In this airlock. You...on the other side of it. Good. Tenye wah chesh gut, paxoníski."

::yeets his ass out into space::

I just came across a post someone made where they basically just said that Padme telling Anakin “it’s human to be angry” after he commits the Tusken Massacre is fine because she was “empathizing with him” and also criticizing the SW fandom via satire for criticizing Padme for that and saying that there was still good in him.

So one thing I need people to understand before they ever start getting on the- “you can’t criticize Padme, she did nothing wrong, she was just in love” -soapbox, is that her and Anakin’s love story is inherently toxic on both ends.

There is no version of their story that ends well if they stay together.

Anakin is a narcissistic abuser*, and Padme is an enabler of his behavior.

(*Keep in mind, when I say “Anakin is an abuser,” I mean the emotional abuser sort—as he doesn’t ever physically harm her until RotS)

This post is primarily about Padme, though, so I’ll just make another post analyzing Anakin—if that’s something y’all would be interested in.

—————

Think about it, though.

Anakin commits mass murder, including the murder of literal children, and Padme—someone who the fandom loves to point to as being morally perfect—basically says that it’s fine because being angry- (and committing mass murder because of it ig) -is normal.

She even rewards him by marrying him like, what is it, a day later? And she never tells anyone about it because god forbid Anakin face any consequences.

Anakin almost beats a man to death and then blames Padme for her own assault, she says he scares her and they need to take a break…but then she goes back to him soon after and apparently forgets all about the whole- “almost beating a man to death” -thing and is so excited to raise a family with him.

Because growing up in a household where their father regularly gets incredibly angry, and physically violent when he is, totally won’t traumatize the kid or anything! Raising children with a child-murderer totally isn’t cause for concern!

Anakin takes part in a genocide, massacres the Temple, ONCE AGAIN MURDERS CHILDREN…and she’s still begging him to stay with her so they can raise their perfect little family on Naboo.

And apparently he’s still a good person.

Right.

—————

Anakin never receives any consequences or pushback from Padme for his actions/behavior and, on the rare occasions she does push back, she goes running back to him—plowing over her own boundaries—almost immediately because she refuses to let go of her own delusional fantasies about their relationship.

That is what people are criticizing for, not for falling in love in the first place.

Anakin has his own set of issues that make the relationship toxic, but Padme also takes part in that toxicity by enabling his behavior—and people are well within their rights to criticize her for it, just like they should criticize Anakin.

#padme #anti anidala #anti padme #anti anakin #padme critical #anakin critical #the expanse #don't mess with these bitches #they get shit done #I mean jesus can you IMAGINE Avasarala ripping into Anakin #And padme for that matter #camina drummer #bobbie draper #chrisjen avasarala #naomi nagata

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apocalypticgargoyle · 4 years ago

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okay okay could i request some nsfw with professor!techno giving a little extra praise to one of his students and asking to see them after class (presumably a bad grade of sort, but thats most certainty not the case). I love your writing by the way !! could i be <3 anon?? thank you so muchhh !!!! :DD

˚⸙͎۪۫⋆ welcome <3 anon ˚⸙͎۪۫⋆

im going fucking feral for this idea, thank you for gifting it to me. i- my mind went to dark academia!techno and i lost it. if y'all know me irl, you don't after this. also this techno fanart by EtecteraArt, if you don't have clear skin yet.

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒. ⚚ 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫!𝐓𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐨

pairing: professor!technoblade x fm!reader

± warnings: nsfw (minors dni), pure filth, professor/student, slight degradation, domination, minimal dialogue

It started out as shameless flirting for you. You’d wear the most revealing thing your closet held, crossing your legs and leaning over to pick up a pencil just so you could show him the curvature of your body. You’d tie your hair up or pull it away from your neck when you answered one of his questions, basking in the slight smirk painting his face as his eyes surveyed your movements. You chewed on the ends of your pens and wore a shade of lipstick you knew would draw in his attention. You were positive your fellow lecture members cast their eyes downward at you, believing he was giving you special treatment just because you toyed with him.

You made sure to show him you knew what you were talking about and actively studying his assignments and works published by him. You were, in a word, hopelessly obsessed with Techno. This obsession led to his appraisal in class when you could fully grasp a more advanced concept he had posed. You didn’t even care about the other girls’ glared burning into your shoulder from behind you as he favored you over them.

One day in particular, you came to class a bit earlier with a coffee for him in your hand. You stopped before entering, pressing your back against the outside wall beside the door as you heard a feminine voice cooing to him. You smugly enjoyed the tone of his voice as he countered their attempts to hit on him with a grace only a man like him could muster. He thanked the woman for coming in and told her that his office hours were open if she needed actual help on an assignment. You swiped your thumb across your bottom lip before smearing the hue of your lipstick against the white plastic lid of the coffee cup. It was barely noticeable, something only he would take note of.

The woman exited the room, brushing your shoulder as she went past you. The two of you shared a look that could equate to two territorial wolves in a dispute. The only leverage you had was that he never shot you down, in fact, you noticed he usually enjoyed your under-the-collar comments. As you turned into the room, you noticed him lean back in his chair, running his fingers into his short pink hair and shutting his eyes slightly with a sigh.

You chewed the corner of your cheek as you approached the lecture desk, his eyes prying open with a small smile as he spotted you. “Good morning, Professor,” you hummed, setting the coffee in front of him. He sent you a hint of a grateful look as students began to file into the room. You turned on your heel and walked to find your seat, swaying your hips slightly, only because you knew he was staring after you.

As you settled in, you watched Techno bring the cup towards his mouth before his eyes darted to the edge of the lid. With the ghost of a smirk swirling into his expression, he looked up to make direct eye contact with you before pressing his lips to the spot and drinking from the cup. Your breath hitched, heat pulsing through your body at the slight gesture from him. You studied him as he swallowed, letting his tongue dart out to wet his lips as if he were further savoring the mild taste of you from the lid; something an outsider wouldn’t have noticed.

You clenched your thighs together as you thought about his rejection of other girl’s advances while now he was practically eye-fucking you from across the lecture hall.

That lecture had been an hour and a half of agony. Your tongue wettened as he twisted a pen in his hand absent-mindedly as he lectured on Eros, his eyes surveying your reactions as he’d quietly roll the pen in his fingers. You weren’t sure how he could have such an effect on you without even touching you. You knew the other girls were squirming in their seats as he sat on the edge of his desk, leaning his elbows on his knees as he answered questions towards the end.

All you wanted to do was get out of the lecture hall and do what you always did after his class: shower in cold water and plan your next phase of attack.

Techno had other plans.

He called out your name at the end of class, meeting your eyes as he instructed you to meet him for office hours. You hear someone whine next to you, nearly making you laugh as you agreed.

And that’s how you found yourself, pulling the door shut to his office behind you. He dug into a folder on his desk, setting a copy of your latest essay in front of him. Your eyes raked down his arms as he pulled his gold-rimmed glasses on top of his head and leaned over his desk, muscle tightening against the rolled sleeves of his shirt. “Come take a look at this,” he stated. Your eyes darted to the red pen marks, his handwriting only scripting praise on the first page. You knew you aced that essay before you’d even turned it into him.

You smirked to yourself, dropping your bag beside one of his client chairs and mimicking his stance, planting your hands in the space between his. The size of him dwarfed you, making your mind race vulgarly. This was always how it was, you invading his personal space and him teasing you to go further. “What am I looking at, Professor?” You quizzed sheepishly, feigning innocence.

You leaned your weight on one of your hands, the fingers of the other tracing closer to his large hand. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you just barely close enough to him that you could feel his breath. Your cheeks flushed, goosebumps spreading over your body. “You think I can’t see what you’re doing?” He needled, voice dropping an octave to send heat straight to your core.

You gulped, practically tasting him he was so close to you. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor. But I could learn,” you avowed; your words barely above a whisper. For a moment, you truly believed he would kiss you, his breath cascading over your face with sweet hints of mint and the coffee you’d bought him.

His lips barely brushed against yours before he pulled away, sending fire to burn in your chest and your knees to turn to jelly. He stood back, his eyes dancing with a mocking ego, knowing he had you on a leash. He lowered into his seat, pressing his back against the leather of his chair, fingers tugging at his collar to undo a few buttons as he looked at your shocked and submissive frame. He chuckled darkly as he eyed you. “You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. You’re just a child,” he teased.

You had half a mind to dig into your bag and sign over your ID to prove you were the opposite of his beratement. Instead, you let your breathing shallow, slowly walking around his desk. He tilted his head at you, watching you intently as you placed your hand on the back of his chair, and pushing him away from his desk. As you lowered to your knees, you allowed that hand to travel the length of his body. As your knees settled against the cold linoleum in front of him, you raked your nails down his thighs, making him chuckle softly, a sardonic expression flickering across his face.

You sharpened your eye contact, your fingers nearly hooking around his belt loops. “Teach me then, Professor. Use me,” you practically begged, making Techno smirk, his hand moving to rest in the crook of your neck while the other supported his head.

His fingers felt coarse against your skin, the feeling of him finally touching you nearly was enough to send you over the edge. You turned your head, pressing your lips to the inside of his wrist. “So needy. Like a lost puppy vying for my attention,” he mocked, gaze dancing from your lips to your eyes. “What would your boyfriend think of you like this? On your knees in front of a grown man.” His voice dripped with lust and restraint, yet he was completely calm and utterly in control.

His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, almost mimicking your gesture from earlier as if he’d pictured your actions with his coffee lid. “I don’t have a boyfriend, Professor. And if I did, I doubt he would taste as good as you,” you muttered, silently signing over your soul to him.

You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he debated what to do with you first. He pressed his thumb into your mouth, flattening your tongue with his finger pad. Your lips instantly closed around him, looking up at him with doe eyes. “Stop talking, pet,” he grumbled, the rest of his fingers angling your face closer to him and he leaned towards you. “If you’re going to beg like a toy, I’ll treat you like a toy,” he promised, making your heart flutter.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, only to wrap his hands around your throat, bringing your lips against his roughly. You moaned at the taste of him, wanting to swim against his tongue and give him your dying breath. He groaned into your mouth, kneading your bottom lip with his teeth.

Techno tugged you to your feet, wrapping his hands around your thighs before pushing you on top of his desk. His hand slipped into your shirt, palming your breast while his other gripped at the flesh of your ass, pulling you closer to him as he ground his hips against yours. You tugged your hands through his soft hair, tugging slightly and savoring the moans he poured into your mouth. You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to alleviate whatever distance there was between the two of you.

Your fingers moved to skim down his toned body, unzipping his pants and palming his cock outside of his boxers. His lips moved to dig his teeth into your shoulder, muffling his groans of praise as he ground against your hand. You panted at the loss of his lips on yours, digging your nose into the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply as he moaned your name. You were convinced you were trapped in one of your many daydreams involving him, but with each nip of his teeth sending a flush of pleasure to your core, you were reminded that he was in fact, about to ruin you.

Techno pulled you off the desk, spinning you in his hold and bending you over the hardwood. You bit back a smirk as you heard him undo the rest of his zipper and discard his belt behind you. The anticipation of him made your knees shake as your hot breath drew clouds of moisture on his desk. His fingers pushed your skirt further up your hips, blunt nails dragging along the skin of your legs before gripping your hips. You felt him grind himself against your entrance, your mind already blurring with pleasure. He kicked your feet further apart. “God, I've wanted to do this for so long," he nearly growled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade before pushing himself into you.

You moan, your body adjusting around his length, begging him for more. His hands gripped your hips, driving himself deeper into you, beginning an animalistic pace. You groaned out his name, one of his hands holding tightly onto your side to give himself more leverage. Your mind blurred, mouth hanging open slightly as your cheek was pressed firmly against the wood of his desk.

Each of his thrusts sent a wave of pleasure coursing through your veins, as his deep, breathy moans hissed into your ear like a sinful symphony. His hand moved to thread his fingers through yours, giving you some kind of anchor as his large frame wreaked havoc on your body. You whimpered out moans of arousal with each of his movements.

His teeth grazed against your neck again, dragging himself deeper into you. You picked your head up, reaching out one of your hands to grip the edge of the desk, hearing him chuckle behind you. His hand snaked around you to wrap around your neck, bringing you up a bit further as he pressed his lips to one of your flushed cheeks, probably basking in the beads of sweat dotting your hairline from his campaign.

"Mark me," you begged. "I'm yours," you moaned, rolling your hips back against him. The satisfied moan that slithered from his lips sent goosebumps spreading against your skin.

He dug his teeth into you, finger tightening around your neck and you knew the brushes he left would be enough of a sultry reminder to keep you wet for a week.

He pulled you upward, pulling out of you only to put you back on his desk, pushing himself into you as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His lips melded against yours again, stealing your muttering of his name and replacing it with his hungry moans.

You ground your hips into him, wrapping around him again as his lips moved to your neck, breath cold against the cold spots from his teeth previously and the thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. With the new angle and his hands digging into your back, your legs were beginning to shake, the tension he'd been binding was becoming too much to hold off.

His hand tightened around your throat as if encouraging you to finish. He pulled your irritated lips towards him again, wanting to taste you as you went over the edge.

After that day, you stopped dressing so provocatively. You could wear a turtleneck and padded jeans and you knew he'd still be looking. He knew what you looked like under those clothes: marked up from his teeth, quivering only for him. No longer was there shameless flirting, only glances that told you to wait for him after class.

He was always hungry for you; whether it be in his car in a vacant lot, in his office to test his chair's range of movement, or in the bathroom of some random club you probably didn't have the qualifications to get into without him. It didn't matter, because he knew that you were his.

You liked watching the other girls throw themselves at him like you had, mainly because he'd always praise you later with your lips around his cock. You were his favorite, his star student. In his eyes, you didn't hold a candle to the rest of them.

#<3 anon #i am in love w him #technoblade x reader #techno x you #techno x reader #techno x y/n #techno smut #technoblade smut #college au #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine #mcyt smut #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #professor!techno

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insomniacowl · 4 years ago

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Neon Genesis Evangelion analysis chapter 20: Libido and Destrudo

Professor Fuyutsuki Metaphysical biology laboratory.

In attempting to understand the story of Neon Genesis Evangelion, the concept of a soul and how it plays into the wider narrative is an essential point where various story threads converge, but due to the idea of souls being abstract at best in our world, many glosses over this as an unexplainable Novum used as a set-piece. Yet, many symbolisms and set-pieces of this series require an understanding of the role of such Novum, thus we will touch on some of them here. (By Novums, I refer to Darko Suvin’s description of ‘Scientifically plausible innovations used by SF narratives’).

In NGE, the concept of ‘Soul’ is explained to lie under the branch of ‘metaphysical biology’ and was Fuyutsuki's field of academic studies. It is mentioned only in passing when we get a glimpse of his past thus making it easy to gloss over, but it is an integral part of the world-building. Side note, in our world, ‘metaphysical biology’ is a branch of the ‘philosophical biology’ but in the world of Evangelion, it is used to explain how the lived experience and emotions of a person come to take form and is a field of scientific study.

In simpler words, it is a belief that the thoughts and feelings of an individual can take material form through the use of ‘certain’ kinds of energy. It is how we can explain the maintaining of an individual’s body in a certain shape using AT field (In a shape that is imagined by the soul [ego]).

Without the AT field, there is no form

All living things consist of its soul and have a body to ‘contain’ it, this soul originating from the room of Guf. In Lilin’s case, their souls have merged with LCL and it is the AT field that keeps the fluid in the shape required to function as a living thing. This is why in the absence of an AT field (such as when it is neutralized by the Anti AT filed waves), the bodies lose its form and revert into LCL as we see during the End of Evangelion.

What does pattern Blue mean?

Unlike the Lilins, Adam, Lilith, and the angels' bodies are not made up of the LCL but what is referred to as the wave-particle matters, allowing their bodies to exists even in the absence of a soul. This is used to explain how the White giant in the central dogma (Lilith) was able to maintain its form when the soul was split and placed in unit – 00 and Rei, and how she changed into a gigantic Rei once the Soul was returned.

Not solid, nor liquid, nor gas

wave-particle matters, according to Ritsuko, refers to a unique matter that exists as both wave and particle materializing at the same moment, this is different in our world where the wave-particle duality problem still exists and we can rightfully believe that Anno simply burrowed the term without the complexities of it. Yet it is still useful to think of this matter as a form of “light” and it is best exemplifies when we see the Rei + Adam + Lilith’s (Rei + AL) hand passing through Maya without any harm, and due to it not requiring an active AT-field to maintain its shape, we can observe the Evas and Rei + AL not reverting to LCL during the End of Evangelion's "Come Sweet Death" scene.

Rei and Humans are biological different

In chapter 10, I have posited that Lilith’s DNA is present in Rei and presented the hair of Unit – 01 and Rei being the same color as a piece of evidence, I can now state this more accurately and say that part of Lilith’s wave-particle material likely has entered Rei during her body construction process. That is the reason why the cloned bodies of Rei we see in episode 23 were able to maintain their form in the absence of a soul inside them. We will be touching upon this topic again in the future.

Libido and Destrudo

Now let us talk about Libido and Destrudo. In our world, these are terms used in philosophy and psychology and tends to refer to a similar concept (refer to Herbert Marcuse's "Eros and civilization" but also many of Freud's works). However, in the world of Evangelion, they are both “Quantifiable mental energy” and are intrinsically linked to the role of souls in producing AT field.

Since the souls’ are vulnerable to having its existence interfered by another soul, resulting in it being forcefully re-shaped, AT fields are set up to maintain physical form and prevent such mishaps. However, an AT field that is too strong can also have harmful effects.

Simply put, there is an amount of AT-field required by each living thing to maintain their selfhood, this requiring a certain amount of energy to maintain this territory of self. This energy is the combination of two types of energy that are Libido and Destrudo.

Libido: the will to life

Libido is similar in concept as eros; a form of mental energy held by all living things. Destrudo is the necessary precondition for the existence of the creation of something from nothing. While Libido is often conceptualized with sexual urges, its original scope is much larger, enveloping all forms of productive energies that includes love. Libido is sub-constituted by the instincts of Id and Ego and is represented in the Evangelion series as AT-field. Libido = AT field.

REI 00N: DESTRUDO RELEASE

The result

On the surface level, Destrudo is the antithetical concept to Libido and is more often referred to as Thanatos in the Freudian concept. It can be described as the “Attraction to death”, and “Instinct to destroy”. While it might seem like a negative concept, it is integral mental energy that works alongside Libido for the continued existence of all living things. When Libido stimulates the stress for the “continued existence” of living things, Destrudo (Thanatos) is also released to maintain the delicate balance necessary for a healthy existence and mental state. In the Evangelion series, this is referred to as the Anti-AT field. We can see that Destrudo = Anti-AT field hypothesis being supported in episode 23 when Ritsuko releases destrudo waves as she initiates the breakdown of Cloned Reis’ bodies.

Let us not forget that Libido and Destrudo are concepts used to explain the existence of a soul in Evangelion. One narrative conflict in Evangelion lies in the choice between the maintenance of the individualized and atomized existence or the achievement of the unified being like those of Angels through Instrumentalization; they are fighting over the size and number of Lilins’ ego (subjecthood) that should be in existence, the existence of souls is a question that supersedes all of this viewpoints. It is the soul that is used for the creation of a connection between the pilot and their Evas. What supports this statement is the production of Libido and Destrudo when they are piloting it, and the strength and balance of this energy are what is being measured during the synchronization test. We can observe this in Asuka where her ability to pilot Unit - 02 correlates with her will to live throughout the series, and we can also say that the role of the dummy plug is the imitation of the mental (thus of Libido and Destrudo) patterns of a specific individual.

Ritsuko: Salvage start!

Maya: Roger, Sending the first wave

Maya: Eva received the waves. No rejection sequence detected

Continue with the second and third wave

No rejection was detected. No Destrudo observed.

We can see these two energies being used in episode 20 when Shinji's soul was absorbed into the Unit – 01’s core and his body reverting into LCL. The salvage operation that was performed to retrieve him explicitly showed us the graph of Libido and Destrudo meter reflected on the operators' screens. Let me pose you a question here, to bring back Shinji from his current formless shape, which of the two energy should be used to bring him back? The answer is Libido, the AT field energy. It is most likely that they inserted Libido energy into the entry plug and this can be seen in the erotic sequence that we observe from Shinji's perspective.

There are two instances of the salvage operation that we are aware of. First is Yui’s case, second Shinji’s. Both instances failed, however, this was not due to the hypothesis of the Libido-AT field being inaccurate. It is because the individual did not wish to return to individual selfhood. Although for Shinji, he managed to wake up on is own accord afterward, foreshadowing his return from the primordial ocean at the end of Evangelion.

The Shinji’s Libido is depicted often and in focus throughout the series. It starts in episode 10 with Shinji’s innocent reaction to Asuka’s filtration, the young boy’s fantasy during the Onsen sequence while overhearing Misato and Asuka’s conversation, and the touching of Rei’s breast. All these instances gave Shinji a boost in his Libido level and this can be linked to his gradual increase of Synchronisation rate. This observation can also be used to help explain the reason why fourteen-year-olds are chosen to be pilots.

The hot-blooded face of Shinji

When we look at Shinji’s face during the fight with Zeruel, at the moment his synchronization rate reached 400%, we can see the effects of Destrudo energy manifesting. In this sequence, we see Shinji smiling with what can only be explained as ecstasy that is too far off from his usual self. The high synchronization rate can be explained with the rise of the Destrudo level here. Destrudo being released due to Shinji’s desire for the destruction of Zeruel means that there is also high Libido that presents to balance out the destrudo level.

Shinji is not okay in this scene.

The metaphysical materialization of Destrudo; circa start of instrumentalization

And the result….?

The concept of Libido and Destrudo plays an integral role in our understanding of the End of Evangelion as well. At the beginning of the movie, we see Shinji having set up a strong barrier against other people (AT field), which means that his current stress for living, the Libido level is at an incredibly and irregularly high level. The sequence where he is seen masturbating to Asuka’s breast shows this dichotomy between the desire for sex against the desire to shield self from others (both being the manifestation of Libido) and it makes the viewing experience extremely uncomfortable.

Later, during the beginning phase of the instrumentalization, as the AT fields are being eroded by the Anti-AT field waves, we observe scenes that epitomizes the destructive instincts of Destrudo. The scene of Shinji choking Asuka is overlayed with the sinister smile during his battle against Zeruel and is followed by multiple bizarre and violent, yet childlike drawings (Libido and Destrudo often reach their peak during childhood and this can be observed in their drawings as well).

Unit – 01 with the Dummy plug choking Unit – 03 (Bardiel)

I will wrap up the discussion on the Dummy system here as well. The requirement for the activation of the Evangelions is the Libido and Destrudo energies, which means that the Dummy system that only imitates the mental patterns of Libido and Destrudo production does not have emotions nor logic. Therefore we can observe the animal-like fighting style of the Dummy system against Bardiel; this shows that even if the system is based on Rei's mental patterns, it has no logic nor emotions and fights on an instinctual level. Thus the dummy system is not a perfect representation of the original.

Skipping over the details here

The progressed version of the Dummy system, one based on Kaworu and implanted into the mass production models takes this further and shows us both of the actions lead by Libido and Destrudo, this was shown in graphic and explicit detail that the movie's R-18 rating allowed. The scene that caused quite a stir, when the mass production models are sexually petting and licking Unit – 02 was led by Libido. Many chucked it up to and accused Anno being a pervert, however, I see this as an important scene that serves mainly to further explain the role of these two energies released by the dummy system. There is a question often brought up regarding the grotesque design of the Mass production models, and the answer is that it was done to visually depict the unfiltered, and uncontrolled desire for Lust (Libido) and destruction (Destrudo).

The desire for life and love and the desire for destruction and instrumentalization are hidden set pieces of this series and are easy to overlook and ignore. But we must not forget that it is depicted in canon and plays a significant role in the ongoing narrative, yet there tends to be very little discussion of this set piece. I hope that this chapter has been useful in aiding your understanding of the series further.

This chapter ends the section on the organizations and angels. Starting from next, we will dive into the discussion of each character and the roles they play in the narrative. The first batter is Kaji Ryoji.

TBC Chapter 21: Kaji Ryoji Lies and Silence

#Neon genesis evangelion #Evangelion #Eva #End of evangelion #Nge #Nagisa Kaworu #Lilith #Sci-fi #Ikari Shinji #Soryu Asuka Langley #asuka #Ayanami Rei #rei #Anno Hideaki #Katsuragi Misato #Anime #Analysis #Review #Kaji Ryoji

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landonxreid · 3 years ago

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A B O U T L A N D O N R E I D:

full name: Landon Jakob Reid

nickname(s): Abi (Sanem)

reason for name: N/A

date of birth: May 31st, 1987

age: 34

gender + pronouns: Male + He/Him

place of birth: Providence, RI

parents: Lawrence Reid, Alanah Reid (deceased)

siblings: Sanem; younger sister

moral alignment: chaotic neutral

Scent: Versace Eros

relationship with family (close? estranged?): Landon is extremely close with his sister, Sanem, as well as his new sister-in-law, Allison. His relationship with his father is strained, but he tries for his sister.

pets: Jonesy, a rabbit

P H Y S I C A L

height: 5’7”

build: Stocky, but in decent shape

nationality: American

ethnicity: Irish/Italian

distinguishing facial features: Eyebrows

hair color: Black

usual hair style: Combed to the side with gel

eye color: Deep brown

complexion (freckles, acne, skin tone, birthmarks, scars): White skin, birthmarks under his right eye, slight forehead wrinkles

disabilities (physical or mental, including mental illnesses): N/A

what do they consider their best feature?: His body.

worst they’ve ever been injured (what, how did it happen)?: Most of Landon’s injuries have come from stitching clothing together for Sanem,

A P P E A R A N C E

favorite outfit: Button-up fitted shirt and black pants.

glasses? contacts?: Contacts, glasses only inside his apartment.

personal hygiene: Showers daily, shaves regularly (face, chest, shoulders, etc). Working on his skincare, but swears by St. Ives, though it’s definitely the reason his face is scarring.

jewelry? tattoos? Piercings?: Ears are pierced, but he rarely wears earrings. One tattoo on his left ribcage of his parents and sister’s name as well as their birthdays.

what does their voice sound like?: Deep with a condescending/annoyed tone, always.

style of speech (loud, mumbler, articulate, etc.): Articulate

accent?: N/A

unique mannerisms/physical habits: When Landon becomes stressed, he will close his eyes longer than an average blink, as well as sighing. When he becomes excited, his entire aura changes and he actually becomes somewhat warm and welcoming.

left handed or right?: Ambidextrous

do they work out/exercise?: Running and yoga.

B E L I E F S & I N T E L L E C T

known languages: English, conversational Turkish and minimal French.

zodiac: Gemini Sun, Cancer Moon, Aeries Rising

gifts/talents: Good with numbers, drawing

religious stance: Agnostic

political stance: Independent

pet peeves: Rush deadlines. There are five days in a week, do not send a file on Friday that needs to be completed on Friday.

optimist or pessimist: Neutral

extrovert or introvert: Introvert

I N T I M A C Y & R E L A T I O N S H I P S

relationship status: Single

sexual orientation: Bisexual

ideal mate/qualities they look for in mate: Someone that would be willing to put him first, even though putting others first tends to be his own weakest quality. He has a lot of walls up, and anybody willing to work through them is probably worth attempting a relationship with.

ever been in love?: Yes, unfortunately.

what’s their love language?: Acknowledging his own faults. Setting the coffee the night before for his partner. Bringing lunch to his partners. Spending nights inside the apartment watching documentaries. Physical touch.

most important person in their life?: Sanem.

V O C A T I O N

level of education: Master’s Degree.

profession: Software Developer.

past occupations: Screen printing, waiter.

dream occupation: None.

passions: Drawing, craft beers.

attitude towards current job: It pays well and has benefits.

spender or saver? Why?: Saver.

which is more important – money or doing something they love?: Money

S E C R E T S

phobias: Being alone

life goals: Maybe get a dog and multiple properties.

greatest fears: Dying before Sanem.

most embarrassing thing ever to happen to him/her: His height

something they’ve never told anyone: He spends too much time online gambling and may have opened one too many lines of credit to keep the money flowing.

biggest regret: Not telling his mom he loved her enough. .

compulsions: Starting arguments

police/criminal/legal record: N/A

Vices: IPA’s.

preferences

hobbies: Drawing, documentaries, coding

favorite color: Dark orange

favorite smell: Fall air

favorite food: Risotto

favorite book: It is not a book, but an Epic: Beowulf

favorite movie: Indiana Jones

favorite song: Killed By an Angel- Sunny Day Real Estate

coffee or tea?: Coffee

favorite type of weather: Sweater weather

T R A I T S

+ Determined, Hard-worker, Dedicated

- Arrogant, Selfish, Short tempered

#(muse)

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blakegarreth · 5 years ago

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Second character in my arsenal and he goes by the name of Blake. I should probably preface this by saying I do not watch him in Chicago PD, I just think he’s attractive as hell and definitely fits the cop bill - which of course is why I use him, just read his bio to see to what extent. I’d absolutely love any plots for him that you can think of, so hit me up and we can chat about it. Even if one specific one isn’t coming to mind i’m sure the both of us could come up with something! I’ll try not to ramble so much in his bio but can’t make promises, I have a hard time stopping once I get going! Alright, no more wasting time, under the cuts what you’re looking for!

Did I just see JESSE LEE SOFFER walking on the beach? Nevermind, it was just 33-year-old, BISEXUAL, BLAKE GARRETH. I heard the MASTER is quite OBSERVANT but also DOMINEERING. HE seems to enjoy PET PLAY, but don’t try BATHROOM PLAY with this one. They’re looking for ANY asset who preferably looks like ANYONE

Blake is definitely something else, I guess that’s the easiest way to put it, because you don’t really know what you’re getting yourself into at first introductions. He’s layered, shields himself mostly from people at the start, but the more he gets to know you, to trust you more importantly, that’s when the layers are peeled back and you’re really introduced to the man that stands before you. He’s been through some shit in his time that you wouldn’t believe, so yes he is very calloused and doesn’t take too easily to newcomers, but with enough patience he’s not the hardest shell to crack - just keep drilling for oil, I suppose.

Growing up things were normal, he was an only child to parents who didn’t necessarily have much to their names. They had enough to get by though, had their house with the white picket fence, but other than that they weren’t rich by any means. He attended public school, played sports, was insanely popular based on looks alone, and was an all around great guy to be around. He was the epitome of an all american boy next door that anyone would be proud to be friends with, or even date if he gave you the option (which he did date around in high school but it was nothing fantastic). He was never one to really hide behind any facades and even let it be known that he was just as interested in men as he was in women when he was only a sophomore, what can I say the man knows what he likes and isn’t afraid to admit to the masses.

Things didn’t start going wrong for him until he became a police officer. He was like every other boy who dreamed of wearing the blue and keeping the city of Chicago safe (given pictures and gifs I have it just was easier to keep it in chicago honestly i’ll admit to that streak of laziness hah). His mother preferred he be anything else, but his father was proud as could be as his son graduated from the academy and was welcomed by the force. As a rookie he followed the book, though soon started to learn just how crooked some cops could be, and his stupidity (moral compass) lead him to telling his superior’s - the city had enough shit to deal with through criminal activity, it didn’t need to follow them into the precinct.

Bad idea though, he honestly should have known that it wasn’t just a cop or two that was crooked in the precinct, and pretty soon once people found out he’d been a whistle blower it’s almost as though he had a target on his back. Nobody wanted to be his partner anymore, there were hits put out for him, but the man seemed to get through most of them unscathed. He had a longtime girlfriend though, went by the name of Blair (it was her last name but being an officer herself it was a nickname that stuck), who wasn’t so lucky and got in the way of a bullet meant for him. He never saw it coming, she did though (she was always the better eye - even he’d admit that), he’d sensed no danger when she jumped into action. His knee jerk reaction was to shoot, pulling his gun from his holster and taking down the perpetrator, quick to tend to her as he hollered for someone to call the paramedics. It was a gruesome scene, one that he relives in his memory quite frequently, and to make matters worse knowing that bullet had been meant for him (he found out later by the slip up of some of the badges talking) brings on so much more grief.

He knew he’d never be able to take down the entire precinct, not when the more he looked into it the deeper shit seemed to be, so with that he handed over his badge and gun - he couldn’t work for a department with that much bad blood. It’s not like the hits just went away though, if anything they intensified once the precinct figured out what he was doing. He’d given himself a hobby of sorts, working freelance as a private investigator to make ends meet, and when he wasn’t working a civilians case he was working his own - his main aim to take down the precinct for all the corruption behind it’s doors, he just needed to figure out who ran the operation. Cut the snake off at the head and all would be good, or so he assumed (or hoped more likely) that would be the case.

The further he dug into the shit storm the more he hated what he had found, and he’ll never forget the night he confronted the mayor about just how far the corruption had gotten, knowing full well the mayor was the one behind all of it. He should have seen that coming, it was like out of a damn movie, but what he didn’t see was the shot from behind - a security guard he’d forgotten to take out before his rampage into the office. He lay bleeding on the floor of the mayors office, shot in the shoulder, though by the grace of god was spared - the mayor called the paramedics, and tended to him while waiting for them to arrive - not without threatening his very existence though, and vowing to finish the job if he were to try anything (he made up some story about a crazed criminal barging into his office and trying to shoot the mayor but the valiant ex-police officer had jumped infront of the bullet - a story that’d make the papers love the mayor that much more as the blood was cleaned from his carpets).

Blake had heard the warning though, how he needed to get out of Chicago before the next shot was centered more, taking aim at the heart that had already been broken before. He knew the mayor would have no problem taking him out, he was nothing more than a risk worth getting rid of, but could he leave that world behind for good? He vowed on the night that his girlfriend had died to take them all down, and running away would never accomplish that - though he did need to let the heat die down some, and with that he was gone. He’d heard of Eros, a secret to most of the world, and figured a tropical island would be the best to escape and hideout for a while - let off some steam as he went over all the evidence again and again, having brought his laptop with a ridiculous amount of files on it to read through.

Not to mention to be able to release some tension on an asset, it sounded too good to be true. He’s a bit jumpy and doesn’t really open up too much, but once you get to know him you’ll find he’s very genuine and just wants to serve and protect (he could never fall into the world of corruption, he was an actual good cop for once). His wound is still healing, it’s forming a nice scar now, so when he does have his shirt off it’s a very prominent feature on his right shoulder (which he is very self conscious about). Other than that there’s a few scrapes and scars littered over the rest of his body, mere badges to his years of service before all the shit started going down. He’s lost a lot of blood for the city of Chicago but that doesn’t stop him from planning his return.

As always, hit me up if you’d like to plot, i’m open to anything!

#erosintro

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darley1101 · 5 years ago

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You Taste Like Home (Perfect Match Damien x MC)

Tastes Like Home

Violent thoughts were not the norm for Ava. She liked to think of herself as an almost pacifist. Almost because she enjoyed a good boxing match. What could she say, there was just something insanely hot about two half naked men slugging it out while sweat dripped down their muscled up bodies. What wasn't hot was Damien's ex Alana. Okay, so maybe Alana was physically attractive; if you liked perfect hair and high cheek bones. The surly attitude and smug remarks about breaking Damien were total deal breakers though. To quote her cousin Nadia “being an insufferable twat was so not cool.” It had taken an insane amount of will power for Ava to not curl up her fist and punch the bitch right in her perfect nose. She was actually proud of how restrained she had been. Under normal circumstances she would have at least snatched some of that perfect hair from Alana's scalp. It was the sex, she thought bitterly as she stripped off her light gray t shirt and denim shorts. Her body and mind had still been muddled from having Damien fuck her not once, not twice, but three times in that tiny bathroom on the plane. What could she say...it had been a long flight.

Kicking her underwear aside while she unhooked her bra, Ava drew her brows together at the memory. A lot strong words had been said in that bathroom. She'd meant them. They hadn't been some in the heat of the moment proclamation. She loved Damien so much it fucking hurt sometimes; like now to be exact. Damien on the other hand...well she wasn't so sure what his intentions were. He'd seemed to love thrusting his dick in and out of her. He'd seemed to love her mouth going down on him. And he had definitely seemed to love making her cum. All of his so called love seemed to vanish when the plane landed and they discovered his ex holed up in his safe house. The urge to punch him in the face was almost as strong as the urge to punch Alana.

She stepped under the shower head, squeezing her eyes shut as the steady stream of hot water washed away the sweat, cum, and other grime that had accumulated on her body during the mad dash to stay one step ahead of Eros. There was a part of her that wanted to call up Cecile and say 'here's your robot back, now leave us the hell alone.' She wasn't stupid enough to think things would be that simple. It wasn't just Hayden that Eros was after. Sloane had stolen a lot of incriminating evidence from their computers. There was also all the information Damien, Ava, and Nadia had discovered during their file search. No way in hell Eros was backing off without a fight.

“Ava, you have got to see this closet!” Nadia called from the other side of the door. “Girl might be a bitch but she's a bitch with excellent taste!”

Rolling her eyes, Ava focused on scrubbing herself down. It was pointless to remind Nadia that of course Alana had good taste. She had dated Damien, plus she had an endless supply of government resources at her disposal. “Like seriously,” Nadia continued. “There's Addison Sinclair and...oh my god! Ava she has Priya Delacroix! I repeat...she has Priya Delacroix!”

The excitement in Nadia's voice was almost contagious because Ava found herself smiling for the first time since they arrived in Germany. The smile was mostly for Nadia. It was nice to hear something other than anger, heartbreak, and despair in her cousin's voice. “There's this purple dress that you're going to look amazing in Ava,” Nadia squealed. And just like that the smile faded. There was no way in hell Ava was wearing any of Alana's clothes. She would rather put back on the grimy outfit on the floor. “I don't think any of this has ever been worn.”

“Nadia,” Ava yanked open the bathroom door, steam billowing out around her. “I am not wearing that bitch's clothes.”

Nadia cross her arms. “So what are you going to wear? The clothes you just took off? News flash Ava they're disgusting. Do you really want to put them back on?”

Of course Ava didn't want to put her dirty clothes back on, but she wanted to wear Alana's clothes even less. She already felt like Alana viewed her someone inferior, someone who was content with other people's sloppy seconds. Showing up to dinner in the other woman's dress would only add fuel to that fire and Ava couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't give in to her violent thoughts if Alana made a remark. “I'm not wearing the dress.”

“You sound like cousin Oscar's three year old. 'I'm not eating the rice it looks like maggots' only its 'I'm not wearing the dress because it belongs to Damien's ex.'” Nadia rolled her eyes and tossed the purple gown on the foot of the bed. “Wear whatever you want. I'm going down to dinner.”

“That's not...I..just...” Ava pressed her lips into a twisted grimace. Nadia was right. Her main reason for not wanting to wear the dress was because it belonged to Damien's ex. “I don't sound like cousin Oscar's three year old,” she muttered as she trooped back into the bathroom. Bending over, she scooped up her dirty clothes. There had to be a washing machine and a dryer somewhere in that house.

“Now that's a nice view,” Damien drawled.

Ava let out a tiny shriek, her arms flailing just enough to send her clothes flying. She watched in horror as her panties landed in the toilet. Clutching her towel to her chest, she spun around and shot Damien a hard look. “Shouldn't you be catching up with Alana?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Damien leaned against the bathroom door frame. “There's nothing for Alana and I to catch up on.”

“Does she know that?” Turning her back on him, Ava wrinkled up her nose and fished her panties from the toilet. Uncertain what to do with them, she plopped them in the sink.

“Yes, Ava,” Damien smirked, “she knows that. Why? You jealous?”

Her jaw went slack, leaving her mouth gaped. He did not just ask her if she was jealous of Alana. Without thinking, Ava balled up her fist and slammed it into Damien's stomach. “You are such a freaking asshole,” she snapped, shoving past him.

“Jesus, Ava,” he wheezed, rubbing the spot where her fist had connected with his flesh. “What's gotten into you.”

“I don't know Damien. What could have possibly gotten into me?” Stomping across the room, Ava yanked up the over sized tote Nadia called a purse. She felt a little bad for rummaging through it but occasionally her cousin carried around extra clothes. No such luck this time. She tossed the tote aside and wheeled back around on Damien. “You know, I meant what I said. I didn't just...just....” she felt some of her steam starting to diminish. It was hard to hold on to anger when her heart hurt as much as it did. “You shouldn't say things you don't mean,” she whispered, rapidly blinking as she felt the tell tale sting of tears.

“Ava,” Damien pushed away from the door jam and closed the distance between them. As he pulled her towards him, she started to push away but ended up melting into the embrace instead. Closing her eyes, she buried face in the soft cotton of the t shirt he wore. “Come on now,” he chided, using his knuckles to lift her chin. Her dark brown eyes meet his lighter ones. “You know me better than that. I don't throw those words around.”

He was right. Love wasn't a word that Damien casually used. In fact, Ava couldn't recall a single moment he had ever said the word love before their hook up in the plane. Even in past conversations about Alana he had only ever said he cared deeply for his ex partner/girlfriend. Hell, he didn't even use it when talking about his mother; whom he liked well enough. Yet he had said it to Ava. He'd made her look him in the eyes when he said it, she recalled. He'd wanted her to know he meant it. She curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and let out a shuddering sigh. How could she have been so neurotic? Oh. Right. Eros. Everything circled back to Eros. “Then why have you been ignoring me?” She can't help but wince at how whiny the question sounds. Oh God, Nadia's right, I do sound like cousin Oscar's three year old.

She can feel his chest expand as he takes a deep a breath. “Hayden might not be human, Ava, but he still has feelings. I might be an ass at times but I'm not cruel.”

Hayden. Ava had all but forgotten about him. She can't help but feel somewhat guilty. No, she had never led Hayden on but he'd been good to her. And had he been human, had Damien never spoke up, who knows where the relationship might have gone. “So it was strictly about Hayden? It had nothing to do with the fact that your ex partner whose also your ex girlfriend is here?”

“I could give two fucks what Alana thinks.” He chuckled but then grimaced. He tugged Ava closer and lowered his mouth to her ear. “I don't trust her,” he murmured. “She shouldn't have been here. Something about her story doesn't add up.”

Why was he whispering? A chill went down Ava's spine. He thought the room was bugged. That was the only explanation for his sudden change in tone. “So what are we going to do,” she whispered back, her heart pounding.

“Right now? I'm going to remind you of what you do to me.” He reached for her towel, untucking the knot that secured it around her breasts. Ava's breath caught in her throat as he navigated her toward the bed. The backs of her knees hit the mattress and with a tiny nudge from him, she's sent sprawling.

“You're crazy,” Ava hissed. “If you think I'm going to fuck you in a room that might be bugged you're out of your mind.” She rose up on her elbows. “Plus, I'm still mad at you.”

He leaned down, their noses almost touching, and brushes his lips across hers. She doesn't want to lose control, not when there is a very real possibility that the room the room was bugged. Yet, as his mouth kept teasing across hers, she feels her grasp on clarity slipping away. It's as though they're in a bubble, where nothing matters but the way they make each other feel. She flattened her hands on his chest, relishing the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palm, before sliding one up and into his dark hair. She let out a small gasp as he nipped her lower lip and then kissed his way south. “Damien, I'm serious,” she whined. His mouth vibrated against her belly as he chuckled.

“Who said anything about fucking.” He nipped, then licked her inner thigh, slowly inching his way towards her pussy. He kissed over the top of her slit, worming his tongue between her folds. She sucked in her breath and grasped the duvet in her fists. Her eyes closed and her lower lip tucked between her teeth as she tried to focus on not making any sound, instead of the sweet sensation of his tongue pressing against her clit. It was sheer torture. The more she tried to hold back, to keep it all in, the more he teased her.

“Ohmigod,” she whimpered, her breathing quickening as he sucked her clit into his mouth. Gently, he nipped at the delicate bundle of nerves, causing her inner walls to tighten and ache. The desire to feel him inside her, thrusting in and out, outweighed her concerns over whether or not the room was bugged. If it was, well, Alana was already getting an earful. Why not just...she moaned as Damien drew his head up just enough to blow gently across her wet, aching flesh. “I swear to God Damien, if you leave me like this I will-”

He gathered her close, capturing her mouth in a kiss. She doesn't care that she can taste herself on his lips. It adds fuel to the fire burning in her lower abdomen. Having the bulge in his pants press against her throbbing pussy as his tongue teases in and out of her mouth also adds to the fire. “Need you,” she managed to mumble around the kiss. “Like....now.”

“Hm,” Damien raised up on one arm and stared down at her. One hand brushed a few strands hair off her face. “You know what I love most about kissing you?”

“That it leads to other stuff?” Hint, hint. Lose the pants.

“No,” he laughed. “Well, yes, but that's not what I was going to say.” He leaned down and kissed her again. Sweeter and slower than any of the other times. “You taste like home.”

#choices perfect match #damien x mc #mc x damien

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violetsmoak · 5 years ago

Text

Philtatos [4/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47615902

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #gods in disguise #secrets #shield #undying love

First Chapter

Author's Note(s): This one's a little less polished since my computer decided to eat half the chapter and I had to rewrite it in a hurry, but I'll fix it later.

________________________________________________________________

How does this even happen?

It’s tempting for Tim to let his head fall against the computer console in his frustration.

A week in, and nothing. No reports of random people wandering around with a bow and arrows, none of his underworld contacts have mentioned anything showing up at on the black-market or at illegal auctions. It’s as if Eros’ diviners have vanished into thin air.

That he’s frustrated is putting it lightly.

Adding to that is the fact he hasn’t seen or heard from Jason in the same amount of time. The other vigilante finally appears to have found the tracer Tim stuck on him and sent it on a trip to the Gotham City dump. It’s both a relief, because it means he’s acting like himself, and a disappointment, because it means he’s still resistant to Tim’s help.

Apparently when he asserted the Red Hood would eventually reach out to him, he underestimated the exact amount of stubborn that is Jason Todd. He’d come to Eros about something, as Tim discovered when checking his now blank security feeds; the Olympian wouldn’t say what, instead complaining about rude capes and the obstinacy of men.

Tim scowls at the dot pixel pattern of static where the footage of their meeting should be, trying to get his emotions under control. He’s annoyed, because Eros is annoying, but also because Jason managed to not only get into his apartment undetected, but down into the Nest.

Yes, he knows Jason is a lot smarter than he pretends to be, but it’s a dart to his pride because he thought he was being clever.

He’s also worried, since something upset Jason enough to come here in the first place. And he’s hurt because he’d chosen to speak to the winged appetite that compromised him to begin with instead of the one person trying to help him right now.

He waited until I wasn’t around to come here. And Eros won’t say what they talked about.

Mostly to be contrary.

As for the reports coming in from the authorities cleaning up after the Red Hood in the past few days, his take-downs are edging toward the worse side of brutal once again.

Something must be going on. If he’s being affected, though, wouldn’t he not have the interest to keep on with his usual activities?

It’s been an almost physical effort not to approach Jason once again, to plead with him to just accept help for once.

Versions of that plan have never worked for Bruce or Dick—or, well, any Bat, really—so Tim doubts it will work for him.

It’s why he now forces his focus back onto Eros’ case, as futile as it’s been. He knows he’s has more difficult cases, but this one feels like it’s intentionally trying to frustrate him in a way even the Riddler’s games never have.

You’d think people carrying around a bow and arrows would be pretty easy to find, but apparently not.

The Olympian is irritating, even as he answers Tim’s questions. His story hasn’t changed from when he first told it—a trip to Amsterdam that didn’t go as planned, and then a desperate hunt throughout all the cities where Tim tracked thefts.

So far, everything lines up with the investigation Tim was running before and offers no new information.

“Are your diviners like you?” Tim asks, considering the giant map on his computer screen; a red line drags across the Atlantic Ocean, connecting locations on the bordering continents. “I mean, will they not turn up on CCTV or other security devices?”

It would explain why he hasn’t found anything yet.

“Nah, that’s just me,” Eros tells him as he flips through a gossip rag. “I have to make the conscious decision to not show up on camera. It’s a strain on my abilities.” He sighs, putting down the magazine. “I used to be able to go completely invisible in the good old days. Back when people truly believed in us.”

“And now you just, what, mess with imaging frequencies?”

“Pfft—Glorified camouflage.”

“Considering government reliance on facial recognition software, you’re still able to ghost the system. That’s something.”

“Don’t patronize,” Eros grumbles. Then he tilts his head as something occurs to him. “Although, now that you mention it, they can change forms.”

Tim stills. “…What.”

“Yes, to make them less conspicuous. You don’t think I wander around with a bow and arrows all the time, do you? Outside of a Renaissance fair that sort of thing catches the wrong kind of attention—”

“Why the hell didn’t you say this before?” Tim hisses, fingers itching with conflicting impulses to tear at his hair or punch the Olympian in the face. Luckily for the well-being of all parties involved there’s a thick sheet of bulletproof glass between them.

“Uh, one, you didn’t ask. Two, I’m the only one who knows how to change their form, so I didn’t think it was an issue,” Eros replies, ticking options off his fingers.

Tim takes a deep breath through his nose and releases it. “If you want me to solve your case and get your property back, you have to tell me all the information. Even if it seems insignificant.”

“Well I know that now,” Eros huffs; at Tim’s continued unimpressed expression, he rolls his eyes stands up. “Fine! Mea culpa. What do you want to know?”

“What forms can your diviners take?”

“Since they were forged to be divine weapons, they have to conform to their purpose. So they can only be reshaped into other weapons.”

“Any weapon? Knives? Brass knuckles? Mace?”

“In theory?” Eros answers, and then looks curious. “Actually, that’s an interesting concept. I might try those out when I get them back.”

His attention span is possible worse than Bart’s.

“Focus—what form were they in when you were in Amsterdam?” There’s no footage of that, because apparently that café valued customer privacy over possible security issues.

“Well, I’d just finished watching a James Bond marathon, so I was inspired. I made them into these sweet, gold-plated .45 calibre revolvers. Single shot, custom-design, monogrammed.”

And another breath…

“Which you didn’t think to mention.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that important?”

“Yes, it was important! How am I supposed to help you find your diviners when you have me looking for a bow and arrows, and they’ve basically become the Golden Gun?!”

“Guns. Plural.” Eros corrects reasonably. “And you’re a detective. It’s what you do. I already said I don’t tell you how to do your job.”

Tim’s heard that love is blind; it turns out love is also an idiot.

With monumental effort, he lets it go; he’ll revisit the shape-changing weapons on his own time. There’s other information he needs. “Back to the theft, though—is there anyone you were with at the time, anyone who might have witnessed what happened?”

“I was with a lot of people that night. And it’s not like those people are going to a pot café to pay attention, if you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

“Well, that’s not surprising. You don’t strike me as the fun one.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dig, “What about other Olympians?”

“What about them?”

“Could they have stolen it from you?”

“In theory, but I would have noticed. And then booked it in another direction.”

“You don’t get along with your family?”

“Do you?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“It always is.”

“What about your wife?”

Eros tenses, expression going unnaturally blank. “What?”

“I started doing a bit of research on you,” Tim explains, studying the sudden change in demeanour. “Just the basics. But the most popular story about you has to do with your wife, Psy—”

“Dead,” Eros cuts him off, abrupt.

“But I thought she became an immortal goddess?”

“How many times do I have to explain that the stories don’t get everything right?” Eros sneers. “She’s dead. Point final.”

The message in his voice and eyes is for Tim to drop it; even as his curiosity grows, filing the information into his mental dossier of the Olympian, Tim can recognize a painful topic.

He lets it go. For now.

“So, no one was around? The coffeeshop, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Eros groans, body language easing out of it’s rigidity once more. He winds his fingers into his hair. “There was a pair of identical twins from Sweden that looked like walking Alps, and by the Styx did I want to climb those.”

“Gross.”

“And then there was the clingy redhead, the hot waiter with the manbun, one total MILF relieving her glory days—I don’t know, okay? There were a lot of people!”

Tim leans back in his chair, carding his fingers together. “What exactly is a god of love doing getting stoned in Amsterdam, anyhow?”

“Hey, I don’t judge your life choices.”

“I’m not judging, I’m just—curious. You’re not human, you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, without being tracked—can probably influence people to get whatever you want. And you decide to gorge yourself on pot brownies in a glorified basement?”

“You might not understand this, but sometimes it’s nice to go somewhere and forget for a little while,” Eros drawls.

Actually, I get that more than you imagine…

“That’s unexpected,” Tim offers. “Considering who you are, you’d think you’d be happier."

"When has love ever been synonymous with happy?" Eros challenges. “You know that better than most, right?”

“I’m fine. I’m living with it.”

“Not talking about your walking Alp, darlin’. I mean the loss you’ve gone through.” The Olympian is studying him now. “I can see the scars left over from every person you let into your heart and who left you. The boy you loved, your parents, your best friends, your father figure…and it’s not just death I’m sensing. You’ve had things taken from you, things you loved more than anything, just wrenched away.”

“My entire life has burnt down! Again! I don’t call this ‘okay’, Dick.”

“You have to understand—”

“Oh, are you still here?”

“What Earth are we on that you choose him over me?”

Even after all this time, it hurts.

He is uncomfortable at the reminder of blacker times, some fresher in his mind than others. He still has moments when his mind is trapped back in the days after losing Robin, after his father’s death, when he gets stuck in those memories and can barely get out of bed. It’s like sleep paralysis, except he’s awake, and it usually takes Dick dropping by his place unannounced or Alfred phoning him to remind him not to miss upcoming family dinners, to get him out of it again.

To remind him it’s in the past and can’t hurt him anymore.

But now, this latest thing with Jason has more than just the potential to hurt, it’s practically a certainty. In fact, Tim wonders if Jason being cursed to desire him isn’t just the universe continuing its general theme of dumping on him.

“I don’t need a replay, I was there,” Tim says stiffly, and decides he needs a break from Eros for a little while. In about three hours he has to get up and go to work, something he’d rather skip, but the old guard on the Board of Directors is getting up to their usual bullshit and he can’t skip the meetings today.

The rest of the week continues in the same trying fashion. When he isn’t working the case, going through hours of footage from various airports, train stations and other checkpoints for a sign of someone carrying any weapons this time, he’s at WE fighting a bunch of old, fiscal conservatives trying to undercut employee wages. Neither initiative seems to be going anywhere.

On the sixth night since the warehouse fight, Tim is running on very little fuel, to the point his judgement is starting to waver. He’s weighing the pros and cons of checking in on Jason again. He thinks he could probably manage it without him noticing this time. But then, Eros is taking one of his rare (and much appreciated) food-coma naps, which means some valuable quiet time for him to think.

The main computer chooses that point to blink to life with a message from the Tower, and Tim’s stomach leaps with hope that Cassie has something for him.

Except it’s not her that grins down at him.

“Superboy? Where’s Cassie?”

His best friend makes a face. “Ouch, not even a ‘hello’?”

“Sorry, just a bit stressed,” Tim groans. Apparently his exhaustion has brought him past the point of basic etiquette. He needs another Red Bull. “Hi.”

“You sound so enthusiastic,” Connor deadpans. “Anyway, Cassie’s gone to see her Mom in Gateway City. She said she’d be back soon.”

Tim nods. That makes sense, considering Dr. Sandsmark’s knowledge of Ancient Greek artifacts and mythology; he feels stupid for not thinking to contact her before.

“Hey Rob!” Bart shoves his face into the frame. “When are you coming back?”

“Might be a little while. I got side-tracked with a case here that’s, uh, time sensitive.”

“Sucks.”

“While you’re here, can I get some of those bars of yours?”

He thinks Batburger is about to offer him and endorsement deal.

“Are you pulling another case where you’re too lazy to get up and eat? Dude, we talked about that.”

“Also, those bars are gross.”

“Of course they’re gross to you, you’re used to homemade Kansas awesomeness that fills you up if you just look at it.”

“They’re not for me,” Tim interrupts. “It’s for a…actually—” There’s no other way to see it. “He’s my prisoner.”

His friends look impressed.

“Damn, Rob, are you going Dark Side on us?”

“Ooh, do they have cookies?”

“Ha, hah. And even if I was, everyone else has already done it, I’m due. But no, the guy’s a glorified witness, with the metabolism like a Speedster.”

“So, hell on the grocery bills,” Connor says with a nod.

Tim’s comm buzzes, the line from his cellphone; against the backdrop of his mask, Cassie’s number pops up.

“Gimme a sec, incoming call,” he says, and patches into the line. “Hey—”

“Everything he said is true,” Cassie interrupts before he can finish the sentence. “Eros, I mean. People infected by his blood only get worse unless treated—think the Henry VIII, the Manson family, or John Hinckley Jr before they were cured.”

Tim recognizes all of those names. “Wait, but they all lived afterward.”

“They were the ones who got cured. Other’s haven’t been so lucky. Medea killed her own children and set her ex’s new girlfriend on fire.”

The blood rushes from his face. “What?”

“I mean, all those people had severe issues before they got infected, which might be a factor, but if your victim already has trouble controlling their emotions…”

Cassie trails off.

It’s like the bottom has dropped out of his stomach. “How long?”

“Two weeks, give or take. It depends on the mind frame of the victim.”

A very real, visceral fury spreads throughout Tim’s body, anger on Jason’s behalf and at the spoiled godling that’s watching all this unfold like it’s one of his TV dramas.

“…Thanks, Cassie,” he manages to croak. “Call you later.”

He hangs up.

“Are you okay?” Connor asks; on screen, his body becomes more tense in response to Tim’s expression.

“I have to go,” Tim replies, tipping his cowl over his head.

“Need help?” Bart asks. “You know we can be there in less than three hours if you do. Two if we’re really booking.”

Tim considers, then shakes his head. “I—we should be able to handle this.” Bruce is never happy when metas show up without his permission, even when they’re saving the collective asses of the Family. “But I’ll keep you posted. If there is anything, I’ll contact you right away.”

“Good luck,” Connor says, still concerned.

“Thanks,” Tim replies, ending the call.

I think I’m definitely going to need it.

⁂

The sun beats down on him from its zenith, and he can feel his arms burning. The air is hot and humid, carrying with it the taste of the sea he usually associates with the Mediterranean, yet he’s still sweating in his linen tunic.

In his hands—browner than he’s used to, scarred but in a different way than he expects—he carries a wreath of laurel leaves, woven together with fine gold thread. In front of him, a giant mound rises out of the earth, grass and wildflowers covering it, rippling lazily in the wind. At its base, a thick column of aged marble, already falling into disrepair.

He should see about having that fixed before they head for Sardis.

Jason takes a few steps forward, kneeling to place the wreath at the base of the column; despite the heat, a chill moves up his spine as he presses his hand to the earth, clutching a handful of dry soil and bringing it to his lips.

“It is my privilege to stand at the hall of your rest, Honored Forefather,” he murmurs. “And know that I will do your blood proud.”

The words are less flowery than anything the priests and governors might come up with, but the sentiment remains just as genuine.

Glancing to his right, he sees a similar column several yards away, and another man is kneeling there with his own wreath. It takes him a moment before he recognises him.

Tim.

Except—he’s different: his hair is longer, skin darker than Jason can ever remember seeing, because Tim is supposed to be a pasty-faced nerd. He’s also wearing a red tunic and lace up sandals, and his features are much more relaxed than Jason is used to. No dark circles beneath his closed eyes. He mouths words that are lost in the breeze.

Jason’s own gaze falls there for a moment, taking in the flushed colour of his lips. Something at the back of his mind chides him for looking, but it’s lost within a burgeoning warmth in his chest.

He’s lucky to have him here, someone as faithful and intelligent and honest—

Eyes blinking open, Tim notices him watching; his mouth tilts upward in amusement, and Jason’s heart seems to beat faster. The smaller man straightens up, leaving his offering behind him and wanders over, movements as smooth as a cat. And—

No, this isn’t a good idea, he’s supposed to be avoiding him, right? He can’t remember why, but—

“What are you thinking of?” Tim asks softly. “You’re supposed to be making sacrifices to your ancestor’s memory, not staring at your liegeman.” He adopts a severe expression. “It’s distracting me from being appropriately solemn.”

Jason shrugs, fond smile on his own face.

“He was happy, when he lived,” he says, nodding at the column where he knelt before. “And fortunate in finding a faithful companion, and a great poet to sing of his deeds after his death.”

“You say that as if you have neither,” Tim snorts.

“There are no more poets of merit to speak of my deeds. Everything is lost to the logical, pedantic record of history.”

“And there’s the sense of drama I was waiting for,” Tim deadpans. “You could always write the histories yourself.”

“Hah! You would say something like that. Always planning, aren’t you?”

“Well, someone has to.”

Jason rolls his eyes, and gestures with his hand that Tim should follow him. They amble down a grassy footpath, returning to the level ground where their horses wait for them. There are guards spread out around them, close enough to help if something should happen but far enough away, they can’t hear what’s said.

He approaches the massive black Thessalian, absently patting the ox-head brand on its haunch with one hand while his other reaches to detach a large cloth-wrapped package from his saddlebags.

Tim appears curious when Jason hands it to him.

“I made sacrifice at the temple this morning before we rode out and left them with one of my finest sets of armour,” he explains. “They insisted it was too much and that I should take something in return. This called to me.”

Tim opens the bundle, eyebrows raising at the bronze shield that gleams in the sun.

“It was found in the ruins of the great city herself after the battle. It made me think of you.”

“Oh?” Tim watches him from beneath hooded eyes, a delicate colour blooming across the bridge of his nose. “You think of me as a shield?”

“I think of you as my shield,” he corrects seriously. “I will always be a sword. I can’t be anything else, or others would see it as weakness. But you…you protect everything that I am, even from myself. You throw your own needs and wants to the dirt to raise up mine. You weather the anger of men who believe themselves to be greater. For my sake.”

Tim appears struck mute at this, clutching the shield to his body as he stares at Jason with shining eyes. His mouth parts several times, as if he’s trying to figure out what to say, and once again Jason’s gaze falls upon his lips.

Tim shoots a darting glance at the guards near them, and something like frustration passes across his features, mixing with calculation.

And then he’s grinning that sharp grin again, and Jason’s stomach flips pleasantly as it fixes on him. Tim sets the shield to one side with careful reverence and takes a step forward until their faces are within inches of one another.

Jason licks his lips, expectation weighing heavily on him, and waits for Tim to break the silence.

“I think we should run a race.”

Which...was not the response he was expecting. Jason blinks at the non sequitur. “What?”

“In the old style,” the younger man continues, setting the shield on the ground and backing away. He’s reaching for the belt of his tunic, eyes sparking with mischief and something else. “To honour our ancestors, of course.”

“Of course,” Jason agrees, and reaches for him, but Tim dances out of his way.

“Ah, no! You’re entirely to dressed for that.”

He’s jogging backwards now, and Jason laughs, reaching again for him, “Get back here—”

“You’ll have to catch me—”

“Hood!”

Jason gives a full-body jerk, dragged out of his reverie by a voice that is no longer laughing, but tense.

“Red Hood!”

The world returns to him, gritty and smelling like rancid trash and smoke. There are several bodies at his feet and the smell of blood in the air; he hears groaning, so he knows they’re alive. That should be a relief, somehow, except he’s distracted.

There’s someone standing in front of him, the height and build familiar, it could be him, except the eyes are wrong and he’s younger and—

Not him. Nothing like him.

For a beat Jason is irritated when he realises the person in front of him is not Tim, because he was sure he just heard him. On the heel of that annoyance is the realisation that he’s looming over a kid that can’t be more than a few years older than Damian, who’s staring at him with unbridled terror, pressing himself into the walls of the alley.

New kid on the corner. Johns were harassing him, so I taught them a lesson, but then…

Jason’s hand lingers in front of his face, inches away, fingers curved like they intend to brush the boy’s jawline.

Realisation hits at what he must look like, what the teenager must think, and it’s soon followed by disgust because he knows the motivation behind his current position. He pulls back, staring down at his hands in horror.

What the hell did I almost do?

“Hood, look at me,” Tim says, only it’s the Red Robin voice, growled from the shadows, and it sends a shiver up Jason’s spine.

He immediately turns to face him.

The nameless teen take off at a run, but that’s not important; what’s important is that Tim is here, barely three feet away. He moves to close the distance, posture open and soothing, and Jason is already relaxing in response, twitching to reach toward Tim’s outstretched hand.

And…no.

He should not be relaxing. He should not be reaching out or touching Tim in any way because—

Because…

It’s hard to think why, but then he remembers.

Because it’s not him who wants to, it’s the infection. And he might do something worse.

Jason’s entire body seizes up again, and he stumbles backward.

“Hood, it’s okay,” Tim says in a placating whisper. “I’m going to help you. I promise.”

And Jason wants to, he really does. Wants to just go with him, maybe let himself fall against his body in exhaustion, because Tim might be small but he’s strong and could hold him up and—

“Back off!” Jason snaps, both to himself and to Tim, who jerks as if he’s been slapped. The sight helps ground him a bit more. “You are the lastperson I should be around right now.”

“Ja—”

“No!”

He takes off. Doesn’t bother with shooting a line into the air—his hands are shaking too much for that—and just runs. He knows this place better than the other vigilante ever will, knows how to disappear even when being pursued by a Bat.

And right now, he needs to disappear.

Grotty buildings and dark alleys fly by him as he crashes through the backways.

This is better, just one foot in front of the other. The icy air in his lungs is painful, but the good kind—distracting. Waking him from whatever funk he was in.

What the hell was that before? A dream?

But he was awake. And since when are dreams, or even hallucinations, so cohesive? Sequential? He knows it happened like he was living it, though he can’t remember exactly anymore. The details are drifting away like sand grasped too tightly in a fist, but he remembers feelings. Warmth. Safety. Laughter.

And Tim smiling at him; everything else is hazy, but he remembers that detail without difficulty.

Jason’s stomach lurches, torn between something fond and possessive, and the sense of disgust crouching at the back of his mind and spreading through his body the more he thinks about it.

He has to stay away—from Tim, from anyone who looks like him. Just until he can figure out a fix (or hell, even afterward, just to be sure). No, wait, he can’t figure it out. It would involve investigation, chasing down leads, probably running into—

No. Better barricade himself in somewhere. Take himself out of the equation.

Tim will be fine to figure this out on his own—he said he was trying to help, which means he’s aware of what’s going on with Jason. Which, yes, is mortifying, but also a comfort, because he trusts the younger man to figure it out.

He wonders for a moment if that’s because of the growing fascination, and then decides it’s not. Even before, he’s had an inexplicable amount of faith in Tim’s abilities to plan and get results.

It’s why he wanted him to be his Robin.

Why he still wants—

“Damn it!” Jason growls, stopping for a moment to breathe and then to punch the nearest wall in frustration.

The comm in his ear buzzes to life.

“Red Hood?”

Not Tim, but Oracle.

“Tell me you found something,” he orders, trying to get his mounting panic under control.

“Not yet. I’ve got a lead that looks promising, but still waiting on confirmation,” Oracle replies. There’s a pause, and then when she speaks again, it’s without the voice synthesizer. “Tim told me what’s going on.”

Shame hits him. “Of course he did.”

“We want to help you, Jason. This isn’t something you have to go through on your own.”

“Tell me that the next time you get shot up with Olympian blood that makes you fixate on Huntress or Clayface or someone. I just need somewhere to ride this out—”

“I can think of somewhere that would be well-equipped.”

The Cave.

“No.”

“Now isn’t the time for your pride. If you really don’t want to hurt someone—to hurt Tim. Again. Your best bet is to get B’s help.”

The kicker is, Jason knows she’s right. And he’s off his game enough that all of his usual arguments and complaints and resentments just don’t seem to register. All that he can focus on right now is Tim—and wanting to do everything he can to stop obsessing over him.

To stop wanting him, wanting to touch and taste and—

“Damn it,” his says again, but this time it’s whispered, almost defeated.

Bruce is the only one Jason knows that will do anything in his power to stop him from becoming exactly the kind of monster he’s been fighting his whole life. Even if it means throwing him in Arkham until whatever is driving him insane gets fixed.

And even if it doesn’t…

He’ll lock me up and throw away the key to keep me from hurting Tim. And I’d let him.

“He’s enroute to you now,” Barbara says.

“Is the demon brat with him?”

“Yes.”

He remembers the terrified expression on the nameless teenager’s face as he reached out to him.

“Keep him away. I don’t…know what I might do.”

Barbara’s silence is heavy, and Jason feels a wave of disgust with himself rush over him.

“I’ve told B to send Robin to rendezvous with Red Robin,” she says, and it’s Oracle’s voice again. “He’ll be there in five minutes. Try not to bolt.”

It’s the longest five minutes of his life.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

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knotfodder · 1 year ago

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h3llostrang3r · 6 years ago

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A Lifetime to Remember

Perfect Match

Pairing: Dames x Mc Summary: One-Shot.Melina Park is searching for Dames. Word Count: 3,800 Warnings: Language,Sexual content implied(I don’t think it’s anything more explicit than what you would find in a Choices 30 diamond scene.) Notes: I miss Dames. I still haven’t forgiven PB. I give them all my monies and they couldn’t give me Dames during the finale.

Do you ever have the feeling that someone is watching you? You know, when you get those urges to look over your shoulder even though no one has called out your name. Did you really see something out of the corner of your eye or was your mind playing tricks? Or when you suddenly look up from whatever you were concentrating on because you could just feel a pair of eyes locked on to you. Like you can just feel the heat from their body and it sends a thrilling chill right through you? I have been feeling this more and more every day for the past few months.

Maybe I’m paranoid. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. But it feels so incredibly real to me.

I’ve spent countless hours online searching for him…

Keegan hasn’t spoken to me since we took down Rowan and Cecile. She won’t give me any information on what happened to him. I’ve reached out to her and those I’ve found connected to her, but nothing. I don’t know why she’s ignoring me, I proved myself to her before - that I’m on her and all the matches side.

No signs of him and no body found. What the hell is that supposed to mean? I can’t think the worst. I refuse. I know he’s stronger than that. I need to know if Keegan or someone was able to fix his programing, he could have lost so much of what he had by now. He has to be out there somewhere …

That’s why I have spent so much of my down time online. Throwing myself out there. My online alias spreading like wildfire, ThePurpleHairPark. I’m in chat rooms, forums, social media outlets - there’s always someone watching,reading,lurking from behind their screen. The world knows about the matches and there are so many out there helping them. So there has to be someone that has seen him. All I need is one person to point me in the right direction. Or he can come find me. I know he knows how to. Or at least his past memories would.

Can anyone help me? Actually help me? The conspiracies, the theories, they’re insightful, but I need something more.

Where are you, Dames?

Please. I need you …

Melina sits back in her chair staring at the screen. She sighs heavily before she deletes the plead and publishes her newest post to her open forum. Her purple hair slightly covers her face as she hangs her head low. Some strand clinging to her cheeks as tears start to roll down her face. After a deep breath she wipes the tears and gets up to refill on her iced tea.

Melina was at the coffee shop close by to her apartment almost every day. Always getting looks from the customers coming in and out of the shop. She was never quite sure what they thought of her and her laptop sitting in her favorite spot by the window. She didn’t really care, she just wanted to make sure that she could be seen. Her goal was to be seen by him, by Dames.

As Melina stood in line, she checked her phone. No missed calls or texts from Damien. He had been so busy with work since they saved the President, she was thrilled that Damien’s business was booming, but it made it harder for them to make time for each other. They didn’t mind their low-key nights in just them, some takeout (Melina’s cooking still not improving, whoops) and a movie while snuggling on the couch. Yet, with Damien’s ever growing case files he would often come home, grab a snack and head straight to bed. Damien was still supportive of Melina spending time with Hayden, but even she seemed to be too busy for Melina lately.

Melina orders her iced tea - which is on the house, her friend Lily is now working at the register. Lily gives her a wink and flashes her a smile as she shoos Melina along. Melina mouths a, “thank you” as goes to wait for her drink.

Melina never minded being alone and single. There was always something to do, always a way to entertain herself or keep busy until she heard from one of her friends. So why was it now, when she had two loves in her life she felt most lonely? Even Nadia found time to be with Steve and his… abs. Luckily, her cousin would always make time for her at least once a week. But ever since they came out from hiding from Eros’ radar , life never went back to being carefree for Melina.

Her heart had been so full from being loved without judgement from two amazing people in her life, but now that love - where did it go? Had she expected too much? Was it unreasonable of her to want to see them more than 2 or 3 times a week? Melina’s mind often drifted to Dames when she was alone. There was still that spot in her heart reserved just for him. Which often ached at the thought of him, not knowing where he was or if he was even okay.

She had to find him. She needed the answer. Even if he didn’t want to see her again or even want to be with her, she just wanted him to be okay.

Her name is called and she grabs her rather large drink and heads back to her spot. She stares at her computer a few moments - and there. That feeling. Her face grows warm, her heart begins to beat a little faster, the hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. Her eyes look up from under her long eyelashes - slowly scanning the faces in front of her, nothing. She slowly turns her head to the left, no one looking at her. Her back is against a wall so it definitely was not coming from behind. Melina bites her lip as she returns her gaze back to her computer. No, no, that feeling is still there.

She froze - too scared to turn her head again. Move your damn head, Melina. Do it. She ordered herself internally. Did her body know something her mind didn’t? She blinked and a tear began to fall. Exhale, Melina - slowly she let out the breath she was holding. Her body relaxed and she allowed herself to look to her right, out the window she always had to sit by.

There he was across the street, just staring at her with his hands in his pockets and a sad look on his face. That creep, that handsome fucking creep.

“Dames…” she breathlessly says out loud. Her eyes grow wide, she has to hurry or she’ll miss him. RUN she screams in her head, RUN MELINA. She scrambles out of her seat, almost knocking her laptop off the table, but she doesn’t care. Her feet threaten to trip over each other, but she corrects herself. She pushes the coffee shop door open hard and fast, if there was someone about to get hit there was no way she was going to notice. She looks across the street again, he’s not there.

No. Fuck this noise. He’s not getting away without saying a word to me.

Melina’s feet take her to the busy New York street. Her first few steps are in the clear. “Dames” she cries out with every ounce of her heart and soul. “Dames, please.” Her next few steps just miss a car passing by. Her head is spinning, the cars honking in the background seem so far away. The yelling from the other pedestrians not even registering. Her feet stay planted in the street as she frantically looks as to which direction he could have gone.

The honking becomes louder and louder, her ears now pounding. That’s when she looks to her right and coming straight for her is a yellow taxi. Time starts to slow, her breath catches - she can’t move, she wants to scream. Then the feeling, when you can feel the heat of their body against yours. Except this time - it’s real. Her focus goes to him, but is blurred in a flash.

Dames grabs her at incredible speed and throws them both safely to the sidewalk. He envelopes her in his strong arms and shields her from the fall on to the hard concrete. Her legs sting, but that pain is far away from her mind. He holds her for a long time, her face nuzzled in his chest. Her arms tucked between their bodies, her hands gripping for dear life onto his jacket. She inhales his scent, that mix of cologne and rum that reminds her of that blissful night in Paris. In his arms felt so right, she could melt into his touch and not move for hours - but she could live without the dirty sidewalk.

“Dames…” She manages to whisper, “I thought I lost you.” Her body trembles in his arms as the reality hits her. He is here, he is real, he is alive. She lifts her head from it’s safe space. Oh what she would give to kiss along that jaw and to his mouth. To sink into his lips and wrap her arms around him and never let go.

“Melina what the hell were you thinking?” His face so close to hers, his eyes filled with concern. He brings his hand up to her face to brush back her hair and it lingers as he cups her jaw. Did he dare move his face any closer? Threatening to crash his lips against hers and tangle his hands in her hair, bringing her closer to him and never leave her again.

Before she can answer they are being helped up by onlookers. Her gaze doesn’t move from him, she’s not losing him again. She thanks them and brushes them off as she moves closer to him - if he tries to run she thinks she can be quick enough to grab him by the jacket.

“Please, Dames. Just come to my apartment. Y-you don’t have to s-stay. I …” She drops her head for a moment as she lets out a deep sigh. Looking into his eyes - God, is this real? Is he really in front of me? She says, “I just want to know you’re okay. Our last talk to each other, that wasn’t fair - it wasn’t right. That’s not how things were suppo-”

“Melina…” The way he said her name made her heart skip a beat. “I’ll come with you. We can talk, I promise.” She nodded her head, still in disbelief. Instinctively, her hand intertwined with his. “Do you want to grab your laptop?” He asked as he motioned to the coffee shop.

“I’m not crossing that street again, today. I’ll text Lily to hang on to it for me.”

The walk back to Melina’s apartment was silent, apart from the noise from the city, but it didn’t phase either of them. Absentmindedly their thumbs would graze one anothers - fingers still laced together. When they reached her apartment Melina led the way, giving her hips an extra sway for him as they climbed the stairs. She wanted him to watch, and she knew he would. It took her a moment to fetch her keys from her crossbody purse and unlock her door, the adrenaline was kicking in again. This is a part of her life Dames hasn’t experienced first hand. This moment would be intimate one for both of them.

They made their way inside, Dames moved towards her living room, taking it all in. With her eyes closed, Melina slowly closed the door imagining Dames moving closer to her. His hands on either side of the door frame, closing in on her. His chest pressed against her back, his pelvis against her backside, and his lips hovering so close to her ear. She would turn around to face him and that’s when he would press her hard against the door, his lips kissing hers and his hands gripping her hips as hers would tug on his collar.

“This is a really nice place, Melina.” Dames says, snapping Melina out of her thoughts.

“Ya, thanks. Over here is the kitchen… Where I keep the rum. I need a shot, do you want a shot?” Her heart is beating so fast, her hands begin to shake. She makes her way to the cupboards and pulls out two shot glasses and his favorite rum. He sits on a barstool on the other side of her counter, one elbow propped up.

“Melina, are you alright?” His voice is filled with concern as he watches her move quickly.

“Mmhmm. I just, need to calm my nerves. It’s been so long and it’s all happening so fast.” She pours the shots and slides one over to him. He takes his and stares at it for a moment before he returns his attention to her. She raises her glass to him before throwing back the shot. He quietly lets out a sigh, then follows suit. She’s already pouring herself another round and is quick to refill his. The second shot burns her throat, but seems to do its job as it settles her down. She looks into his eyes and she can see the pain in his eyes. The pain he’s been feeling since Paris, since they left him behind in Tokyo to fight Cecile and all those matches. Her breath hitches when he takes her hand into his.

“C’mon, let’s go sit down. Okay?” He says as he leads her from the kitchen to the couch in her living room.

They settle onto the couch, space between them, but their knees slightly brush against the other as they face each other. Her arms are crossed against her body, gently tucked beneath her heaving chest. His hands are placed on his thighs, rubbing back and forth - not sure how he should proceed.

“Dames, where the hell have you been?” Melina breaks the silence, he can hear the hurt in her voice. “I have been endlessly searching for you, hoping and praying that you were alive and until today I’ve had no fucking luck.” The tears start to form in her eyes and her voices begins to shake. “Why now? I know you’ve been in contact with Keegan. Why have you been avoiding me when you know how to get a hold of me? Why? Why?” The tears fall and her cheeks are wet, she can’t wipe them away fast enough. They just won’t stop.

He hates to see her like this, it hurts him to see her cry. He wants to just wrap her in his arms again and bury his face into her hair. He wants to make her pain end, but he’s the one who did this to her - it’s his fault. It’s all his fucking fault. Fuck it, he thinks as he reaches for her and wraps her into a hug. He gently rocks her and she cries even harder. He whispers “I’m sorry” over and over into her ear. It’s not enough, she deserves more than just his words, even if he means it with every ounce of his fabricated heart and soul. “I’m so fucking sorry, Melina.” He says before she pulls back.

She wants him to look her in the eyes when he tells her why. Why he hid from her all this time without one single word, even if those words were “fuck off”, but he didn’t even give her that.

“Melina, I’m so sorry. I was a coward. I was scared to come back to you when I knew my time was coming end. Knowing I only had months to retain all my past memories and feelings. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t bring myself to be near you and lose you all over again.” Melina couldn’t believe what ehe was hearing. He didn’t even attempt to let them try -

“I eventually came into contact with Kaahn. I didn’t know if he could help me, but I couldn’t let Cecile and Rowan win. I couldn’t go down without some sort of fighting chance.” He sighed as he took Melina’s hands into his. They were so much smaller, and they were so soft. He loved how such a simple touch from her brought such warmth to him.

Her eyes grew wide, fucking Kaahn talked to Dames and he didn’t say a word?When Dames took her hands and it relaxed her for a moment, but she was still in shock. Who the hell did Kaahn think he was? “He attempted to fix my programming. Today is the last day before the original’s program was set to erase everything. Unfortunately, Kaahn doesn’t know if his override will work. I’m scheduled to… ‘reset’ if you will, at midnight. It won’t be until I wake up will I know if it worked. ”

Her world was flipping upside down. Her head was spinning, her heart was breaking, what was she supposed to do with this information? She finally had Dames back, but tonight he could be gone all over again. This wasn’t fair , Dames didn’t deserve any of this. He brushed her hair from her face, he wanted to comfort her as best as he could. He had already accepted what might happen to him, but this was all so much for Melina. He didn’t want her to have to endure all this. This wasn’t something she needed to worry about, she didn’t need to fuss over him.

“Stay with me.” Her eyes pleaded, her lips slightly parted in anticipation of his answer. “I know you wanted me to see you today. I know you weren’t expecting me to run like a mad woman into traffic, but …” she licked her lips and Dames let out a soft groan at the sight. “Please, stay. You’re finally here and I don’t think I can let you go.”

“What about Damien?” He questioned, his feelings for Melina meant the world to him, but he could never come between her and the person who he had to thank and curse for all these wonderful feelings.

She shook her head and said, “He’s surprisingly very open to me having intimate feelings for others. I don’t think you would be an exception. And it’s not about Damien right now. It’s about me and you right now, and right now I want to spend what could be last moments in your arms… if you want that too.”

That was all he needed to hear. He slowly closed the space between them, Melina’s sweet scent filling his senses, making his head swim. His lips found hers, they tasted like rum with a hint of peach from her iced tea that she had been drinking earlier. Her moan sent a tingle through his body. He needed more of her, but he was worried of what would come in the morning. Dames broke away from the kiss and asked, “Melina, are you okay with keeping it light? I want to be with you so badly, but it’s not fair to you if I won’t have any memories in the morning. I …” Dames hung his head low, scared to meet his gaze with hers. Her warm hands cupped his face and she lifted his chin until he finally looked her in the eyes.

“I am perfectly fine with being held in your arms all night long, but don’t stop kissing me.” Dames stood up and brought Melina to her feet and embraced her in a hug. He lifted her up and she hooked her legs around his waist holding on to him like she would never let go, burying her face in his neck. He led them to the bedroom where they laid in bed all night intertwined. Both Melina and Dames fighting the urge to fall asleep. Their eyelids heavy, but their lips still finding each other. Both whispering each others names on their skin, and their lips. They both succumbed to sleep, the mental exhaustion too much for them to bear any longer.

When Melina wakes up she’s not sure what time it is. She can feel the warmth of the sun peeking through her curtains. Her face is still buried in Dames chest, her new favorite place to rest her head. She’s afraid to move, not knowing what will happen if she wakes him up. Will it be him? Will he remember her and the enchanting night they just had. Just him and her wrapped in each other, never letting go. She wants to cry, the anticipation driving her mad, she didn’t want this to end. She didn’t want to lose Dames again.

Moments passed and finally, he began to stir. She held her breath, this was it, the moment of truth. What would she even say if he didn’t recognize her - she guessed she could call Kaahn or Keegan and they would know what to do. Fuck. Why did it have to be this way? Why did this even have to be a thought?

She felt pressure on the top of her head. Was that? Was that a kiss? Another, and another on her temple. She couldn’t move, does he remember?

“Melina.” He whispers in her vibrant purple locks. She looks up, and he’s smiling the brightest smile she’s ever seen. He’s beautiful, he’s perfect, he’s ….

“I remember. Everything.” He can’t stop smiling, his head clear of the fog that was his limited programing. Lifetime upon lifetime worth of memory just waiting to be stored. Kaahn did it.

“Stay with me.” Her voice gentle, she didn’t ask, she wanted him to know she wanted him.

“As long as you want me, I will always be here for you, Melina.” His lips found hers over and over again. They trailed along her jaw and down her neck. She moaned his name and begged for more. Piece by piece their clothes made their way to her bedroom floor. His groans grew louder the lower his kisses wandered. Her skin was soft, she was so beautiful and her taste was like ecstasy on his tongue. Melina’s moans drove him to please her harder and harder until she was trembling against his mouth.

“I want all of you, Dames. Please. I need you..” She begged between her panting breaths.

Dames kissed Melina ever so gently as he made his way between her legs. Their moans mingling as they moved against one another. Melina savored the pressure of Dames’ muscular body on top of her’s. She held him close, not wanting to let go. He was finally back in her life and to stay this time.

Dames is here, he is real, Dames is alive.

#perfect match #dames x mc #playchoices #30 diamond scene #long post #h3llostrang3r writes

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ladynonsense · 6 years ago

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8 Nights in Paradise (Perfect Match, Khaan x m!MC)

This is the first fic I’m writing with my male Perfect Match MC, Reggie! I’ll keep his separate from my f!MC Rory in my masterlist, and you can assume he’s in his own little universe (but honestly both his and Rory’s stories mostly stick to canon).

So here’s my little retelling of the “moments in-between” during that gang’s stay in Indonesia. Enjoy!

Pairing: m!MC x Khaan Mousavi

Rating: PG-13

Genre: is sexual tension a genre because that’s what you’re getting

Words: 2000

Tags: @choiceslife @blackcoffee85

Day 1

Reggie hung back from the group as they headed out of the cave, hoping to steal a moment with a certain someone. Khaan hesitated to follow the others, glancing back at Reggie, who grinned in return.

“I can’t believe you wouldn’t strip down like the rest of us,” he teased.

“The water is freezing in here, Reggie.” His voice was serious but the corners of his mouth were creeping up into a smile. “I bet you wish you were wearing a sweater right about now.”

Reggie rubbed his wet, bare arms, starting to shiver. “Actually...I do.”

“Oh...well then...” Khaan pulled off his cardigan and wrapped it around Reggie’s goosebump-covered shoulders, his hands lingering for just a moment too long before pulling away. “Is that better?”

“Much...” their eyes met and their walking slowed, and suddenly Reggie felt like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

Khaan’s gentle chuckle broke the sudden and unexpected tension. He shoved his hands in his pockets bashfully. “We should get back before we both get chilled to the bone.” And so they walked back, shoulder to shoulder, perfectly in time to each other.

Back at the house, Reggie headed straight for the shower, washing the seawater from his skin and letting the hot water warm his shivering body. The bathroom filled with steam as he pressed his forehead to the shower wall. Dizzy, light-headed even. Was it from the heat, or from him?

He shook his head, trying to snap out of the spell he’d been put under. He turned the water off and dried himself with a towel before slipping on some fresh boxers and wrapping himself back in Khaan’s sweater. Back in his room he found the bed uncharacteristically empty, Sloane and Hayden’s voices drifting in from the kitchen where they were still chatting and laughing.

Exhausted and a little relieved, he curled up under the blanket alone, pulling the sweater over his face and breathing deep of the sweet smell of sandalwood and some exotic incense he couldn’t quite place as he drifted off to sleep.

Day 4

“Don’t listen to any of them,” Reggie insisted, turning away from his traitorous friends. “I’m an excellent cook.”

Khaan looked up for only a split second, barely meeting his eyes before turning his head back towards to the vegetables he was expertly chopping, trying to conceal the dopey grin on his face. Reggie felt his heart leap up in his chest at that tiny look, and mentally chastised himself for being such a hopeless softie.

“I would never doubt you, Reggie.” Khaan thrust a potato at him, not meeting his eyes. “Peel and dice this for me?”

“Last time I saw him try to peel a potato, I ended up driving him to the emergency room,” Damien announced from the living room. Hayden and Sloane giggled, and Reggie groaned.

“That was two years ago, can you please not...” Suddenly Khaan’s hand was wrapped around his own and he lost all powers of speech.

"Don’t use that knife,” he said warmly, nothing in his voice mocking or cruel. “There’s a great peeler here, see?” He handed him the peeler and got back to chopping carrots, Reggie still breathless from the small and unexpected touch.

He focused all his attention on the potato, trying not to think about those long, slender fingers that had held his own, and the only things they might do to him, given a chance.

Day 6

“You’re not staying?” Damien sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes. The sight of his bare chest and wild hair made Reggie bite his lip, reconsidering. He walked back to the bed and placed a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s just Hayden...I’m worried about her.”

Damien nodded sleepily, settling back into his bed. “I know. Go take care of her.”

Reggie tip-toed out of Damien’s room and into the living room, where Hayden was curled up on the couch all alone. He sat gingerly on the edge of a cushion, softly stroking her hair. She stirred but didn’t wake.

“How’s she doing?” a gentle voice asked. Reggie blushed; he was dressed in only his underwear, not having planned on encountering anyone other than his girlfriends.

“She’s OK, I hope,” he half-whispered, trying to act natural despite the blush blooming all the way from his cheeks down to his neck and chest. Khaan leaned against the doorframe to the kitchen, hands in his pockets, watching from a distance.

“I wish she would let us run some diagnostics...”

He stood, moving away from Hayden so as to not disturb her. “She doesn’t want anyone in her head, is all. I can’t say I blame her.”

“That’s fair,” Khaan sighed. “I can’t say I ever imagined them becoming this autonomous. She really is incredible.”

Reggie nodded, still moving slowly towards where Khaan stood. “And what about you?”

Khaan straightened up, brow furrowed. “What about me?”

Feeling bold, Reggie stepped closer, a little too close to be casual. Khaan held his breath. “You made the matches what they are. You made life. You’re pretty incredible yourself.”

He stared up into Reggie’s eyes for a long moment, speechless. “Reggie,” he breathed, finally.

“Khaan.” He leaned against the top of the door frame, biting his lip as he stared down the man in front of him.

Khaan reached out and squeezed his hand gently before letting it go. “Good night, Reggie.” He turned and walked away without another word.

Day 7

“Oof!” Reggie hit the ground with a thud, whatever air wasn’t knocked out of his lungs from the fall being squeezed out by Khaan on top of him. He gasped for air as his sparring partner finally let up the pressure.

“Not gonna let me win to boost my confidence? I heard that’s a great learning technique...”

Khaan leaned forward, his gaze intense. “Not when I’m trying to impress you, Reggie.” His voice was hoarse and low, and the air between them felt charged as they both caught their breath.

“...Oh.”

Khaan bit his lip and looked away, trying to contain the sly grin spreading across his face. “Anywho...” He offered Reggie his hand, helping him to his feet without meeting his eyes. They dusted the sand off their clothes before he cleared his throat and continued. “You did great. One of these days, you might even beat me.”

Reggie reached out to brush a stray leaf off of Khaan’s shoulder. “Looking forward to it.”

Khaan winked at him before turning back to the group. “Fantastic training, everyone! Coconut water on me!”

They fell into step beside each other, following behind the others once more. “So...about last night.”

Reggie swallowed hard. “Yes?”

“Does she always sleep out on the couch like that?”

“Oh...she has been lately. She’s waking up a lot. I told her she doesn’t have to leave, but...” They both looked over at Hayden, cheerfully bargaining for coconuts. “Anyway...”

“That’s not all I wanted to talk about.” He stopped walking, letting the others lose them. “I feel like we should address...”

“We don’t have to...”

“We should, though. Reggie, I...”

“Reggie!” Sloane called, jogging back towards them. “I thought you were heading back with us. I was hoping to invite you snorkeling with me, if you’re not too busy this afternoon...” She looked nervously between the two of them.

“Oh, of course!” Reggie took Sloane’s hand, thankful for the reprieve from the awkward conversation. “I’ll see you later tonight, Khaan?”

“Right...of course. See you then.” Khaan forced a warm smile and jogged away from them, eyes cast down towards the sand as he returned to the house.

Day 8

“No plans tonight?” Khaan looked up at Reggie, who had just plopped himself down dramatically on the couch next to him.

“None. Hit the hiking trails with Damien earlier and now I’m beat. I’m not moving from this couch unless I absolutely have to.”

“Well, I hope you don’t mind me keeping you company, since I was here first.” Khaan smiled at him over his laptop.

“Of course not. In fact, I insist.” Reggie settled in against the cushions with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “So...find anything good in the Eros files?”

“Nothing too compelling so far. Lots of data to sift through.” Khaan sighed and closed the laptop, setting it down on the coffee table. “Maybe I could use a break.”

Reggie turned to face Khaan on the couch, pulling his legs up under himself and leaning into the plush cushions. “You absolutely do. Let’s talk about something other than Eros.”

Khaan’s eyes traveled conspicuously over Reggie’s body, lingering a little too long at his lightly parted lips. “What would you like to talk about?” He turned towards him, sitting cross-legged on the cushion.

“Hmmm...” Reggie adjusted himself, inching forward just a little. “Tell me about your next project.”

He laughed. “Next project? I just launched a massive VR game; don’t I get a little time to come up with my next idea?”

“You seem like a guy with plenty of ideas. What would you do next if you could just follow your passion and not worry about anything else?”

He considered silently for a moment, as Reggie wondered what brilliant ideas and schemes were whirling around in his brain. Finally he answered.

“I would do this.”

And then his lips were pressed against Reggie’s, softly, hesitantly at first, his strong hands lightly holding him by the shoulders. A soft groan of pleasure arose from deep in Reggie’s chest and he wrapped his arms around Khaan, deepening the kiss with a hunger that surprised even himself.

In a moment he found himself lying back on the couch, Khaan’s warm body on top of his, hands in each other’s hair and long legs intertwined. The building heat left him breathless as he pulled him closer, letting his hands slip under his shirt to the warmth of his skin beneath.

Khaan gasped and pulled away, propping himself up with one arm. “Reggie,” he whispered, “I’m sorry, I...”

“Boooys, we’re home!” Khaan jumped to his feet as Reggie scrambled to sit up. Hayden and Sloane were already skipping through the front door, arm-in-arm and giggling. “What have you two been up to tonight?” Hayden asked, raising an eyebrow at Reggie.

“Just taking a break from saving the world,” Reggie answered, smoothing his clothes. “How was horseback riding?”

“It was amazing,” Sloane answered, sitting down and pulling out her phone. “I took so many photos! Let me show you...”

“Hey, maybe we should get to bed and do this in the morning?” Hayden gently pulled Sloane to her feet, nudging her towards the bedroom. “Let these two finish catching up.”

“Oh, but it’ll just take a...”

“Good night, Sloane!” Reggie chirped, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ to Hayden as she whisked Sloane towards the bedroom, still protesting.

He reached for Khaan’s hand and pulled him back down to the couch. “Where were we?”

Khaan raised his hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his palm. Reggie’s pulse quickened as he held his wrist, his lips lingering against his sensitive skin. But then he let go, standing back up. “We were about to say good night.”

Reggie frowned, standing to look Khaan in the eye once more. “I don’t want to say good night.”

Khaan took a deep, steadying breath, avoiding his gaze. “Neither do I,” he whispered, “But I’m not ready for this right now. I shouldn’t have...”

“Please don’t say that.” Reggie kept his distance, not wanting to push his boundaries, but the sudden space between them felt like torture. To his relief, Khaan smiled warmly and took his hand once more.

“You’re right. Regret is pointless.” He leaned into him, pausing only when his lips were so close to Reggie’s they nearly brushed together when he spoke again. “It felt wonderful to finally kiss you.” He chuckled softly. “And now I’m going to bed.”

Finally, Reggie remembered how to breathe. He struggled to compose himself and offer a warm smile in return. “Good night, Khaan.”

“Good night, Reggie.”

#perfect match #khaan mousavi #khaan x mc #khaan x m!mc #choices fan fic #playchoices

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storytimefromthecreed · 6 years ago

Text

You Might Not Like Me

Mini Dodds. (Y/N) rolled her eyes. Liv looked between (Y/N), Mini Dodds, and Dodds Senior before nodding. “Yeah. Dodds, uh go with Carisi to the hotel. (Y/N), hold down the fort.” She was seething, glaring at the back of Dodd’s head as the team walked to the elevator and she hung around Carisi’s desk. With a cross of her arms, she sat in the chair, and waited for them to return. She answered phone calls, filed, cleaned, basically anything to pass the time until they returned.

"In situations like these, we have to go slow.” Sonny’s voice echoed into the bullpen, and (Y/N) perked up.

“He’s a good friend of my father’s.” Dodds’s voice sounded behind his, and (Y/N) growled. Mini Dodds!

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Sonny bound in, all smiles. She rose from his desk and handed him a file.

“This should help. I got the records from the-”

“There’s no need.” Dodds cut her off. Puffing up his chest, he said, “My father was able to get us the tapes.” Dodds spotted Liv in her office, grabbed the pen and file out of her hands, and headed that way. Sonny and (Y/N) stared at one another.

“Don’t make that face.” Sonny began. “You’re glaring.”

“He’s been here, what? A day? He’s already so annoying.”

“He’s not that bad.” Sonny said, but (Y/N) glaring up at him made him bite his tongue. “But what do I know? Hey. Did it get cleaner in here?”

....

“Good work, (Y/N).” Olivia gave her a smile. “You did good work out there.”

“Thanks, Lui.” (Y/N) walked out of the office and headed towards Amanda’s desk. Amanda, Dodds, and Sonny were gathered there. Dodds stood with his back to her.

“I mean, it wasn’t that hard. If my father hadn’t opened the door, we wouldn’t have gotten anywhere.”

“Aye! The ‘ero!” Sonny opened his arms wide, a bright expression on his face. “Good work.”

Amanda whirled around, her face just as excited. “I hear you did great work. I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks guys.” (Y/N) grinned. She was finally spreading her wings in SVU, and she was proud of the work she’d done.

“You did good.” Dodds checked his phone. “For a rookie. Hey!” He waved at his dad and looked back at his phone. “Gotta go. Hey, can I borrow this?” Dodds grabbed the pen out of her hand without waiting for an answer, and followed his father who had just walked into the bullpen.

“(Y/N),” Sonny cautioned. “Your face.”

“I’m going to kill him, Sonny.” (Y/N) muttered. Amanda chuckled. “Amanda, hold me back.”

....

“(Y/N) would make a good UC for this.” (Y/N) could hear Liv when she walked past her office. Yes! Liv was trusting her with more cases!

“Uh- I’m not sure, Lieutenant. All due respect, but she’s a little...” Dodds trailed off. “Besides, I’m sure Carisi and I have it handled. I also know some cadets. I could make some calls.”

“Whatever you need to close this case.”

(Y/N) stormed off, fueled by the fire burning in her gut. Mini Dodds strikes again! Making a beeline to Sonny’s desk, she pulled out the file tucked under her arm. “Fin said you needed this.” (Y/N) handed Sonny a pen. “I need this signed, like yesterday.” (Y/N)’s eyes went to Amanda’s empty desk and she frowned. “Any word?”

“Not yet.” Sonny said, “Thanks for saving my tail on these. I always forget.”

“You shouldn’t be doing those for Carisi.” Dodds walked in, and the pair stopped and stared at him. He looked undisturbed by their expressions. “What? It’s common knowledge that you do Carisi’s files and he does your timecard. Just don’t be so open about it.” Dodds continued on his way, his nose buried in his notes. “Can I borrow this?” He reached for her pen and she handed it without a retort. “Thanks.” Then he was gone.

“(Y/N), ya face. Will you?”

“It’s my face, Sonny. I’ll control it if I want to.”

....

“The food just got here.” Fin rubbed his hands together in delight. “Hey, Carisi. Do me a favor and get this to the kitchen. I gotta sign these.” Fin looked at her and she dug her hands into her pocket. Drawing up empty, Fin shook his head in mock disappointment. He dug into his own pockets, came up empty, and took one of the crappy ones off the front desk. “Come on man, you have one job here.”

“I know Fin!” (Y/N) growled and stalked into the kitchen. Sonny was opening up the plates and silverware. Alarm crossed his face when she entered, and he leaned against the counter, watching the exchange.

“I’m kidding, (Y/N). You know we value you.” Fin said calmly, but (Y/N) was already fired up.

“No, Fin! It’s not that! It’s Dodds!” Both men just watched her rant, wide eyed, casting a look to one another before staring at her. She probably looked crazy, but she didn’t care. “He butts me out of the cases, he won’t pair up with me, and he’s always talking like he’s better than everyone! Oh my God, if I hear him talk about ‘his father” one more time! Come on, dude! Construct a thought of your own! I mean, I know you daddy got you this job, but at least act like you want to be here rather than this being a rung on the ladder of success you’ve already got access to! And my pens! MY GOD DAMN PENS! He’s always stealing them, and I never see them again! I know he gets paid more than I do, WHY CAN’T HE BUY HIS OWN PENS?!”

She pulled out the chair, sat violently, and pulled the bag of food towards her. Slowly, as to not bring her attention to them, Fin and Sonny sat across from her and ate silently.

....

“Merry Christmas!” Sonny wore a goofy Santa hat and red tie. Fin was dressed in his “good” shirt. Liv was spending the holiday at home with her son. “The food is set up, you’re late! Go put your Secret Santa gift over there,” he pointed to the front desk. “and can you please wear a hat too? Fin said we both would but-”

“Carisi, you know this is my good shirt. I can’t cheap it down with a tacky hat.”

“Fine, go get me a hat, Sonny.” Sonny grinned and headed away. With his body no longer obstructing her view, (Y/N) could see her desk. Moreover, the gift on her desk. A silver bag with green tissure paper and a green bow on it. She looked at Fin and he shrugged and went to the kitchen.

(Y/N) made her way to the bag. No card. No name. If must be for her, she thought. Afterall, it was on her desk. Green was her favorite color. She dug into the bag and found-

“Aren’t we supposed to open gifts later?” Dodds’s voice made her jump. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sargeant!” Her hand went over her heart. It was hammering in her chest. “You just- I was just-” She looked at the bag again and noticed that Dodds stood taller and straighter than normal. He was waiting for her to do something. Open it.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” His voice quivered with nerves.

“Did you- is this?” She composed herself, disbelief colored her tone and face. “How do I know this is mine?”

“Open it and find out.”

“What if it’s not?”

“You think too much.” Dodds gingerly swiped the bag from her desk and put it in her hands. “It’s yours. From me.” He smiled, “You’ve been nothing but nice to me, showing me the ropes, helping me out.” This was a flat out lie. She’s never worked a case with him and barely spoke to him when he was around her. It wasn’t until his eyes widened and he blushed that she realized she had spoken aloud.

“Wow.”

“I’m sorry, Sargeant. I- it was kind of you to get me anything.” (Y/N) looked at his shoes. He wasn’t wearing his work ones.

“Please. Call me Mike.” He smiled. “Open it. I hope you like it. If you don’t, I’ll just get you something else.” Mike smiled at her, nodded, and then headed to the party. (Y/N) looked at the bag in her hands, and set it on the table. Beneath the green wrapping was an opal ring, a cute wallet which was handy since she had lost hers during a case, a candle, and a thick package of pens. Her favorite brand.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Sonny asked, holding out the red and white hat. They were standing alone in the bullpen. The party could be heard. “What is that? Disgust? Shock?” He gestured to her face, confused. Sonny’s voice dropped, and he grew serious. “Were you threatened?”

(Y/N)’s mouth gapped, open and shut, attempting to form the words. But what could she say. “I think- I think I was wrong.” She couldn’t understand the flutter of butterfly wings expanding and taking flight in her chest, but she wanted to. (Y/N) looked in the kitchen and could see Mike looking at her. He had watched her open the gift, and for the first time since he had joined, (Y/N) smiled at him.

#mike dodds #My writing #law and order svu #sonny carisi #amanda rollins #You Might Not Like Me

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hereticaloracles · 6 years ago

Text

Asteroid Files: Medusa

Helios on Medusa– Fuck it. We’re doing Medusa.

The Astronomy– 149 Medusa is a bright-colored, stony main-belt asteroid named after the Gorgon Medusa, a snake-haired monster in Greek mythology. When it was discovered, Medusa was by far the smallest asteroid found (although this was not known at that time). Since then, many thousands of smaller asteroids have been found. It was also the closest asteroid to the Sun discovered up to that point, beating the long-held record of 8 Flora. It remained the closest asteroid to the Sun until 433 Eros and 434 Hungaria were found, leading to the discovery of two new families of asteroids inward from the 4:1 Kirkwood gap which forms the boundary of the main belt.

Photometric observations of this asteroid gave a light curve with a rather long rotation period of 26.038 ± 0.002 hours and a brightness variation of 0.56 ± 0.03 in magnitude. It has an orbital period of 3.21 years or about 1171 days.

The Myth– In Greek mythology, Medusa (“guardian, protectress”) was a Gorgon, generally described as a winged human female with living venomous snakes in place of hair. Gazers upon her face would turn to stone. Most sources describe her as the daughter of Phorcys and Ceto, though the author Hyginus makes her the daughter of Gorgon and Ceto. Medusa was beheaded by the hero Perseus, who thereafter used her head, which retained its ability to turn onlookers to stone, as a weapon until he gave it to the goddess Athena to place on her shield. In classical antiquity, the image of the head of Medusa appeared in the evil-averting device known as the Gorgoneion.

The three Gorgon sisters—Medusa, Stheno, and Euryale—were all children of the ancient marine deities Phorcys and his sister Ceto, chthonic monsters from an archaic world. While ancient Greek vase-painters and relief carvers imagined Medusa and her sisters as beings born of monstrous form, sculptors and vase-painters of the fifth century began to envisage her as being beautiful as well as terrifying. In an ode written in 490 BC Pindar already speaks of “fair-cheeked Medusa”.

In a late version of the Medusa myth, related by the Roman poet Ovid (Metamorphoses 4.770), Medusa was originally a ravishingly beautiful maiden, “the jealous aspiration of many suitors,” but because Poseidon had raped her in Athena’s temple, the enraged Athena transformed Medusa’s beautiful hair to serpents and made her face so terrible to behold that the mere sight of it would turn onlookers to stone. In Ovid’s telling, Perseus describes Medusa’s punishment by Minerva (Athena) as just and well earned.

In most versions of the story, she was beheaded by the hero Perseus, who was sent to fetch her head by King Polydectes of Seriphus because Polydectes wanted to marry his mother. The gods were well aware of this, and Perseus received help. He received a mirrored shield from Athena, gold, winged sandals from Hermes, a sword from Hephaestus and Hades’s helm of invisibility. Since Medusa was the only one of the three Gorgons who was mortal, Perseus was able to slay her while looking at the reflection from the mirrored shield he received from Athena. During that time, Medusa was pregnant by Poseidon. When Perseus beheaded her, Pegasus, a winged horse, and Chrysaor, a giant wielding a golden sword, sprang from her body. Harrison’s translation states “the Gorgon was made out of the terror, not the terror out of the Gorgon.

A number of early classics scholars interpreted the myth of the Medusa as a quasi-historical – “based on or reconstructed from an event, custom, style, etc., in the past”, or “sublimated” memory of an actual invasion. According to Joseph Campbell:

The legend of Perseus beheading Medusa means, specifically, that “the Hellenes overran the goddess’s chief shrines” and “stripped her priestesses of their Gorgon masks”, the latter being apotropaic faces worn to frighten away the profane.

That is to say, there occurred in the early thirteenth century B.C. an actual historic rupture, a sort of sociological trauma, which has been registered in this myth, much as what Freud terms the latent content of a neurosis is registered in the manifest content of a dream: registered yet hidden, registered in the unconscious yet unknown or misconstrued by the conscious mind

In 1940, Sigmund Freud’s “Das Medusenhaupt (Medusa’s Head)” was published posthumously. In Freud’s interpretation: “To decapitate = to castrate. The terror of Medusa is thus a terror of castration that is linked to the sight of something. Numerous analyses have made us familiar with the occasion for this: it occurs when a boy, who has hitherto been unwilling to believe the threat of castration, catches sight of the female genitals, probably those of an adult, surrounded by hair, and essentially those of his mother.” In this perspective, the ‘ravishingly beautiful’ Medusa is the mother remembered in innocence; before the mythic truth of castration dawns on the subject. Classic Medusa, in contrast, is an Oedipal/libidinous symptom. Looking at forbidden mother (in her hair-covered genitals, so to speak) stiffens the subject in illicit desire and freezes him in terror of the Father’s retribution. There are no recorded instances of Medusa turning a woman to stone.

Archetypal literary criticism continues to find psychoanalysis useful. Beth Seelig analyzes Medusa’s punishment from the aspect of the crime of having been raped rather than having willingly consented in Athena’s temple as an outcome of the goddess’ unresolved conflicts with her own father, Zeus.

Why She Matters– IT’S FUCKING MEDUSA. She is arguably the most enduring figure from the entire insane rogue’s gallery that is Greek Myth. Now, this asteroid has been picked apart by literally everyone, with just about all of them coming to the same results; Medusa means rape. Now I don’t necessarily disagree with my fellow astrologers on this topic (except Ami Manning, she can die in a hole for all I care) but let’s see if we can find something they might have missed, shall we?

Right so, one theme that echoes throughout the story (and is included in her name) is that Medusa is linked to the idea of protection. She was the guardian of the sacred in her role as priestess, and Campbell’s interpretation (along with Harrison) leans heavily into that without outright saying so- but what is she protecting? Well, I think Freud was onto something (*vomits off-screen* That was harder to admit than you guys know.); It doesn’t take a genius to recognize the similarity between the female genitalia and a snake-haired monster to the untrained eye, especially the child’s mind. If we put the pieces together we get a narrative: A lost snake cult of early Greece, before the Age of Heroes, where the women ruled and the mysteries of Life were the sacred secret. There are weird stories of Athens being ruled by snakes in the earliest dark days, and Mt. Olympus itself was originally owned by a giant snake before the Titan Kronos claimed it in his wrestling match. Medusa can be seen as a conduit to this deep past, and in the chart it will represent a point that is sacred, a secret you must defend and carry through your life- a sacred duty.

The real reason I did Medusa today of all days is due to her other connotation. I posit that Medusa does not necessarily represent rape by itself. Look, we know that there is real evil in the world, and 80% of it is evil that men do, especially to women. It happens and we would be fools to deny it. Just because its ugly doesn’t mean we should shrink from its terrifying reality. Today, while Venus is in Scorpio and we are in Libra season, a brave woman is testifying before a panel of men who don’t believe her about a sexual assault of a man who she has to sit mere feet from. She is speaking up to prevent him from being put in a position to affect millions of lives and take power from even more women. She has to relive her horror under the scrutiny of an entire nation. I put forward Medusa’s other function- The protectress of those who have been raped. Medusa defends women against men and the evil that they do- Remember that the only reason Perseus could defeat her was with the help of Athena. The abused need a monster to defend them from the other, scarier monsters that haunt them- and there’s no one more up to the task than Medusa.

To find out where she shows up in your chart, go to astro.com, put in your birth details and in the extended options, at the bottom of the next page, there will be a menu of additional objects. To the right of that is a blank space where you can enter the number 149, for Medusa. Once you have it entered, generate the chart! Where does Medusa affect your life? Let us know in the comments below!

Asteroid Files: Medusa was originally published on Heretical Oracles

#149 Medusa #65489 Ceto #asteroid astrology #asteroid medusa #astrology of rape #Ceto asteroid #donald trump astrology #Kavanaugh hearing #Kavanaugh hearing 2018 #Kavanaugh hearing astrology #Medusa in Astrology #Trump 2018 #Trump astrology #astrology #tarot #fuckstrology #bruja #brujeria

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