#« ( Oluwayemisi ) » Answers. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sonderrow-moved · 5 years ago

Text

Nothing is right, and yet it feels like so.

@nvrcmplt

The first time Archer laid eyes on Oluwayemisi, he had been invited to witness some pit fighting. Those kind of barbaric scenes, despite his darker experiences, were not the CEO’s cup of tea; only because of how messy and smelly it could be. However, he was promised otherwise for this particular arena. And so he saw Oluwayemisi for the very first time. At first, just like every other fighter he had seen before, the raven was dismissive, only slightly impressed by the sheer size of the being, but apathetic towards the rest.

However, he leaned forwards same as the crowd did when he noticed. What made this beast, this man special.

Not only did he have sheer, pure strength, but not even the small and agile could outwit him. He was a warrior of experience, able to go through the wilest of mindgame, anticipating his opponent from what looked like only a glance, look at the equipement, body shape, and he knew which blow would target the knees, the eyes, the arms... And his eyes. Oh, his eyes. Unlike other fighters, amidst the bloodlust and mindless rampage, a spark. A spark of an intelligence... which stroke the raven right through. Made his eyes shine under his unmoving appearance, the patron who invited him to impress him constantly checking if he was liking the show or not, unaware of what was boiling inside.

This wasn’t just a good fighter. This was... power. Raw power. Of both mind and body. And there more he looked at him, the more the heir couldn’t take his eyes off this man. This man which every time he took a blow, it only looked like a deliberate one, to make the pain a catalyst to more victories, to make a better show without losing his entegrity.

The next fight, Archer was buying Oluwayemisi. Making him the biggest sponsor the man had. Unbeknowsnt however to the lion, he had also bought his name. Making him in name his property. The raven expected to never meet the man, only watch him in the same spot. Never to meet eyes. He could only spectate, so drawn to this pure sense of might. A might he could only dream to have, told himself countless times he had it, when in reality he knew he had no talents. Nothing. Nothing that could meet his own standards. Standards nobody else ever met, always disappointing him.

But this man... this man... their lifestyle couldn’t be more different, even being one Archer found digusted. However, the unsullied chemistry he felt obliterated any attempt to find anything but perfection in what he was seeing. Other patrons might see it as good pit fighting from barbarians, the raven was looking at champion... a King. It only made the details of his physical appearance the heir dimissed so soon phenomenal. How every inch of him was absolutely perfect in their sense. From the size of the limbs, to the thickness of the muscles... The more details he stared at, the more heat kept rising through him. Certain places he might have stared longer than others, despite not being particularly attracted to muscles. There was just... why those were affecting him. Knowing his preferences, Archer had no way of answering this. One could say it was because of arousal, but even if it was... it was so so different than the usual lust he heard about and had experienced rarely before. Something which give the same intensity, passion, even the physical reaction yet... no, it wasn’t like when he was... in bed... with Nathaniel... even if he did lust for him. This was... what was that? Even if he felt like he was getting hard he... no, there was no way he could jerk off to that. It would feel wrong... and not in the right way.

He was not prepared to meet him, yet when presented with the situation, Archer believed it was only the appropriate decorum to meet the man. Treat him with the respect he deserved and he granted to those he looked up to; talking only when necessary, silence and humbleness from his person... generosity, in material belongings.

Everything from the physique and voice to the attitude and personality creeped slowly all inside the CEO, like the mere presence of this person was taking his entire soul. Still like what his standards were, Archer only acted with the greatest affections he could muster, which was to make meetings brief. Painless. Efficient.

All the while, he found himself absolutely disgusting, as always. For liking men. For seeing one. And for mixing this one in front of him with fantasies he preferred to deny; of having his tailored suit torn apart, picked up and slammed against a locker, before being fucked on a bench, all the while the lion was still drenched in blood, messing Archer from the inside out. Have this mouth tear his flesh, mark it savagely. Yet the most unusual part was how those ideas didn’t stop here, leaving him hollow, dirty. Like even if it happened... it wouldn’t feel right. To be taken like an object. When he never cared much about that; sex was a mean to and end. So if he even entertained for a second the idea of having sex with Olu... why didn’t it feel right? What did he want more?

A way of loving nobody could read in his actions, by the lack of comparison with how he acted alongside others.

And there, Oluwayemisi never failed Archer’s anticipation. And... when he witnessed weaknesses in his character, when he found a new flaw from their repeated, occasional meetings, it only made him want to know more. He was so curious. Because nothing in this man made sense. His backstory with his adjusted way of seeing life, the scars on him and the purity of his personality. It infuriated Archer, unable to comprehend, thus forcing his character to slip out questioning dear to him; if he couldn’t understand the King, maybe he could... use an advice.

He never ever asked for advice before.

Losing his arm took his toll, and little by little Archer found out he had absolutely no support from his current lover, nor any sort of spark, fulfillment in the relationship that was even... one ten of what he felt alongside Oluwayemisi’s side, despite seeing one another a couple times a month.

When the warrior noticed of his missing arm although he never mentioned it, the way the man protectively walked alongside him, although he was never obligated to... although he was not his bodyguard... although he did everything he did...

... how couldn’t he fall in love? And now...

“I―I can’t stop―Oluwa’―I can’t stop it―s-so good..!” A deep echo resonated through the shower walls, while Archer’s upper body kept bending further down, desperately clinging onto anything against he wall for stability onto the slippery surfaces. Every time the hilt of his impromptu shower visitor’s cock hit his ass, he could feel his whole core jumping upwards through the sheer force of the thrust. Archer couldn’t speak only practically speaking. The praise and begs came out on their own, atop of how loud he constantly was even through the softest of foreplay.

“C-Call me by my name... and then call me Queen...” He always wished for it, needing to be deep into his adoration to gather the courage to ask for something so embarrassing. And when he felt his King learn forwards against his back, muttering in his low, growling tone “Archer... my Queen...” a violent shiver ran down the bat’s spine, holding onto his trembling legs while his hips kept being thrusted towards his love. The lion’s fangs sank into his shoulders, and Archer felt again something he could have never been able to picture soar through him.

What he felt was missing before from his fantasies. How, when imagining a rough fucking, something was not right. How it could turn out so bad. And there those bites made him melt. What he was missing. They were not bites out of pure violence, pure torture in the middle of selfish, one-sided sex. Those were markings of affection, with the trust of sharing both pain and pleasure, trust the other with yourself at your deepest, most intimate. This thought kept running through Archer over and over again, constantly lovestruck, smitten. That kept him moaning even as a satisfied King removed himself from him, murmuring praises, confessions of love... hazy from being the one here. The one he loved... because Oluwayemisi did what felt like the impossible. Slowly, but surely, make Archer genuinely believed his affections were met, matched, accepted. That the love was reciprocated, and support him to keep falling, for it only brought him happiness. Embarrassing, terribly vulnerable, but happiness nonetheless.

Whenever he reminisces of the time they met, the more he’s convinced he was already too deep in when their eyes met for a split second, and he felt that spark. Beyond everything else. In the most unusual of setting.

Raising from his position, the vampire turns around, throwing his arms around his lover’s neck to plant a soft, loving kiss on his lips. And another. And another. Giving a few other shivers whenever those arms, lips... all of Olu replies happily to his affection.

#. Did you know cherry taste of blood ( Olu & Archer )#nvrcmplt #. Archer's confession ( drabble )#some ive already said reiterated #some added stuff :3c

2 notes · View notes

sageglobalresponse · 2 years ago

Text

Nigerian women battling to keep traditional cloth weaving from extinction

His striking, vulnerable eyes pounced on every object in the large earthen compound where he gathered his toys. Mojeed flocked around his 25-year-old mother, Taiwo Abduljelil, while she got busy with cloth weaving. His father was also seated at the entrance of the compound where he was weaving a bundle of polychrome threads. Mojeed was born a few months after Nigeria announced its first total lockdown in March 2020 as part of measures to check the spread of the COVID-19 in the country. So, they call him “Corobaby”. A happy child, Mojeed, teetered from one end of the compound to the other as though on an undercover mission – from his mother to the father and paternal grandmother who weaned him.

Although the lockdown was not observed in Iseyin, a rustic Yoruba community in Oyo state, south-west Nigeria, where Mojeed and his parents live, the effect of the economic shutdown in Lagos, Nigeria’s commercial capital, and the nation’s capital city was felt everywhere. States locked their borders to curb the spread of the virus; there were travel restrictions and businesses began to nosedive.

For most households in Iseyin where traditional cloth weaving is the major source of livelihood, they all disembarked from the wooden loom. They had woven enough clothing materials at home, but there was no one to buy them. Hunger and frustration dealt a massive blow.

Mojeed and his mother

Taiwo and her husband, Jelil, had nowhere to go. They had no other business or means of survival and life became unbearable. Yet, they welcomed Mojeed into the world with open hands.

“It was a tough time for us. The pandemic and the restrictions came to us unexpectedly. We had to stop working and we were sleeping all day. That was when we had our third child, Mojeed. I do not pray to witness such a pandemic in my lifetime again,” Taiwo said.

“We suffered. We sold out the materials we had at home for peanuts just to feed. I took my children to my mother-in-law to take care of them. Businesses have started picking up again, but so many of us have not recovered from the shock of COVID-19.”

Before COVID-19 disrupted the traditional cloth weaving business in the community, Taiwo, who only attended a basic primary school, would wake up at 6 am, cook for the family, feed the children and step out into the compound to begin the business of the day. She used to weave two packs of materials daily. A pack, which consists of eight pieces of woven materials, is sold for N800. In other words, she used to make N1,200 daily. But the pandemic altered everything.

‘WE SURVIVED COVID BY LUCK’

It was 4 pm and the blazing sun was already lowering its gaze. Under a huge mango tree, 40-year-old Oluwayemisi Kehinde was at her best as she shuttled a small wooding boat across threads and locks them with the reed. Her feet were swift on the pedals of the ofi, which is the local name for a loom. The warp was long, about ten meters away from the ofi where she sat to knot it with the weft to form a beautiful pattern.

In Yoruba language, aso means cloth; so, aso-ofi loosely translates as the hand-woven textile from the loom. The process is hectic and takes days, from sorting the raw cotton or synthetic fibres to combing, spinning and warping — all done manually.

Oluwayemisi has been making aso-ofi for over 20 years – from 7 am to 6 pm. She only rests on Sundays. Her dexterity and energy were contagious as she answered questions smoothly without a break from weaving. She learnt the job when she dropped out of school after her primary education.

According to her, the height of the COVID-19 pandemic was the toughest period she has ever experienced over two decades of making aso-ofi. She sold out all the materials she had in store for lesser amounts. At some point, Oluwayemisi fed her six children with mangoes. Schools were shut, so they all woke every morning thinking about where the next meal would come from.

“We feed our family and also pay children’s school fees with proceeds from this business. Customers used to come to Iseyin from different parts of the country to order various designs, quality and brands of our material. Suddenly, they disappeared, and we starved,” Oluwayemisi said.

“I used to sell a pack of aso-ofi for N5,000 or 6,000 depending on the quality because I use 100 per cent cotton. I can make ten packs in three days. So, things were good for us and we were able to meet our needs. Now, the profit has thinned owing to the recent increase in the materials we use, but the demand is increasing because we make quality aso-ofi here.”

Rebeccah

Weaving is the primary employment of many women in Iseyin. As business starts picking up again, Kehinde works twice as she used to just to make life better again. But Rebeccah Ayodele says with the absence of capital, they are still finding it hard to heal.

Rebeccah, a 43-year-old mother of two, practically eats and relaxes on the loom just to make up for the time lost to the pandemic. As soon as she places her feet on the pedal at 8 am, she works till 9 pm under the cover of darkness. Sometimes, her husband puts on an electricity-generating set for illumination.

“On a pack of material, I make a profit of N500 to N1,000, although I used to make more before COVID happened. Things were so bad that feeding became a huge problem. We prayed fervently and waited endlessly for the pandemic to end,” Ayodele said.

Kudirat Azeez, a 26-year-old expectant mother, survives on a paltry N500 she makes from producing a component part of the reed. She retreated to her bedroom when the pandemic knocked.

Resuming back to work after the COVID-19 restrictions were relaxed, the women found out the cost of materials had tripled. They had no choice, So, they diversified. Instead of waiting for ceremonial seasons when the material is in high demand, they now use the fabric for bags, shoes, belts, pillows, suits, upholstery and interior decorations. The supply to Ibadan, Abeokuta, Lagos and other urban cities across the country has begun to improve.

ASO-OFI: A COMMUNITY’S LIFELINE

In Iseyin, the making of traditional fabrics is not just an art or trade, it is a religion. The ancient community is reputed as the home of aso-ofi also known as aso-oke as it reportedly began there some centuries ago. In fact, the art of traditional cloth weaving reflects in their ancestral praise.

Years back, in a typical Nigerian ceremony beaming with colours and glam, aso-ofi used to be the centre of attraction. It is the staple of special occasions like a coronation, wedding, chieftaincy, festival, naming ceremonies, burials and other important ceremonies. Some are sewn into agbada, trousers, cap; and for the women, iro and buba with a shawl. How thick and colourful the signature design of the material shows the social and economic status of the wearer.

Call it a relic of the past, it has struggled over the years to keep itself relevant in the contemporary fashion industry. While it may no longer enjoy the popularity and huge patronage of the past owing to the prevalence of imported textile materials in the market, aso-ofi has maintained its class among the royals and the rich. Most of the textiles imported into the country include brocade, ankara, damask or lace materials from China, Japan, the United States, Malaysia and India, according to the World Integrated Trade Solution (WITS).

Nigeria has a huge appetite for importation. In 2019, the Nigerian Textile Manufacturers Association (NTMA) says the country spends $4 billion importing textiles annually. The National Bureau of Statistics (NBS) trade report shows that the importation of textile and textile articles rose year-on-year by 258% in the first three months of 2021 to N171.8 billion from N48 billion in the same period of 2020.

According to Chimera Iheonu, a research analyst at Kwakol, a finance and technology firm, textile importation undermines the domestic industry and leads to job losses. Despite the ban on forex for imported finished textiles in Nigeria to protect local producers, foreign products are still making their way into the country.

WHAT DOES THE FUTURE HOLD FOR ASO-OFI?

Even at that, the women artisans, mostly uneducated, are doubling their efforts to ensure aso-ofi gains wide acceptance again. Despite the toll of the COVID-19 pandemic on small-scale businesses, they have decided to keep the craft alive and boost their family income. For them, it is beyond a livelihood. It is a communal activity that was passed from one generation to the other and must not go into extinction.

Such is the case of Raimot Lateef, an 18-year-old senior secondary school student at Islamic Girls High School, Iseyin, whose father taught weaving at a very young age. Rukayat, Ramot’s 22-year-old elder sister, is also a prodigy at the job.

Raimot is guided by her father while weaving

According to Moshood, their father, teaching her daughters how to weave fabrics is to ensure they have the skills that can fetch them money in the future and not go hungry or stranded. He said he believes female children should be empowered to fend for themselves and also contribute significantly to their families when they eventually get married.

So, as soon as Raimot comes back from school in the afternoon, she eats, freshens up and mounts the loom to weave some fabrics till late in the evening. Yet, she believes the time she spends weaving cannot stop her future ambition of becoming a doctor.

“When I am not weaving, I create time to do my assignments and read my books. I was born into traditional weaving and I have been doing it since I was six years old. I really enjoy weaving these fibres into fabrics,” Raimot told this reporter, while she was busy weaving.

“I use part of the money I make from the job to buy the things that I need. I also use it to pay my school fees and that is what I will use to purchase forms for the West African Examinations Council (WAEC) examinations next year. I hope to continue with the craft after secondary school and when I become a doctor.”

However, there is still anxiety among weavers in the community about how technology may disrupt the indigenous industry. In 2012, some weavers organised a rally in Lagos to protest the influx of China-made aso-ofi in the market. They said the machine-woven fabric with oriental blend was counterfeit.

A signpost of the proposed international tourism market at the entrance of the town

On September 27, 2016, during World Tourism Day, the Oyo state government launched the aso-ofi festival in the community with the aim of preserving the rich cultural values of the craft and also giving the fabric a global appeal. The aso-ofi international market and museum were also inaugurated.

According to Wasiu Olatunbosun, commissioner for culture and tourism, the exportation of aso-ofi textile products to various countries across the world has been in existence from time immemorial before COVID-19 disrupted the supply. He added that the export has improved the state’s internally generated revenue.

“Aso-ofi textile products are being exported to United States, United Kingdom, Brazil, Canada, Trinidad and Tobago, among others. Recently, the state facilitated a N5 million loan from the Bank of Industry (BOI) at a very low-interest rate to the weavers and also influenced the direct supply of cotton to them. This is really important as the state is currently focused on boosting its revenue base through tourism and other non-oil sectors,” the commissioner told TheCable on phone.

The government’s commitment to the development of aso-ofi means a lot to the women weavers in Iseyin. The resumption of export of the textile translates to more money to feed the family, take care of themselves and pay for children’s education.

#women #entrepreneur #Aso Ofi #sage response #london #nigeria #likesforlike #lagos #yoruba

1 note · View note

nvrcmplt · 7 months ago

Note

[ touch ] for your muse to rest their forehead against mine’s ( aizawa / olu )

Quiet and coffee, a morning slow rise and the kids well asleep still. Last night's mission was something of a crazy deal, Oluwayemisi remained indoors, protecting those that were not able to go out and fight themselves. He took the rule of a gatekeeper and wasn't one to think twice about knocking out the teen-hero's if they thought themselves better than the orders given.

Now though, the days after the wounded have been sent to their rooms after healing with Recovery Girl - bed bound with aches and full stomachs of good food. Aizawa though, was up and out as usual. Oluwayemisi wasn't all that shocked, this man didn't know how to relax when the kids were out - watching him from the sidelines made sense. A worrying mother hen, a man simply trying to feel less guilt for the kids having done their job role so young.

So, he could only do what he could for him. Reaching out in the early hours and silencing the sleep-deprived insomniac greeting with a firm kiss. To take his coffee-taste and feel those shoulders relax in his presence as larger hands stroke down the feline-esque like man's sides to his lower back. Warm and firm, providing support no matter what the other did and when their lips part. The larger of two rumbles a growl as his scarification brow presses to Aizawa's. "Relax. You're not going to be of use if you're as tight as a wire, Aizawa. They are resting, they are safe… now rest."

#intcritus #« ( Oluwayemisi ) » Answers.#» | × | Oluwayemisi&Aizawa || I Keep A Close Watch On This Heart Of Mine. ||

2 notes · View notes

nvrcmplt · 7 months ago

Note

[ nap ] for your muse to fall asleep against mine ( somi / olu )

Once you've witnessed your interest power lifting boars from the forest to gut, skin and butcher, Oluwayemisi starts to deny himself that he'd harm her by being all in her space with his bulk. So, when they settle together to stare upon the world she showed him with everything in her heart in the open - it was without a doubt he'd come to love it. Resting in the silence, the sun warm, the smell of freshly washed hair and skin dewy from ointments under his nose. He was a very content feline - sharing his downtime with her in his lap. Allowing him to embrace her with all his limbs, to nuzzle and scent himself with her smell and his to hers in return.

Though - a little too long in the sun it seemed as he slowed his actions of rubbing his face into her nape and hair to instead still. Inhaling deep in the gap between them, and nudging his forehead upon her shoulder - he rumbled a noise akin to a purr, but it wouldn't stick. Not as he dozed off in the peace between them and around them. Her strength easily able to hold him up if she desired. Though, his arms did tighten about her if she made a move to move in any form.

He's healed a lot since his arrived here, that's something he's noticed from the get-go. A lot of physical aches from the city life and stress of the mind, oozed from him. His mind all the same too - rebuilding from the trauma and tragedies he dreams of most nights now he can process things a little clearer, but for him to be here like this. Limp and at peace in her presence, it meant more than most would ever know.

#intcritus #« ( Oluwayemisi ) » Answers.#» | × | Oluwayemisi&Somi || I Am Home When I Am With You. ||

2 notes · View notes

intcritus · 8 months ago

Note

62: “ I want to protect you. ” // Olu @ Somi

i don't need protecting. its the immediate thought that burns the tip of her tongue, dotted brows furrowing. staring down at the dead boar, some part of the deity doesn't understand his need to protect her. he wants to do this, and yet somi finds herself confused. ❝ ━ why ? ❞ she asks the question, earnestly, lids sliding open to stare up at him imploringly, wanting to understand.

❝ ━ who protects you if you're worried about me ? ❞ it is her nature, to give and give, to ensure someone else's elation, to make them comfortable, to make them smile. it's all she's ever known. even her son didn't protect her ( he did, fiercely, viciously but she doesn't see it as protecting ). crouching down, she hefts up their dinner before humming contemplatively, ❝ ━ we can talk about this more over dinner, i'm not sure i need to be protect, olu, but....i thank you for wanting to keep me safe.❞

#🐾. ◦ ✧ ✩ ( generous & benevolent nekomata ic. )ˑ #nvrcmplt #🐾 oluwayemisi. ╱ » between stardust & soft epilogues if i knew that i could reach you i would go.#👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ

2 notes · View notes

intcritus · 9 months ago

Note

[ stolen ] a quick, stealthy, and impromptu kiss snatched in secret[ bite ] a playful kiss that involves some light biting //Olu @ Zawa

middle of the day, just before the weekend, meant shōta tended to be busy. now that he wasn't actively on patrol, he spent more time drafting up special lesson plans for kaminari, seo and ashido. it meant they would excel more with both yaomomo and midoriya as their respective tutors. the halls weren't exactly quiet but they were still, with the students in their study period. dragging a hand over his face and through his hair, shōta finds himself ducking into the teacher's lounge, releasing a sigh of relief at how empty it was. ambling into the empty office, he stops when notices olu's presence, those golden eyes blinking at him and the hero chuckles quietly before moving to him, quietly nuzzling into him, mouth pressing to jaw in greeting.

❝ ━ see you found one of my napping spots, ❞ he murmurs softly, hands settling against the feline's hips. with him not patrolling as much, the hero realizes he has more time to live a little, to give more of his attention to his hellions and this wonderful man against him. the warmth he exudes sinks into shōta's bones. tipping olu's face down, the erasure hero kisses him, lashes fluttering shut as he leans into the lion, as hand cups the nape of his neck, free arm sliding around his waist to keep him close.

it wreaks havoc on his heart, the way olu kisses him. but even more so when he can hear noise start to fill the lounge but when he goes to pull away, olu is pulling him back in, teeth nipping at his lips, tongue sliding into his mouth, a low groan vibrating in his chest that he can't bother to keep quiet. teeth capture his bottom lip, nipping and tugging -- his heart pounding behind it's ivory cage and he hears the call of his name, footsteps coming closer. finally they part, lips damp, eye glazed over and he's resting his forehead against shoulder as he panted.

❝ ━ fuck. if you kiss me like that, you'll never get rid of me, ❞ he grumbles against shoulder, nuzzling in and inhaling scent. his chest swells with laughter but his brain hardly comprehends how such a short kiss could render him without thought. nemuri's coos and the deep rumble against his cheek let him know that his friend probably thinks he fell asleep against the lion, but shōta doesn't care. he's currently floating and if sleep claims him, well, he'll worry about things later. / @nvrcmplt

#look who woke up and wanted olu uwu #( erasure ic. )#nvrcmplt #oluwayemisi. ╱ » quiet nights with a kaleidoscope of affection and a stumbling heart.#👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ

2 notes · View notes

nvrcmplt · 1 year ago

Note

if i go down , i want you to get him outta here. ( zawa to olu about shoto u wu)

How easy it was to make his lips slide over fanged jowls, the idea that Aizawa was so ready to throw himself into harms way for the kids was little beyond his own thoughts. He understood the drive… but that didn't mean he had to like it. His chest rumbled heavily - hands clenched over stone wall and crushing it as his bestial side answered his call. Fur sprouted with ease, bones rearranged, and his clothing tore due to the muscle mass difference. Tall and towering, did the beastman step before Aizawa with a heavy exhale, hunching with power but holding steady as he was a King.

"Go first, you know this city better than I." Where was he going to run? He didn't know this landscape, it wasn't his territory, but that was one thing he was good at. Fighting… So he didn't even spare the man a glance before using his tail to heavily push the man back into Shoto's frame and stepped forwards himself. "I'll hold them off." Rumbled through wet gums and before Aizawa could stop him, the lion pushed forward with cracked pavement in his wake. Long arms reached for the floor, pushing himself even faster with his natural way of running, launching himself at the nearest villain to latch onto his face to twist, roll and launch them into several others.

A healthy distraction, as he bellowed a call deep from his gut, lashing out with claws and jumping into the fray to protect the path taken by his family.

#intcritus #» | × | Oluwayemisi&Aizawa || I Keep A Close Watch On This Heart Of Mine. ||#« ( Oluwayemisi ) » Answers.#olu said no

2 notes · View notes

intcritus · 1 year ago

Note

[ BARE ]: as they get undressed, the sender gently places a soft, tender kiss against the receiver’s bare shoulder.

[ SCAR ]: noticing a scar on the receiver’s skin, the sender tentatively stops them from covering it up, and rests a gentle, soft kiss over it. //Olu @ Somi

fabric slides off her shoulders and down her arms as she readies for a bath, more than ready to soak for bit from the day's labor before winter decides to come early. she's aware of olu, he's alwaysnearby, a warm presence that makes her want to purr. he's nearer now, his hair brushing over her before his head dips, mouth pressing to her shoulder. a fluttering sensation assaults her stomach and she lets her head fall forward, reveling quietly in the affection.

letting the yukata drop further, beckoning for more of those tender kisses. it's then she remembers that her body is a canvas of scars, some slight and silvery and others are jagged from the rust of a bloodied blade and cruel intentions and the big lion doesn't allow for her to hide.

as he kneels behind her, lips tracing the length of the said scar that had threatened to bisect her spine. it's white with age, but a stark reminder of the violence aginst her on that day. but it doesn't burn when olu's mouth is there, no, it throbs and tingles with the tenderness he presents her. fingers clench in the sleeves of her yukata, head bowed as her entirety trembles, tails curl around his forearm. why does he continue to invoke such emotion ? was she so unused to such things ? ❝ ━....it doesn't hurt anymore. none of them do.❞ her voice is hoarse, and somi clears her throat, leaning back against him, nuzzling into him with a faint rumble in her throat. she'll be okay, just give her a minute.

#🐾 oluwayemisi. ╱ » between stardust & soft epilogues if i knew that i could reach you i would go.#🐾. ◦ ✧ ✩ ( generous & benevolent nekomata ic. )ˑ #nvrcmplt #why do these make me so emotional jfc #👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ

2 notes · View notes

intcritus · 1 year ago

Note

The muffled silence of the halls was an indication of the beast passing through the dormitory. With round ears twitching only slight through the blackened mane of his frame, did the returning King pass through corridors of excited proheros. His paws moved with slow ease, a bulk that swayed with tail end just a tough off the floor. A gait lazy, but everyone could see the muscle in its sandy pelt as he trod through the layout to find that room which smelt the best.

Nostrils flared only slight before his large frame turned to where he needed to be... When he stares down upon the yellow caterpillar of a man - the Lion could only rumble in pleased tones. Pushing his giant size deeper inside the room to close the door with a well aimed back paw. Free now to step over the slumbering man and block the window's sun just right before settling down and curling himself close to Aizawa.

His eyes large and amber, narrowed with the opening of his maw, stretching out all jowls and tongue before resting himself in for a deep sleep too. Squinting in the sunlight that felt delightful - his mind wandered little else besides this room now. Knowing that in the minutes of their sleep, Aizawa would rest like he's never had before as usual.

Aizawa could definitely sleep in bed, and had plenty a time but his sleeping bag allowed for easier exit and a clearer path to his kids should they need him. It also means he doesn't really rest fitfully because of everything that had been going on this years. Regardless, he snuggles deeper into his sleeping bag, letting the weighted coolness lull him into a light doze. And as the hour went on and there were no incidents, that light doze became something deeper though hypervigilance made sure he was still aware.

Some time passes, his phone stays silent and he's somehwat aware of the door to his room opening. Aware of the silent and deadly presence that brings him comfort. So he merely relaxes completely, letting Olu's warmth and presence lull him deeper into slumber. And it's a deep sleep, ones he usually avoids for personal reasons but it's dreamless, quiet….at first. But, of course it doesn't stay that way. Time isn't relative in a dream, it could have been hours but all he sees is darkness then colors begin to edge then flourish across a familiar landscape.

A hand reaching for Asui's face and he's too late and the disintigrating flesh blows with the wind and a low, pained sound escapes him. He's too late, his vision is shot and he's in pain. His elbow throbs with pain, it's like the first time it occur -- agonizing and he hates to grit his teeth so he doesn't cry out. The scene flashes then ends, and he's in the hospital. Brows furrow, a horrible teeth grinding sound and Aizawa doesn't really know what this scene in. Fingers twitch, entangling in the fabric of the sleeping bag, trying and failing to wake himself. Heart races, thudding painfully in his chest, breath heavy and shallow.

' You're so cool eraserhead.'

Bandaged gaze snaps to that familiar voice, and he realizes he's vulnerable like this. Fear cascades down his spine and he can feel the heat of that hand near his face, feel the way it darkens his proverbial doorstep before he's facing terror like he's never know. Because Shigaraki's hand is at his throat, both hands drawing upward toward his face before all ten fingers touch him. There's no sound, just the gentle, but labored breathing of the younger male and the gentle swoosh of Kurogiri's portal as it stays open. He isn't sure what finally startles him awake but he jerks awake with a silent gasp, sweat covering his features and quickly, jerkily unzipping it and gasping as he crawled away, on his hands and knees, blood from his palms smearing across the floor.

He can't fucking breathe. Logically, he knows that he can. He just needs to calm down but Aizawa also knows the beginning of this panic attack has him in it's throes. The smear of blood on the floor draws his attention and the sting of the cuts on his palm don't ground him but make even more sense to his terror-addled brain. His heart jumps in his chest, red gaze snapping to the lion who'd been curled around him, meeting amber gaze. There's safety in that gaze, some small, rational part of his brain is telling the teacher but he can't--- there's no rationality in his fear.

Like a feral cat with a sore paw, he moves to the other side of the room, keeping an eye on the lion, wanting to come closer and yet needing the space. He presses his back to the small couch, fingers spearing into his hair, shuddering breaths escaping him. More than twenty minutes have gone by and every sense is dialed to a ten still. ❝ ━…I,❞ Aizawa swallows thickly, hands tugging at the strands at the roots. ❝ ━ Come….please. I can't tell what's real. ❞ He's never been one to be this vulnerable but he needs it, terribly before he falls apart. ❝ ━ I'd come to you, but I don't think I can move without my legs buckling beneath me. ❞

@nvrcmplt

#nvrcmplt #( erasure ic. )#olu tag.#:)))))))#👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ #oluwayemisi. ╱ » quiet nights with a kaleidoscope of affection and a stumbling heart.

2 notes · View notes

intcritus · 1 year ago

Note

Olu's now going to bury his nose in Aizawa's hair and neck, inhaling that peppery scent with a need for it in his lungs. Kind of like a catnip, one that made his tongue stretch out to lap up the other's skin for a much more personal smelltaste. A huff of delight as his chest rumbled with a bestial rumble of a growl of pleasure as he continued to inhale away with adoration and a growing addiction.

a huff of amusement leaves the teacher as olu basically nuzzles him to death, inhaling his scent where he can and if aizawa twitches at the scrape of that tongue on his neck, no he didn't. but he also doesn't bother doing anything but tilting his head so the lion can inhale his scent to his heart's content. if that means aizawa can simply close his eyes and enjoy the closeness and forget about some of the homework waiting to be graded, well that's his business. ❝ ━ if you keep this up, you'll end up smelling like me...❞ he murmurs tiredly, wrapping his arms around olu's shoulders and nuzzling into his hair.

#( erasure ic. )#fun fact: zawa likes this very much. but don't bite his neck. he's liable to bite back uwu #nvrcmplt #👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ #oluwayemisi. ╱ » quiet nights with a kaleidoscope of affection and a stumbling heart.

3 notes · View notes

intcritus · 1 year ago

Note

Olu watches Aizawa, not really understanding how he does the things he does with that look of his but it works well. Even now when they were on errands together, he was a well known face to those that needed to know it and seemingly it was a lot more than Olu' thought. Still, attention was once more theirs and theirs alone - to which the larger of the two spoke up with some curiosity. "Is your work ever done?" He questioned with wonder, since being a Hero must be a tasking thing to aim for - now he kind of understands Shoto's need to get out of it, to hide in arms of those that want to hold him from the horrors of the world.

"Is it so normal here for children to be thrown into the frontlines because of their ... 'quirks'?" Olu wasn't a fan of it, to think in this country - Osakwe could have been tossed into a school like this with expectations to fight. "Do you ever have time to rest or will you be a 'hero' until you die here?"

❝ ━ when they graduate, i'm going to retire. i'll always be their teacher, but i'm tired. ❞ aizawa was honest with himself, being a hero was what he had wanted to be. it's something he went into headfirst knowing what the outcome could be at any time of day. but it's also the reason why he so harshly dissuades certain students from pursuing heroics at all. not every kid wanted to be a hero on the frontlines. no kid expected to be in the middle of a war, no parent wanted to see their young child's multilated body on a stretcher and the erasure hero knew first hand what it was like to lose someone precious to him. he'd lost oboro and now midnight and there's no telling what else that he will lose. ❝ ━ i didn't have to be a hero, i could've done anything but i wanted to be worth something, ❞ he admits gruffly, lids sliding close as his heart stutters at his own admission. he remembers just how hard he worked, how he really had no one in his corner.

yes, he had his friends but they didn't really understand what it was like to grow up with no one on his side. with his quirk, he could stop the villains he always saw on t.v., he could be of help. and everyone had been raving about ua, allmights alma mater, and he found himself wanting to be a part of that, just a little.

❝ ━ even some of the best quirks i've seen aren't on the frontlines, they're hidden away, helping where they can. in a society like this where quirks are seen as a miracle, something special, and sometimes not special at all, it can be a huge pressure. i would never willingly put my kids on the frontline, it was a ridiculous choice made by those above me. all of them had already been too much and i expected everyone of them to want different for themselves. ❞ he wanted them to be kids, to deal with teenage angst, not villains who targeted them because of allmight's legacy, of the legacy of what it was to be a hero.

tilting his head up, shoulders drop, a subtle pout to his lips as brows furrowed, ❝ ━ i try to rest when i can. ever since i was young, ive never really stopped. one of my...um, i hold a lot of guilt, asking myself if i was stronger, if i was faster, i could prevent things and in that mindset, there's never any chance for a proper rest. what if i'm resting and one of them needs me ? what if i'm resting and something goes to shit ? ❞ painful thoughts that keep his hypervigilance alive and his entirety suffers terribly because of it. ❝ ━ i'll die protecting them, protecting those i care about, but truthfully, i don't want to die being a hero. maybe of old age ? owning a cat cafe, maybe. i do want a life outside of this, but i've never given myself that chance because of well...my own career choice.❞

#( erasure ic. )#nvrcmplt #me in shock because zawa never talks this much #and he's revealed a lot and im hurting #👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ #olu tag pending.#oluwayemisi. ╱ » quiet nights with a kaleidoscope of affection and a stumbling heart.

2 notes · View notes

nvrcmplt · 1 year ago

Note

❛❛ That shirt look good on you ⸻⸻ as a matter of fact , so would I. ❜❜

Oluwayemisi's laugh was deep, from his gut as he turned to face the figure in the room for two - away from heavy music and sweaty bodies of others that mingled in the club. The privacy rooms here meant usually one of three things, drugs, sex or dealings with stupid amounts of money. The current use for this room however, was the second. They had been making eyes together for the last fifteen minutes. Olu' being a bouncer here meant he had a professionalism to him but when his break was uttered into Saint's ear on passing to his next station on the floor's stretch. It wasn't long until this place was opened for them with a key card of their own.

It wasn't frowned upon, if anything, all the more encouraged, because who wouldn't want the strong and powerful to have a load removed from tense shoulders and be worshipped more with 1st class service. Drinks, drunks, sex and money. Classic goods, really - but those did little to flatter Oluwaye. No, he needed little materialistic things nor a man of drug use unless it was pure herbal in his own garden. No, instead it was the scent of this fiend. He smelt ripe, eager, wanting… and that was damning to his short fuse.

He hadn't gotten much action in a long time, not for trying mostly but when this is offered like so? Who was he to refuse. Specially a male that was somewhat taller than the average human that thirsted over him. The lion man could only rumble in his chest in delight - as he tossed aside his tie and instead, shrugged his shirt off to place onto the bed. Rolling shoulders and easing muscles from the stiff cloth, he moved to crowd the other being into the wall. Holding him still as arms cage them just right. Not so much neck ache this time, but it wasn't enough - his fanged maw parted with ease to reply soon enough.

"You can wear it on your way home with my cum stuffed deep." Hands dropped from the wall to instead grip wide pits and clawed digits around that thinner waist, tight - solid with muscle like his own, but just the right size for the lion to shiver in desire. Lowering his lips to nip upon Saint's bottom tier before licking into their mouth with a demand of more. The kiss wasn't to be soft or gentle, to be honest, it was rough. Fangs snag at lip, tearing skin if dry enough but with the amount of tongue these two were toying with it wasn't long until the other's lips were pink, wet and slick. Nipped to hell and back as Oluwayemisi's jaw worked with his tongue to massage Saint's own.

Hands settle into place, lower back and hip - pressing his chest to their own and pelvis just above theirs. Didn't matter, it wasn't the lack of erection that stopped Oluwayemisi from getting pleasure from grinding into place. Tugging Saint's frame closer, tighter, almost to the point of squashing him - the Lion growled upon his tongue. Sucking the muscle with their breath, inhaling the lust shared between them with ease. After all - having someone here after so long was something thrilling to the Predator.

Thus, the wall situation wasn't enough now, no - knowing that Saint was just as eager as himself, Oluwayemisi's lips part with a feral lick to his own. Hands slipping from behind to instead grip the six ft six man by his hips and raise him from his feet. Guiding those thighs around his own as he buries his lips into Saint's throat to lick over the sweat as he carried him towards the bed. A knee for balance upon the mattress and then lowering them both with a hand for more stability. Once Saint's back met the duvet, Oluwayemisi didn't sigh from running his hands down their front, tugging aside clothing stuck from his earlier impatience to just kiss this man stupid.

Now, able to strip his partner for the night with swift claws, one of two buttons sacrificed to the sharpness of each digit. He moved with ease to lean back over them. Running his rough tongue up his sternum, pinning biceps within palms and dragging his fangs over pectorals and nipples. Not quiet biting, but not quite not. Scratching a feverish itch before his lips closed around a thick bud, growling in pleasure as he sucked it raw, biting the areola and moving to lick away more sweat as his pelvis pressed hard to their rear. Heat was growing, hotter and hotter - and without shame as the Lion moved to bite larger mouthfuls of flesh on offer to him.

Ribs, then stomach, pectoral again, until his teeth just about pierced skin as he wasn't stopped, and the blood lapped away only made the beastman groan deeper. Releasing biceps, to allow himself to lower his mouth down abs, fangs at work scrapping over muscle and beneath navel, to nip before sucking down a large hickie with his teeth imprinting the edges. In the meantime, his hands aided in yanking Saint's pants and underwear free, tossing it off a leg to fully give the man the freedom of movement - but it was a false pretence again. Oluwayemisi's mitt had already caught the back of the right knee, tugging it up and out the way over his shoulder even as his mouth snags a mouthful of inner thigh. Brutally too. With intense need to taste more, as his hand cupped their erection, pushing it up towards their stomach and pinching index and middle digits around the girth in a solid stroke. Thumb pressed beneath balls, squeezing the one caught between thumb and palm.

It was a delicious sight, the man was covered in his marks and as hard as himself. Throbbing with need in his palm and just a lustful demon all the same. The noises alone could bag them a few thousand if this was recorded but thankfully it was just for Oluwayemisi's ears. A pleasure he wasn't so sure on once before but now, yeah - he liked this noise. The way the man didn't shy from his pleasure, cursed and choked on his inhales whenever Olu's tongue did something different. "You weren't lying about not feeling pain." Though it was something he gave sympathy for, he understood it in a sense of things. Shame thought - but luckily the other could feel the pleasure he was giving. It'd be pretty shit for a hot man to be a dead fish in the bedroom due to his nervous system being shot.

Oluwayemisi did slow his ministrations down enough to watch Saint's cock head weep, but stopped all the same as he reached for the drawer. Tugging it upon with a claw and taking the lube bottle free to thumb the cap open, he shamelessly poured it from above to cover Saint's dick in the cold slick, letting it drip down his shaft and balls to drip onto the covers below. Just enough to help - as Olu' tossed it next to the other's head. "Finger fuck yourself open, my claws will tear you apart from the inside." He warned, not really wanting to fuck a bloody mess for fun tonight and instead - allowed Saint's leg to be removed from his grasp. Stepping back to give them room and space - to catch his own breath also. Only to be stopped with a wicked shine in those eyes. Oluwaye' didn't need to told twice as Saint moved to rest himself on his back - but his head hanging off the edge this time…

"Slut." Oluwayemisi didn't shy away from lowering his slacks and his weighted cock slipped from his undergarments. Too large to stand, too heavy to not make a smack upon his thigh but the veins that stretched over the black flesh was little to no sign of his arousal here. Moving close enough for Saint to gather what he wanted and when his head was attacked with a hot tongue and lips eager for more. He groaned with a long inhale. Thickening his growl of approval as he allows his pants to drop to his knees and Saint's aid to push them down to his ankles at his angle. When he was free of his clothing prison, he watched the man do his own task of stretching himself open. However, Olu's attention was short-lived as he felt his cock press deeper, forced by the needy American-Korean. "You seem starved…" His smirk was ignited with more lust, stepping forward to press his cock into the lenient mouth with a widening of eyes as how easy they took him in. Though his throat bulged at the thickness of his own gentiles.

"Oh, now I see why this position is a favourite… " Olu's hand lowered to Saint's crown, thumb away sweat from their brow and snagging a handful of hair with a lick of his upper lip. His hips moved in slowness, no longer just reactive jerks from the pleasure gained but now it was his control. After all, Saint seemed to notice the change again with his mouth fully stuffed, Olu' withdraw to make his throat lower from its prior state. Oh, it was hot. Stupidly sexy. So, he moved with ease knowing that this being was able to handle it - and so, his hips pressed his cock deeper. The sound of their slick fingers making work between their own legs, and the clap of his balls upon their face was enough to make the Lion shudder head to toes. Faster and short thrusts followed soon enough - his hand gripping tighter, to help in protecting their neck but also to keep himself grounded from the bliss taking over his mind.

Olu's fangs itched, wanting to bite at his throat, the sight of it raising and trembling, falling with heavy swallowing bobs of the Adams apple. Fuck - his predator drive was at its peak and he didn't shy away from grounding himself to the depths Saint could handle. Growling through his teeth as he reached out with his free hand to grasp upon pectoral and squeeze. The sound of gagging, the sharp inhales, the flow of the others pleasure making the room stink of lust… "F-uck, Swallow it, slut." Shamelessly, did the Lion let that tongue and throat work out his first load for the evening. A thick swelling from his twitching balls and the flow of semen continued its way through the others' throat. Shuddering with muscles tensing with each thick rope coating the fleshy walls. Long ones, as it's been ages since Olu's even masturbated by himself.

He didn't know his balls held so much back until now, but it was worth it, as he felt the others hands at his thighs gripping behind them. Making his stay deep in their throat - even if they were turning red from the strain and flow of blood. It was sexy --- the desperate drinking of his cocks flood. Though - Olu' did indulge for a moment before withdrawing against Saint's wishes. His palm was quick to grip the weights' girth soon enough and using Saint's saliva and the thin coating of his own semen on the skin to stroke out three more ropes of white, he didn't warn the other about them being splattered over their collar bone, throat and face… "Ha... Tighter than any whore I've had…" Olu' panted from the heavy release. Like a liquid drug that made his thighs shake, and his head hang backwards, chin stretched high to ride out those shivers as his palm languidly continued to stroke his length root to tip.

He was tired, but in a tensionless way... Ah, he didn't want the other to think he was tapping out after that though. "Don't worry, I'm not finished yet… " He wasn't going to let one brilliant blowjob ruin the drive he had to breed this man on the mattress before him. After all, Saint went to all that hard work of working himself open, ripe and ready for Olu's dick.

The Lion smirked all the more, as he stepped back to let Saint have his breathing space. Kicking off his pants and shoes at the same time to finally be free of all garments of the western world to stare upon his prey. "Shall we continue?"

#villain-he #» ɴsғᴡ #» ʟᴇᴍᴏɴ #« ( Oluwayemisi ) » Answers.

3 notes · View notes