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stvnmvrsh · 11 months

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sacrifice (eat me up) - enhypen

Colona was even more beautiful at night than in the day Stan thought. The hot sun faded, the busy crowd thinned, and the loud voices of people silenced. All was still in the night, except for Stan, who had just run out of his family's two-story Tudor house. He had just gotten into another fistfight with his sister, Shelly.

Ignoring his mother's piercing shrieks for him to come back, Stan picked up his pace. He ran as fast as his little ten-year-old legs carried him. Not daring to look back, he let his feet slap the ground and push him out of the town gates, over the train tracks, and deep into the pastures. His lungs were on fire. Chest heaving, he wondered if he could stay at Kenny's little cottage, but decided against it as he didn't want Mr. and Mrs. McCormick to telephone his mother and father. Plus, he didn't want to disturb him or his siblings.

He passed up Kenny's house and trudged into the woods. He wasn't afraid to enter the eerie grounds, he's hunted with his uncle plenty. As his boots crunched the unpaved floor, he watched as the fireflies' danced around aimlessly. Soft, yellow, and full of life. Pushing past the trees, he traced their thick trunks. After he felt like his legs could fall off, he sat on a flat boulder. He paid no mind to the cold rock underneath his bottom. He closed his eyes and listened to the chirping of crickets, breathing in the wood's distinctive scent. Stan's face drew into a content smile, happy to find a place he could finally relax.

His smile fizzled out when he remembered he had to go home eventually. He looked back towards the city and remembered his sister's cruel fist. He tugged his collar out to peer into his shirt, already seeing the familiar mottled red color forming on his stomach. He didn't want to face his family quite yet. He concluded if he was going to get scolded, he might as well stay out the whole night. Decision made, he weaved his way into the depths of the evergreens.

He took his time, listening to the sounds of insects flitting around. Just as he's about to turn around, his eyes zero in on a small clearing in the middle of thick foliage. It was easy to miss if you weren't looking for it, just big enough for a person to slip into.

He heard his uncle Jimbo's voice in his head; "Best not to venture o'er there, Stanley. I've heard bad rumors. Not worth your own life, so I never bothered."

But Stan was curious then, just as he is now. He straightened the navy blue newsboy hat atop his head and walked straight through. Puzzled but cautious, he keeps his footsteps as light as he can. As he progressed, his surroundings slowly evolved. Inhaling deeply, the musky smell of leaves withered away and was replaced by a rich pine aroma. The earthen turf turned into fine Indian ricegrass. What once was barren was colorful and flowery shrubbery, their perfume potent and sweet. Large boulders and rocks are now stone statues, tall as pillars. Delicate and airy bluebells, columbine, and arrowleaf littering the area are a welcome sight. What could be so dangerous here?

Around three miles in, that's when Stan sees it. He follows a stepstone path of Venitian grey sandstone to a dip in the valley. An impressive deep royal blue Victorian Eastlake estate stood compellingly. Thick pine trees, a large, calm lake, and neatly trimmed hedges surrounded the area. A small greenhouse to the far left housed various herbs and flowers, so plentiful and lush. There was a quaint, yet enviable vegetable garden. Stan was beyond belief. He'd never seen anything more marvelous in his life. Everything was so breathtaking, it didn't make sense to have it all hidden away.

"What are you doing here?"

Stan just about pissed his trousers. The stranger's eyes were as startling as his entrance. Beguiling poison apple green eyes asses him with interest.

"I was just walking around and I stumbled onto this place. I didn't know this was private property, I'll take my leave now!" Stan blurted out hurriedly, not wanting to cause another problem. Ready to back away, he was stopped by a firm grasp on his forearm. This stranger was ice cold. He was released as quickly as he was caught, as if the stranger realized how offputting the action was.

"A little rude to be upon a stranger's house and not introduce yourself, don't you think? What's your name?" the boy asked with his head cocked to the side, indifferent to Stan's fear.

Unsuredly, he humored him. "Name's Stanley Marsh, but you can call me Stan."

"Hello, Stan. My name is Kyle." He extended a hand out, his milky skin almost looked like it was glittering in the moon's light. He smiled secretively like he knew something Stan didn't. He took his own sweaty palm and shook his frigid hand in greeting.

"Do you know how to play chess, Stan?"

He was still wary, but time and time again, his curiosity peaked. He just knew Kyle would be delighted to entertain him.

"A little."

"Come. Play with me." He waved his hand over to a stone picnic table nearby, a chessboard atop it.

While making their way to the table, Stan used the opportunity to study Kyle. His hair was shiny, his curly blood-orange hair peeking out of a rabbit fur ushanka. His nose was strong, like an eagle's. A juniper-colored suit jacket atop a starched white button-up was paired with short trousers. Stan grew shy as he saw Kyle's head turn back towards him. He looked really pretty.

After they were seated, Kyle let him pick between the black and white pieces. Stan flipped the board so that the white pieces were facing him.

"Care to wager? Whoever wins this game gets to ask all the questions they would like. Are you in?" Kyle grins at his queen in between his thumb and pointer, admiring the piece.

"And how do I know you won't lie to me?" Stan asks, pulling his woolen jacket across himself tighter as the breeze picked up slightly.

"Trust me." Stan waited for any malicious intentions to make themselves known, but he sensed nothing. Still, he felt like Kyle was trying to convey another message.

"You're on."

White knight moves to f3, attacking the black pawn on e5.

Kyle smirks and moves his pawn to d6 and captures Stan's knight. Stan allows his poker face to remain as he threatens Kyle's king on g8 by moving his queen to h5.

Stan sneaks a glance across the table.

There!

Stan sees his opening as Kyle is flustered, and escapes check by moving his king to g6. Stan finishes the game, checking the king with his queen to g6.

"Checkmate!" Stan exclaimed, victorious.

Kyle was only momentarily stunned, recovering quickly from his defeat as he smiled toothily at Stan.

Huh?

"Hey, Kyle?"

"Yes?"

"Your teeth are-" Stan didn't bother to finish his sentence. He couldn't stop his blood from pumping erratically at the sight of Kyle's fluorescent stare. Feeling like the very prey he hunted with his uncle, his hands were pressed against the cement bench, ready to jump up and run. This time, away from him.

"Don't tell me someone as clever as you do not know."

Kyle parted his mouth further, and there was no denying it. Seemingly out of nowhere, his short canines elongated past his plush bottom lip. Bone-colored, they looked to be needle-sharp and nearly fragile. Stan was almost scared they were going to puncture straight through Kyle's flawless skin.

Stan groaned internally. Of course, he would be worried about the supposed monster and not his own well-being!

"Are you going to kill me now?" Stan hated that his voice sounded so pathetic.

"No."

Stan clenched his jaw, growing irritated. "What are you playing at?"

"I thought we were friends." Kyle tilted his head, honestly perplexed.

"Like hell! We can't be friends! You're a-"

"Vampire?" His fingers drummed the table, but his gaze never left Stan.

"Yes! Exactly, you said it yourself."

"And why not? I sensed you ever since your feet hit the ground in this domain. I could have killed you without you even knowing. You could have easily run away by now. Yet you're still here, having a civilized conversation with a monster like me. We played chess together. You trusted me. I think that's plenty enough reason to be friends." Kyle fired back.

"Why do you want this so bad?" The question left Stan's mouth before he could stuff it back inside.

There was a tense silence like Kyle was afraid of his question.

"You found me. My father says that those who are worthy can find us. I thought we could be friends."

Kyle, who was self-assured and full of confidence, now couldn't even look at him. He was now focused on the tranquil lake, seemingly miles away. Stan knew it was over for him the minute he felt his guard falter.

"I won."

Kyle's head snapped towards Stan, but he didn't flinch.

"I won, so I get to ask you all the questions I want, remember?" His sapphire orbs took in Kyle's weighty expression.

"You're not leaving?"

"I've decided I want to stay here with my friend." He knew what it was like to be lonely and not have anyone. To be surrounded by people you're supposed to rely on but are unable to. If he could help it, Stan wanted to be there for him.

Stan didn't know if he'd made the right decision, but Kyle laughed. It sounded like Stan was in church with his family, the choir members singing. Kyle's laugh sounded like his favorite song; he never wanted to stop listening. He never knew a vampire could be so angelic.

Stan continued to bombard him with question upon question, Kyle was nearly taken aback by the sheer inquisitiveness he possessed.

"My parents are Gerald and Shiela Broflovski. My adoptive brother's name is Issac, but we just call him Ike. My parents immigrated from Polska to New Netherlands, but my mother wanted to move, thus our living here. My father used ancient magic to make the entrance visible to any living being that had no wish to kill us, people who were worthy of befriending. Before you ask, even though we are who we are, we only consume animal blood."

In the shade of the moon, with the lulling whispers of the cool wind, they revealed their lives on the table. Stan could not comprehend why, but he felt compelled to tell Kyle everything. Never before feeling so seen, he couldn't shut up. His family, his hardships, his pain. Oddly, Kyle reciprocated. He learned about his overbearing mother, his father's high expectations, and the discord between him and his brother.

Kyle's ears twitched, lips pursing. "My mother is calling for me."

Stan followed the direction of his movement, looking towards the house. He could have sworn he saw a woman passing by one of the various elaborate stained glass windows.

"The light will fall upon us soon, you should return home." Kyle held Stan's hand like it was a butterfly on his finger.

"Lest you want to be in deeper trouble." Right. He completely forgot about his dilemma. Scurrying to leave, once again he was stopped.

"I will be here." When he spun around, Kyle was already looking at him, smiling mirthfully.

He's a darling.

Stan didn't know if it was because he was naturally charming, or if it was a side effect of vampirism, but it was working on him.

"I will come back," Stan replied, matching his grin, praying Kyle couldn't hear his heartbeat too loud.

It was well past sunrise, but early enough so that Stan wasn't late to school when he walked back into town. After returning home from school, he was confronted by his parents. He got quite the scolding, his parents forcing him to apologize to Shelly. The only thought that got him through was seeing Kyle again.

After that night, like clockwork, Stan snuck out and returned to the hidden woods every other night. Despite his inner terrors, the Broflovski family welcomed him kindly. Mrs. Broflovski had her reservations as he was human, but once Stan won her over she thought of him as one of her own. They were all delighted that Stan was an open-minded human and accommodated him, having Stan's favorite foods and water around, a prepared bathroom, and even a spot at the dinner table. Dusk turned into twilight, and twilight turned into dawn. The two grew closer and closer, chasing each other through the flowers, retelling stories in Kyle's treehouse, sharing snacks in the kitchen, playing with Ike, it didn't matter. Together they felt a little more whole than they were when apart.

"Can you sing me that song again, Stan?" Kyle requested, wading his toes and sitting at the edge of the shallow end of the lake. Stan, who was dozing off in Kyle's lap, mumbled a small noise of agreement. He cleared his throat a couple of times before inhaling slowly.

"Amazing grace how sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me I once was lost, but now I'm found Was blind but now I see

'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear And grace my fears relieved How precious did that grace appear The hour I first believed"

There were only so many things Kyle experienced throughout his sheltered life. He went game hunting for his own bear, subdued adult humans who wanted to massacre his family, and even braved a blizzard to search for Ike who got swept away as he discovered his flight ability. He doesn't ever recall being serenaded by anyone if you could even call it that. By no means was Stan the perfect singer. His voice, although young, was raspy. It was low and gravelly, almost like he was growling.

Listening to Stan, he had to check if he was floating from how light he felt. His voice is beautiful. Stan is beautiful. He could hear the richness of his tone, it made him wonder if this is what standing in the summer sun felt like. Warm, peaceful, and soothing, like sleeping in his parent's bed when he was a fledgling.

He opened his eyes when he realized Stan had stopped singing.

"You know, for an unalive being, your eyes are so full of life," Stan observed, reaching a hand to rest his fingertips on the right side of Kyle's jaw. Looking into Kyle's eyes made him feel like he was searching through a forest in the springtime. Teeming with bright green color, a breath of wild nature.

"That's very funny, as you who are filled with life energy have a gaze so dull and blank." Kyle retorted.

Stan allowed his hand to drop as he shifted his head in Kyle's lap.

"I feel the most alive when I'm with you."

Kyle froze. If he had a heart, he was sure it would be doing somersaults and cartwheels. His stomach flips at the sincerity in his words. He doesn't know why, but Stan has him in some kind of hold he can't break free from. It's so strange how someone could come stumbling into your life and make you feel so strongly, but Kyle wouldn't change it for anything.

"Thank you. That means quite a lot to me."

Stan could never get tired of Kyle's smile. It filled him with so much happiness, it drove him mad. Makes him think he could spend forever with him.

"Wait for me here," Kyle broke the cushy quiet, perturbed look on his face.

"Something up?" Stan asks, but he receives no answer as Kyle speeds away.

Kyle met his father halfway.

"Son, where is your companion?" Gerald inquires, an edge to his tone.

"Just by the lake. May I ask what this is about?" Kyle holds his arms out from his sides as if he could block him in the open space from getting closer.

"The village is searching the woods for him, he must leave now." The creases on Gerald's forehead deepen as he urges his son.

"The magic is supposed to stop them, I don't see why he has to go. He is safe here with us!"

Gerald knew he was going to meet resistance, but it didn't make it any easier. "This is too dangerous. The woods are supposed to be kept empty to guarantee our safety. The more people there are, the likelihood that someone is able to find the entrance increases. We may not like it, but Stan must leave and never return to prevent another incident like this."

"Pa! What are you saying? I can protect us! I'm ten years old, I'm not a little kid anymore! I don't want Stan to go! He's my best friend, he can't!" Distraught, Kyle didn't want to argue with his father. He grew antsy as he strained his ears to listen to the human crowd.

"Don't be foolish, Kyle. You know how this will end, worst case scenario. Stan gives us up, they find us, and we let them kill us, unless you're prepared to take on a whole town of humans. It is easy to slaughter but impossible to be the same afterward. You would have to kill children, ones even younger than you and Ike. I don't wish it upon you, even more so, us. Do you understand me now?"

"Stan would never do that! Please!" Kyle's eyes pricked with tears, not liking the odds of the outcomes playing through his head.

Behind the trunk of a nearby tree, Stan clamps his hands over his mouth to conceal his shock. Unsatisfied with his question unanswered and concerned for Kyle, he followed as quickly as he could. Thoughts that he should have stayed put were diminished as Sheila appears in front of him. Today her dress was claret satin, her heeled ankle boots white. Her ginger hair was in an immaculate updo, and her makeup was perfectly applied. Somberly she brushes a pine needle off his jacket and straightens the collar of his shirt.

"I don't want to go, Mrs. B." He whispered, face already wet with tears.

"We don't want you to go either, sweetheart." She smothers him in an embrace and flies to the estate. She whisks him into the kitchen where the rest of the Broflovski's were gathered and placed him into a chair.

"Stan!" Kyle engulfs him in a hug, their arms bolting to hold each other. The air was so dense, you'd need a butcher knife to cut through it easily.

"You are aware of what is happening, yes, son?" Gerald's cornflower orbs trained on Stan.

Stan just nods meekly over Kyle's shoulder, not wanting to let go. Ike forces himself in between the two boy's legs and does his best to be included in the hug. Sheila busies herself by rummaging in the cupboards.

"There is one more thing we need to do before you leave us tonight." Gerald continues, locking eyes with his wife. Sheila presents what she was searching for in the cupboards. She opened the dropper cap of a black glass bottle no bigger than her pointer finger.

"This is water from the Lethe."

Stan could feel the Broflovski brothers clutching him so tight, he almost couldn't breathe.

"Lethe, Greek meaning "oblivion". The Lethe, the river of forgetfulness. One drop can erase your most recent memories. One mouthful erases your whole life."

The bottle absolutely horrified every being in the house.

"Why, father?" Enchanting and fetching Kyle was no more. He was arctic, intransigent.

Releasing Stan and Ike, he stepped before them. Once again, his arms spread wide, as if to shield them.

"We don't have to do this, do we?" Kyle faced his father, chin tucked in, eyes blazing verdant.

"We don't have a choice, Kyle!" Gerald finally lost his composure.

"You think I take pleasure in this? I didn't think I would ever, in my existence, have to do this! We are monstrous leeches to mankind. Parasites, killers, inhumane. I don't know how, but Stan has broken the boundaries. Now, we must all pay the price."

Stan placed a hand on the small of Kyle's back to try to soothe him. "It's okay, Kyle."

Stan straightens his back, "I'll do it."

"Stan?" Kyle slumped to the tiled floor crestfallen, but he knew Stan was too.

"I started this whole mess. Now, I'll be the one to clean it up. I'm just one person. If I can warrant this family's safety, I won't hesitate to."

They knew Stan had meant to slacken the chains of their intertwined lives, but he had only secured them further.

He leveled himself to hold both of Kyle's frosty hands. "I thought it was just my rotten luck, I always get myself into trouble. Now, I think of it as fate. I was destined to meet you. I don't think any amount of Lethe will erase you from me. I won't let it."

As he stood to make his way to Shiela, Deja vu stuck him as Kyle grabbed hold of his forearm. Just like they first met. This time, he didn't let go.

"What if you forget me? Us?"

"That's impossible. I can't."

"How are you unmistaken?" Kyle's brows furrowed in cynicism.

"I didn't want to admit it too early, but seeing as this moment is all I have, I shall tell you. I love you."

It was like there was no one else in the room. Unabashed, Stan proclaimed his love.

"I didn't want to let you in, to see me for who I am. I'm just me, plain and ordinary. You made me feel special when really it is you who are special. Your eyes sparkle when you speak about your family. As you handle the flowers in the greenhouse, you make sure to be extra gentle. I would argue besides your strength, your mind is your might. After that first game of chess, I have always lost to you. Of course, I can never forget how you make me want to give you my heart."

They were all in awe of Stan, misty eyes all around the room. He was right. He was just one human. Crazy though, how one person can change your life.

"I'm ready."

After wiping her face with a tissue, Shiela cups his chin gently. She pulls the dropper from the bottle. The liquid inside was snowy white.

"Are you sure, maleńki?"

He doesn't respond right away, preoccupied with scanning the faces of the Broflovski's. Ike is weeping softly into his father's shoulder. Gerald does his best to give him an encouraging smile, but he too was putting on a brave front.

Lastly, the reason Stan felt good about his decision. Kyle's lengthy lashes are plastered with tears. He wanted to smooth out the frown lines on his face, but he was too far. Stan tried his best to drink in Kyle's silhouette. He wishes he could engrave Kyle into his brain so he could never have to forget him.

"Can I hold you before I go?"

Kyle has no second thoughts as he closes the distance, pulling Stan's hands through his curls. Stan thought this is what heaven might look like.

"I love you, too," Kyle murmured as if it were just something they would share. On the spur of the moment, Kyle unfastened his favorite brooch from his breast and pinned it inside Stan's jacket.

"Just once more," Stan begged, tracing Kyle's cheek.

Kyle would never refuse. "I love you."

One drop hits his tongue, cool and sweet. Stan's eyes shut like a babe who has been rocked to slumber. It has been done.

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witchesoz · 1 year

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Fashion in Oz: the Good Witches (2)

Given I couldn't find any pictures of the Good Witches in the 1902 extravaganza, I'll immediately jump to the MGM movie and its Good Witch, Glinda. Which is a fascinating case - because this character is the literal fusion of the original two Good Witches, bearing the name of the Good Witch of the South (Glinda) and yet holding the title of Good Witch of the North, and fulfilling the role of the two witches successively. And it is interesting to see that, in Glinda's costume right here, we have a fusion of visual elements taken from both of the literary characters. Indeed, the Good Witch holding a magic wand as tall as her (so a sort of magic staff) and having her dress covered in sparkling stars does come entirely from the Good Witch of the North - with the change of the stylized "N" at the top of the staff being changed here for a silvery star. Meanwhile, the fact that Glinda wears a sort of tall crown is taken from Glinda's depictions, as we saw earlier - though here Glinda's crown is larger, silvery and with stars at the top (to keep the whole "star" aesthetic). Of course, no need to point out that Glinda's headwear is also here to mimick and oppose the Wicked Witch's own hat. Interestingly, we find back here the curly red hair of Glinda in Baum's original description of the Good Witch of the South, even though here Billie Burke, while beautiful, plays a more mature Glinda than the original "young sorceress" Baum depicted her as. And... well I said red hair, but to be fair it is actually more of a venitian blond/strawberry blond kind of color, given how Burke's hair can look a deep blond depending on the lighting. We could almost say that the fact Glinda's dress is pink was maybe also lifted from the book illustrations of Glinda - as we saw before, John R. Neill added reds to the white of Glinda's outfits (or at least the red was added in the colorization of her dresses), and often it resulted in pink outfits. After all, pink is a "soft and feminine" color, isn't it? It might be a nod to these illustrations... or it might simply be the movie crew's very own invention. After all, they wanted to depict a "good witch", they wanted to depict a feminine character that was kind and gentle - and pink would certainly be the color to go. Overall, what the MGM movie did was also insist on a true... "fairy" aesthetic, or "fairy tale" vibe for the Glinda costume. The fact her magic staff has a star on top is made to make it seems more like a fairy magic wand (which is usually depicted with a star at the end) ; having her be in a pink costume with a heavy star motif also works in this "fairy" concept ; while her puffy dress is very... princess-like, a feeling that is reinforced by the "crown" she wears. All in all, without a doubt, we can say that this costume is one of a "fairy-princess". In fact, look carefully at the puffy, translucid sleeves. The way they are placed is no mere coincidence - they are not here to cover the arms, they are here to ornate the shoulders. And the way these "transluscent puffs" were shaped is clearly meant to evoke insect wings - or to be more precise, fairy wings. In fact there is a true irony when we look at the color palette. In the MGM movie Glinda gets all the silver (it is her main color patterns, silver and pink) - while in the original book it was the Wicked Witches who were associated with silver (silver shoes, silver whistle). And in reverse, in the MGM movie the Witches got a strong red pattern (red shoes, red smoke, red hourglass), while in the books red was the color of Glinda's lands and people. EDIT: Re-watching Glinda's scenes, I actually missed a detail in her outfit... She doesn't just have a star pattern on her dress, she also has a butterfly one! If you look carefully, she wears on her clothes small, silvery, shining butterflies. There is one around her neck, another by her left shoulder, and a third on her belt. It clearly reinforces the "fairy vibe" they were going with for this character

Given I have started looking into MGM's Glinda (or North-Glinda), who is a very unique character breaking the usual Good Witches pattern, I'll take a look at other incarnations of her before moving on to other adaptations of the original Good Witches (Locasta and South-Glinda). The most recent would be this incarnation, from "Legends of Oz: Dorothy's Return". We keep here a heavy MGM influence - the curly venitian blond hair (though it is a darker/browner shade of strawberry blond than the original MGM movie), a large, puffy, princess-like dress entirely pink, puffy shoulder pieces and a high crown... However this design changed significantly several details. Such as the skirt - quite "simple" in the MGM movie, here we have several levels piled on and wrapped up around each other, for a more complex and... "regal" I guess effect. The addition of numerous pearls on the lower part of the skirt notably enhance the feeling of "royalty" or at least "wealth" this Glinda produces - I wonder if the pearls on her dress are meant to evoke the "pearl of truth" Glinda is said to wield in "The Marvelous Land of Oz"... Other details include the puffy shoulder pieces losing the "translucid fairy wings" effect to become more traditional puffy, elbow-long sleeves, typical of "old-fashioned" dresses ; the crown, which is here actually a high diadem/tiara instead of a full circling crown, or even how the silver-and-pink palette becomes here white-and-pink. But the most significant change would probably be the change of Glinda's pattern. Here, no more stars. On her dress and in her tiara, what you see is flowers - and even her sleeves and collar are shaped like petals. Oh, and of course the size of her star-topped staff got massively reduced, now becoming just a simple "magic wand".

Another North-Glinda incarnation comes from the cartoon series "The Wizard of Oz". No, not the recent thing for little kiddies that is posted everywhere on Youtube nowadays - I am speaking of the unfinished 1990 cartoon, supposed to be a sequel to the MGM movie. Their version of Glinda was based on the MGM character, but they added numerous design changes. Most notorious being that Glinda suddenly turns blonde for some reason. The star pattern of Glinda's dress is still present (with a bigger, golden star on her cleavage, to represent the North star which, in this cartoon, she is the mistress of), but the dress herself has a drastic color change, with only the torso part of the dress being pink and the rest, skirt plus sleeves, becoming pure white. Glinda keeps the strange high pink crown of MGM's Glinda, but the jewels on it go from random silvery jewels to deep purple ones actually shaped in a given pattern - you can see a crescent moon on the crown. As for her wand, while still longer than a traditional magic wand, it is still not as long as the MGM character's original staff, and if you look closely you will notice that a purple pattern appears on the star at the top - a crescent of moon seemingly passing in front of the sun (a motif that Owl House fans will recognize without a doubt). You can see it all in detail here:

Given the show's disdain (or ignorance) of the original books, I doubt the addition of purple in this Glinda's designs were supposed to be a hint at the Gillikin country. A last addition by the cartoon is the apparition of a few butterfly-shaped ornaments on Glinda's dress: one on her belt, a second on her shoulder, and a third around her neck. EDIT: Okay I got something completely wrong. I thought the butterflies in Glinda's dress were invented by this cartoon but actually NO! I checked back and the butterflies ARE on the original MGM Glinda's dress - silvery and shining. It is just that I never noticed them before. So my bad

#fashion in oz #land of oz #wizard of oz #glinda #good witch of the north #good witch of the south #dress #outfit #mgm movie #mgm cartoon #the legend of OZ

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reapers-carino · 2 years

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Alpha Doomfirst if you dont mind? ;-;

((This is a continuation of this fic, if you do not mind))

Five months had passed since that fateful night and each day had felt like blissful paradise and anxious agony. Akande Ogundimu’s face had been plastered on every news station, domestic and international, for a month after his escape. The news speculated over who broke him out, how or if he was involved in the death of the sketchy Venitian businessman Augustin Venturo, and what plans the man had since he had escaped. You, of course, had been interviewed by several different authorities; the Numbani Police Department, the Nigerian Armed Forces, and even Interpol. Each interview had ended in failure, however. There was no footage that showed the man at your compound of a home, nor was there any evidence, scenting or otherwise, that indicated that the man had even made contact with you in recent months. So after each individual interview, you ended up back at home, patiently waiting for the signal that you would soon be reunited with your mate.

Sighing softly, your eyes darted away from the news reel that scrolled lazily along the bottom of your vanity’s mirror and up to the picture from your mating/marriage ceremony and celebration. That had been one of the happiest days of both of your lives, the smiles stretched across both of your faces so genuine and gleeful. Akande and you were both dressed in rich, bright reds; your crimson gele and iro embroidered with hand-stitched golden flowers and hundreds of shimmering pearlescent beads. Your buba was a golden cream in color, the beading a softer pink in color with a neckline that showed off your collarbones and shoulders. Akande’s sokoto and buba were the same gold-cream color as your own, his agbada and fila a more masculine version of your gele and iro. You were tucked neatly against his side, his arm wrapped tight around your waist as the both of you stared into one another’s eyes as if you were the only two people that existed in the world. It had been a beautiful day, a mere few months after his accident and subsequent prosthesis installation. Your fingers trailed over the picture in the mirror, smiling melancholy before you remembered why you had initially sat down.

The shea and argan creme that you had been untwisting your hair with laid forgotten, half of your hair had been untwisted, the other half still stuck in those two strand twists that you had patiently plaited your hair into the night before. Dipping your fingers in the creme, you began the dance again; zoning out as you made your way through the rest of your hair. Carefully you pushed the twisted curls up using your fingertips, gelling down your edges and smiling contently as you wrapped a scarf around them.

“Wow…que bonito. But god that took forever”

Your eyes went round, grabbing the blaster pistol that was affixed to the underside of your vanity. There was no one in the mirror and no discernible scent in the air that your nose could catch onto. Jumping up, your vanity seat flew back, almost clattering to the ground as you turned, only to have the seat stop inches from the ground.

“What the–”

The chair slowly lifted up from its impossible hovering position before being stood upright once more. Pointing your gun in the general direction of the chair, your eyes darted left then right and left again, still unable to see who, or what, was in the room with you.

“You should be careful with where you point that thing.”

You barely bit back a snarl as you twisted to see just where in the hell the voice was coming from, confusion wrinkling your brow. It felt like she was mocking you, playing

“Hey calm down, I’m a friend.”

The voice practically purred from right next to her, a scarf appearing from thin air and dropping onto your chair. The scent slammed into you like a wall, knees wobbling briefly as your grip on the pistol weakened before tightening. Sunflower and nutmeg and amber with the delicious tinge of citrus, the scent of an impending rut wrapping so tightly around your senses you thought you might choke. Tears stung traitorously in your eyes as you slowly lowered your pistol, knowing there was no way anyone would have gotten such a strongly scented item from Akande without his permission.

“There you go…”

A woman glimmered to life in front of you; long, dark hair dyed and side shaven, warm brown skin accented by varying shades of purple, blue and indigo. The mischievous smirk that creased her lips gave you pause before she extended her hand to you, long nails–no gloves, perhaps both–gently scratching the back of your hand as you shook her’s.

“Akande sent me to pick you up”, she said nonchalantly, letting your hand go with a flourish of her hand, turning her back on you. “He said he’d come himself buuut, you know. The whole being wanted thing. Nice place you have here…”

“Who are you”, you asked incredulously as she walked around your bedroom as if it was her own, picking up pictures and objects curiously before placing them down and glancing over her shoulder at you once more.

“You can call me Sombra. So…you going to go pack? We don’t have all day.”

You had stood frozen as she galavanted around the room, before shaking your head as she directly spoke to you once more. This was not the time to freeze, it was finally time for you to unite with your mate and to never be separated from him again. You had packed a bag the night of his initial visit, a small one with a few outfits, your necessary toiletries and an encrypted photo album that held images from the decades you had spent together. You slid a few pieces of sentimental jewelry on before grabbing the bag from the closet and quickly snatching up the scarf. A low purr started in your chest, giving the scarf a gentle nuzzle and a quick sniff. Shiver rolling down your spine, you resisted the urge to close your eyes and lose yourself within his aura before your eyes found Sombra’s again. She looked like the cat that had caught the canary as she sauntered over, patting you on the shoulder sympathetically, you thought, before moving past you.

“Aw don’t look so shy”, she teased, the lilt of a barely contained chuckle in her voice. “It has been a while. Maybe you can help the big guy unwind.”

You could feel the flush climb up your cheeks and down into your chest but you refused to cow to this joker of a girl.

“That was the plan”, you hummed softly, following behind the younger woman as she began to walk out of the door, willing the burn of your cheeks to dissipate. “How do you intend to get us out of here unseen? If you hadn’t noticed, his escape has painted a very persistent target on my back.”

“Oh don’t worry about that”,Sombra dismissed, sliding down the banister and jumping off with a flourish of her fingers. This time they glowed, purple lines running from the tips of her nails up her arms and all the way to the weird contraption on her back. “I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”

Brow furrowing, you weren’t exactly sure you followed, but if Akande had entrusted your trip to this woman…then you would trust him.

“Alright”, you answered confidently, quickly making your way down the stairs and stopping behind her. Sombra held up her hand briefly making you stop short before pulling up a purple-tinted holoscreen. Her fingers danced across the screen, your eyes briefly catching sight of what had to be surveillance of your home from several different feeds before everything froze.

“There we go…okay, keep your head low and let’s go.”

Parked outside of your home was a hover vehicle with one of the gaudiest, obnoxiously loud logo for a supposed ‘DF Pizza Service’. The cartoon lion on the front was holding a ‘thumbs up’ with one paw and in the other it held a very gooey and cheesy looking pizza. You couldn’t help but balk, eyes slowly trailing over to Sombra who was climbing in the back of the van. She actually snorted when she saw your disgusted expression before sweeping an arm out and motioning for you to hurry up.

“Oh god you guys have the same expressions”, she snorted, her nose wrinkling up as genuine laughter bubbled from her lips. “Pobrecito…I promise it’s a short ride and then you’ll get to be in your big, strong Alpha’s arms.”

Her tone dripped with sarcasm before she completely moved back into the vehicle. Huffing softly, you reluctantly climbed into the back of the vehicle, praying that this trip was just as quick as Sombra had implied.

Your stomach rolled as Sombra helped you off of the holo-ship, whether from anxiousness or the turbulence the two of you had dealt with the entire ride, you did not know. After the delivery truck, the two of you moved between two different holo-ships before you were finally delivered to what you could only guess was their current home base. There was an unassuming small building directly in front of you, with a large piece of land attached but much too small to hold more than one or two people snugly. There obviously must be more but first you’d get your solid ground footing back.

“Welcome to Talon HQ”, Sombra said as both your feet finally touched solid ground, you actually squeezing both of her hands in appreciation.

She had loosened up during the ride, sharing a few pictures that had been taken over the last few months. Most of them were candid and goofy, meals being eaten together, awkward exercise angles and even a few face masks. She was a peculiar person but you did not know if you would deem her as a bad person.

“Thank you so much”, you said, taking one unsteady step then another, holding on tight to your bag. Your eyes searched the horizon for some kind of sign of Akande before looking at Sombra confused. You knew he wouldn’t miss a chance to greet you, absolutely knew it.

Tipping her head forward, she silently indicated that you should walk towards the building in front of you. Biting back a soft whimper of disappointment, you took several steps forward before it felt like you had walked through a bubble. Stumbling forward you keened as a scent that smelled of home suddenly slammed into you, strong arms wrapping about you to keep you from falling. Tears sprang to your eyes, your heart jumping into your throat as you tilted your head up and locked eyes with Akande, the soft smile on his lips making your heart soar.

“De”, you whined out, dropping the bag in your hand and throwing your arms around his neck. He lifted you up effortlessly, your arms squeezing even tighter around him, a hiccup of an overjoyed sob leaving your mouth. “Oko mi…I have missed you.”

He delicately crushed you to his body, tempering his strength but holding you as closely as humanly allowed. His scent poured over you as he nuzzled into your neck, ears barely hearing the soft words he murmured as he kissed the top of your head and temples and cheeks. Wrapping your legs around his waist you leaned back slightly in his arms, your hands coming up to cup his face to study it and recommit everything to memory. Those gorgeous high cheekbones and rugged jaw, those brown eyes that shone with absolute adoration for you, the lips that kept interrupting your focus by kissing you once then twice then thrice. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing in deeply to quell your tears.

“Ife mi”, he breathed as he placed both hands snuggly under your ass, pushing you up ever so slightly higher. Your eyes looked into his almost shyly, your heart fluttering like it had the first time you had kissed, the first time you had mated, like every time he looked at you. “I have missed you.”

The tears returned, calmer but just as meaningful, pressing one small kiss against his lips then another and another before you absolutely melted into him. Warmth burst in your chest, melting down your body and to your toes, pooling lazily in your core. You had missed the softness of his lips, missed the way he kissed you so tenderly as if he worshiped you with each one. Your thumbs rubbed slow circles against his jawline as you tried to pull him even closer, a harsh shiver rolling down your spine at the quiet growl that began to rumble in his throat. Oh gods how you had missed your Alpha. The hand under your ass began to gently massage at the flesh through your shorts, a muted whine caught in your chest as your legs tightened around him. His scent was intoxicating you, his hands and lips and torso making your body feel like it was slowly being pushed towards the sun.

Your lungs began to burn as they demanded air from you, pulling you reluctantly from the kiss, your eyes peering open as you breathed against his lips.

“Gods I have missed you”, you breathed out, pressing a quick brief kiss to his lips before you heard exaggerated gagging from behind you.

“Dios mio”, Sombra ‘gagged’ from behind, your head twisting to more or less pout at the other woman. Her hand was over her middle, making another exaggerated ‘puking’ potion, purple x’d out skeletons ‘falling from her mouth’. “Get a room!”

Rolling your eyes you couldn’t help the small chuckle that spilled from your lips at the ridiculous show, the soft scoff from Akande not going unnoticed by you. Turning back to him, his lips had tugged down in a slight scowl, inching up as you kissed his cheek.

“The suggestion is not a bad one De”, you murmured near his ear, pulling back with a shrug of your shoulder and a suggestive smile on your lips.

The scent of his incoming rut was near overpowering and while you wanted to talk with the man and learn of what he had been up to when you were apart, the need to lay with your mate was even stronger. He smiled at you, the expression smaller but just as meaningful as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before gently letting you down. You purred softly as you reached down and picked up your bag, Akande quickly taking the bag out of your hand and giving a soft admonishing sniff.

“What a gentleman”, Sombra teased with a half snort before beginning to take the lead, walking towards the set of buildings that you had completely missed.

The small, decrepit building had turned into a fairly large, stylish pre-fab of sorts; it looked more like a small apartment building versus any kind of ‘villainous compound’. The outside was a simple white, material you did not know; it stood three stories high, was fairly wide and windowless although you couldn’t tell how far back it stretched. You vaguely wondered if it was Vishkar-made, the sharp corners, clean coloring and material screamed their design. Squeaking softly, you chuckled as Akande tucked you into his side, his left arm wrapping around your waist to pull you close.

“Let’s go.”

You nodded happily, nuzzling into the side of his chest, practically chirping with excitement as he maneuvered you forward. He teasingly swayed with you as you walked, the man’s thumb rubbing small circles into your side, a quiet chuckle leaving your lips at the normalcy of it all the. Sombra led the way, walking backwards for a brief moment before scoffing about the ‘lovebirds’ and turning back around. As soon as the three of you made it to the compound, she held up a hand.

“Hold it”, she said, Akande stopping you from pushing forwards, eyes looking at the both of them in confusion.

Sombra pressed her hand to the wall next to the door frame, hand briefly glowing purple before a holo-screen appearing against the surface before an electronic voice requested biometrics.

“Welcome, please look or press hand onto the holo-pad.”

“There we go”, she said with a small smile before motioning at you, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Gotta add you into the system so the lasers don’t melt you.”

“Lasers”, you questioned as you took a half step foward, Akande’s hand still on your back, and pressing your left hand into the pad.

You flinched as you felt a small prick against your finger, brow furrowing as you looked back at Akande incredulously, receiving a headshake that said he would explain it to you later. Sombra gave a soft snort as the holo-pad gave a soft affirmative beep before the door slid opened, the small hacker walking through the door and not waiting to see if the two of you would follow behind. Akande’s arm tightened around your hips once more, pushing you through the door and leading you into the compound as the door closed with a soft hiss. For ‘international terrorists’, it looks like they lived very cozily.

The entryway had an open design, the sleek white of the outside giving way to black and white swirled marble flooring, two sets of black floating staircases leading to a second floor and a completely open kitchen. Overall it was very ‘modern’ but it wasn’t without its creature comforts. As Akande led you further in you were able to see the recessed living room area filled to the brim with various pillows and handheld gaming systems and a small table in the center had a basket filled with snacks from all over the world. The kitchen’s stainless steel fridge was covered in various magnets and notes with one ‘reminder-chore’ holo-board affixed to the top. You also noticed three different coffee machines, a tea kettle and a tea press along the counter as well as more instant coffees packets/pouches than you think you had ever seen. It appeared that those were Sombra, the petite hacker making her way to them and riffling through until she found one that fit her taste, smiling contently before she went to grab the tea kettle.

Curiosity tickled at your brain, but your need for privacy with your Alpha was stronger, Akande smiling as your fingers lasted with his as he began to climb the staircase to the right and you followed close behind him. The second floor looked extremely unassuming; a plush black rug running along the entirety of the floor, the only hint that there were rooms being the recessed rectangular biometric locks or handles that stood out against the bright white wall. Turning right, Akande went to the room at the very end of the hall, placing his hand against the door and ushering you in before locking the door behind him. You shivered, immediately blanketed in the scent home, the scent of your mate, your knees shaking as you took several steps further into the room.

The room was deceptively much larger inside than you would have guessed from the outside, rivaling the size of your master bedroom back at home. You smiled at the color scheme of the entire room, the rich golds and cremes and tans accented with pops of crimson and jade and deep mahogany. A bookshelf filled with physical books stood in one corner of the room, a large mahogany wardrobe standing on the opposite side, no doubt full of outfits tailored specifically for the well dressed man. Walking further in, you smiled at the limestone flooring under your feet, no doubt from the same stonemason in Ogun that had laid the floors in your home outside of Numbani.

He even had pictures sprinkled around the room; pictures of his parents and his family, pictures of just you, pictures of your mating-wedding day, pictures of his championship win. His gauntlet sat in a clear case, important but obviously not as much as all of the other imagery he had portrayed in the room. Spinning around, you grinned widely at your husband and mate, the man returning the look as he opened his arms wide. You carefully toed off your sandals before running across the room and launching yourself into his arms, Akande effortlessly lifting you up as you buried your face into his shoulder and breathed his scent in.

Your head spun as you were assaulted by his scent once more, sweet spices and citrus and that beautiful floral amber scent twisting around you, making you moan low in your throat. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, your hands gently traced up his spine as your lips dotted kisses against his deep umber skin, relishing in the subtle taste that was him. You had missed this, desperately so. Omegas weren’t meant to be separated from their Alphas so long, or at least that is what the romantic tragedies would have you think. They wrote of a gnawing emptiness that would ruin you spiritually, leaving you a husk of what you once were before destroying you physically. That or it could drive an omega literally insane and make an Alpha go feral. Of course those were nothing but old wives tales, old superstitions from a bygone time used to discourage breakups or separations. But with the way you clung to Akande, you had to wonder if there was a sliver of truth in the lie.

Your lips continued their journey, skipping over the tank her wore and kissing from where his neck and shoulder met, licking hungrily over his mating mark and smiling lustfully at the full body shudder that rushed through Akande. His hands tightened on your hips, fingers digging into your ass as he began to massage you gently through your clothes, a low rumble of desire starting in his chest. You chuckled breathily as you pulled away from his neck, littering kisses up his neck to his jaw until you could press your forehead against his. His ochre eyes bore into your own, hunger, desire and unbridled need burning a hole into you and sending fire straight into your core.

Akande growled possessively as he pressed a searing kiss against you lips, a low moan catching in your throat before you responded, your hands cupping the back of his head and pushing him closer. Your back arched as he nibbled lightly at your bottom lip, lightning passing from where you lips touched through your nipples and straight into your slick drenched cunt. His tongue gently lapped at your bottom lip asking for entrance, your lips parting instantly to grant him passage. You whined as your tongues mingled, the taste of his morning coffee still lingering on his tongue, clinging to him as he began to walk you towards the bed. Clawing at the back of his neck your toes curled as he explored every inch of your mouth with his own, stopping only when he dropped you unceremoniously onto the bed. Squeaking softly, you bounced off of the bed, Akande still standing and locking you in place with a smoldering stare. You felt so vulnerable and needy at the same time, your hands teasingly tracing up your body and squeezing gently at your breasts to further tempt the man into taking you.

“Please Alpha…I need you…”

Akande sharply inhaled as he pulled the shirt he was wearing up and over his head quickly, tossing it to the side and climbing onto the bed. The bed dipped as Akande trapped you between his knees, the man straddling you as his hands dove under the high cut tunic top you wore, pushing the fabric up and over your head. He wanted, no, needed to see you. His hands returned to your waist, his eyes locked on the rising and falling of your chest behind the thin material of your cup-less bra, your eyes turning up to gaze up at him docilely. His breathing hitched for a brief second before you turned your head to the left and tilted your head upwards exposing your neck to him once more, a silent plea for your Alpha to take you as his once more. Akande would not wait for another invitation.

His hands smoothed up your sides and over your breasts, crying out as he rolled both your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Your hips rolled, arching off of the bed and towards him, whimpering needily as your hands shakily tried to reach back to unhook your bra. The fighter chuckled huskily his hands dragging away from your breasts briefly and yanking the material apart like it was tissue paper. Akande’s hands removed the torn fabric, cupping both breasts tenderly and dipping his head down, his tongue circling around your nipple and suckling hungrily. Stars danced in your eyes, a whimpering cry escaping from your throat as you grabbed the back of his head and pressed him closer. He dragged himself away from your nipple and to the swell of your breast, pressing hard kisses and nips to your heated skin, nipping at your collarbone and kissing his way up to your mark. Your nails dug deep into his shoulders as his lips crashed against your mark, a broken sob tumbling from your lips as his teeth grazed the spot that tied you to one another.

“Please…”

You cried out as Akande pulled away, tears springing to your eyes as you looked to him in confusion, the ferocity his rut making his eyes practically glow, only tempered by the man’s need for control.

“Not yet beloved”, he sighed softly against your lips, shaking his head and pulling back once more.

Akande, even when your heats or his ruts came to pass, was never one to succumb completely to his baser instincts. Whether the man’s decades of training or his own dedication and patience you did not know but he would do thing his way while satisfying the need that ached inside of both of you. Pulling away from you, Akande sat back on his knees and began to completely disrobe you, easily lifting your body up to pull the bra off and sliding your shorts and underwear off in one smooth movement. Quickly he pulled his own loose shorts and and boxer briefs off, tossing them to the side as he loomed over you. Your mouth watered hungrily as you stared as his twitching cock, the head ruddy and dark, glistening with pre-cum that you just wanted to taste. There would be plenty of time for that later.

You whined as he pulled away from you, your heart thundering in your chest as you suddenly felt abandoned again without your Alpha’s touch. A desperate whine began in your throat, hushed quickly when his nails gently scratched at your outer thighs. Your toes curled slightly, back arching as you pressed into his touch and spread your legs slightly, hoping to lull him in with the pure scent of you. His husky chuckle sent waves of pleasure through your body, your heavy lidded eyes staring hungrily, biting your bottom lip hard as your husband, your Alpha moved closer. Yes, this is all you had wanted, had dream–

“O-Oh…”

The gasp that tumbled from your throat was barely audible as Akande didn’t move his body between your legs but instead laid his full body down, his face hovering directly over your dripping mound. Akande gave you a smirk that you knew only a jackal could match before diving in, your back arching off of the bed. Your mate was relentless, his arms wrapping tight around your thighs; both to keep you from moving and to stop you from snapping your legs closed. A sob was wrested from your throat as his tongue licked the soaked lips of your sex, honey-sweet slick quickly dripping to replace it. He drank from you like a man who had found an oasis in the desert, your body quivering as each lap of his tongue and suck from his lips would tear you apart. He was so warm, the silken heat of his tongue making your stomach twist up tighter and tighter, frenzied and needy whines leaving your throat as your hands came to rest on Akande’s head.

You could practically feel him grin against your sex, relinquishing your thighs, one arm wrapping around your hips to lock you in place while the other hand pressed right below your belly button to stop you from grinding against his face. He was merciful, his hand massaging your mons as he suckled at your clit, sending you over the edge as you pushed him even closer to you. He released your clit quickly before he began to drink hungrily from you, making a show of it as finally pulled back. His lips were covered in your essence as were his chin, Akande licking his lips slowly before wiping your juices from his chin and sucking it from his fingers. He was still not done with you however, sitting fully up and on his knees.

Akande’s hands were searing hot as they grabbed your hips and lifted them off of the bed until they were lined with his shaft, your hands balling into the sheets as anticipation churned in your belly. Bending over your body, he held you with his forearm, his hand dipping between both of your bodies so he could line himself up with your entrance, your toes curling and calves tensing as the head of his cock rubbed up and down before slipping in. Sharply sucking air in, gracious tears burning in your eyes and blurring your vision as he slipped inside of you bit by bit, bottoming out with low grunt. Euphoric nirvana made your vision bleary, legs wrapping needily around Akande’s waist to pull him close as he began to thrust into you, arms lifting to beg him to lean down. You were so full of him, his scent potent and desirous, your mind driven to frenzied longing by how he had set all of your senses aflame. You needed him closer, needed to feel more of him, taste more of him, love more of him.

Akande obliged you, carefully leaning over so he didn’t slip out, your arms wrapping around his shoulders and moaning as he locked lips with you. Akande caught your cries against his lips as his hips pulled back and slammed back into you, his pace tempered but each thrust as ferocious as the last. Your nails dug into his back, lungs burning and stars dancing in your eyes as you finally broke the kiss, the slight taste of you mixed with him lingering on your tongue, turning your head away and gulping air into your lungs. Akande’s breath tickled the shell of your ear, the man’s head dropping next to your shoulder as his pace picked up, all of your nerves throbbing in tune with your quickening pulse.

“Ìfẹ́ mi…how I have missed you.”

His voice growled deep into your ears, a broken sob tumbling from your lips, your slick drenched walls tightening around him. He kissed your temple, the huskiness of his voice making your entire body tense and fall over the precipice of a small orgasm, twitching and crying out for him as your walls squeezed around him. A low rumble of desire started in his chest as he slowed for a brief second, pulling his hips back for a pregnant moment before slamming in, pulling a lustful scream of his name from your lips. You could feel him smile against your temple as his hips continued to pound into yours, kissing several times before his husky voice began to speak again.

“I have dreamed of hearing your voice everyday”,he purred low into your ears, your entire body shivering at the full body manipulation he was assaulting you with. “I’ve thought of nothing but your body beneath mine since we reunited. I have missed you my omega.”

“Akande”, you sobbed, your voice thick with emotion as tears rolled down your cheeks, a low and needy keen for the man humming in your chest.

The man nuzzled against your cheek until you turned your head and captured your lips again, his thrusts growing slower but grinding even deeper inside of you. Adoration and passion and re-attachment and bonding made your body tingle, the two of you breaking away briefly to pull in a breath before hungrily diving back in. Neither of you dared to close your eyes, immeasurable emotions being communicated through look alone, the pains of years long separations mending bit by bit. Despite popular belief and slander, Akande had always been a man that had been open and free with his emotions, tender-hearted, loving and caring.

His ochre eyes communicated a desperation and happiness that he could never put into words, fear and peace fighting in equal measure. Even without his words, you knew what he was feeling and how even in this most joyous occasion he was hurting because your heart ached identically. The two of you had been torn from one another unceremoniously; his attack on the museum had been planned but it going so awry without backup was not, a betrayal that hadn’t been forgotten.

Even after his trial and his incarceration, they were not allowed the basic right to visitations that mated pairs were supposed to had, the man treated more harshly due to his acts against Overwatch agents. The world’s sweethearts’ had pulled the cruelest of cards, keeping two living mated partners apart, denying all conjugal visitation or face to face communications. The physiological and psychological needs of mates was something that had been studied time and time again and the mental havoc it wrought on those that were denied one another ranged from mildly inconveniencing to completely debilitating. The both of you had prevailed fortunately and this is where the healing could get started.

Your hands dragged up from his back, cupping his face tenderly and rubbing at apples of his cheeks slowly, peppering dozens of smaller kisses against his lips. Akande’s eyes implored your own, gently bumping your forehead with his and pulling away to take a pant but never looking away.

“No one will take you from me again”, your breathed out, breath nary above a whisper before placing another peck against his lips. “Never again, Ọlọ́kàn mi. I swear it, Alpha. I will burn the world down to get to you…”

Akande’s eyes widened before they softened and calmed, the pure adoration making your body shiver harder as your heart raced. His hips picked up pace but he did not lift himself from you, him needing to feel you as much as you needed to feel him, his forearms bracing himself right above your curls. His lips crashed into yours, the desperation replaced by loving gratitude, your hands returning to around his neck as his hips began to crash into yours. He quickly devoured every desirous sound that left your lips, his own low, breathy moans mixing with yours. Pointing your toes, you locked your legs around his waist even tighter, whining as you pulled him deeper inside of you. You were drowning in him, so close to plunging into all that he had to give you, your body shuddering as you tightened around him. The man responded with a low grunt against your ear, your fingers splayed, feeling the muscles in his back begin to tense, his brow furrowing against your own as he drew in shaky breaths. Dragging your nails up his back you rested your fingers gently on the back of his neck as you turned your head and presented your mark to him your tongue darting out to barely reach his.

“Mo nifẹ ẹ”,you breathed out as your fingers curled gently on the back of his neck, inhaling sharply as you felt his lips graze your mark. His thrusts grew even more disjointed but stronger as he lost himself in you, you both absolutely intoxicated with the scent of the other, your love drunk words tumbling from your lips like a prayer. “Mo nifẹ ẹ, mo nifẹ ẹ, mo nifẹ ẹ. I love you Akande…ngh!”

The two of you fell apart in each others arms all at once, Akande biting into your mark as tenderly as he could when your walls contracted around him. Your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, grounding yourself in his touch as the molten heat of his seed coated your walls, the man’s shoulders and traps tight as he tried not to drop all his weight on you, his hips still grinding against your oversensitive mound. Your entangled scents had completely filled the room; sunflowers and irises like the garden back home, sweet allspice and coconut and citrus wrapped with heady scents of amber and myrrh. Your head was swimming as he finally relinquished your shoulder, tongue gently lapping at the lazily bleeding wound as his knot began to swell inside of you, the man’s full lips kissing the side of your neck and your cheek briefly.

“Hold on”, he breathed against cheek, your body shivering as you gave a brief nod, legs and arms wrapping tighter around him as Akande grunted and flipped over. His knot didn’t budge as you cuddled into his chest, one of Akande’s hands resting on your lower back while the other gently moved to your hair, lightly pulling at the curls that had been flattened during all of the fun. “I love you, awẹ́lẹ́wà mi.”

You nuzzled closer into his chest, your energy absolutely spent but your soul feeling whole for the first time in years. The gods had brought you back to the love of your life, to your one in a billion connection and for that you would be eternally grateful, your mind absolutely positive Akande felt the same. His hands massaged slow circles up and down your spine as he continued to gently and carefully detangle your hair, your face nuzzling closer as sincere peace and love blanketed the both of you. You knew you would never let him go again, knowing he was meant to be in your arms and he in yours.

_________

Ife mi-My Love

Oko mi-My husband

Mo nifẹ ẹ- shortened vers. of Mo ní ìfẹ́ rẹ, I love you

awẹ́lẹ́wà mi- my exceedingly beautiful woman

#Anonymous #Doomfist #Overwatch #Overwatch fic #Overwatch headcanons #Doomfist Overwatch #Akande Ogundimu #Alpha! Doomfist #Alpha! Akande Ogundimu #Doomfist x Reader #Overwatch reader insert #Reader x doomfist #Akande Ogundimu x Reader #Akande x Reader #Doomfist/Reader #abo #A/B/O #A/B/O dynamic #Heat

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wonderarium · 1 year

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Trick or treat ! *I'm dressed in a LARP outfit because I'm lazy, depicting some venitian renaissance inspired outfit in reds, off white and gold with matching jewelry*

im not funny im sorry

#trickortreat

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mask131 · 1 year

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The Art of the Myth (5)

Here is a very beautiful piece by Karl Friedrich Schinkel: Ouranos and the Dance of the Stars (1883/1884)

Then we have two paintings by Giovanni Battista Zelotti, representing the Venitian painting of the Renaissance. A first painting known as “Apollo flaying Marsyas” (or The Punishment of Marsyas). Beyond Apollo apparently starting to go bald ( but I am sure it is just a re-using of the traditional painting idea that “a bigger and greater forehead means intelligence and nobility”), I love how everybody around is very chill and okay with the flaying. The nymphs just look passively, and the satyr nearby holds his hand like “See? That’s what’s going to happen if you don’t behave!”. And I do have to say I always adore these deep landscape perspective with unusual colors - this blue valley seems so fantastical.

The only other mythological piece of Zelotti I could find was this one: “Venus between Mars and Neptune”. It was a decoration for the ceiling of a hall in the Dukal Palace of Venise, and I don’t think it represents any particular myth, or if it represents a trinity it must be one belonging to Roman mythology that I do not know of. I would rather believe it is an allegory for Venice’s very own civilization, with Venus (beauty of Venice) being born out of the efforts of glorious military (Mars) and the sea business (Neptune). I’m sure there’s something to say about Venus holding a lion’s head (maybe tied to Venise’s emblems? I don’t know enoug about Renaissance Venise...)

And let’s end our turn with Jan Cossiers, a baroque Flemish painter of the 17th century. I only got three of his paintings - he did a “Satyr welcomed by peasants” one I would have loved to include, but couldn’t find a good online version. So let’s simply enjoy his Narcissus:

... with the interesting choice of NOT depicting the reflection of Narcissus (which is quite unusual for a painting about the theme ; he juts hints at it).

Then his famous “Prometheus stealing fire”:

... with a Super-Mustache Prometheus.

And finally one of his most striking pieces: “Jupiter and Lycaon”

... with a Jupiter that looks like a cross between Jesus and Christopher Lee, a Lycaon straight out of a Red Riding Hood nightmare, and a friggin terrifying angry eagle (in fact it is quite funny how Jupiter also seems to be shielding Lycaon from the eagle’s wrath).

#the art of the myth #greek mythology #painting #art #jupiter #zeus #lycaon #prometheus #narcissus #ouranos #marsyas #apollo #roman mythology #venus #neptune #jan cossiers #karl friedrich schinkel #giovanni battista zelotti

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color-theory-hooray · 1 year

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Response: Matisse

The intricacies of color in Matisse's and his very decision-making process are analyzed in this episode about his "The Red Studio" painting. I find every aspect of these conversations reveals new insights about the art process, or about color theory.

The issue that most piqued my curiosity was the use of Venitian Red, and it's usual use in under-paintings. I think an artist like Matisse, painting for judges and other artists, would have been conscious of this irony. I think that colors have meanings that are audience-dependent, and that Matisse plays with these expectations whether deliberately or subconsciously.

I have also found myself thinking about his decisions with foreground and background in mind. The way that the red changes, fades elements into the background, and pushes the very background into the foreground, shows that color choice can have profound effects on our spacial understanding of an image. The flatness of the painting in spite of perspective illusions is part of its appeal. The painting's depth comes in other ways- like the variations of red created by underlying colors.

Matisse's decisions in this painting are interesting, not the least because his use of red is a sharp turn for the original painting underneath. That under this painting exists a nearly finished piece in it's own right, speaks to the boldness of Matisse's artistic choice. The risk he took in using the red is an interesting window into Matisse's vision, but I enjoy also how it caused interviewees to contemplate their own processes.

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skullofjoy · 6 years

Photo

Oleg Turchin

#Oleg Turchin #painting #venitian mask #ruff #monkey #throne #chain #red #apple

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quicksilver-rain · 2 years

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I decided to put some of my series' of stickers in a single post for the sake of brevity.

This is the D&D Core Classes Series, which are the stickers featured in the Goblin Grab Bags!

{shop link in pinned post}

ID: individual die-cut stickers depicting each core D&D Classes:

Sorcerer: a white-barked tree with a small, round medallion nestled in the roots of it. On the Medallion is a red finger-print.

Wizard: A purple spellbook, wreathed in magic that has several bookmarks in it. On the front cover is an eye, with a small crown above it. There is also a roll of paper behind it.

Cleric: two crossed cylindrical cases which presumably contain some sort of religious artifacts or texts. One is light green and blue, while the other is dark red and violet. There is a small halo of light around them.

Paladin: a blue kite shield engraved with an image of armored hands cupping a divine light on a dark purple background.

Bard: a hand harp made of blue wood sitting beside an orange, Venitian style mask

Warlock: a scroll of paper, sealed with a goopy magical seal, which has a kyoketsu-shoge (a knife which has one side of a chain or cord attached to the hilt and a weight attached to the other) wrapped around it.

Ranger: a light coloured shortbow beside an orange and teal quiver filled with arrows. There are two arrows with elaborate metal arrowheads which are glowing with magic.

Druid: a pair of yellow mushrooms, a piece of fir, and a purple amber hagstone.

Monk: a chakram made of blue metal, as well as a large, bladed weapon with fingerholes in order to be used in the same manner as a pair of knuckle-dusters.

Fighter: a round, viking-like shield painted orange with purple spirals. Behind is is a mace and large axe.

Barbarian: a bird skull with a dark beak. It has been attached to a line that has bear claws strung on it. Behind it is a drinking horn tipped with gold.

Rogue: a bottle of pink liquid beside a chain-scythe whose blade has been coated in what is presumably poison.

Artificer: a rifle, crossed behind a bottle full of an orange coloured, flammable liquid that has been fashioned into a molotov cocktail that has been lit on fire. The flames are teal.

Handy Haversack: a fuzzy coin purse which looks like a small creature with large eyes and many teeth. Its fur is yellow and it has a teal wrist strap.

Bag of Holding: a teal messenger bag. The closing flap has a pair of large teal eyes and a top set of teeth, instead of a clasp, it has a forked tongue. The body of the bag is also teal and has a lower set of teeth.

Single Message Stones: two die cut stickers of the same large spherical geode which has a face-like pattern. One is mustard yellow and purple, and the other is pink and pale yellow.

Message Stone Pair: a die cut sticker depicting a small spherical geodes which have face-like patterns on them. The top geode is orange, red, blue, and burgundy, The bottom geode is dark and light purple, blue, and teal. /EndID

#stickers #d&d #dungeons and dragons #ttrpg #shop small #storenvy #online shop #quicksilver's wares

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gerimi · 3 years

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Generals charcoal pencils have been my go-to figure drawing tool for years (2B-6B) however, they can be a little brittle at times even though I’m careful not to drop them. And occasionally when sharpening, I’ll hit a gummy area where the wood meets the charcoal. I’m not sure if this is the binding material or not, but cutting through it makes the wood split in an irregular way that also leads to more breakage.

Since I recently started a new round of figure drawing classes, I thought this would be a good time to test out a few different brands/materials.

Derwent Charcoal pencils (light, med, dark)

Derwent Venitian Red

Faber Castell Polychromos (black, indigo blue, burnt sienna)

Generals Primo (HB, B, 3B)

Faber Castell Pitt charcoal (soft)

Conté à Paris (assorted colors)

#drawing #art tools

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kiatheinsomniac · 4 years

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Huntress I

[ I ] [ II ]

(Y/n) stood before the tall, barred gates of the Doge's extravagant Venitian home. The marvellous building stood tall above the series of murky canals and was decorated with beautifully intricate architecture such as detailed carvings into ledges, windowsills and balcony doorframes. The cold iron of the gates wound and swirled together into a twisting design and was painted a shimmering gold at the top. It was nothing short of wonderous with its polished white walls and glimmering tall windows, each corner decorated by a staggered brick design. Even the gardens were splashed with colour from vibrant flowers and tidy orange trees - though, these bore few petals or fruits at this time of year. The shining sun only made the white mansion stand out even more, making the marble building glow almost in the autumn sunlight.

(Y/n) wore a large rimmed black hat on her head that shadowed her face and rested on her neatly braided hair. Her (h/l)-length (h/c) locks were tied back into two incredibly voluminous faux braids that could not seem to decide if they wanted to tumble along her back or rest on her shoulders. She wore a white blouse with a black corset that covered her stomach and was tucked under her breasts - this laced up at the front and had straps going over her shoulders. She wore black trousers that hugged her legs and tucked into worn-out leather boots that reached mid-calf. A thick grey cloak was wrapped securely around her to chase away the cold. She clutched a bag in each of her (s/t) hands. Various weapons were strapped to her: a sword at her hip, a dagger in a sheath on her thigh and a crossbow slung over her back with a black strap.

The two guards posted at the gates eyed her (and her weapons) warily, never having seen a woman dressed like this before.

"I'm here to investigate a murder by request of the Doge." She stated simply, placing down one of her bags and reaching into her pocket for a somewhat crumpled piece of paper, holding it out for the guard to take. Both humour and suspicion danced in the armoured man's brown eyes.

"He sent for a woman to investigate the murder of his niece?" The middle-aged guard scoffed in disbelief, not even bothering to examine the letter that the woman offered him as proof of her being invited. He simply brushed her off as a common thief with a lot of guts and a ridiculous story.

"He sent for a witch hunter." She put simply, tilting her chin up so that her (e/c) eyes were illuminated by the light and all the seriousness and impatience that they contained, simmering like a cauldron ready to boil over. She had heard the disdainful remarks too many times before in her unorthodox line of work, "And I have travelled a long way so unless you intend on paying my fare back to where I have come from and explaining to your master why I did not meet with him, I would suggest you take a look at this wax seal and allow me entry, signore." She spoke with a voice that was both sweet and venomous. The guard snatched the paper from her hands, outraged by the woman's determination and calm demeanour, examining the letter before huffing as he recognised the official seal of his employer. Upset that he had been wrong and now had to allow this stranger to triumph, he pushed the gate open, holding it while the confident woman briskly walked over the gravel garden path and to the door of the flamboyant marble manor, the stones crunching under her feet and mixing with the patrol of guards and a crowd somewhere in the distance a few streets down.

She lifted the door-knocker and let it heavily fall twice in a row before waiting patiently outside, albeit eager to sit by the warmth of a crackling amber fire after such a long and tiresome journey. A brunette maid opened the heavy wooden door and ushered the (h/c)-haired woman inside, having been told by the master of the house that a witch hunter would be coming to investigate the murder that had sent chills through all of Venice as word had quickly spread of the unusual condition in which the body was discovered during the late hours of the morning.

"Right this way, signorina." The meek maid spoke quietly. The soles of their shoes tapped against the polished checkered floor as they were led through the centre of the lavish home.

The mansion seemed to be built in a circuit-like fashion. It was square, tall and had a garden in the centre of it. (Y/n) tilted her head up to catch a glimpse at the sky seeing as the grey-tiled roof also followed this circuit pattern. It was a nice day for Autumn; fairly cold but sunny nonetheless. She lowered her head, now shadowed by her hat once more, and kept on following the olive-skinned servant as she led (Y/n) along the route that ended with the door of a study.

(Y/n) could hear faint sobbing and slowed her pace to peek into what looked like a living room. There was a married couple, nearing their fifties, dressed all in white - the colour of mourning. The woman had a veil over her face and held a handkerchief to her mouth as she sobbed. Her husband had a distant look in his eyes as he consoled her by rubbing her back with his hand as she watched the flames of the fire dance in the fireplace. (Y/n) concluded that these were the parents of the murder victim.

"The Doge is in there, signorina." The servant spoke, eyes lowered, before scurrying off. She was a youthful girl, very young, but clearly good at following orders and fulfilling her job.

(Y/n) raised her fist to knock on the door; the knock fit her aura: firm and authoritative.

"Enter!" A voice called from inside, it sounded tired and weary. (Y/n) used one hand to push open the door as the other held both of her bags at once. The Doge was a man nearing his elderly years. His hair was dappled with streaks of grey and he had wrinkles adorning his forehead and under his eyes which were shadowed by dark rings, born from lack of sleep. He examined her odd state of dress and numerous weapons then inferred who she must be.

"You are the witch hunter?" He spoke, rising from his seat to greet her.

"Indeed." She bowed her head to him before placing her bags down. "But allow us to get straight to business - you believe that your niece was killed by a vampire, no? That is what you described in your letter to me."

"Yes, almost all of Venice believes there is a vampire prowling its streets with the odd killings that seem to be occurring by night." He answered.

"I would like if you could gather the witnesses you spoke of - I'll need to question them. Where is the body being kept? I understand that my journey has kept me for some time." She spoke as she lifted both of her bags once more, ready to be led to the crime scene.

"Poor Elizabetta is being kept in the wine cellar - a horrific smell began to plague the house." He explained as he began to lead her downstairs.

"When I am done, you should bury the body - a corpse is terrible for the health of the living and, if not for the manner of her death and situation at hand, it would be very disrespectful to not have buried her by now." The hunter explained as they made their way down the winding steps that led to the cellar. As they made their way across a corridor, (Y/n) scrunched up her nose at the familiar stench of death, reaching into her pocket for a handkerchief to cover her nose and mouth with. The scent coiled like a serpent through the air, looking for its next victim from the shadows of the dimly lit cellar.

Candlelight from wall-mounted torches flickered across the walls, licking along the uneven edges of age-old cobbles that built up the narrow, low-ceilinged, winding staircase which led down into the basement. (Y/n) could feel it grow colder, unlike the mansion above which was heated by various fireplaces which the servants attended to.

Eventually, the staircase turned into a very short corridor with an old wooden door at the very end of it. It was made of old planks and had worn iron keeping it all together.

"I can't bear to see my little Eliza in that state, please." The Doge held open the door for (Y/n) who nodded her head in solemn understanding for his grievances.

As soon as she stepped inside, the smell was enough to make her feel as though she could vomit. It made her hold her breath for periods of time just to avoid having to take in the horrendous stench. There were barrels and bottles of wine in neat shelves on either side of the room but in the middle, right opposite the door, there was a table covered by a cloth with the shape of a body under the sheet of fabric.

(Y/n) pushed the cloth back to reveal a young woman. She may have been beautiful once but now her skin was deathly pale and rotting in areas. Her hair was tangled and she was utterly devoid of life - a decomposing shell of the rich young woman she had once been. Her eyes were closed out of respect and the inner corners swam with tiny maggots. (Y/n) was not unfamiliar with such grotesque sights but that did not mean that they did not make her feel utterly disgusted.

Wanting to leave the corpse as quickly as possible, she inspected the two puncture marks on her neck. She had seen these many times before - the distinct bite marks of what had been a vampire's meal. She used one hand to reach into her bag for a small vial, popping off the cork with her thumb before pressing it against one of the punctures. Thick blood, no longer red but a sickly, thick brown, oozed out like mud and into the tiny glass bottle. The fact that there was even blood remaining gave the Witch Hunter a better insight as to what had happened: either the vampire had killed someone else that night and only needed a little more fill from this particular victim or the creature was in a hurry. What would cause them to rush? Being discovered? They were too sly to worry about such a thing and, after a meal, would be fast enough to not even be seen by the human eye anyway. So, if they were in a rush: why?

Once she gathered all that she needed physically, she noted what the victim wore - a white chemise and nothing else. With all of that done, she re-covered the body with the sheet, grabbed her bags, and made her way outside again.

"Thank you, Doge. My apologies that my work has postponed her burial." The witch hunter spoke to convey the fact that she no longer needed to examine the body.

"She will be buried in the morning." He spoke in a flat tone, the tone of someone in immense emotional pain.

"May I ask a few questions as we walk?" She prompted.

"Whatever you need to capture the unholy beast that did this to my poor niece." He replied, "It is why I sent for you, after all."

"She was wearing only a chemise - does this mean that she was killed in her sleep?" (Y/n) quizzed as they made their way all the way back up the narrow, winding, stairwell.

"She had just come back from a ball - she was invited by a friend of hers. They say that she had been dancing with an unfamiliar man that evening and he offered to escort her home. Both of her friends (who I have here for you to question as witnesses) claim that they did not see the man as dangerous; they claim he was incredibly polite and charming and he seemed to truly care about whether or not Elizabetta got home safely." He began, "He must have escorted her home then come inside to kill her when she was changing - we found her wearing nothing at all and dressed her for the sake of dignity for your inspection." (Y/n) hummed thoughtfully.

"You are sure that she did not elope with the vampire?" She quizzed, one of her braids falling from her shoulder.

"Do not insult my Eliza that way!" The Doge spun around to look down at (Y/n) who was standing two steps lower than he was, "She was a pure girl!"

"And, as your witnesses have described, vampires can be very tempting, Doge." She spoke with a tone that showed he had to understand what he was saying despite what he believed about his niece, "She may have thought she was allowing him willingly when really, he was controlling her, leading her mind away so she would want to agree when, truly, she knew better." The Doge turned back around and continued on up the stairs once more.

"Say what you will, I will not believe that Elizabetta was involved in such an atrocious act." He grumbled as they both re-emerged at ground level. "Follow me, I shall lead you to Eliza's room where she was found then you may question her friends who were there the night it happened."

"Thank you," (Y/n) replied to show she had heard him. He led her up one of the staircases of the inner garden to take her to the upper floor which was a corridor and balcony looking down onto the garden with all the doors to the rooms in plain sight.

"This one is hers - aside from moving her body, nothing else has been tampered with as far as I am aware." He explained. Again, he stood outside and allowed (Y/n) to investigate without getting in her way.

What was most prominent in the room were three pieces of furniture: the large forest green canopy bed on the slight platform in the far-left corner, the large silver-backed mirror that rested on the vanity opposite it and the white carpet.

The carpet was an exception, however. The mirror and bed stuck out because they were such expensive and lavish pieces of the room. This carpet stood out because it was stained the light brown of dried blood in the middle.

(Y/n) looked around the room some more. Behind the door was a big black banner bearing a crimson cross. It seemed familiar and she took a few seconds to think it over. The same banners had been present in the Doge's study on either side above his large desk. A family symbol perhaps? A political one? She did not know.

(Y/n) examined the bloodstain on the floor as her first piece of evidence. It was dried and it only made her wish that she had been able to travel to Venice much sooner, perhaps she would be able to be closer on this vampire's trail.

There was a terrible aura in the air, one of despair and hopelessness that seemed to linger. Was it simply the destruction that had been left by the vampire? Or perhaps it was the victim's ghost lingering? (Y/n) glanced around the room: she could neither see nor sense a ghost.

She got up to open the window, intending for the wind to cleanse the terrible energy that still lingered from the supernatural murder. She popped the latch and pushed the glass open only to spot bloody fingerprints on the window.

"Doge?" She called, turning back to face where he waited just outside the door.

"Yes?"

"Did you find the window open at the same time the body was discovered?" The Doge entered the room and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"I cannot say — it was her friends who got here first, perhaps they can tell you?" (Y/n) cast another glance around the room.

"I believe it's time I began my interrogation."

#ac #assassins creed #assassins creed II #ezio auditore da firenze #ezio auditore #young ezio auditore #ezio auditore da firenze x reader #ezio auditore da firenze/reader #ezio auditore x reader #ezio auditore/reader #au #vampire au #vampire #huntress

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chiaroscurojournals · 4 years

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Bianca looked at the gowns displayed on her bed, figuring out which one suited her better. Clearly, the exact opposite of what her family had in mind. At times, she felt like burning these gowns, with their purpose and the misery they brought. Picking up, her goblet, Bianca took a sip of the red wine and decided to refresh her look. Starring at her face in the mirror brought forth a slew of decission she had made over the past months and years. She kept combing her hair and changing some of a the jewels she had first selected. The room was suffocating her and as soon as Bianca deemed herself perfect in the eyes of men and God, she made her way outside, exchange à few pleasantries with those already gathered in her house and retired for a few precious moments in the garden.

Finding out a recluse spot, Bianca took a seat in the marble carved bench and pulled a small book she had taken from the room. Poems written by a new Venitian prodige. Some felt written on command with little heart and dept. Others made her smile or brought her to tears.

Bianca kept reading until she felt the small lights of the candles diminishes and familiar presence made her face light up with a smile.

"Amadeo, Mio Dio, I missed your company dearly. Come, take a seat beside me" Bianca spoke, moving a bit and offer a seat to her dear Deo.

@the-vampire-amadeo

#bianca #amadeo #Venice years #VC au

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reapers-carino · 4 years

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Ife Mi

“Wow...que bonito. But god that took forever”

“What the--”

“You should be careful with where you point that thing.”

You barely bit back a snarl as you twisted to see just where in the hell the voice was coming from, confusion wrinkling your brow. It felt like she was mocking you, playing

“Hey calm down, I’m a friend.”

“There you go…”

A woman glimmered to life in front of you; long, dark hair dyed and side shaven, warm brown skin accented by varying shades of purple, blue and indigo. The mischievous smirk that creased her lips gave you pause before she extended her hand to you, long nails--no gloves, perhaps both--gently scratching the back of your hand as you shook her’s.

“You can call me Sombra. So...you going to go pack? We don’t have all day.”

“Aw don’t look so shy”, she teased, the lilt of a barely contained chuckle in her voice. “It has been a while. Maybe you can help the big guy unwind.”

You could feel the flush climb up your cheeks and down into your chest but you refused to cow to this joker of a girl.

Brow furrowing, you weren’t exactly sure you followed, but if Akande had entrusted your trip to this woman...then you would trust him.

“There we go...okay, keep your head low and let’s go.”

“Oh god you guys have the same expressions”, she snorted, her nose wrinkling up as genuine laughter bubbled from her lips. “Pobrecito...I promise it’s a short ride and then you’ll get to be in your big, strong Alpha’s arms.”

“Welcome to Talon HQ”, Sombra said as both your feet finally touched solid ground, you actually squeezing both of her hands in appreciation.

Your lungs began to burn as they demanded air from you, pulling you reluctantly from the kiss, your eyes peering open as you breathed against his lips.

“Gods I have missed you”, you breathed out, pressing a quick brief kiss to his lips before you heard exaggerated gagging from behind you.

“The suggestion is not a bad one De”, you murmured near his ear, pulling back with a shrug of your shoulder and a suggestive smile on your lips.

“What a gentleman”, Sombra teased with a half snort before beginning to take the lead, walking towards the set of buildings that you had completely missed.

“Let’s go.”

“Hold it”, she said, Akande stopping you from pushing forwards, eyes looking at the both of them in confusion.

Sombra pressed her hand to the wall next to the door frame, hand briefly glowing purple before a holo-screen appearing against the surface before an electronic voice requested biometrics.

“Welcome, please look or press hand onto the holo-pad.”

“There we go”, she said with a small smile before motioning at you, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Gotta add you into the system so the lasers don’t melt you.”

“Lasers”, you questioned as you took a half step foward, Akande’s hand still on your back, and pressing your left hand into the pad.

“Please Alpha…I need you…”

“Please…”

“Not yet beloved”, he sighed softly against your lips, shaking his head and pulling back once more.

“O-Oh…”

“Ìfẹ́ mi…how I have missed you.”

“Akande”, you sobbed, your voice thick with emotion as tears rolled down your cheeks, a low and needy keen for the man humming in your chest.

#doomfist #overwatch doomfist #doomfist x reader #Alpha!Doomfist #Alpha! Doomfist #alpha x omega #a/b/o #A/B/O dynamic #overwatch fluff #fluffy #overwatch fanfic #abo rut #marking

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