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natimiles · 15 days

Note

OMG NATI I JUST SAW UR EVENT!!! congrats :D u deserve these and so many more!! If I may, can I request william (ikevil) + kissing the tip of the nose?

OMG INKY, HIII! Thaaank yoouuu! You’re so sweet 😭🤧

I might’ve used the fact I know that you love pet names against you (again), ASHUEHSAEIA.

William + Tip of the nose

Words: 411

Tags: established relationship; pet names; no pronouns for reader.

Sitting on the bed, William leans against the headboard, quietly reading while you finish your work. However, he quickly finds his attention drawn to you, his book forgotten on his lap.

His crimson eyes are fixed on you, intently observing every little thing his darling little robin does. He notices how you type faster now than when you first came to Crown, how you bite your lip in concentration, how you mumble when you want to find the perfect word to write down, and how your eyes shine when you find it.

He sees you organizing the pages, which means you’re done and will turn around to look at him. He keeps watching you, wanting to see the endearing reaction you’ll let out when you realize his eyes have been on you for a long time.

When you finish everything, you turn around in your chair, expecting to see William reading or even sleeping, given how quiet he’s been for the last few minutes. What a surprise when you see him looking right at you.

“Oh, hey!” you can’t help but let out a surprised sound, blinking in confusion. Then you open a shy smile, your head tilting to the side. “How long have you been staring?”

“Hmm… I wonder,” he grins, amused. “If you’re done, come here with me, my love.”

“I am!” you reply excitedly.

William doesn’t have much time to close his book and place it on the nightstand because you practically race to him. You throw yourself on him, and he holds you tight while falling sideways with you in his arms. Your giggles are music to his ears, and he joins in with his own.

You suddenly lean forward and place a kiss on the tip of his nose, and he’s the one caught by surprise this time. He is more than amused by your display of affection, though.

“My, my! What an enthusiastic little robin I have,” he smiles widely.

“I’m happy to be here with you.”

He brings his hand to your hair, brushing it out of your face to take a better look at you. His fingers slide back to your nape, and he holds you in place, so this time he can be the one giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose. His heart is full of fondness and love for you — he wonders if you know how you have him wrapped around your finger.

“Me too, my love.”

Beneath The Milky Twilight ♥ Event Masterlist

#beneath the milky twilight event #💌 inky #ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil william #ikevil william rex #ikevil writings #ikevil fanfics #ikevil scenarios #ikemen villains william #ikevil x reader #ikemen villains x reader #ikevil will #ikemen villains will

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tothepointofinsanity · 28 days

Note

BreadAVOTA PMMM crossover when.

I know this is your very subtle nudge to get me to draw Bon and Mami. 🤨. All Witches are Marginals btw.

#media becoming displeased when another inky water thing [sayaka] appears out of nowhere #ASKS 💌#letters from the dollmaker

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deedis · 1 year

Note

happy birthday inky

HES SEVEN YEARS OLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🎉🎉🎊🎈🎊🎁🎁🎁🎊🎉

#💌#inky tag #jaymer

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whatsnewalycat · 1 year

Text

Secret Admirer

Javier Peña x f!Reader - Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: It's Valentine's Day. Which means it's time to take a chance on your workplace crush, Agent Javier Peña.

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: Season 1 (ish), US Embassy, yearning, secret admirer, confrontation, drinking and smoking (real brief), smut, protected PIV sex, dash of angst and fluff

A/N: Yeeehaw, this was written for a valentines day exchange SOOOO Happy Valentine's Day to @typingcorgi 💌 This one is for you, I hope you like it!!!

The papers cradled in your arm dig into the sticky crease of your elbow. Your fingertips part the thick stack of faxes and run along the crisp edge of an envelope hidden inside. A bass drum starts thudding in your chest and heat creeps up your neck.

One last peek over your shoulder at the empty, sterile mailroom gives you permission to do it. You slip the red envelope out from its hiding place and shove it into the cubby labeled JAVIER PEÑA.

The shuffle of approaching footsteps sends your heart into an outright sprint.

You scurry over to the fax machine and pinch the paperclip from the first fax, then slide the papers into the tray. As you punch the outgoing fax number into the machine, the footfalls grow closer, and soon start thudding against the shiny white linoleum of the mailroom.

The low rumble of conversation between two men grows more distinct. You recognize their voices, but keep your eyes glued to the papers being sucked through the gears of the fax machine.

“We’re gonna get a bottle of wine, candlelit dinner, put on some Marvin Gaye to set the mood,” Steve Murphy says, “Should probably get some flowers for her or somethin’, huh?”

Javier Peña hums in response.

They make their way over to the mailboxes. You stand there and try to blend into your surroundings as you wait for a fax receipt. The sound of them sorting the contents of their mail makes your stomach churn.

“What’s that?” Steve asks as they start to walk away.

“Let’s see,” Javier murmurs, then his footsteps come to a halt as he opens the envelope and he hums with curiosity.

Steve stops, too, then chuckles, “Is that a fucking valentine?”

“Looks like it,” Javier mumbles, then directs his voice at you and says your name.

You stop breathing and clench your eyes shut, then open them and turn around, trying your best to keep your face neutral, “What?”

He holds up the unsealed red envelope and its folded up white contents between two fingers, “Did you see who left this?”

You meet his dark brown eyes for a few devastating moments before dropping your gaze to the stack of faxes in your white-knuckle grip. All the moisture from your mouth evaporates. You clear your throat and shake your head, “No, sorry. I just got here.”

“A secret admirer?” Murphy’s lips curl into an amused grin and he raises an eyebrow at Javier.

You take another quick glance at the duo and realize Javier is narrowing his eyes at you, jaw working back and forth in subtle movements. Your skin burns and twists under his examination.

He breaks his laser focus and looks to Steve with a shrug, “Guess so.”

The fax machine roars to life behind you and starts printing. You spin on your heel towards the noise, and the men start off the way they came. Your hands are shaking when you go to grab the confirmation.

—

The clack clack clack of your typewriter ricochets through the empty halls of the United States Embassy. Although you can’t see it from your desk, you know the sun outside is sinking below the horizon and giving way to the inky black of nighttime.

Without Ambassador Noonan there to pull you into meetings for transcription, or assign you urgent outgoing faxes, or ask you to run any other number of errands she deems important, you’re able to perform the more “menial” of your clerical work. You sift through the stacks of papers at the corner of your desk, each one containing hurried handwriting scrawled by Noonan or one of her many Agents, trying to decipher their contents and transfer them into a more legible print.

Footsteps sound from down the hall, but you’re too busy squinting at a puzzling clusterfuck of scribbles to pay it any mind. It’s not until your desk creaks under the weight of Javier leaning back against it that you notice he’s there.

With a jump, you clutch your blouse over your pounding heart and gasp, “Jesus fu—Hi, Agent Peña.”��

He comes to rest just inches away from your chair, arms crossed over his chest as he frowns down at you. Dangling between two of his knuckles is the red envelope you left in his mailbox earlier. Adrenaline pumps thick and hot through your veins.

Your hands feel numb as you meet his gaze and manage to ask, “Can I help you with something?”

His jaw cocks to the side and he raises an eyebrow at you, then tosses the red envelope onto your desk, “What’s this?”

“I—I—” you shake your head and widen your eyes, glancing between him and the letter.

“Don’t play dumb,” he interjects.

You swallow hard and hold your eyes steady on his as they bore into you. It’s a standoff. You don’t even dare to breathe. The silence is deafening.

Javier breaks it as he clears his throat and picks the creamy white paper up off your desk, then unfolds it. Your stomach drops to the floor.

He reads it aloud in a gravelly purr:

“Oh, how I long to devour you. To unhinge my jaw And swallow you whole. Do you feel it too? Do you ache with hunger when I’m near? When I meet your starving eyes, I know.”

Your eyes stay trained on his as he peers over the paper at you like he expects you to say something. But you don’t. Your skin buzzes electric when he rolls his tongue against his pouty lips, along the edge of his dark mustache, then drags his gaze down the length of you.

Javier sets the paper back onto your desk, taking a look around before he leans in and murmurs, “I do. I know.”

Then he digs into the pocket of his tan suit pocket and takes out a folded slip of paper. He pulls it away just as you go to reach for it. When your fingers curl back and you blink up at him in question, he searches your face, “This stays between us, ok?”

“Of course,” you nod.

His throat rumbles, eyes flick down to your lips for a moment, then he extends the paper to you again. This time when you go to take it, he lets it slide out from between his fingers into yours.

“Come by when you’re done here,” he says, more of a demand than a request.

“I will,” you try to suppress the grin stretching across your lips.

Javier taps two fingers against your desk, then pushes off it and saunters back down the hallway, giving you a quick backwards glance before turning the corner.

You look around to make sure no one is watching, then unfold the note, revealing an address written in his angular, messy script. Below this, it reads:

Starved.

—

Your knuckles rap two quick knocks against the door before Javier swings it open. His darkened gaze slides down your body like molasses as he steps back and lets you enter the apartment. The scent of his cologne wafts into your nose as you pass him. It’s light and crisp, clean smelling, contrasting his whiskey breath.

You slide out of your heels and set your purse onto the ground, then study the dwelling with curiosity, dropping down two steps into the living room on your way to a leather couch. The walls are painted a cream color, pastel green and pink spliced here and there. It doesn’t seem to represent Javier at all. You figure the apartment was furnished by the Embassy, like yours. Cigarette smoke hangs in the air like a dense fog. It’s tediously quiet.

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks, striding over to a stand-alone dry bar, which hosts a variety of amber colored liquors.

“Sure,” you answer as you sit down on the couch, smoothing out the black dress you changed into before walking over here.

Javier doesn’t ask what you want to drink. He just pours two glasses of whiskey and hands one to you while he lowers himself onto the other end of the loveseat.

Which, it’s a loveseat, so he’s still intimidatingly close.

“Thanks,” you mumble, then swallow a mouthful of the alcohol, wincing at the burn as it travels down your throat.

It’s not until now you realize you’ve never been alone with him. You’ve only experienced his intensity from afar. The way his eyes linger on you, seeming to study you when he thinks you won’t notice.

But you’ve noticed.

And you like it.

You’ve been careful to only leave hints of your wanting. Flicking your gaze to his when you feel it on your skin. Holding it there until your heart starts pounding and one of you looks away. Letting your body brush against him in passing. No words spoken, only heated eye contact and near-touching. Following an acute awareness of the way you’re drawn to him, how fervently your blood courses through your veins when he’s near, how his presence seems to tug at the edges of you.

“Did you write that yourself?” he inquires now. You take another sip and look up at him, meeting his eyes.

It’s unbearable. Yet, you don’t want it to stop. Like magnets are buried beneath your skin and his, opposite poles, aching to meet in equilibrium.

“I did,” you admit quietly, then tilt your head at him with curiosity, “Did you like it?”

He hums and nods, glancing down at your mouth, “I’ve been watching you. I see the way you look at me.”

“I know,” you respond in a whisper. The confession sends your heart racing… but you feel emboldened. You tip the glass to your lips and let the remaining whiskey slide down your throat, then lean forward to set the empty cup on his coffee table and scoot closer to him as you settle back into the couch.

Javier sits up to place his drink on the table, and when he returns, he’s only inches away. He brings his breath to your ear and murmurs, “You like it, don’t you? The attention?”

“Yes,” you answer. His hand rests on your knee, a branding iron that heats your core and steals the air from your lungs.

“Teasing me with those short skirts,” he travels up your thigh, letting his rough palm drag along your skin. The touch sends a shock wave of pleasure across your body.

You whimper and your eyes flutter shut.

His voice lowers to a rasp, “Staring at me with those fuck-me-eyes. You think I wouldn’t know it was you?”

He stops at the crease of your thigh and grips the tender flesh, pulling a wanton moan from your throat as your head falls back against the couch.

“Look at me,” he demands, so your eyes blink open and you meet his heated, meticulous gaze, “Do you want this?”

“I want this,” you nod, bringing a hand to his cheek, working your thumb against the grain of his stubble. He studies your face, dropping his eyes to your mouth, kneading your thigh, drawing closer.

You succumb to his beckoning lips, capturing them in a kiss. Fire sparks in your chest and spreads through your veins like wildfire, spreading to him as your tongues meet, rolling soft and wet, whiskey harsh on your shared breath.

Then he’s on you all at once.

Pushing your back flush to the couch cushions, rocking his hand against the seam of your panties, sliding the thin straps of your dress off your shoulders, liquefying your insides into molten need. He rids you of the red lace thong, tossing it on the floor while your trembling fingers unfasten the buttons of his shirt. You splay your fingers across his chest and slip the shirt off his shoulders. It joins your abandoned lingerie, followed by your dress, then his pants.

Javier pauses to study your naked body, lust-blown eyes trailing along every inch of your exposed skin, hands dragging up your legs. You examine him, too. His smooth, bronzed skin. His broad shoulders. His lean frame. His swollen, needy cock.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” you breathe, reaching out to him, rolling your hips against nothing, aching with lust.

Your compliment pulls a rumble from his throat, then he returns to your body, to your lips. His warmth sends shockwaves down your spine. You arch your back into the sensation, drinking up every ounce of heat your thirsty skin can lap up.

When he touches the slick pool between the legs, spreading your arousal up and down your slit, you both moan into the other’s mouth, and he pants, “So fucking wet.”

You slide your hands around his shoulders, whimpering, nodding, reveling in the exquisite heat stoked at your center, urging him to continue with a breathy moan, “Don’t stop—fuck, that’s so good—”

He groans and captures your lips in his, kissing you hard, messy, working you faster, and the flames licking your insides continue to grow hotter, breaking you out into a sweat, making you gasp and moan against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut and it’s just this aching, heated bliss building at the base of your spine, and your pleas for him not to stop, and his skin on yours, his mouth planting wet kisses down your jaw, your neck, his moans of secondhand pleasure vibrating down your middle, fueling this brilliant concentrated ball of fire burning a hole inside you until you reach the edge of something and push past it.

Ecstasy washes over your body and steals the air from your lungs. You release a shattered breath and start to free fall, but his touch doesn’t relent, and your body shakes with pleasure that’s too intense to bear, legs clamping shut around his arm as you start to whimper at the stimulation.

Javier pulls back when your legs go jelly, his chest heaving, eyes wild and black and glued to yours. His pink tongue rolls against his lips, then they pout out into an O when he drags his fingers through your release. Your hips jerk at the jolt of his touch, heavy eyelids fluttering as you moan, and he smirks, “Wanna move this to the bedroom?”

You bite down on the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip as your gaze drops to his engorged length, and you manage to respond, “Uh-huh.”

He stands and starts towards his bedroom. You follow him on wobbly legs, head swimming, ears buzzing.

Just like the common areas of his apartment, his room is decorated tastefully and obviously courtesy of the Embassy. It’s surprisingly neat, though, the dark walnut chest of drawers cleared of clutter and personal effects, hardwood floor unencumbered by piles of dirty laundry, dark walnut four-post bed dressed with white linens. Based on the constant state of disarray his desk is in, you expected it to be messier, and wonder if he cleaned up for you.

Javier strides over to a side table and pulls a condom out of its drawer. While he wraps himself up, you settle at the edge of his bed, legs dangling off the side as your eyes trail down his shoulders, his arms, the defined muscles of his back, swallowing hard when he turns to face you.

He takes the two short steps to settle his hips between your knees and hums, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting your head up towards him as he presses his forehead to yours and purrs, “Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Hmm? For me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, linking your hands at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, feeling his breath puff hot against your mouth, grip on your chin tightening.

His lips find yours and he kisses you slowly, deliberately, with a tender sort of reverence that tightens around your skin and makes you whimper. The noise spurs something inside him. He cups your cheeks and picks up speed, climbing onto the bed, pushing you onto your back.

It completely consumes you, the way his mouth works against yours, the way you writhe against each other, touch roaming, both of you tugging and rubbing and digging your fingers in and moaning at the fire blazing between your sweaty bodies.

When the head of his cock nudges against your entrance, you wrap your legs around his back and arch against him, panting, “Fuck yes, give it to me.”

He stares down at you, holding your gaze as he plunges forward, working you open, and both your faces contort with pleasure.

“Fuuuck,” he groans as he starts to rut into you at a steady pace. Every single nerve ending he rubs against buzzes with ecstasy.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you pull him closer, pressing your lips to his, immersing yourself in a series of messy, frantic kisses, swallowing each other's moans, working your bodies in tandem to fuel the hungry flames. You start to roll your hips against his thrusts, each one accumulating hot and gooey and tingling, tugging at the edges of you as you whimper, “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

“That’s it, baby,” Javier pants, his voice jumping in time with his hips as he drives into you, “So fucking good—feel so fucking good—”

He kisses you then, and his eager lips, his soft tongue, the scent of whiskey on his breath, the burn of his mustache scratching your skin, the blissful ache of him stretching you again and again, it fully engulfs your body, like you’re melting together, the heat between you too great, the fire too intense to remain whole because this glowing molten core is growing wider and hotter with each moan, each touch, each thrust, and you beg Javier not to stop, fuck, don’t fucking stop, and he steals the words from your mouth with his own, fucking you hard and fast just like you knew he would, pushing you closer and closer to bliss, and then you reach it.

For one second, you’re suspended right at the edge, mind blank, body humming. Then it hits you, and it hits you fucking hard, euphoria breaking you into pieces and tearing a sob from your throat. Javier’s hips stutter as your muscles tense and your pussy convulses around him. He gasps against your mouth, then shudders as he finds his release. Both of your bodies slow their pace, cooling to a crawl, then a stop.

The sound of your labored breaths fills the bedroom, heaving chests working against each other as sanity starts to return and your bodies struggle to recover. He rolls off of you and stretches out across his bed, inhaling deep and wide, exhaling a content hum.

Then, without a word, he gets up and leaves the room.

Your guts twist into a knot. It should give you whiplash, how fast you go from total satisfaction to nervous wreck.

Since moving to Colombia for this job, sex has been a rare occurrence for you. And by that, you mean… it doesn’t happen. Even before the move, a series of long-term relationships have been your only claim to sexual experience. So this situation is uncharted territory.

But you’re pretty sure this is your cue to get the fuck out.

While staring at the ceiling, you kick yourself for giving him the note, for putting yourself in this position. Shame simmers hot under your skin when you try to imagine what it’ll be like the next time you see Javier at work. When you’ll both know what happened here tonight, but pretend it was nothing.

Why do you have to feel this burning desire for someone like him? For someone so intimidating and closed off? And, more perplexing still, does he feel it for you?

Your chest and throat tighten when it dawns on you that he probably doesn’t feel the same as you. Maybe he saw an opportunity to get laid and took it. Maybe… it was nothing to him.

You sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed, peering out the bedroom door a moment before hopping down and padding across the hardwood floor into the living room.

He’s doing something in the kitchen, so you fold your arms in front of your body and make your way over to the couch, snatching your clothes off the ground before you sit and start to get dressed.

As you pull your dress down over your head, he returns to the living room. He’s wearing jeans now, but remains shirtless, and a lit cigarette dangles from his lips.

You glance up at him and mutter, “Sorry, I can get out of your hair. Thank you for, um… indulging me.”

He plops down next to you and crushes the burning ember of his cigarette into a glass ashtray on the coffee table, then leans back and extends his arm along the couch behind you, frowning, “You’re leaving?”

“I—I guess, right?” you turn and search his face, meeting his eyes that are all puppy dog soft. They tug at your heartstrings, but you continue to stammer onward, “That’s—I don’t know, that’s what I’m supposed to do, right?”

“If that’s what you want,” he shrugs, dropping his gaze to your lips.

While you stare at him and try to understand what the fuck that means, he leans close, brushing his hand against your cheek, “Or, you could stay… we can ‘indulge’ ourselves again.”

“Is that what you want?” you ask in an attempt to parse out his intentions.

“Is that what you want?” he counters in a low voice, furrowing his brow.

You bite down on your bottom lip and nod, then blink and shrug, “I mean, if that’s what you—”

His lips cut you off before you can embarrass yourself more.

—

You woke up with the sun. Javier was still holding you close, his shallow, dream-drenched breath spreading across the nape of your neck in soft puffs. You wriggled out of bed and collected your things, then walked the city block to your apartment and got ready for work.

The day passes by like any other, with the exception of your strained muscles making every movement more difficult. You don’t cross paths with Javier, but when you return to your desk after lunch, there’s a red envelope sticking out of your typewriter.

You take a cursory glance around, then pluck it out and open it. A smile spreads across your face when you read the note inside.

Roses are red Violets are blue Come over tonight I want to see you XO, Your Secret Admirer

#javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña #javier pena #javier peña smut #javier peña fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #whatsnewalycat writes

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tinytinyblogs · 3 months

Text

Stray Kids Mafia Series: Changbin

Once he sets his gaze upon you, he vows to return for you.

(mafia theme, non-idol au)

💌I might update it when I remember; switching from one thing to another almost made me forget about this Tumblr, but I'll still ensure to listen to any of your requests or stories.

Stray kids masterlist here

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Beneath the icy caress of the night wind, the world shivered. Darkness draped itself like a shroud over the forgotten alleyway, where Changbin sat hunched, a wounded warrior adrift in a sea of pain. His battle-scarred flesh, an intricate tapestry of crimson and bone, mirrored the brutal symphony that echoed in his aching limbs. Even a whisper of movement seemed an insurmountable ordeal, each tortured groan an echo in the oppressive silence. The quiet city hummed faintly in the distance, a distant serenade against the oppressive stillness that swallowed the alley whole. But then, the silence fractured. A presence materialized beside him, a shadow coalescing into form and settling onto the unforgiving stone. Changbin's weary eyes, heavy with the weight of pain and exhaustion, cracked open just a touch. He met your gaze, a mix of concern and an enigmatic curiosity swirling within its depths. Your voice, a quiet melody in the harsh nocturne, cut through the silence. "I won't offer you this ice cream because based on your condition, you're on your deathbed." you stated, the gentleness of your words belying the firm conviction in your tone. The air thickened with unspoken questions. Who were you, a ghost conjured by the delirium of his wounds, or a savior emerging from the inky night? Your mere presence was a spark, a flicker of warmth in the desolate expanse of his pain. And though his body thrummed with the chilling whispers of defeat, Changbin found himself inexplicably drawn to the enigma before him, to the promise of answers hidden within your shadowed eyes.

The air buzzed with unspoken tension as your words hung heavy in the alleyway's stagnant air. "So, no ice cream for you, then," you reiterated, your voice unwavering despite the chaos that still resonated from Changbin's fight. He stared at you, his brows furrowed in a confused frown. Your presence, here in this desolate purgatory, amidst the smoldering embers of his brutal encounter, was as incongruous as a hummingbird in a hurricane. "You shouldn't be here," he rasped, his voice a strained whisper through the grit of his teeth. He understood the danger, the razor-thin edge on which he teetered, and your presence, somehow, magnified it. You, however, simply nodded, acknowledging the unspoken truth of his statement. That calm veneer you wore, so at odds with the icy night and the still-fresh echoes of violence, only heightened his bewilderment. "I figured," you remarked, taking another deliberate bite of your ice cream. The incongruity of the action – the sweet, milky taste against the backdrop of raw grit and danger – sent shivers down Changbin's spine. It was as if you were relishing the very dissonance of the scene, the cold treat a perverse counterpoint to the heat of his wounds. "The way you fought back there," you continued, your gaze unwavering, "it was like something ripped straight out of an action movie." Your admission lingered in the air, a heavy weight settling on his battered chest. Your presence, the evidence of your witness to his desperate struggle, was a thorn in his side.

You shouldn't be here, a silent observer in the shadows of his clandestine world. You should have faded away, a fleeting apparition lost in the night, yet here you sat, your cool demeanor and icy treat only amplifying the surrealness of the moment. The mafia's brutal dance had concluded, curtains drawn on their bloody ballet, yet you remained, an anomaly in the aftermath, and Changbin couldn't help but wonder – who were you, and what game were you playing in this unforgiving alleyway? "Leaving you here to bleed out," you countered, your voice calm yet firm, "wasn't exactly on my itinerary tonight." Your words, simple yet resolute, defied the logic of the situation. Stepping into this murky underworld, negotiating with shadows and secrets, was far from your preferred terrain. Yet, the sight of him – a warrior carved from stone, now brought low by invisible blades – had ignited a dormant ember of empathy within you. Ignoring him, letting him slip into the oblivion of shadows, was a fate you couldn't bear to witness. "If your man doesn't show up in a few minutes, I'll have to drag your hulking frame to the hospital myself." Changbin's voice, rasping through cracked lips, was a gravelly whisper in the echoing symphony of the city's distant hum. His words, "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into," hung heavy in the air, a grim foreboding that settled on the frigid night like a shroud of ash. It was more than a warning; it was a lament, a resignation sung by a man who knew the darkness all too well and saw you, a moth drawn to his flickering flame, teetering on the precipice of his perilous world.

You turned, meeting his gaze head-on. His features, etched with the stark lines of past battles, remained an enigma, a carefully crafted mask that shielded his true intentions. You felt a shiver dance down your spine, like the first brush of icy wind against bare skin. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice steady despite the thrumming pulse of adrenaline in your veins. "Who you are, I mean. But judging by the symphony of bruises adorning you and the echoes of that brawl still hanging in the air, 'normal person' wouldn't exactly be the apt title for your biography." Your words hung in the air, a spark of defiance challenging the unspoken threat simmering in his shadowed eyes. You pressed on, the image of him fighting like a cornered beast still fresh in your mind. "But," you continued, your voice softening, "at least you should acknowledge the fact that in this city of indifference, I choose to care. I chose to stay, not turn a blind eye to a wounded warrior bleeding in the dark." A flicker of something, maybe surprise, maybe grudging respect, crossed his face as you spoke. He shifted, wincing as pain lanced through his battered body. A low growl escaped his lips, laced with a raw edge that sent another shiver skittering across your skin. "I could kill you, you know," he rasped, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "Right here, right now." His words were a blunt warning, a testament to the life he navigated, a world where violence was a currency traded on the dark corners of the night. You met his gaze unflinchingly, choosing honesty as your shield. "Sure," you retorted, a surprising calmness washing over you. "Kill me after you catch your breath, though. You look like you're about to drop dead on your own right now."

Changbin squinted in the dim, lamplight casting shadows that danced across your face. Despite the grime and the raw edge of danger hanging heavy in the air, you held yourself with a cool audacity that intrigued him. Your sharp wit, a flickering spark in the darkness, ignited a begrudging smile on his lips. It felt strange, almost wrong, to find himself enjoying your company amidst the throbbing pain in his body and the cold bite of the night. Yet, you were a welcome distraction, a melody playing against the harsh symphony of his reality. The sound of an approaching car shattered the fragile peace. Changbin's instincts, honed by years of navigating the shadows, jolted awake. He reacted with the speed of a striking viper, pulling you into the deeper darkness of the alleyway. You found yourselves huddled together, the night an inky cloak shielding you from unseen eyes. His senses on high alert, Changbin scanned the surroundings, his jaw clenched tight. "So much for killing me," you whispered, your voice a soft echo in the charged silence. "Why protect me now?" The question, laced with a hint of amusement, pierced through the tension. You felt the heat of his glare even in the darkness, a silent warning to remain quiet. His hiss, "Shut up," was clipped, rough around the edges, but beneath it, you sensed a flicker of something else – concern, perhaps, or a begrudging respect for your audacity.

Changbin's body coiled like a striking serpent, taut with tension at the approaching headlights. But as the silhouettes of his men materialized from the car, his muscles slowly unfurled, a grudging acceptance settling over him. He didn't release your hand, though. It remained clasped in his, a surprising warmth amidst the cold steel of his resolve. Emerging from the alleyway, he moved with quiet confidence, a stark contrast to the raw violence that had just played out. His presence exuded a steely aura, even amidst the bruises and torn flesh painting his body. He gestured towards his men with a curt nod, guiding you with his gaze, the unspoken promise of protection hanging heavy in the air. Standing before you, battered but unbowed, Changbin couldn't deny the strange allure that had woven itself around you. Your presence, like a stray ember glowing in the desolate wasteland of his world, had kindled something within him. A flicker of curiosity, a spark of fascination – emotions he'd never acknowledged before. You were a puzzle piece he couldn't quite place, a discordant note in the harsh symphony of his life, yet he found himself drawn to the dissonance, the intriguing melody you played just beneath the surface. The night wind whipped around you, whispering secrets Changbin couldn't decipher. His men moved swiftly, shadows engulfing them once more. He watched them go, his grip on your hand tightening for a fleeting moment before reluctantly releasing it. As they dissolved into the darkness, Changbin met your gaze once more, a silent question lingering in his eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Your question, echoing against the grimy walls of the alleyway, hung in the air like a misplaced melody. Its innocence, stark against the backdrop of your recent audacity, painted a confusing portrait in Changbin's mind. Was it naivety, sheer obliviousness to the danger you'd waded into, or something else entirely? A calculated defiance, a spark of rebellion hidden beneath those luminous eyes? He started to explain "I told you," the words heavy on his tongue like leaden weights. "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into," he began, his voice a low rumble in the night. But then, the streetlight bathed you in its pale luminescence, and for the first time, he saw you clearly. The moonlight, like a sculptor's chisel, revealed the delicate lines of your face, the soft arc of your lips, the firefly glint in your eyes. And for a moment, the chaos, the pain, the weight of his world, everything faded away. He found himself…enjoying the view. Your arrival, a whirlwind of action and defiance, had ripped through the carefully constructed walls of his existence. You were a glitch in the matrix, a discordant note in the grim symphony of his life, and he couldn't ignore the dissonance it awakened within him. The words he spoke, echoing in the stillness, carried a double meaning. You'd stepped into his world, uninvited yet undeniable, and with that came an unspoken understanding, a pact forged in the crucible of the night.

His life, a labyrinth of shadows and secrets, had always operated on one principle: take what you want. And what he wanted, at that moment, was to understand you, to unravel the enigma you presented. You had dared to defy him, to offer him kindness amidst the carnage, and that act, that flicker of humanity in the darkness, had ignited a curiosity he couldn't suppress. It was a dangerous path, fraught with uncertainty, but the allure of the unknown, of this unexpected connection, was a siren song he couldn't resist. The moon, a silent witness to this dance of attraction and danger, bathed the alleyway in its silver glow. The air crackled with unspoken electricity, a battle of wills played out in the quiet space between them. And as Changbin met your gaze, his own emotions mirroring the turmoil within, he knew one thing for certain: this was just the beginning, the opening act in a drama more unpredictable than any he'd ever known. Changbin's voice, roughened by the night and the echoes of the recent struggle, dipped low as he spoke. "See you soon, pretty," he murmured, the husky endearment a stark contrast to the grim setting. His words, laced with a veiled promise, hung heavy in the air, a tangible weight settling between you. "Get yourself ready to keep seeing me," he added, his eyes glinting with an unyielding determination. "I wouldn't let someone like you go away from my sight easily." The last line, delivered with a quiet confidence, was more than just a statement; it was a declaration of intent, a promise carved into the night air.

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https-furina · 1 year

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tags. all my posts will be marked with https-furina (previously https-alhaitham + https-heizou.)

— furina’s faves 🪸 this tag can be found on fics/works/arts that i reblog as a recommendation to my followers. the lady’s tea party ₊˚⊹♡ this is my asks tag, anonymous or not. ( sealed letters ) my writing tag. serafina.txt on all my txt posts. fresh baked goods (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) my reblog tag.

— 🎂 joyeux anniversaire! is my birthday tag for my partners; zhongli, heizou, cyno, tighnari, albedo, shenhe, candace, hu tao, furina & ei.

“did you miss me?” ᐢ..ᐢ ࣪˖ is my icymi tag.

anons. all anon posts are tagged with — 💌 secret admirers. anons & non-mooties will individually get tags like admirers ♡ [name/anon]

🏮, 🐙 mutuals. all my mutuals will have a tag like beloved; [name] ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

☆ mika - @mikacynth┆ ☆ mae - @maehemthemisfit ☆ bell - @blue-b3rries ┆ ☆ inky - @lemeowade ☆ amai - @amaiaqt ┆ ☆ general - @watatsumiis ☆ aly - @soleillunne ┆ ☆ ari - @n3r0-1417 ☆ yui - @ilyuu ┆ ☆ kiri - @kirimoochi ☆ bori - @bboricha ┆ ☆ yume - @yaminohimeyume ☆ aya - @miuzki ┆ ☆ yukari - @ryuryuryuyurboat ☆ lili - @lucid-lilium ┆ ☆ dumbi - @dumbificat ☆ heia - @heiayen ┆ ☆ coco - @hwaitham ☆ raine - @to-kazuha ┆ ☆ mimi - @bunicate ☆ yza - @yzashaven┆ ☆ clara - @umgatochamadopercyval ☆ honey - @honeykaes ┆ ☆ frost - @jingyuansbird sorry for the tags mooties !! ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

#genshin impact #〉 🫧 the archon’s memoir #https-furina

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ohvalleys · 2 months

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💌

TO THE MAILBOX OF ELIAS MALDONADO.

@psychcpomps ... placed directly in Elias' mailbox, the letter sits in a basic white envelope with an assortment of random doodles across the entire outside, and Elias's name scrawled on the front in looping script. When opened to reveal neatly torn notebook paper and inky black pen strokes, sand falls out. It sits atop a plainly wrapped small brown package.

Elias,

Did you know horses and the sea have a special bond? My grandfather has stories about far away lands with myths about the same spirits ruling over the sea that created horses, or those who came out of the water riding on them. I have attached below some facts about horses you probably know already, but thought you may found interesting. [Twelve neatly penned facts about horses from books at the library follow, along with accompanying horse drawings and doodles of various skill.]

Learning is always a gift. I have enjoyed learning in honor of you, even if you learned nothing from this letter. I have attached a gift below for your horses. Seaweed can help horses help with digestion and reduce bad bacteria. Hopefully these seaweed treats will keep their immune systems nice and strong.

Those sensitive in changes to those around them, including those of our four hooved friends, are the same sort of people who are sensitive in changes to the air or the tides. I hope you are taking care of yourself. If you need a reprieve, know you are always welcome.

Yours,

Cordelia Taumata

[Attached: A small box of homemade seaweed treats for the horses.]

#cordelia.#cordelia & elias.#cordelia / letters.#dew.task001 #aw he even got a gift

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xxsycamore · 1 year

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Can I have 😘 For Alphons (Or Elbert) From Ikemen Villain?

I'm choosing the former for...personal reasons 👉👈 Hope you enjoy!

[😘] 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚕𝚏𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔。。。

ALFONS:

"You want to tell me something? Very well, go ahead then - I will lean down for you."

You cling to your crumbling composure as Alfons' tall frame bows to allow speaking into his ear. The neatly combed long inky black lock of hair on his left side wavers graciously with the movement, and you nearly forget all about your little plan.

As soon as the smooth and chiseled side of his face is in close proximity to your lips, you purse them unsurely before puckering them - courage soon seeping into your veins to fuel the action - but they never reach their goal. Alfons' gloved hand finds your chin and tips it to his liking, a different pair of lips claiming a different territory. He kisses your cheek; without any clue that would've gotten you prepared beforehand. His earlier demeanor was but an illusion.

"Is this innocent little kiss all you wanted? Come on now. Be more honest with your desires."

Alfons lingers there, thumb stroking across your chin. He could do as he wishes now, kiss your cheek and jawbone or else kiss your eyes shut so you're blind to the rest of the tricks he's got in his sleeve; or go straight for your lips - you won't move a centimeter. But all he does is whisper in your ear, just how you initially pretended to do to him. It surprises you again.

"Come onnn. Sate my appetite more, and I'll sate yours."

∎ For You, My Valentine‼️ - xxsycamore’s 1000 followers celebration party | 💌 event masterlist

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains alfons #ikevil alfons #alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alphons #ikemen alfons #For You My Valentine!! - xxsycamore's 1000 followers celebration party

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natimiles · 3 months

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How are we feeling about Ellis trailer??? 👀

I am feeling feelings, that's for sure, ASHEASUIEHASIUEHAS

LIKE. I didn't even play Ikevil yet! I'm waiting for the EN release! I'm just binge-reading his translations and... and... I love him already 🤍🥹🤲🏻

And he is so soft, and adorable, and his voice... HIS VOOOOOOICE! 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐

and he is so handsome and hot

#💌 inky #talking time #ikevil #ikevil rambles #ikevil ellis

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veneritia · 5 months

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Violet - Do a voice claim for your OC (@inky-duchess 💜)

Thanks for the ask @inky-duchess!

General + Violet - Do a voice claim for your OC

I'm not kidding I have no idea what any of them sound like 〒▽〒 They sound like the voices in my head but if you ask me what actor or person they sound like then I will immediately forget the voice of everyone ever

💌🌸flowery oc asks🌸💌

#collection.queries #collection.ask game #series.wctd #wctd.misc #collection.my projects

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deedis · 1 year

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does. does inky have his own prayer mat

YUEEAAAAAHHHHH inky is a proud muslim he prays fivetimes a day IMAGE FOR PROOF (unfortunatelt not on his own personal mat):

#💌#anon #inky tag

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lorei-writes · 3 months

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💌 hello lorei :))

Inky!! Your enthusiasm is infectious. I think you genuinely like what others do and want to appreciate their effort. Overall, the impression I get is that you value good health of the community and just... want to enjoy it / celebrate it (I remember those events!)? It makes you a person that's always lovely to be seen around.

+ You art is adorable. There was this Chevie semi-recently and it made me kick my feet.

#answered #chevcore

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cloudcountry · 10 months

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💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌

thank u sm inky!! :(( thats so sweet of you!!! i really liek your art style!! :D the picture u sent me of your twst oc WOWED me because the features looked so soft and realistic?!?!?!?

#🌌! inky

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fictionkinfessions · 10 months

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To Crowley #🥂💌📞 ,

I miss you too, you wily serpent . . .

I miss your wit, your sarcasm, your humor. I miss the way we would take trips in the Bentley. I miss your wings, how even in the inky black I could see speckled stars and flecks of color . . .

Embarrassing though it may be to admit . . . I miss our little arguments, not the big ones mind you, I could go forever without those . . . But the small ones-! The ones where it was just us disagreeing on how to show that we cared about one another . . .

Ah-! I'm rambling again . . . But you get the idea, hopefully?

Patiently missing you,

— Aziraphale 🕊️📚

#fictionkinfessions #ask response #mod party cat

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primeministerofantarctica · 1 year

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🎧🐸💌

🎧 Headphones or earbuds?

Headphones, earbuds always feel like their one second away from falling out >_<

🐸 Describe your aesthetic.

Imagine floating in space with no spacesuit (you're fine just bear with me), you can't see the Earth, you can't tell which way is up or down, it's just you and the inky darkness and the lights of stars a million miles away. A strange feeling of complete peace washes over you. There is Nothing. There is You. You, too, are part of the Nothing, both intrinsically linked and inseparable.

Solarpunk's cool too.

💌 Do you talk to yourself?

Not often lol but occasionally yeah

Thanks for the ask <3

#ask #ginjithewanderer

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