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ioniansunsets · 6 months

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✖ Heartsteel Boys and Their Love ✖

[[I was inspired and then I got too lazy to proofread. I hope this leaves a warm feeling in your chest! I guess these are headcanons?]]

Kayn loves you like a storm. Passionate, explosive, and mad. Emotions high, he is passionate about loving you. Grand gestures and even grander proclamations. His love was names shouted out from rooftops that the two of you aren't allowed to be on. Loud noises of excitement whenever he sees you. The little yelps he makes when you surprise him at concerts. It's the happy shouts as he waves at you from the stage, arm thrown up high before he points right at you. His love is the excited smiles as he runs up to you whenever you meet, full speed, almost a tackle. It is the loud laughter as you watch him do absolutely insane shit. The laughter of someone truly in love as he spends time joking around with you. Kayn loves you like a storm. Loud, fast, exciting. Kayn's love is wild and overwhelming. It is the thunder and lighting, the whirling winds and cold rain. It is the way he'll pick you up at your place and drive you to impromptu dates. Teasing the speed limit while blasting songs out loud while the two of you stick your heads out the window. It’s the way he would fill your room with balloons on your birthday and hand you a knife to pop them all with right after. Or jump you with a present you mentioned wanting just a day before. It’s the way he would drag you to the studio to jam out when you needed a pick me up. It was the way his kisses leave you breathless, and his smile sends electricity down your spine. His love was wild. His love was free. His love was a storm.

Ezreal loves you like it is the first day of spring. Bright, sunny, and undeniably warm but not too hot. His love is in the way he chuckles like a flower blooming for the first time whenever he sees you. His kisses like the first warm breeze of the season, chaste and leaving you wanting more. Ezreal's love is in the way he blinks into your life. Taking cute photos together at a photobooth. It's the way he holds your hand as he runs through the streets. It's the way he would mess your hair up and run away, baiting you into chasing him. It was the way he would sneak you into a school late at night, kissing you under the bleachers like it is your first love. His love was the way he'd pick you up and skateboard down the street, whisking you away to do something fun. His love was the wink he’d throw your way when he spots you in the concert crowd. Ezreal loves you like it is the first day of spring. Sparkling, colorful, new. Ezreal's love is like the way you hear birds coming back from the winter. It is how he would whisper you cringey romance as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. It's how he would blush sometimes when you tell him you love him, somehow still shocked that you haven't gotten bored. It is how he would bring you out shopping, throwing cute clothes and accessories your way because he loves making you feel good about yourself. It was how he would drag you cafe hopping, feeding you a macaron here, a slice of cake there, always new things, always fun and interesting. It was the way he would go to the ends of the earth just to see you smile. Ezreal's love was fresh. His love was heart racing. His love was spring.

Aphelios loves you like a cold night. Safe, nostalgic, calm. Soft hands holding you close. Softer kisses and even softer words that fill you with a love like never before. The gentle love of a light from the full moon shining down, reminding you that there is light in the darkest of nights. Aphelios loves you in the way he makes sure you are always safe and warm. His love is the sneaky kisses in the shadows when no one is watching. It is the way he smiles cheekily after stealing your hoodie, only to see him wear it the next day. It is the way his fingers sneak around your waist, pulling you close to him when it is crowded, making sure you are safe and near. It is the soft raspy laugh when you prank him instead, like old friends meeting again after a long time. It was how you can see his eyes light up when he sees you singing to his songs. Aphelios loves you like a cold night. Mysterious, enchanting, soothing. It is the way he lightly plants kisses on your head, rubbing your back while you cry. It is the way he writes you love songs for his words cannot reach you. It is how he lovingly holds your face while he pulls your hand close to his chest, making sure you can feel his heartbeat for you. It is how he would sneak into your bed at night, finding solace in your warm embrace. It was how he would have quiet talks with you on the balcony, smiling happily as you talk about your day. Aphelios' love was comforting. His love was supportive. His love was the night.

Sett loves you like the middle of summer. Fun, fiery, free. Its a holiday all the time with him. Kind gestures that leave you giggling. His love was the way he'd pick you up in a hug when he sees you after a long time. It was how he would bring you to wild dinners with everyone, making sure you are never alone. His love was like the sound of students free from work. The exciting possibility of anything and everything that summer entails. It was how his laugh was loud and boisterous, leaving you feeling warm inside. His love was how he'd hold your hand in public, not worrying what anyone says because he was The Boss. It is the way his ears always flicked around, trying to hear you, how they twitched excitedly when you talked to him. His love was the little bop he’d do, punching the air to show off when he sees you rapping his lines. Sett loves you like the middle of summer. Lounging, happy, golden. Sett's love was the way his kisses were showy, always passionate, always warm. It was how he would physically pick you up and drive you to a beach when you were stressed, chasing you across the shore, lying in the warm sand as the two of you laugh so hard you cry. It is the way his presence made you feel like you could do anything, because he always had you back. It was how he would blow up your phone talking about his day when he was away, making you feel like he never left. It was how he would fall asleep easiest when you laid on him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he holds you close to him. Sett's love was alive. His love was young. His love was summer.

K'Sante loves you like a sunny day. Dazzling, upbeat, radiant. Love that reminded you of good weather, of warmth that makes you feel safe. His love makes you feel heard. Makes you feel like things are ok. Makes you feel like even if times are tough, he would be by your side, cheering you up. His love was like the warm sun bearing down on you on a hot day. You can always feel it's warmth heat you up. K'sante's love was how he always had the perfect thing to say, the right advice for any problem, a solution always within reach. It was how he'd bring you on a fancy dinner, dressing you up to the high heavens, making sure you were just as stunning as he was. His love was how he would hold you close, dancing with you in the living room after dinner to a tune no one else could hear. K'Sante loves you like a sunny day. Euphoric, optimistic, joyous. He loves you in the way he holds you close to his chest every time you meet, assurance that his love would never waver. It is in how his kisses were comforting like no other, bending down to stroke your hair as he lovingly presses his lips against yours. It was the way he’d chuckle when you tell him how much you love his singing. It was seen in the way he'd design matching clothes just for the two of you, so you can always feel his love nearby even when he is not there. It is the way he'd drive you to a flower field, throw out a picnic mat and serenade you in a sea of colors. K'Sante's love was hopeful. His love was light. His love was a sunny day.

Yone loves you like the first sign of fall. Cosy, crisp, cold. He loves you in the way that makes you feel like its time to get warm in bed. His love leaves you wondering how such cold can make you feel so warm. How he was so distant yet so near. Yone's love makes you feel like its a good time to snuggle up and read a book in his arms, quiet but present. His love is like the cold wind blowing autumn leaves into the air. Beautifully elegant. Gentle touches like the wind as his fingers ghost over your skin, leaving you shivering in their wake. It was how he would smile and pass you one half of his earpiece, letting you listen to him mix and edit, so you won't feel left out. His love was the way he would rest his back on the wall, pulling you close to lean on him as he calmly kisses your forehead. Yone loves you like the first sign of fall. Surprising, yearning, brisk. Yone's love was the way he would watch sunsets with you while his hand holds your head close to his. It was how you'd see him smile to himself when seeing a photo of you or reading your messages. It was how he would lightly rub his fingers against the back of your hand whenever you held his. It was how he would give you quick kisses whenever he walked past, too fast for anyone to see, but slow enough that his lips linger on yours. Yone's love was ephemeral. His love was mellow. His love was the autumn breeze.

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gemsofgreece · 2 years

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Sunset in Platýs Gyalós beach, Cephalonia island || IG: angelosdanalis

#greece #travel #beach #sunset #seascape #bird's eye view #sea #places #sunbeams #platys gyalos #cephalonia #kefalonia #ionian islands #heptanese #greek islands

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sotoushi · 2 years

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#greece

#greece #beautiful #summer #beach #waves #sunset #nature #Ionian see

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activityholidaysgreece · 1 year

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To all our guests, old and new…….a reminder. We now operate our weekly charters from Saturday to Saturday 🙌⛵️🇬🇷 www.activityholidaysgreece.com #bareboat #summer #greece #ionian #sail #boat #follow #instagood #instapic #picoftheday #health #fitness #sunset #lefkas #lefkada #uk #greek #bareboatcharter #learntosail #skipperedcharter #miniflot (at Activity Holidays Greece) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnSTl9erEj7/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#bareboat #summer #greece #ionian #sail #boat #follow #instagood #instapic #picoftheday #health #fitness #sunset #lefkas #lefkada #uk #greek #bareboatcharter #learntosail #skipperedcharter #miniflot

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calabria-mediterranea · 5 months

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Calabria, the toe of southern Italy is one of the country’s least-known regions and probably the most underrated one.

Calabria is best known for its beautiful sandy beaches along the Tyrrhenian and the Ionian Sea, and its dramatic cliffs, coves, and rock formations: 800 km of coastline, stunning turquoise waters and green hills adorned with olive, orange, and lemon trees.

The heart of the region offers a pure and unspoiled scenery, comprised of thick forests, dotted with canyons, streams, and waterfalls and three national parks: Aspromonte, Pollino (UNESCO heritage site), and Sila.

The warm weather, the wild and mysterious nature, the strong and genuine flavors of local food and the vestiges of its ancient origins, when it was a colony of Greece, make Calabria an ideal destination all year around, without the long-haul flights of more exotic destinations.

Art lovers cannot miss the famous Riace bronzes, that were found in the Ionian Sea near Riace in 1972 and exhibited in the National Museum of Reggio Calabria. These beautiful statues, probably two warrior heroes larger than life-size, are a fine example of classical Greek sculpture.

Reggio's ancient history predates the Greeks, who settled this strategic location at the exact center of the Mediterranean in the 8th century BC. They called their colony Rhegion, which was subsequently Latinized by the Romans and transformed through the ages under the area’s various rulers.

In Reggio Calabria, the lungomare or waterfront is a great place for a stroll, either down at beach level or along the upper promenade, which flanks what is commonly referred to as Via Marina, a pair of north-south coastal roads laid out in boulevard style. The approximate two-kilometer strip of land between serves as a lovely city park the length of the downtown area.

Stately mansions face this public garden and the strait beyond.

The seafront elegant, panoramic promenade lined with palm trees, with its views across the Messina Strait, which divides the Italian peninsula from the island of Sicily, to Mt Etna is one of the most atmospheric places for a walk.

Capo Vaticano is considered one of the 100 most beautiful beaches in the world: a long beach of fine sand with crystal clear waters, surrounded by ancient trees.

Tropea, a puzzle of lanes and piazzas, is one of Calabria’s most attractive towns. It is set in a dramatic spot on a cliff where the houses seem to blend into the rock. Tropea is famed for the spectacular sunsets, between the cliff and the rocky promontory with the church of Santa Maria dell’Isola.

Stacked high up on a sea cliff, there is Pizzo with its unique Church of Piedigrotta, entirely carved out of tuff stone.

Chili pepper, ‘nduja and Tropea onions are the first ingredients that come to mind when talking about Calabrese cuisine.

Calabrians love chilli peppers and they add it in everything, from pasta to ice-cream! Every September, the “peperoncino” festival takes place in Diamante to celebrate its locally produced food.

‘Nduja is the Calabrian version of salami. A spicy, spreadable cold cut with chilli peppers (of course) and spices.

Tropea’s red onion is known for its mild, sweet flavour. In fact, these onions are so famous that cipolla di Tropea has become a Calabrian symbol.

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morethansky · 2 months

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Writing Patterns (Tag Game)

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

I love this concept! Thanks for the tag, @babygirlbridger! In descending order:

Sitting in the Outer Rim, at the galactic north end of the Slice, Daiyu was known as a corrupt, hedonistic world where sansanna spice and glitterstim flowed openly on the streets, and bounty hunters gambled away their fresh earnings under the moonlight. (Mend This Old Wound, obimaul)

When Hunter awoke feeling surprisingly well rested, which had become more and more of a rare occurrence in recent years, he could tell Crosshair was in the berth with him even before he opened his eyes. (Another Way Back, crosshunter)

Lothal’s Capital City has been obliterated, but its people have survived. (better served by tenderness, ketbine)

Covered in dirt, blood, and the neon-colored guts of the shapeshifting alien squid army, Bruce rushed through the Watchtower, ignoring the startled looks he received from the other members of the Justice League as they limped their way through the halls, the usual post-battle cheer muted. (so let them say our names, brudick)

The sand on Kioni shimmers in the sunlight, bright and sharp in contrast to the clear, iridescent waters of the Ionian Sea. (And All My Tomorrows, benassane)

No matter what else in the galaxy changed, sunset on Coruscant was always beautiful, the sky streaked with fuchsia and orange that lit everything in the Temple gold. (A Future for Us)

On Kamino, all cadets were required to look the same. (i keep what i can of you, crosshunter)

Midnight was fast approaching. Crosshair looked out into the bleak snowdrift and tried to suppress his rising panic. (hold you by the edges, maycross)

On Eriadu, they made their way to the Marauder in complete silence. (alone in the quiet light, techwrecker)

“You coming with us?” Unimpressed, Crosshair stared impassively at Wrecker and the guileless hope he radiated for a moment before turning around. (i should live in salt for leaving you, crosshunter)

Fascinating! I guess this means I tend to use the opening lines to establish the setting. And I suppose since I write a lot of canon divergence, it also (hopefully) helps readers figure out which point in canon I've decided to use as my jumping-off point. And most of them are too fucking long.

Also, wow. These ten fics span a year of posting. I can't believe how much I've written in that time! (And there's still so much yet to be posted!)

Tagging anyone who's reading this!

#ask game #amph talks

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iphisesque · 9 months

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overheard on the train:

"oh man this is going to be GREAT i can't wait to see the sunrise on the beach tomorrow"

"wait sorry to intrude you can't see the sunrise from the tyrrhenian sea only the sunset. you know that right."

"wtf we're meant to be going on the ionian sea near catania"

"this train is going to palermo....."

"FUCK dude what do we do now. im calling tano to tell him"

#top 10 saddest anime Moments.

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ever-darling · 1 year

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The Dangers of Business - Ch. 1

Silco x Fem!reader| Explicit NSFW | 18+

Romance (?) | Smut | Immediate Attraction | Ballsy Tattoo Artist Reader

Read on Ao3

100% thought I already posted this on here but apparently I didn't, so here ya go.

Without much thought about it, you call out to him as he reaches for the door. “Silco.” He drops his hand and glances at you with his good eye. “Thank you,” you say softly. You can tell it catches him off guard even though he has no visible reaction. He puzzles over the sentiment before he asks, “For what, exactly?” You hadn’t thought that far ahead, so you cover up your own carelessness with a huff. “For not killing me, I guess.” “Killing you isn’t off the table should you disobey the terms of our agreement.”

Or, in which you put your foot in your mouth and still somehow get laid.

Chapter 1

You really should have known not to indulge the whims of an impetuous teenaged girl you’ve never met, but almost as soon as she plops herself down across from you and leans over the table with a wide smile and electric, blue eyes filled with awe, she pretty much has you wrapped around her little finger. There’s something about this kid that flashes “DANGER” in big, red letters across your brain. You really should have listened to them. Only problem is, she’s so studiously engrossed in the menagerie of tattoos that adorn your arms and neck that a deep-seated amusement pushes away any ill omens that might have saved you.

“See something you like?” you ask, a wry smile pulling at your lips.

She scrunches up her freckled nose. “Not really into older women.”

Your bark of laughter seems to surprise her - almost like she's not used to anyone laughing with (or at?) her. She eyes you, unsure.

“I meant the ink, kid,” you manage.

“Oh.” She snorts and clasps her hands together. “In that case, I think I need a closer look.”

Nevermind the fact that you’re in the middle of a late lunch, apparently. If it wasn’t your day off, you’d shoo her away, but what would be the harm in letting her get a closer look at your art? She’s just admiring what’s meant to be admired, after all. So, with one arm held out to the girl, you attempt to finish your sandwich without losing all of the contents in your lap.

The girl gasps and jumps up on the table with the nimble reflexes of a cat to tug your offered arm close in an astonishingly firm grip. As she studies your many years of work, you take the opportunity to study her as well.

She can’t be older than fourteen or fifteen - still in that awkward stage on the way from puberty to adulthood. Her blue, braided hair looks like it would hang right around her knees. It didn’t seem to get in the way as she leapt onto the table, though. Impressive.

You eye a couple of guns holstered to her belt with steadily increasing interest. The guns aren’t surprising in and of themselves, but what is surprising is the quality of them, considering her age. You didn’t get your hands on gear like that until you were halfway through your twenties. And, well, you weren’t exactly content to scrape by with the shit pay in the mines back then.

“Where’d you get this one?” the girl asks, pointing to one of your favorites on your forearm. You smile as you remember the painstaking hours you’d spent designing it.

Your inspiration was an old, Ionian painting of a mystical fox that you’d found on one of your raids Topside. You’d lost it some years ago in a fire that was started by Enforcers, but you still have its memory every time you look at the black fox on your arm running through sunset-colored clouds.

“I did that one myself,” you say.

The girl turns her wide eyes to you. “You did? Just this one?”

“Nope, I did almost all of them.”

She gasps and tugs you closer, the brunt of the force punching your gut straight into the edge of the table. You try not to wheeze.

“You’re the artist? Perfect!” She turns your arm over to look at the rest of the tattoo. “Oh, he’ll be so surprised. And it’ll look so pretty.” She looks up. “How much?”

Given that you’re only just managing to breathe again, you followed exactly none of that. “How much what?”

She jabs a finger at the clouds. “How much for this? On me?”

“Oh, uh…” you glance down at the detailing on the clouds. You may be proud of that one, but you can sure as hell do better now. “Depends on how big you want it and the detailing and color.”

The girl releases your arm and you sink back on the bench with a wince. She flops back, crosses her legs, and scrunches up her face again. Only a moment passes before she leans forward, gesturing wildly with her hands.

“I want them in different sizes. ALL over.”

You tilt your head. “I’m gonna need some more than that or you won’t be happy with it.”

“Ugh,” the girl rolls her eyes and her entire body follows the motion. “So much work.”

“That does tend to be how tattoos go.”

She pouts. “Got any paper?”

You’re about to say no when you spot your unused napkin. With a grin, you hold it up to her.

You don’t really expect her to take it, but she snatches it from you and pulls out two crayons: one blue and one pink. Definitely a theme of colors on this one. She uses the pink to sketch a crude drawing that only vaguely resembles a person, but she clarifies that it’s her with long, blue braids. You quickly finish your lunch and wipe your hands on your pants, watching as the kid adds blue sort-of clouds on various parts of the figure’s upper body and arms.

When she’s finished, she holds it up with a wide grin. “Like that!”

You raise your brows as you take the napkin. “Do you have any tattoos now?”

“Nope!”

You huff, another amused smile pulling at your lips. “That’s a lot of ink for your first time, kid. Maybe you should think on it a while.”

“I want that,” she points at the napkin with a spark of impatience in her eyes. “Can you do it or not?”

“Yeah, kid, I can do it. It’ll take a while to design, though, and probably multiple sessions.”

“Blah, blah, whatever. You’ve got until Wednesday.”

You blink up at her, caught somewhere between scorn and disbelief. “I’ve already got clients coming in on Wednesday, I can’t just-”

The girl grabs a pouch and plops it in front of you. It jingles enticingly when it lands.

“That enough to get you to shut up and do it?”

Well. You shouldn’t be surprised the girl is packing, given her gear, but you are. A big chunk of coins is a very good argument, but all the same…

You prop your elbow up on the table. “That’s not gonna cover the ink. Just the design and-”

“Holy hell,” the girl groans and flops to her back with an arm draping dramatically over her forehead. “How can I get you to stop talking?”

“Alright, fine.” You cross your arms. “Come in after hours on Wednesday. But if you want these, you’re going to have to sit through at least three sessions spread out over multiple weeks.”

The girl peeks at you from under her arm, scowling. “Why?”

“Because if you get it all at once, you’re gonna fuck up the healing process - and you’ll have to be wrapped in plastic for a long time, which is going to interfere with firing those pretty guns of yours. That means no target practice and no antagonizing Enforcers.”

She sits up. “What if I do all of that anyway?”

“If you want to waste your money, be my guest. I ain’t your mum. But if you want them to turn out well, you’re gonna have to be patient.”

She holds your no-nonsense stare with a petulant pout for so long that you wonder if she’ll pick someplace else to get her ink. There must be something about you she likes, though, because she can’t hold back a bright, child-like laugh.

“Alright,” she says and holds her hand out. “You win.”

You return her smile and take her hand. Something devilishly mischievous flashes in her eyes and you second-guess your decision to even acknowledge the girl, but in a blink, she’s up and saluting you as she walks away.

“See ya Wednesday, Ink Lady!”

“Hold up, kid,” you call. “You don’t even know where my studio is!”

“The name’s Jinx - and yes, I do!”

Then she disappears into the crowd.

You sit there for a while, contemplating the entire interaction with a strange mix of confusion, amusement, and maybe a touch of nervousness, but not before you tuck the pouch of hexes into your pocket. Can’t have anyone getting any ideas.

The plans you made for the night fade into unimportance as you stare at the napkin, mind whirling with the possibilities. Even though Jinx only wants clouds, you have to make sure they work together with her… energy.

So, instead of meeting your old pals for a wild night of drinking and poker, you go home, napkin in hand, and start brainstorming.

---

When Wednesday rolls around, you find yourself dreading the day before you even get out of bed. Not because you aren’t excited to see Jinx - quite the opposite, really.

The clients you have ahead of you are much more, well, boring. And grumpy. They don’t pay as well, either.

You had expected Jinx’s bribe to be bronze and copper hexes - maybe a silver or two in there somewhere - but instead, every single one of the hexes were gold. It was a miracle you didn’t pass out when you saw it. She gave you enough for two sessions at least… No need to tell her that, though. If she’s comfortable enough to throw that kinda coin around, who are you to argue?

The day drags on slowly and terribly with clients that are, at best, apathetic. You start to worry that you won’t have the energy for Jinx, but as soon as you finish your last client of the day, you get a blessed second wind. You’re ready for Jinx when she comes in.

“Hellooooo Ink Lady!” she shouts as she bursts through the door with a dazzling grin.

“Hey, Jinx,” you smile back and hold up your notebook with the final designs. “What do you think?”

Jinx bounds over, grabs the notebook, and gasps. She spins around, her braids narrowly missing a couple slaps to your face.

“They’re perfect!” She holds the notebook up beside her face and points at one of the clouds. “I want this one,” she turns around and points over her shoulder to her shoulder blade. “Right here.”

She’s wearing a slightly more concealing top than when you first met her, you realize. It’s still cropped, but it’ll cover the tattoo, if that’s what she wants. You wonder for a moment if she’s hiding it from anyone in particular, but in this job - hell, in this city - you’ve learned that the less you know, the better.

“Take a seat over there, then,” you motion toward a padded, adjustable bench that’s configured as a chair. She does so with an excited skip, plopping down backwards and propping herself on her arms like she’s a regular. Once you’re sure you have the shade of blue that she wants, you get to work.

Jinx is calm the whole time; she doesn’t so much as flinch. The first tattoo only takes you an hour. She’s so happy with that one that she requests another one on the opposite side - smaller and a little lower.

By the time you’re done, you’re both grinning from ear-to-ear. Her, because she’s so happy with the result. You, because she won’t stop gushing about it (and okay, maybe also because she pays you twice the amount you would normally charge without even asking how much you want).

“You’re the best, Ink Lady,” she says on her way out.

Over the next couple of months, you repeat the routine with the same results. Every time Jinx comes in, she’s added another piece of clothing to cover the part of her skin she wants tattooed. It’s a little disappointing not to see your work out on display, but you figure she’ll get around to it eventually. When you ask her about it at the start of your third session, she just says, “I wanna surprise him!”

Usually that’s code for ‘I’m not allowed to get these but I’m doing it anyway,’ so you opt not to press the matter and hope that whoever receives this surprise doesn’t come for your head. Dangers of business, you suppose.

---

You think you’re in the clear once you approach your last session with her, but a few days before the appointment, an unexpected visitor drops by. The bell at the front of your shop jingles as you’re working on an intricate design on a client’s lower back.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” you say, not wanting to stop in the middle of your current stroke.

The voice that responds is positively dripping with power and quiet, self-assured confidence. “I’m afraid I’m not accustomed to being kept waiting.”

Your client jerks backwards, destroying the line you were working on. You curse as he tries to get out of the chair only to fall over his own feet and take some of your tools with him to the ground.

Fists ready to deck the idiot who caused this, you face the door - but as soon as you do, the words die on your tongue. You’ve never actually seen him in person but there is no mistaking who he is.

His eyes are just as striking in their dichotomy as the rumors say. His features, just as sharp. His aura - that magnetic pull that inexplicably surrounds him - just as intimidating. Everything about him is almost exactly as you’ve heard, save one. The rumors grossly underestimate how attractive this man is. How positively saturated in sex appeal he is. You might just be content to frame his image and stare at it until you waste away to nothing.

King of the Lanes. Eye of Zaun. Leader of the chem-barons. Liberator of the Undercity.

Silco.

Your client scrambles to his feet and tries to make a run for it, snapping you back to attention. You latch onto your client’s wrist with your nails digging into his skin just shy of drawing blood.

“I finished half your tattoo,” you say coldly. “You’re not leaving until you pay for it.”

Your words seem to surprise everyone there - even you. After all, why should you be concerned with money when you’re probably about to die?

Rather than argue or count the proper amount, the man shoves his hand into his pocket, grabs a handful of coins, and throws it onto the ground. Then he wrenches his arm free and books it, probably never to return. The irritation of a lost client overrides your sense of self-preservation and you turn fiery eyes to your unexpected guest.

“Is there something I can help you with, Silco?”

His gaze remains unreadable aside from an underlying anger toward you that can’t possibly be justified.

You haven’t done anything to interfere with him or the barons - you pay your dues on time and without complaint. In fact, it’s no secret that you support Silco’s endeavors. You just don’t have the influence or resources that could help the cause directly and your fighting days are long behind you. Can’t make a living off of art with broken fingers.

Silco makes a gesture over his shoulder and two goons that you hadn’t noticed at the door take up posts outside, leaving you and the kingpin alone. That is probably a very bad sign, especially with the way he’s glaring at you and your heartbeat is picking up pace with more than just fear, but you distract yourself by picking up your tools and let the familiar motions of disinfecting them soothe you. Silco watches you for a long, heavy moment before he speaks again with that sinful voice.

“Are you always so flippant when confronted with a situation that overtly spells out the possibility of your death?”

You look up from taking apart your tattoo gun. “Perhaps if you tell me what I’ve done to put myself in this deadly situation, I’d be less inclined to be so flippant.”

Oh, he doesn’t like that. His good eye narrows and his mouth pinches at the corners and you know it should scare you but it doesn’t. And the fact that it doesn’t is what actually scares you. Because if you’re not scared of him and his temper, then you’re a fucking fool.

Silco prowls forward and grabs your wrist to hold it up. “Perhaps this jogs your memory?”

You resist the urge to free yourself and instead glance at your arm. Does he mean your fox tattoo? Surely he couldn’t have tracked you down because of an old painting…

Then it dawns on you. The endless amounts of coin, the tiptoeing around who she was hiding the tattoos from. Your lips part and you look up at the kingpin in a new light. Throughout everything he’s done, all of the sacrifices he’s made… he’s also a father. You breathe out her name as though saying it too loud would disturb the quiet that often settles over the hour just before dawn.

“Jinx.”

His tone turns patronizing as he tightens his grip - not painfully, but in a warning. “Clever girl. Perhaps you’d like to explain to me why you let a child waltz in off the street to get tattooed without supervision?”

“Child?” you frown. Even despite you calling her a kid all the time, child seems far too juvenile a word for her. “Jinx is practically a grown woman. Plenty old enough to get a tattoo if she wants.”

“That isn’t for you to decide.”

“Last I checked, there are no age restrictions on tattoos in Zaun.”

“You went behind my back for months,” he snarls and tightens his hold even further. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out?”

You place your free hand on your hip, thoroughly unimpressed with his rather unoriginal display of fatherly protectiveness, or whatever. It’s neither the first nor last time you’ve seen it.

“Are you saying you came all the way here to yell at me because you’re brassed that Jinx has been hiding this from you? How the fuck is that my fault?”

“You should have known-”

“I can’t read minds, Silco!”

He snaps his mouth shut and glares down at you with barely-contained fury. Both at you for your interruption and, you think, at himself for losing even just a shred of his control. Now his grip is painful, but you hardly notice.

You continue evenly, “She didn’t mention that she wasn’t allowed to get tattoos - or even that she had a father. Not that it would have made a difference.”

Silco pulls you forward so that only an inch of space is left between you, forcing you to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.

“So you admit it.”

“Admit what?” You try to pull your arm from his hold, but he doesn’t budge. “That I’ll give anyone a tattoo so long as they’re in their right mind and have the coin? Yeah. I've had kids in here younger than Jinx - the only difference is that she’s your daughter.”

As soon as it’s out of your mouth you wish you can take it back. Not because it isn’t true, but because it’s an accusation you’ve just spit at the most dangerous and powerful man in Zaun - and he isn’t well-known for being merciful. Far from your finest moment. Unfortunately, you’re too stubborn to take it back, and Silco is probably too stubborn to let you try. His anger becomes dark and cold - and that much more arousing terrifying.

“You really haven’t a care for your own life, have you?” he asks, voice sickly sweet. “I would suggest you refrain from any further insolence and take a seat.”

A small part of you wants to ignore the order, but you recognize this as the last strand of Silco’s patience, so once he lets go of you, you sink down in your chair with your chin up to keep your eyes locked with his. Obedience you can do but you will not be broken by it - not for a grievance as petty as this. Silco turns his attention away from you to instead study your workspace with mild disinterest.

“How many more tattoos have you promised her?”

The question catches you off-guard. You frown. “We only have one more session.”

“That’s not what I asked, is it?” he snaps and leans over you, forcing your gaze even higher. “Try again. How many tattoos have you promised her?”

You swallow and try (unsuccessfully) to ignore how his position reveals another tantalizing inch of his neck. Shit. You need to focus.

“I’m not sure,” you say as you drag your eyes up to meet his. (Which he definitely notices, gods be damned). “She requests a different number every session.”

He searches your eyes for something specific and you hope you don’t reveal anything that’ll get your hand chopped off. You aren’t sure whether or not he finds what he’s looking for when he finally straightens and saunters around you until he’s out of your field of vision. As much as you want to keep your eyes on him, something tells you it’s in your best interests to stay still.

“I will allow you to have a final session with Jinx under certain conditions,” he says. He moves again but it’s only by the sound of his voice that you realize he’s moving closer. “First, you will not mention my relation to Jinx to anyone. I will know if you do.”

You refrain from pointing out that he wouldn’t need to worry about that if he hadn’t stormed into your place of business like a petulant child, and instead say, “Wouldn't dream of it, Sir.”

Silco places his hands on the back of your chair and a thrum of energy moves through you as it shifts under his weight. You grip your pants in clenched fists to keep your hands from visibly trembling.

“As soon as the session is over, you will not speak to or even look at Jinx without my express permission. Is that clear?”

“What if she comes to me fir-”

Silco tugs the chair back and hisses directly into your ear, “Is that clear?”

You can’t help the shiver or the goosebumps or the way your eyelids flutter when his breath touches your bare skin, but you try your damndest to answer evenly.

“Yes, Sir.”

It comes out almost as a whisper and you hold your breath with dread. Did he notice? If he did, he doesn’t react. In fact, he leans even closer so that his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, almost too soft to feel.

“Very good,” he purrs. “And since I am benevolently letting you walk away with your life and all of your fingers intact, you owe me one favor for every tattoo you gave her without my permission.”

Janna.

You try to swallow but your mouth goes dry. Is he doing this on purpose? Surely not. But - he can’t be blind to the effect this is having on you, can he?

“What sort of favors?” you ask, miraculously avoiding the desperate whine you feared would leave your mouth.

Silco backs away and says, “All in good time, my dear.”

Then, without so much as a glance in your direction as he passes, he leaves.

You stare after him for what could be hours, trying to ignore how empty the shop now feels without him commanding the space. Trying not to contemplate how his voice trailed sweet as honey through the air.

Eventually, you have enough presence of mind to lock up the parlor and go home. There will be no more work for you tonight. Even if your other clients do show up, which you doubt considering how fast the rumor mill moves in this part of the city, you know you won’t be able to concentrate.

That night, you fall asleep to the memory of his breath on your neck and his lips on your skin. It’s deplorable, how thoroughly he’s managed to consume your entire frame of mind. The thought alone of the ease with which he’d done so is what keeps you from using the memory to bring yourself some pleasure - and all you get for your reward is a sleepless night of sexual frustration the likes of which you’ve never before endured for anyone, let alone a fucking mob boss whom you’d never met until today.

It’s not until you wake the next morning with the sound of his voice still on your mind that you realize the hopeless position you’ve found yourself in.

You are (or you hope to be) well and truly fucked.

---

The day of your final session with Jinx is marked by an utter lack of motivation on the opposite spectrum as it had been on the first. You don’t want to even contemplate interacting with any of your clients, let alone sitting down to tattoo them, but without a distraction you fear you’ll simply run away and risk being killed on sight by any of Silco’s goons. So you go to work and take a dizzying spin on the roller coaster of “Please, Janna, let this torture end” and “Oh fuck, the time is moving too quickly and I could literally die the moment Jinx walks in.”

It’s so bad that before your last client leaves, you ask her for a couple of smokes, which she gives happily. You haven’t felt the need to alleviate your stress this way in years, but the combination of debilitating arousal and consuming fear at the thought of seeing Silco again… It’s with desperate abandon that you inhale all three of those cigarettes out back before you go inside to face the most dangerous test of your life. What you don’t expect is him to be waiting there already.

He stands to the side of the furniture-separated lobby, eyes roaming over the numerous photos of your past works decorating the wall and very pointedly not acknowledging you. Jinx is nowhere in sight. Has he changed his mind?

“Do you always show up late to appointments with your clients?” Silco asks smoothly and shifts to study another photo. You glance at the clock over the door with a scowl. Late by less than two minutes.

“Do you always materialize at the place of business of your supporters just to antagonize them with ridiculous questions?” you ask as you go to the sink to wash your hands. It might be better not to respond with your usual snark, but it’s either that or ask him to fuck you - there is no in between right now. Damn him. And damn your fucking gutter-brain.

“You’re a supporter now?” he trills. “I would have called you compliant, at best.”

Oh, you’ll give him compliant in every sense of the word if he just -

You turn around with a hand on your hip. “Where is Jinx?”

“Ah, now you’re concerned with your appointment,” he looks over his shoulder at you with his brow raised. You don’t dignify that with an answer.

He turns away from you again, his hands clasped behind his back. Your gaze traces his figure from the imposing collar of his coat down to his fingers as he picks at his nails absently. Something about him seems… different. Unsure isn’t quite the right word, but it comes close. You wait with baited breath until he finally speaks again - at the wall rather than to you.

“Jinx won’t be coming today.”

“Oh.” Your stomach drops. As much as you dreaded giving her another tattoo with the newfound knowledge that she’s Silco’s daughter, you have grown rather fond of her. “You’ve changed your mind, then?”

Silco sighs through his nose and once again faces you.

“No, she is… indisposed at the moment. She insisted I come to you so that you didn’t think she forgot.”

Your first thought is that you have no idea what to do with this information, considering whose mouth it’s coming from. He has hundreds of employees he could have sent in his stead, but here he is. Your second thought is,

“Is she okay?”

Silco doesn’t respond right away but you see his calculations come to some sort of positive conclusion as his eyes soften the barest amount.

“She will be,” he says. Then, as if he realizes he gave too much away, he straightens and turns toward the door. “When she is able, she will come to you to reschedule.”

After a slight pause, in which you think he might have something else to say though he keeps it to himself, he strides toward the door. The whole interaction strikes you as pleasantly strange but somehow it feels incomplete. Without much thought about it, you call out to him as he reaches for the door.

“Silco.”

He drops his hand and glances at you with his good eye.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

You can tell it catches him off guard even though he has no visible reaction. He puzzles over the sentiment before he asks, “For what, exactly?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, so you cover up your own carelessness with a huff. “For not killing me, I guess.”

“Killing you isn’t off the table should you disobey the terms of our agreement.”

As if it could be called that. But he gave the threat with a glimmer of amusement that hasn’t yet faded from his eyes. You aren’t sure if you’re meant to see it, but something about it emboldens you. With leftover effects from your hungry devouring of those cigarettes, your inhibitions fall away.

“Well, if I do something to bring about my death at your hands, the least you can do is fuck me first.”

Shit, you said that out loud. It’s the second time in as many conversations with him that you wish you could eat your words or otherwise shrivel up and poof out of existence. You’re barely able to stop yourself before you apologize and it’s a miracle you can stand your ground as Silco stares at you with such carefully crafted neutrality that he must be hiding something. He clasps his hands behind his back and slowly turns toward you once again. The way his head tilts oh-so-slightly makes you feel like a mouse caught in a cat’s claws - and it thrills you. Terrifies you. All of it and more at once.

He stands there silently, staring at you until you’re sure your ears are red, but you don’t back down. It’s far too late for that. You don’t know how much time passes before the corners of his lips turn up into what is maybe a smirk.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, voice dark and dangerous and full of promise.

You’re unable to even form a coherent thought, let alone respond. Either he notices this and decides to give you some mercy or he loses patience in his little game, but he leaves without another word.

With both anticipation and a little dread, you realize tonight will be the first in a series of very long nights imagining just what he might do to you if you’re at his mercy. It’s probably unhealthy, but since when did you ever care about something like that? In this city, it’s take what you want or deal with the leftovers.

In this case, you refuse to deal with the leftovers. Even if doing so will earn you nothing but a gaping wound torn by the jaws of a beast - you’re not going to let such an immediate attraction slip through your grasp. You hope it doesn’t lead you to a painful death, but it’s not like you’re ever safe from such a thing in this city with your profession drawing people in all forms of perilous - from the righteous revolutionaries to the dirty scoundrels, it's all the same in the end.

It’s all just the dangers of business.

#silco x female reader #silco x you #silco fanfic #arcane fanfic #the dangers of business arcane

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ioniansunsets · 6 months

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✖ Heartsteel!Kayn Birthday Special ✖

✖ Word Count: 836

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: I think of this as a 10pm-2am party on the 30th so Kayn can quietly pretend its a party for his real 31st Birthday.

----

It was irritating, he'd have to admit. A full day of media and paparazzi chasing him. All he wanted was to by your side, to celebrate with you, to not have to phase through walls just to hide from the crowd. The crowd that was even worse than usual because it was Halloween night. He clicks his tongue as he pulls his facemask up to hide away from the crowd.

" Gods help me."

He whispers angrily under his breath. Almost like an answer to his prayers, Ezreal pops up and drags him down an alley, helping him to slip away from some fans and find his way to the club that you told him to meet you at. It was the usual spot, Heartsteel's favorite bar, the bouncers already waving to let Kayn and Ezreal in.

" Everyone's waiting LMAO! You're so late." " You're late too loser. The fuck you on about!"

Ezreal laughs as he flings the doors open. You, with the help of some others in Heartsteel booked out the entire club for Kayn this night. A hustle and bustle as K/DA and some other friends of Kayn's hang out, laughing and drinking. Cheers from everyone as he walks in, everyone wishing Happy Birthday on what he personally thinks is the wrong day. But attention is attention and he can't say no to a little fun at night. Everyone in little Halloween costumes, high fives, loud laughs, awkward hugs he talks to everyone, socializing and thanking them for the wishes. Yone graciously DJ-ing for the party, Akali pointing him a middle finger as they make eye contact but showing up to the party anyway, Sett and Aphelios trying a hand behind the bar to make drinks for the party. K'Sante sitting by a table talking to Alune and the rest of K/DA. But still, something was wrong, he sees all his friends but where the hell were you? The you who was arguably the most important person to him. The you were the one who invited him here anyway.

" Happy Birthday Kayn!"

At the sound of your voice he perks up, immediately putting his drink down to turn and find you. As he spots you a little away he basically runs over to throw his arms around you, lifting you up and giving you a little spin as you hug him back.

" My favorite person! Where the hell were you! I'm only here because you told me to come by the way."

He sticks out his tongue in mock irritation, arms still around you the whole time. All the attention and well wishes from everyone could never compare to your love. Ah how he loved your smell, your cute laugh, your stupid teasing smug face as it stared at him. He leans down giving you a quick kiss before letting go. Resting his arms across his chest waiting for a good explanation from you.

" Took a while because I had to get this finished for you."

You defend yourself, you hold up a present for him. It was small, suspiciously small for a gift for someone as amazing as him, but it was from you so like hell he won't complain. Picking up the box for your hands he holds it up, shaking it a little, no noise. Curious now he opens it, face immediately lighting up. He puts the wrapping down behind him as he holds up the gift.

" Oh fuck is this...?"

You nod as he examines it, a custom guitar strap. Designed like his recently solidified aesthetic from the Paranoia MV, bright colors, a yellow base, pink, purple and green accents with an imitation of his signature down the strap. Little handmade patches of him and Rhaast on the corner, hearts the colors of all the boys around the middle, and finally your initials sneakily sewn in the underside next to Kayn's right where the strap would meet the guitar, there, yet hidden from view so he could still use this on stage. A beautifully thought out way to have something of you near him all the time, even when he was on tour, on stage or in his studio. How personal... Kayn laughs, a hand returning to pull you into him, he leans down close to your ears as he growls out softly,

" Damn babe...you're going to make me emotional."

A blush rising up your face, Kayn turns to give your cheek a quick kiss. A hand sneakily rising up to wipe something away under his eyepatch. You take note to tease him about it later.

" All custom made and details hand sewn by the way, I got K'sante and Sett to help me."

" Thank you. Amazing gifts from you as always."

After a quick kiss on your forehead, he pulls away from the hug, hand wrapping around yours as he drags you to the bar, the brightest smile on his face as he gives Aphelios a nod to make drinks for you two.

" Now let's properly celebrate together."

#i'll proofread this later #im done with my essay teehee back to writing now #HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAYNIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU #Ionian Sunsets #Shieda Kayn #Shieda Kayn x Reader #Heartsteel!Kayn #Kayn LoL #Kayn League #Kayn League of Legends #KaynLeague #SCENARIOS #League of Legends Scenarios #happy birthday kaynnnnnnn xoxoxoxoxo #also by other friends of kayn i imagine zed shen and jhin just sitting at a table drinking whiskey or someshit LMAO

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gemsofgreece · 2 years

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Greece, Kérkyra (Corfu) Island. Photo by @adrianbaias.

#greece #europe #travel #landscape #sunset #pool #mediterranean sea #sea #mediterranean #kerkyra #corfu #heptanese #ionian islands #hide

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poisonousushi · 1 year

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excerpts from the complete poems of sappho + beiguang

Come to me now and loosen me from blunt agony. Labor and fill my heart with fire. Stand by me and be my ally.

— Prayer to Aphrodite

Stars around the beautiful moon conceal their luminous form when in her fullness she shines on the earth in silver

— Moon

I could not hope to touch the sky with my two arms

— World

My mother used to say in her youth it was a great ornament to wear a purple ribbon looped in her hair. But a girl with hair yellower than torch flame need wear just a wreath of blooming flowers, or lately maybe a colorful headband from Sardis or some Ionian city

— Hair Yellower Than Torch Flame

You will remember we did these things in our youth, many and beautiful things. In the city for us the harsh We live opposite a daring person stone foundation thin-voiced

— Time of Youth

Finding something desires Carry out a plan suddenly I call out from my heart. for all you want to win fight for me persuaded by a voluptuous woman as you know very well

— Encounter

You came and I went mad about you. You cooled my mind burning with longing.

— Homecoming

I hoped for love When I look at you face to face not even Hermioni seems to be your equal. I compare you to blond Helen among mortal women. Know that you can free me from every care, and stay awake all night long on dewy riverbanks

— You Can Free Me

Now she shines among Lydian women as after sunset the rosy-fingered moon surpasses all the stars, and her light reaches equally across the salt sea and over meadows steeped in flowers.

— You in Sardis

Stand and face me, my love, and scatter the grace in your eyes

— A Handsome Man

#what's more lesbian than beiguang is sappho AND beiguang #beidou #ningguang #beiguang #genshin impact #sappho #does this count as a web weaving?? not really ig

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nithhaiahh · 8 months

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It was beautiful, the sunset settling behind the forest...

Nith had been sitting there for almost half an hour by now, thinking. She truly wanted to fulfill her partner's wish and have a traditional Ionian wedding, but she was still scared about that important detail: her papers. Her birth certificate. The last time she saw her biological father was around 20 years ago and gods... she still was scared of that man. But, there was no other way out, she needed to find him even if that meant getting... hurt, again. Perhaps something even more severe than getting hurt... considering how she is now less human than before and ran away from her homeland, disobeying his orders and well... surviving.

Her eyes stared at the sky, the clouds passing by. If the worst was to happen... then... at least this time, she was prepared. She lived, had adventures, loved, got heartbroken and loved again. Finally she had people who cared about her, a family, a husband.

... She looks down, a tear falls down her cheek. It was sad, painful, to know that even if they cared about her no one would take a step forward to protect her from that monster, after all, it was impossible. She KNEW this was going to end bad and she knew that she was going to end deeply hurt... Still, like a child, she had hope that maybe... MAYBE someone would shield her...

But no...

She closed her eyes for a moment before smiling once more. From a small basket, she pulled out paper and a pen. Just in case, it was better to say her farewells. Just in case...

#drabble #and so her final event is about to happen #took 12 years but this is the last page i have for her story #nith reference~

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goexploregreece · 2 years

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The Portara of Naxos, or the Great Door, is a huge marble gate and the single remaining part of an unfinished temple of Apollo of 530 BC, is the island’s emblem and main landmark.

Standing on the islet of Palatia, at the entrance to Naxos harbour, it comprises four marble parts weighing about 20 tons each.

Its construction was initiated by the tyrant Lygdamis in the 6th century BC, according to the specifications of the temples of Olympic Zeus in Athens and of the goddess Hera on Samos.

It measured 59m in length and 28m in width, and its entrance was on the western side of Naxos –an unusual feature for an Ionian-style temple.

The monumental gate seen today, which led from the vestibule to the main part of the temple, lies amidst traces of its foundations and those of a peripheral colonnade that was never completed.

An arched Christian church was built on the ruins in the 6th or 7th century.

The islet of Palatia has been associated with the worship of Ariadne — a Cretan princess — and Dionysus, the god of wine and merriment.

Because, according to mythology, Dionysus abducted the princess at the beachside of Palatia, the islet is considered the place where Dionysian festivities were first held.

Naxos’ Temple of Apollo – Portara today is connected with the Naxos mainland via a paved footpath.

The spot offers one of the most enchanting sunsets in Greece.

#greece #goexploregreece #travel #mustsee #mustvisit #greek #europe #beautiful views #naxos #sunrise #sunsets #greece travel #greecestagram #greek islands #travel destinations

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