#call you Inky online
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creepyscritches · 10 months ago
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Since I stopped regularly posting my art online it's nuts the psyche reset my art brain went through. Ego death of whatever deviantart mentality. I'm back to drawing w markers bc it's fun, baby. Making my weird little things and breaking crafts bc it's not always an unusable result lol. Waiting to get back to my 12yr old mary sue generator brain, it's the next step to making more things I enjoy making
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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 6 months ago
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A short fic about online studying during quarantine with Yves
You yawned, watching your lecturer drone on about a subject that you couldn't care less about, but have to take to pass your course. You stretched your arms and leaned back onto your comfortable office chair... well, Yves's.
While those poor suckers in the online meeting had to attend the class using their own subpar laptops and be in their inferior bedrooms they most likely have to share with other members of the family, you're enjoying the pandemic in Yves's lavish home. No worries about food, entertainment, hygiene, technology or comfort, Yves has it all covered.
You propped your cheek up on an elbow, struggling not to doze off to the monotonousness of it all. Your ears slightly perked up when you heard the door open, but you didn't make a move.
Yves gave your shoulder an affectionate massage as he placed a bowl of succulent fruits, packed with Vitamin C and flavour, onto the table next to the RGB mechanical keyboard you requested him to buy for you.
He kissed you on the cheek as a greeting, and reached out to press a key. You had forgotten to mute yourself this entire time, luckily he had caught it now.
"Studying well?" He asked, voice quiet and smooth. Yves draped his arms around your neck from the back. He rested the side of his cheek on the crown of your head, letting his luscious locks cascade down and tickle your face.
You complained that your lecturer sucked at retaining students' attention while stuffing your face with the sliced fruits, Yves merely nodded along and stroked your hair.
You asked if he could stay in the room with you while you go about your day, entering video calls to video calls. It gets lonely and very tiresome.
"Of course, my love. I am more than happy to." He smiled. Yves lets go of you.
"Stand up, please." You did, and moved aside, knowing what he's going to do.
Yves took a seat on the swivel chair, pushing it backwards to allow some space between the desk and himself. He has his arms open, inviting you to come sit on his lap.
You crawled into his hold and snuggled deeply into him. Yves pressed numerous kisses onto your neck and ears as you shifted yourself to get comfortable. Once you're settled, he closed the embrace and pulled the chair nearer to the desktop.
You craned your neck to give him a sweet little peck on the lips, to which, he appreciates very much. A chuckle left him as he cuddled you closer to him.
"I love you." Despite being a whisper, it drowned out the painful robotic voice of your lecturer and made the class much more bearable. You returned the sentiment only to be met with another appreciative kiss on the top of your head.
His loving caresses and his inky tresses that you would play with absentmindedly, allowed you to focus on your lesson. It's oddly crystal clear now and not as agonizing.
Yves would occasionally check your knowledge by verbally quizzing you. His praises and tenderness were to die for, it made you strive to be the smartest so you could please him. But there weren't any repercussions if you didn't understand anything, he would simply explain it to you in a way you would easily grasp.
Whenever you're about to fall asleep, Yves would sensually stroke under your chin to wake you up. It was always pleasantly ticklish and such an attention booster. Yves would then proceed to massage your hands, caring for each joint and muscle.
You would sigh and melt into him as he ends the massage by intertwining his slender fingers with yours. Quarantine may be torture to some, but never to you, as Yves would make it seem like paradise.
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bonny-kookoo · 2 years ago
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Jungkook
𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [Snippet] 🔞
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Jungkook just loves to show you off- because while everyone on his planet might get to look at you, he gets to touch and love you in private.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, Extremely flirty Jungkook, suggestive, Major Fluff!, Romance, Established Relationship, JK has tentacles oops, smut
Length: It was supposed to be a drabble but I ended up writing ~2.5k words oops
There is no taglist for this fic
A/N: Boo here you go hybrid alien tentacle porn yay 🥳
⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅
"There you are!" Jungkook sighs in relief, finding you in an isle for fresh produce, staring wide eyed at the round plastic containers filled with cubed fruits. "You want those?" He asks, pointing at one with pinkish and pale yellow cubes. You nod.
"Sweet?" You ask, unsure, and he shrugs, pulling the item down to inspect it, before he nods.
"Yeah, those are sweet- but I gotta…" He mumbles the last part, reading the label a bit further while you begin to wander off again- though this time you're pulled back by his hand reaching out during his task of finding out more about the fruits he's about to buy, to hold onto the hood of your light cotton jacket to keep you close this time and not lose you again in the grocery store. "..safe for human consumption. Hm, there's nothing written about hybrids though.." He mumbles to himself before he pulls out his phone to search online if you can eat those fruits native to his home planet, hand now leaving your hood- one of his extra appendages sneaking out from beneath his shirt to hold onto the belt loops of your shorts to keep you close.
Basilisks- that's what they're called here, which confused you for a good while, until you learned that they actually didn't ever have a true name, but that it was simply an earth-term his kind had adopted to use for them, because it sounded like a similar word which means 'Blood-snake' in his native language. You remember how terrified you were of his uniquely inky-purple colored tentacles everyone of his kind has- mostly though because you met them when he'd used them to defend you both, the images still very vivid in your mind. But these days, you've come to love them as just another piece of him- even though you remember Yoongi, a good friend of his and your doctor currently, explaining to you that they do have their own minds.
'It's actually quite surprising they chose you.' He'd told you. 'I've never seen them so interested in their host's mate.'
Mate. It's still odd to think of yourself as that, though it makes sense with how he cares for and about you.
Jungkook is, nowadays, a bit more careful now with your food for example. He'd hate for you to have another situation like a month prior when you had eaten Nacuri- a vegetable he himself actually likes a lot, but that is apparently not very good for hybrids such as yourself, having caused you some major stomach cramps that pained him to simply watch- and ever since then, he's checking everything twice just to make sure. "-but can be eaten as a snack in small quantities." He reads out loud. "Alright, so only the small box then!" He chirps, putting the big container back to exchange it for a smaller one.
The moment his hands are free again, his inky-purple appendage disappears underneath the back of his shirt again, hiding away as to not get in the way, while he holds your hand as he walks through the different isles at the store.
He notices you yawning a lot more now as you stand on the metal parts of the shopping cart while his chest is warm against your back, and he's learned that's not always just a sign for tiredness in humans and hybrids. "We'll be home soon. I didn't think the line for checkout would be this long.." He tells you, hand running over your hybrid ears, while you suppress another yawn, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes from it. Oxygen levels inside buildings like these are fine for him and his kind- but humans and hybrids like you need a lot more than him to thrive properly. It's why he's got a special air filtering system installed in his home to accommodate for that- to make your life with him as comfortable as he possibly can.
It's the least he can do to show gratefulness for what you've done for him in the past, after all. And also, what kind of partner would he be if he didn't provide the absolute best for you?
He doesn't like how your ears droop after a few moments more- so he searches in your shoulder bag for the familiar pale pink plastic inhaler, setting it up with a few clicks for the proper dosage. "Here. It's almost our turn." He reassures again, offering the inhaler to you which you take with a nod. It'll help you with a bit of extra oxygen until you're out in the open again, levels today high for his kind, but perfect for yours. "Do you wanna eat the fruits in the gardens near the Archives?" He wonders, and you seem to think.
"What about.. those?" You ask, pointing at all the groceries.
"We can eat the icecream there too. I've got a spare blanket we can sit on, in the car." He says, leaning in to rest his chin on your shoulder. "I wanna have some.. cozy time with my baby, what do you say?" He purrs, and you shiver a bit, bunny tail wiggling around.
"Hmhm." You nod. You're not sure what entirely he means by 'cozy time'- because with him, that could honestly mean anything.
Later, outside on the blanket he'd laid out in the park in a more secluded space, you're happily filling your stomach with the fruits he'd bought you. He's watching fondly, because moments like these remind him that the past truly is behind the both of you. You no longer seem scared of anything as long as he's around. You speak freely to him, you're not shy at all, and you've even become a little bit daring these days.
You're no longer the empty, confused and almost soulless hybrid he'd met years back at the facility he'd found himself in. You no longer need to be told exactly what to do or otherwise you'll end up having a panic attack. You've become your own person, independent. You've blossomed, vibrantly.
And he loves it.
He loves you.
Especially now, hours later back at home, groceries still in their bags in the kitchen while you whine pitifully against his lips, with his grin satisfied while he watches you cling onto him. Something you've learned fairly quickly is that his kind is one that treats intimacy a little differently than humans back on earth. There's nothing forbidden or to be shy about for his kind- every type of intimacy or romantic displays of affection are normal even in public- no one stares at a couple kissing or hugging. If anything, people will just instantly believe a relationship is bad if there's no PDA ever between mates.
And sex? That's something sacred, it feels like.
Enio people just like himself find pleasure by feeding off of other's pleasure. They thrive when their partners thrive, they're happy when their partner's happy, and they're sad or in pain whenever their mates are. They also have relationships between multiple people- rarely ever having just one partner. Jungkook however had told you numerous times already that he's completely fine with just having you.
'Why would I ever need anybody else-' he'd said into your neck, '-when you're making me lose my mind every single time we're together?'
He's long lost his shirt by now, his dark purple tentacles already eagerly touching you. They're clearly just as excited as he is every single time you're together like this- and it's honestly almost cute.
Almost- if it wasn't for one of them very eagerly sliding right through in between your legs, back and forth, making you cling onto his arms as he watches you with an intense gaze. His eyes have always been something unique- like two pitch black voids, but only ever if the light doesn't hit them just right, making you able to see the deep red-ish brown and slanted pupils, similar to a feline. But in times like these, in the barely lit bedroom of his, they're just two nightsky colored marbles, reflecting anything like a galaxy.
His tongue runs over his bottom lip, licking over his silver piercings on one side. His grin is that of a predator, watching his prey struggle. But not for it's life- no, you're struggling for entirely different reasons.
"They're horribly impatient." He chuckles when one of his purple appendages moves to instead play with your pearl, before it prods at your entrance, almost as if to see if Jungkook will allow it.
He doesn't.
And it's clear with the way they retreat from between your legs, instead roaming your hips instead, before two of the four spread your legs open for him. That's how it usually goes- a rule set by him. Only he gets to be inside you- gets to claim you like that.
Your underwear is still hanging from your ankle when he pushes himself inside, hands gripping the soft flesh of your waist. He tends to be impatient like this, can't help himself, as he always tends to say to excuse his eager nature. You're perfectly compatible to him, physically and emotionally as well.
You're his, and he just can't help but want to make sure everyone knows that.
The windows are open, and your sure someone way down can probably hear your faint moans, but you can't bring yourself to care about it. "My baby.." he purrs into your neck, where he kisses and sucks his marks, hands gripping your body wherever he can while his tentacles roam around to offer you their own ways of pleasure.
You don't kind the almost sticky substance they begin to leak onto your skin. You've gotten used to it by now.
You're dizzy with everything going on around you. You're unable to quite move much, but you don't have to- both Jungkook's arms and his extra appendages make sure to keep you in place while his hips snap into yours, skin wet as it stays connected to his with thin strands of both your arousal and the sweet smelling precum of his tentacles.
A year ago, you would've tried to hide in shame of it all- thinking you dont deserve nice feelings like this. You would've never thought you'd be loved like this, touched like this.
But he's made that possible. He makes it happen time and time again, and in every touch he places on your skin you can feel the tenderness he has for you in his very soul. He's not lying when he says he loves you. He's not deceiving you with acts of kindness and care. He means every single affectionate gaze he throws your way.
You love him because of that alone.
"My sweet little bunny baby.." he chuckles out of breath as he rolls his hips in just the way to make you arch your back in pleasure, as he leans over you to kiss your lips bright red.
He likes to bite. Likes to pull a little on your bottom lip and likes to get you into any position he sees fit. Sometimes he'll kiss up your back as he takes you from behind- other times like now, he wants to watch your face as you come undone under his steady pace.
It fuels his ego every single time seeing you all fucked out like this.
Every time it's proof that he's a good lover to you.
The moment you come undone and clench around him in waves of pleasure, he's quick to shoot his shot as well- hips stuttering as he pushes himself inside, one of his tentacles sneaking between you both, running over your pearl just to coax another orgasm out of you, thighs trembling a little. You're somewhat glad his basilisks are keeping your body in place, because at this point you're just absolutely boneless.
He's humming in pleasure as he sighs into your neck, body covering yours now almost protectively. 'Shielding' is what it's called- you've looked up some of his behavior just to figure out things you're too shy to ask him yourself. It's an instinctual thing- a remnant of a time long passed when his kind had to protect their mates whenever they were in a vulnerable state.
And then he moves again, tentacles slick with their own arousal as they wrap around your ankles, adjusting your legs as he moves lower, his hands on your hips cherishing your skin it feels like.
And then his mouth is on you, licking you up, probably tasting both you and him in a sinful mixture- but it's another behavior of his that always repeats. He does this every single time, claims it's nothing special and that for his kind, it's basic care after getting his own fill of you. He's constantly surprised at what things surprise you- but then again, you both grew up on entirely different planets, with entirely different culture surrounding you.
So it's normal that some of the things you do tend to catch him off guard as well.
Such as after you're both done showering and cleaning up- he's always surprised how clingy you get after being so closely together just minutes prior. Normally, with his kind, it's like he's recharged his social batteries- now able to go about his day easily, no need for too much physical affection. But for you it seems to be almost the opposite- you love to cuddle and be close to him afterwards, and maybe that's one of the key points that just make you so endearing to him.
He loves cuddling. He loves being lazy with you, especially like this. "I booked our flight to Doria for the end of this cycle." Jungkook hums into your skin, letting you lay almost on top of him, skin still bare. "It's gonna be a long flight, but I already talked to Yoongi about medication in case you feel sick." he reassures you, and you just nod, way too tired to really comprehend what he's talking about. "You're not even listening at all, are you?" He laughs because he knows as well- though he doesn't mind. He knows your body works a bit differently than his own, and knows by now he can be… quite exhausting.
So he let's you sleep, and decides that maybe a short nap isn't the worst idea either-
especially not if he gets to sleep with you in his arms.
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octobobble · 1 month ago
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Break The Narrative AU intro post
I wanna start talking about the au online and such especially since I plan on eventually doing some art and writing + having friends that??? Wanna make and have made art for my au?? Insane. So this is a sorta semi masterpost. Questions about the au are like always welcome.
What’s it about?
Break The Narrative is basically an au with Click Clack (and later on Thespius) at the focus. Basically, the sorta figurative wall that keeps Click Clack from fully affecting the narrative of his world and such gets broken. Things that he would narrate without acknowledging are now things he can fully acknowledge and he can now enter something known as The Narrative Void. The more he tries to edit The Narrative, however, the more that things go awry in ways he could never predict. It eventually turns into them trying to control the “script” of the world, nearly destroying it in the process.
Timeline of events below the readmore
- Someway, somehow, something goes wrong and that little like glass wall between Click Clack and the game narrative gets cracked and breaks
- Click Clack can now actively interact directly with the script of the universe he’s in. Full awareness and such
- It’s a good story, but, well, the god of storytelling can always do a few edits
- butterfly effect of all time, he edits one thing, something else changes in a way he didn’t want
- hm. Click Clack vc well i can fix this <bearer of the curse
- He cant fix this, actually. Every time he edits the script something goes wrong. What the fuck. He’s the god of storytelling he’s supposed to be the editor of everyone’s stories how is this not going right
- it gets to a point where he’s actively fighting the narrative and the narrative is reacting to his meddling. Imagine if you had dev tools but the dev tools were calling you a bitch. That’s where Click Clack is at
- Of course, no one else has awareness of the narrative bc Click Clack was the one that would narrate it out loud. The wall is much stronger for everyone else. But they can see that he’s getting so much worse mentally and it’s. Strange
- Like hey. Is click clack supposed to be melty and have a cracked mask. Wgat the fuck is happening
- also him often going missing from his domain. Which just can’t be good
- Click Clack just wants to get some kind of control over the narrative at this point. It’s not about editing the story now it’s that he wants to have control over the story because the story keeps fighting him
- it gets so bad, in fact, that the narrative goes “ah, but this is a love story, isn’t it”
- You Can Now Play As Thespius(/ref)
- Now Thespius has narrative awareness. Which is *insane* to be hit with bc at this point Click Clack is like in a full spiral
- Because like. How long has Click Clack been messing with the narrative? How long as he been going back and forth? How long has Thespius been unaware of Click Clack going through all of this???
- Click Clack is aware of the narrative. Then Thespius becomes aware of the narrative. Then Click Clack realizes that Thespius is Aware Now
- Oh god. Oh fuck. Oh no. Click Clack wake up you fucked up big time your not-boyfriend knows what you’ve done. You dumb bitch
- Click Clack gets worse because instead of being like “oh Thespius is worried because he cares” he’s like FUUUUUUUCK EVERYTHING BAD FOREVER I NEED TO BLOW UP
- So he keeps fucking with the narrative. He keeps changing things, it’s getting to the point where everything’s just breaking completely. Everything he tries to fix gets worse. He’s the god of storytelling and he can’t even fix the story.
- uhhh something something Break The Narrative name drop. Sorry
- End up in front of a glitched out rift that’s freaking the fuck out, he’s a big inky just absolute mess of a monster. He’s only just barely recognizable through a mask that’s just pieces by now
- Thespius is standing on the spire. The realization hits him that he’s been played into the most convoluted roleswap known to man.
- He’s the villain now. Of course he is. Of fucking course he is.
- of course, at this point, a few other gods have caught on as well. Keeping with the convoluted roleswap thing, he gets so upset that he starts trying to rewrite what’s happening.
- he can’t
- why can’t he rewrite the characters
- ….when did he start thinking of them as characters?
- when did his friends stop being people?
- He finally crashes. He gives up and collapses from the stress and exhaustion
- He passes out. The narrative is finally given enough time to fix itself.
- Click Clack wakes up. He’s in his office. What day is it? Is his mask on?
- …Godpoke walks in. It’s. It’s like nothing happened
- ….theres signs, here and there. That this all happened. Things that the story didn’t clean up. Didn’t edit out.
- ….They all know it happened, don’t they. If he remembers then surely the others do too.
- Well. It’s time to resume our play, isn’t it
Thank you for reading, I’ll prob add more to this post over time etc etc
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who-is-page · 1 year ago
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CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: Inky Paws #3
Inky Paws is a nonhuman anthology zine for original fiction writings by nonhumans and alterhumans about nonhumanity, alterhumanity, and similar, related themes. This zine is primarily literature focused, but will also be open to more illustrative methods of story-telling such as comics. The zine’s focus is on fictional pieces that are centered around nonhumanity, alterhumanity, therianthropy, and similar (see Submission Guidelines section for more details).
You are welcome to submit:
Short stories
Microfiction
Satire
Poetry
Song lyrics
Experimental fiction (fake newspapers, fake recipes, fake blogs, fake posters, etc.)
Mixed media
Comics
And more! If you're unsure, just ask! Seriously, please just ask. I promise I would 10000% love to hear about your idea even if you're unsure about submitting it, there is no such thing as a bad idea and I cannot stress this enough.
How to participate:
You can submit your pieces in this Google Form!
OR
Email invisibleotherkin(@)gmail(.)com with your submission, and please title the email "Inky Paws Zine #3 Submission". With your submission, please include:
The piece's title or name,
A name or pen name to attribute the piece to,
Any content warnings that you feel are necessary for the piece,
Any social media handle or personal website you’d like to be published alongside your name with the piece (optional), and
Any relevant author notes or author biographical information (optional).
Anonymous pieces are also welcome.
Once submissions have been collected and the deadline has passed, these submissions will be put into the zine and it will be posted online as a free PDF. Submissions are due by April 30th, 2024.
Please see the Submission Guidelines, and Submission FAQ, below cut.
SUBMISSION GUIDELINES:
Each individual may contribute up to 3 accepted submissions to be published in Inky Paws; individuals within systems may each submit 3 pieces, that is to say 3 pieces per systemmate/headmate/preferred term.
Comics and similar multi-part pieces count as one submission altogether: if you submit a single story that has been divided into two sub-stories for dramatic emphasis, or if you submit 10 pages of a single-story comic, or if you submit a written piece of fiction and an accompanying image that you drew or otherwise created to go along with it, that would still only count as one piece.
Submissions must fit the thematic criteria of:
Being explicitly about or based on nonhumans, otherkin, therianthropes, fictionkin, alterhumans, or similar groups, or;
Having strong themes or describing experiences strongly reminiscent of or related to nonhumans, otherkin, therianthropes, fictionkin, alterhumans, or similar such as (but not limited to):
Characters experiencing nonhumanity or alterhumanity as being a part of themselves/their identity,
Characters experiencing anything similar to a shift (including physical shifting),
Characters struggling with (emotionally, socially, or otherwise) being both human and nonhuman or alterhuman in some way,
Characters having a past-life as something nonhuman or alterhuman that strongly still impacts their current life, or
Characters desiring to be nonhuman or have nonhuman attributes.
TL;DR - Your submissions have to relate to or be about alterhumans or nonhumans in some way, shape, or form.
Written submissions must not exceed 7500 words, and must also use a reader-friendly font with a text size of or exceeding 16 pt.
For stories that use multiple different fonts, such as pieces meant to imitate newspapers and similar, every effort will be made to preserve the general "feel" of your piece but fonts may not be transferred over 1:1 due to potential conflicts with font copyright, readability, and overarching zine style.
Multi-part image submissions must not exceed 10 pages in length, and must also use a reader-friendly font with a text size of or exceeding 16 pt if they include text. Images larger than 8.5 x 11in. will be scaled down to an appropriate size; please take that into account when creating and submitting your images. It is also recommended that images be vertical or square in their orientation.
Written submissions should be submitted as a .docx file. Images and mixed media pieces should be submitted as either .jpg or .png files.
All submitted pieces should be your own work. Individuals caught plagiarizing or using AI within their submissions will be barred from participating in Inky Paws, including in any potential future volumes.
SUBMISSION FAQ:
Q: Where will this zine be hosted? A: The zine will be hosted for free download on Itch.io, where issues 1 and 2 of the zine are already hosted.
Q: What is the cap on submissions? A: At this time, we are not looking to accept more than roughly 25 submissions at most, in order to keep numbers and expectations manageable.
Q: Can I update my application after submitting? A: Yes, so long as the updates are submitted before the submission deadline!
Q: What is your policy on content moderation and content warnings? A: If you feel your piece needs content warnings, please include them in the submission, as we are hoping to include relevant content warnings and maturity ratings alongside all pieces. We are at this time accepting pieces of all tones and ratings.
With that said, It should be noted that any items submitted with soapboxing intent and anti-nonhuman, anti-alterhuman, anti-fictionkin, or similar leans are largely not welcome, as this is a zine geared towards all aforementioned groups and then some.
Q: Can I submit an in-progress draft or sketch? Can I claim a spot in the zine before sending in my submission? A: We are not currently accepting WIP pieces for submission at this time, though feel free to send us your WIP if you have questions related to its future submission. We also cannot reserve or guarantee a spot in the zine pre-submission, regardless of any existing drafts or WIPs.
Q: Can I submit a piece of fanfiction? A: While we've now accepted pieces of fanfiction in the past, we tend to prefer to leave them out for legal reasons. If you submit a piece of obvious fanfiction, please know that it may be significantly more likely to be rejected from the zine and that, if the piece is accepted, the piece may be removed without warning from the zine later on if DMCA or legal issues arise. We strongly advise that individuals who wish to write something inspired by fiction make it non-obvious to the outside reader where the inspiration is being taken from.
Q: Can I submit something I've created in the past? A: You can submit something you've created in the past, but please try to avoid submitting anything that you've published previously and is currently publicly accessible. For example, if the story you want to submit has already been featured in a different anthology, please don't submit it to Inky Paws! We want to encourage people to create new pieces, or to put the spotlight on pieces that haven't previously had the opportunity to be published.
Q: Do I have to write something based on the provided prompts? A: Nope! The prompts are there by popular request to help give people a jumping off point for creating, but are not required to be incorporated into your piece and will not have any effect on if your submission gets accepted or not.
Q: What is the projected timeline for this project? A: Submissions will close by April 30th of 2024. The publish date of the zine depends on submission amount and size of submissions; in an ideal world, we hope to have the zine published by December, before year's end.
Q: Can I rescind my submission? A: As long as you request to rescind your submission before the submission deadline, yes. After the deadline passes and the formatting and work towards publishing begins, we cannot guarantee that we will be able to remove your work from the zine due to time constraints and potential formatting issues. Please take this into account before submitting.
Q: Will there be any physical copies of this zine? A: Due to cost restraints and a lack of printing experience on the part of the zine organizers, we have no physical copies of this zine planned for print. You are, however, welcome to download and print copies of the zine for personal use.
Q: Who are the organizers of this zine? Where can I reach out to ask further questions? A: Who-is-Page and Noel Sol of the Sol System are organizing this zine. Feel free to send us any questions, comments, or concerns to invisibleotherkin(@)gmail(.)com, or you can always message us on Tumblr at Who-is-Page.
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feyhunter78 · 9 months ago
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Chapter Seven - Back in the Red Keep, you and Jon face a new set of challenges. Note: I think R + L = J is soooo boring and basic, so I'm throwing in a theory that's been floated around online for a hot minute
Ch 8
“He saved me cousin, he could have left me to be assaulted and killed by the crowd, could have escaped with his traitorous family members, but he stayed and saved me.” You add, lowering your eyes submissively, you hate this, hate playing this role, but you cannot lose Jon.
Joffrey looks at your aunt then grandsire who nods. “Very well, you may keep your dog, cousin.”
You curtsy, thanking Joffrey over and over again, spilling out platitudes that makes bile rise in your throat. Dog, he called Jon a dog, your Jon, your champion, your defender, the one who chased after you instead of his father and sister.
“But I want him kept on a leash, if I see him sniffing around, his head will substitute for his father’s on the spikes of the gate.” Joffrey warns, that cruel smile spreading across his face once more.
You nod and thank him again, before taking Jon by the wrist and dragging him out of the throne room.
Once you both are safely in your chambers, you collapse onto the rug near the fire, Ghost getting up and trotting over to Jon.
Jon buries his hand in Ghost’s fur, letting out a shaky breath.
“I am so very sorry, Jon.” You look up at him from your place by the fire, feeling completely in disarray.
“I am still alive.” He says, unable to look at you, the tension clear in every aspect of his very being.
He stands stiff, his chest rising and falling as he forces his breath in and out to calm himself, his eyes stay locked on Ghost, his head bowed, his inky curls falling forward shielding his face.
“But you are separated from your family, and you had to endure Joffrey speaking of you as a dog.” You say softly as you begin to remove the pins from your hair, letting it fall free.
Jon settles down beside you, holding his hand out for the pins. “I have endured much worse than being called a dog.”
You both sit in silence for a while as you undo your intricate hairstyle, the one your aunt favored, the one you thought would endear her to you. Jon takes each pin from you, setting them in a neat pile on the end table. This is routine, something you and Jon have done time and time again, and while it is calming, you know it is not normal. That sworn swords do not sit beside their charge and help them undo their hair, that they stand guard outside their door while the servants undo their charge’s hair.
But you had seen your Aunt Cersei and Uncle Robert do it once, when you were very young. And though he was not her sworn sword but her husband, as a child you found it hard to tell the difference, husbands were supposed to protect their wives, as sworn swords were it seemed so similar. It was a good day, they were getting along, and as he escorted her back to her chambers you spotted them.
Your aunt, heavily pregnant with Myrcella, pulling out the pins, your uncle taking them, helping her detangle the stubborn ones. He was smiling, and she was too, a small one, her expression soft and open, thanking him quietly when he gently ran his fingers through her hair. For a moment you believed the act they put on in public, for if this is how they acted in private, surely it was true? It was not until you were older that you realized you were wrong.
“Is what your father said true?” You ask Jon, detangling your hair with your fingers, careful not to pull too hard.
He sighs and leans forward stirring the fire with the iron poker, his armor now fully discarded and set aside against the far wall. “I believe it to be.”
“If Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are bastards, ones born of incest they will never be able to inherit Casterly Rock, and Uncle Jaime cannot because he is a Kingsguard, my grandsire would not be able to give it to my aunt since she is the one who had the bastard children, which means…”
“After the death of your grandsire, you will be heir.” Jon says, completing your thought, speaking the words you dare not speak.
You lay down on the rug slowly, shocked. “I have never even dreamed such a thing.”
“Lady y/n Lannister, heir of Casterly Rock. A fitting title, you would do well as heir.”
You hum in response, staring up at the vaulted ceiling of your chambers. You can imagine it, you a golden heir, ruler of Casterly Rock, Jon by your side, perhaps a child or two with his curls and your eyes. He would do well there, shaping up the guards, playing with your children in the Hall of Heroes.
“Do you not wish to be heir?” Jon asks, leaning on one hand, his head tilting to the side, resting on his shoulder.
He looks tired, you are sure you do as well. “It is not that, I just…I am the daughter of a third child, a second son, a disfigured, scorned son. My mother was no one, the eighth daughter of the third brother of Lord Hawthorne, I could not even claim anything from her. It is my lot to marry some old man and bear his son, not rule Casterly Rock. I am not important in the grand scheme of things.”
Jon lies on his side facing you. “If the people of Westeros believe my father’s words, then soon the only trueborn Lannister grandchild of direct descent will be you. That will make you very important in the grand scheme of things. ”
You shift to face him, running your fingers over the plush rug beneath you both. “I guess you are right.”
“And if they do not believe his words—Jon reaches out and his fingertips ghost the curve of your cheek—you are still important to me, I know it is not as grand, but it is true.”
You want to kiss him, you have never wanted to kiss anyone in your life as badly as you want to kiss Jon, but you will not. You will not put him in such an awkward position, and your father’s words ring in your head. Not a husband. A lover, or a guard, but never a husband.
Instead, you close your eyes and lean into his touch, featherlight as it is. “It is grand enough, my champion.”
Jon laughs softly, more an exhalation of air than a laugh, his breath stirring the hair around your face.
“You are important to me too, Ser Jon, I do not wish to lose you.” You admit, keeping your eyes closed, not wanting the moment to shatter. “I forbid you from fighting in any other tourneys.”
“Then how will I present my lady with her crown?” He jests, his hand settling on the side of your face, his thumb resting just below the corner of your lips. “Surely the one you have now will wither beyond repair soon enough.”
“I care more for your safety than a crown.” You say, finally opening your eyes and meeting his gaze.
His eyes are the color of a gathering storm, dark storm clouds rolling in, shot through with streaks of lightning, the air alive, the taste of rain. The depth of them going on for leagues and leagues until you feel you could be lost in them.
“I would give you the crown, the throne, if you asked it of me.” He breathes, his eyes searching yours, his spoken words of treason slipping from his lips so easily you cannot help but reach for him, anchoring your fingers in his tunic.
He is a man of eight and ten, you a woman of seven and ten, you are not ready to be queen, not yet, but his words, his words make you believe you are.
“That is treason you speak of.”
He gives you a wry smile. “Will you turn me in, My Lady?”
“Never, I trust no one else with my safety, I would die before you are taken from me.” You say, tightening your grip on his tunic, panic coursing through you at the very thought of Jon being taken from you, of being alone in Joffrey’s court, of being without Jon ever, in any place.
His smile fades, that solemn, serious look returning. You have spoken at length of Joffrey’s cruelty, of your fears if your father was ever not there to protect you, what vile men wished to take you for a bride, the things they have said to you. “I would never let that happen. Do you hear me, y/n? I will never let anyone separate us.”
You nod, warmth flooding your veins, washing away the fear at his words, at the sound of your name and your name alone coming from his lips. He says it so perfectly, wrapping each syllable in his rough Northern accent. It is unlike any pronunciation of your name you have ever heard, and you adore it.
You wish to ask him to stay, to share your bed, not in a carnal sense, but to sleep beside you, to ease your fears, but you know you cannot.  You and Jon already act far more companionable than most sworn shields and their charges, and with Joffrey’s eye on him, it is too risky.
Your father calls you to his solar for evening meal, Jon your ever-present shadow is ordered to wait outside the door, and not to enter until he is called for, but he does not move until you give him a nod. Once the door is closed, and you take your seat, your father laughs. “You have him trained well.”
You bristle at his words but calm yourself, this is your father, he has been insulted all his life, he would not be so cruel, not to Jon. “He is my champion.”
“Yes, I am well aware, seems we picked well out of the Stark lot.” Your father says, beginning to cut into his food.
You do the same, waiting for a moment before you speak. “Do you know who set Lord Stark and Sansa free?”
“Stannis most likely, or Renly, either stand to gain from the North backing their claim, though Renly less so now. Though they did make my plan flow much smoother.”
You chew thoughtfully, then take a long drink from your wine. Of course, your father had been a part of the plan to free Lord Stark and Sansa, he was a good man at heart, and the death of Lord Stark would mean war. “And the rumors? Of my cousins’ parentage?”
Your father sets down his knife. “I have seen Robert’s bastards, and while it sickens me to think my siblings could be engaging in such…I do not think the rumors are false.”
“So, will we be named heir of The Rock? There is no one else, besides one of Grandsire’s brothers, but I doubt he would be willing to give them control.” You hope your father will tell you yes, yes, he has been named heir. Then you will take Jon and run, run all the way to Casterly Rock, and hide with him there until the realm has forgotten of your shared existences.
“I think it is more important to focus on the current heir problem, little lion.”
Your shoulders slump, but you nod. “Of course, Father.”
He sighs and reaches for your hand. “Y/N, my darling girl, I know your life has been upheaved ever since we left Winterfell, but I need you to trust me.”
“Trust you with what?” You ask, though of course it matters not the answer, he is your father he will always have your trust.
“Renly will fall, Stannis is declaring himself king, and the Tyrells will soon move to set one of their own beside Joffrey.” Your father explains, picking up serval cubes of cheese and setting them on the table strategically. “We shall send Myrcella to Dorne to shore up allies, and for her own safety, I would send you as well but—”
You cut him off, horrified. “I will not go to Dorne.”
“Yes, yes, I know, which is why I am not sending you along with her.”
“Thank you.”
“I have spoken with Lady Olenna Tyrell, terrifying women, intelligent beyond all others, if she were not so old I might suggest she take the throne herself. And we have come to an agreement that relies on many moving pieces, ones which I am delighted to say do not involve you and Jon until later plays.”
“Go on.” You are already making mental notes, attempting to see the connections before your father speaks them aloud.
“Joffrey should not be king, this is well known, and while I do adore Myrcella and Tommen, neither are fit to rule, they are sweet and innocent, too easily taken advantage of.”
“So, the Tyrells?”
Your father shakes his head, “not entirely. The Tyrells and the Starks.”
You digest the information, about to speak when your father continues, his voice lowered to a whisper. “I spoke with Ned Stark when I helped him and Sansa escape, he revealed something quite interesting to me about your dear champion.”
You lean forward, eyes darting towards the door.
“You know of the tale Rhaegar and Lyanna, the horrid tragic downfall of the Targaryens.”
“Yes, of course, all the realm does.” You say, trying to hurry him along, your curiosity growing with each moment.
“Jon Snow was born of a Stark, but not the one the realm believes he was born of.” There is a conspiratory smile on your father's face, as if he is not speaking madness.
“Are you—Lyanna, Jon is Lyanna’s son? He is a Targaryen?” Your own voice drops to a whisper, shock seizing your muscles, keeping you frozen to your chair.
“Gods no, though that would make our lives much easier.”
“Then what is he? Do not tell me he was born of incest.” You say, your hand going to the hollow of your throat, stomach churning at the very thought.
“He is a Dayne.” Your father says carefully, watching your reactions. “Son of the Sword of the Morning.”
“He is in line for the seat of Starfell? Rhaegar’s closet companion slept with the women he assisted him with kidnapping?”
Your father shrugs. “The ways of men are odd little lion, we cannot know how it all came about, only that the blood of Dorne runs in his veins.”
“But Arthur Dayne is dead, and Lyanna Stark is dead, there is no one who can prove this claim.”
Your father smirks. “Is he?”
You massage your temples. “Father, please do not drag me about, tell me the truth.”
“My apologies, allow me to elaborate. Lord Stark said he believes Dayne to be dead, but he did not deal the final blow himself, he and Lord Howland left with Jon before Dayne had taken his assumed final breath.”
“And unless you see the body cold before you, there is no assurance of death.” You say, remembering a pearl of wisdom your Uncle Robert had impressed upon you once.
Your father nods. “We must presume Dayne is dead unless proven false and act accordingly. A marriage must take place to secure a more profitable future.”
“You will not marry off Jon, he is mine.” You snap, pushing back from the table and standing, your face like stone.
“He is not yours; truly he belongs to House Dayne, his family.” He says, raising one eyebrow at you.
“No, he does not, they do not even know he lives.” You argue, clenching your fists, anger bubbling up inside you, a fire sparking, kindling, snapping to life.
“If you do not wish him to marry, we could send him home to Dorne with Myrcella.” Your father suggests.
The flames jump, climb, scale the walls of civility built within you and consume your rational mind. Your actions are no longer your own as you seize the nearest thing you can—an apple—and throw it at your father, who easily dodges it.
“Y/N, you are acting like a child, stop this at once, you cannot keep Jon from others forever.” He demands, his voice cold, colder than you have ever heard directed towards you.
It hurts, his words, the truth of them, the idea that someone else would take Jon from you, will warm his bed, bear his children, will get to love him as you long to. But you are a Lannister, you do not feel grief or sadness, you feel rage.
“He is my sworn sword, my champion, my Jon.” You grab another thing to throw, a plate, it crashes against the wall. “I will not let you or Lord Stark auction him off like a breeding stud.” Plates, fruits, silverware, even your napkin has been thrown in a fit of rage until you have nothing left to throw but the heavy chair you were sitting in. Which you do not have the strength to throw far enough, that it will make you feel better. “Jon swore his life to me, no one else, he is mine.”
Your father’s solar is a mess, and you are breathing hard, angry tears in your eyes as you stare down at him.
“He did, which is why we will not marry him off, we will marry off Robb.” Your father says, unfazed by your display of rage. “Ned Stark was declared regent, there was no mention of who should be heir, assumptions could be made.”
You slump into your chair, tears slipping from your eyes. You are not Joffrey, not a full-blooded Lannister, Hawthrone blood lessens the lion’s rage and allows you to cry. “Why did you not say that first? Why would you allow me to think—”
“I needed to be sure you wished to stay by him, and so did you. This will not be easy, little lion; many things may change once the truth is revealed. The Daynes may call for his return, or seek retribution for the deceit, if deceit was at play.”
You wipe under your eyes with your sleeve, the anger draining from you, leaving you hollow. “Why can I not simply flee to Casterly Rock and hide with Jon there?”
Your father walks over to you and embraces you tightly. “Because you deserve more, if Lady Tyrell is correct, you could control the Westerlands, you could marry a man you love, and the realm would have a good king through Robb.”
“But what if that does not work? Stannis has a daughter, does he not? Could we offer to betroth her and Tommen?” You ask, wracking your mind to try and recall the age and name of Stannis’ only child.
“If the Tyrell’s plan does not work then I will convince my family to extend the offer, then you and I will lock ourselves away in The Rock and let Cersei and Stannis eat each other alive.”
You laugh, the sound watery. “Or perhaps we shall run to Dorne and try to install Jon in the line of succession for Starfell.”
“That may prove more difficult, but it is always an option.” Your father laughs, the sound eases the remaining unrest in your heart.
You rest your chin atop his head. “Alright then, I will trust you. But who will tell Jon?”
TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines, @sharknutz, @idohknow, @bdudette, @pluraldoggo
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katsukikitten · 8 months ago
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for clarity Hakuji has his human eyes, blue iris and white sclera, normal lashes and no face tattoos but shares a mix of his demon and human form tats. Currently he goes by Akaza in this fic as an alias. Please enjoy ~
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You've been hunting down this bag for months, a cute weekender duffle by a designer that had a bit of an agreement with certain stores. Bought in bulk and at a discount because it didn't meet the luxury brands normal standards however the flaws are so small most people didn't even notice them.
You were dying to have this bag.
Especially since you'd gotten a purse in all black by the same brand for a heavily discounted price, the only one in the store and it haunted you enough you woke up early to fetch it the next day.
But as you stand in the store you drove nearly an hour to be in, you frown. Not because of the size oh no it was perfect for a week stay, maybe longer if you used packing cubes, the design just as you wanted it where there were Js in hearts printed into the bag but the pattern didn't overly draw attention. The only problem was the bag was in a soft blush pink and not that dusty pink or black you've seen them use before.
You place it on your cart, debate if trying to find it in ‘licorice’ online is worth the hassle, wonder if you can find those black heart shades you've been wanting too.
“Whatcha got there princess?” The man's voice is smooth, cutting over the ambient music and chatter that you'd toned out. You hadn't noticed him approach, silent footsteps to near you and of course there wasn't a single reflective surface in sight.
But before you can scrunch up your pretty features an arm is presented to you, palm up. Body ghosting yours while he waits for you to take notice of his inky midnight bands on his forearm, three thick lines encircling thick muscle that flexes from his twitching midnight fingers.
“Akaza!” You purr and he adores the sound. Glad he's the one who can disarm you so quickly, “M not dressed to see you.”
Truly you weren't at least not for a…what should you call this? Not really fuck buddies as each meeting didn't always end in sex and there were too few dates between you to be dating. It was more like a situationalship if anything else. A situationalship you held with someone who you were pretty sure was muscle for a notorious mafia head, that his ranking was higher than just a goon. Much higher.
“Not dressed to see me?” There's a chuckle to his voice as he wraps his arm around your rib cage to pull you to him. His scent has a richness about it that always invades your senses. He smelled like fresh air, faint cigarette smoke and a cologne you can't quite pin point.
“Mmhmm I don't even have my lip on.” You pout hiding away your bare face when usually you'd see him with some strategically placed highlighter, mascara and at least lip gloss. Normally in a skirt or dress that hid away some frilly lingerie set in case he decided to unwrap you that night.
Now you weren't sure your plain bra and underwear even matched.
Akaza thought you looked cute in a form fitting black tee with monster girls on the front, paired with skinny jeans that hugged your ass and thighs nicely and black flip flops that made your white toe nail polish pop.
To him you looked sexy.
His fingers gently tilt your chin to look up at him and he's met with the cutest pout he's ever seen. True to your word your long fluttering lashes were bare, your top lip naked with not one single swipe of black lip stain while your bottom was your natural color either on its own or enhanced with gloss or a nude lipstick. Under the afternoon sun and fluorescent lights he can even make out your freckles.
“As beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on ya.” He leans in and kisses your lips, smiling as he does so his natural fangs can catch on your pout. His heart races when you giggle into the exchange.
“Flattery will get you nowhere Mr. Akaza.” You tease, looking into his icy blue eyes fighting off a sigh.
Flattery got him pretty far with you already.
“Hmm.” He hums, grabbing for the only thing in your cart, dark digits wrapping around the light pink handles but your clawed fingers pull it back into the cart. He lets go of the bag, puts the matching brown duffle in your cart too, you look up at him and replace the light creamy brown back onto the shelf. When you go to add the pink one back as well he puts it deeper into the cart and gives the handle a nudge so that you'll keep shopping. Reluctantly and with a sharp cutting glare, you start walking again and he follows.
“Shopping with your friends?” He looks around for a few of the guys he knows dates your girlfriends, doesn't see a single one. No lanky dark haired mop, no sunshine boy, and no scar face either.
“Hmm? No.” You wrap around to the next aisle, futally looking for that duffle in black, before you purse your lips in agitation, moving onto the next aisle that was now lined with hand bags and purses. Maybe a new one would take your mind off of the licorice duffle. It doesn't.
“By yourself then princess?” He watches you eye a mini tote, it's the same brand as the duffle and much larger tote on your pretty body now. You don't pick it up despite it being a dusty pink. Akaza reaches over you and nestles it into the cart, smiling down at you as he does.
“Yes. All by my lonesome.” You sigh dramatically before giggling, “Everyone is busy or out of town. I'll probably have dinner somewhere nice too.”
“By yourself?” He can't keep the growl out of his voice and you dangerously give him your back, looking at another bag.
“Most likely.” You leave it and when he tries to add it to the cart your flaring glower makes his lips pull up into a smirk.
“Lemme join ya for the day then, Princess.”
“No, ‘m fine.”
“I insist, don't like ya wandering around alone. Who knows who might find ya and try to bother you.” He teases, leaning in from behind to press a kiss to your throat, “I'll buy whatever ya want baby.”
“M a big girl. I can pay for my own things. Besides, how did you find me, Akaza?” You've gotta stop saying his name like that, he's gonna keep you forever if you don't. It doesn't help you turn to face him, stalking closer like a cat with easy prey. Until your chest is pressed to his and you're leaning up on tiptoes even in those platform flip flops to purr into his ear.
“So what's it on? Did you sew it into my purse? Is it underneath my car? Or did you download it onto my phone after you made sure to smear my pretty lipstick onto your sheets?”
You pull away before he can answer, innocent smile on your face as you blink up at him cutely, whine to your pretty voice, “But we'll be shopping all day, Kaza and I like to take my time!”
It takes him a moment to collect himself from the whiplash you give him. A smile slowly pulling up his lips as his tattooed fingers brush hair behind your ear.
“That's okay princess. I love taking my time with you, remember?” Letting his thumb come down to press gently on your throat before he lets go altogether, “But if you agree to me coming along just know that every outfit, every bag, every little thing ya look at a little too closely is gonna be in that cart and stay in that cart until we're ready to swipe my card.”
“Your card?” You curl your fingers through the loops of his black jeans, let your thumbs slide under his form fitting black wife beater that clings to his toned abdomen as you trace the hidden bands at his waist.
“My card princess. M not gonna argue about it.”
“Kay!” You lean up and kiss him between the thick twin bands on his throat, turning back and grabbing the cart to push along as you think of where that black bag could be. Maybe a sister store had it or maybe you should try online again.
Meanwhile Akaza smirks behind you as you allow him to be your scary guard dog, at least for the evening. And without a single effort to insist or remind him of your hyper independence he knows you have. He likes it, loves that you give into him even if it is just a little.
That you trust him to take care of you.
The afternoon moves along nicely. Akaza is always a man of his word, pulling out his card at the counter no matter how steep the price. He carries your bags to your car between each trip to every store while he holds your hand with his other until the final trip where he has you leaning against the drivers side door as the two of you agree on where to eat for dinner.
He leans down to kiss you, usually his parting is tender and yet intense leaving you giddy and dizzy until your next meeting but this time it is different. This time he cups your jaw and lets it move to your throat as his tongue slides into your mouth to lick the inside of your teeth, groaning as he does as if he's trying to taste all of you like it could be his last time. Starving that pretty head of yours of oxygen between his own searing kiss and the way he squeezes your throat before he finally lets go. Icy blue gaze boring into yours as he watches hearts form in your eyes before he presses his lips to your ear for a confession.
“I installed it on your phone.”
His mind flashes images of the exact moment his possession grew unstable, uncontrollable. Of you beneath him, fucked out and mewling his name, tenderly holding his hand while the other clawed his shoulders to shreds. Of you in his shower, giggling as you clung to him before he could fully step in, wetting his body with your suds before helping him wash. Of you lying next to him, giving such a cute smile before you reached out to caress his cheek with such a heavy sigh.
“Because the idea of any man seeing you the way I do makes me violent.”
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fawnandshadows · 1 year ago
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How You Get The Girl
Chapter 23
Masterlist
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: Language
AO3
“I feel awful,” Elain said, pulling the seat belt away from her belly. “I can’t believe this happened.” Inky guilt settled into her veins as she thought of the photo that had been making waves online. She hated the guilt that lurked inside of her because she was so proud of that photo  — of how beautiful it was, of how Azriel’s artistic talent and passion was on full display. His affection. But that picture was for them. Not the entire world. 
“How are you holding up?” Azriel said from the driver's seat, reaching over to place one hand on her knee while the other rested on top of the wheel. The dark tattoos and his corded muscles was a nice distraction from everything on fire outside of the car. 
“I can’t believe this ruined Feyre and Rhysand’s plans.” Elain pouted and sunk further into the passenger's seat. 
“I wouldn’t say we ruined their plans.” Azriel said, flicking the turn signal to turn onto a dirt road. 
“We hijacked it, at the very least,” Elain grumbled and looked out the window, watching the leaves rush pass as they drove into the dense forest. “They were planning on having a romantic getaway at Rosehall and now we’re crashing it. And like a week before they even get here.” 
“Elain,” Azriel said softly, squeezing her knee. “Your photo was leaked. You have the right to be upset.”  
“I know,” Elain whispered, peeking at him from the corner of her eye. His strong profile, made up of straight lines and a beautifully sloping nose, looked confidently out the window, and the glow of late afternoon sun landed on him with a gold outline. “And your phone was compromised. Your privacy was violated because of me. I never should have told you to take that picture.” Her fingers played with the ones that laid comfortingly on her knee. 
“Hey,” Azriel said firmly, his eyes cutting to hers meaningfully before turning back to the road. “I should have deleted that picture. I should have never taken it in the first place, but I was being selfish. And how much training did I have to sit through where they expressly told us what not to do?” 
Elain pursed her lips and fought the urge to argue. To put all the blame on her shoulders. 
“You know what I hate?” Elain whispered, placing her hand flat on top of Azriel’s and seeing how small it looked in comparison. “How they can say such nasty things about such a beautiful picture,” She scrunched her nose and threaded her fingers through his. “I mean, if it was a professional shoot and that picture was in a magazine? People would be fawning over it. But because it was on my boyfriend's phone I’m somehow a slut? A tramp? It’s ridiculous.” 
She looked up at him and saw the muscle in his jaw ticking. Elain leaned across the console and placed her free hand on the left side of his face to pull him towards her, and then kissed the tensed muscle in his jaw. 
“It’s not fair.” Azriel stated, frustration clear in his voice. 
Elain leaned her head into his shoulder. Her forehead pressing into him. 
“I was thinking,” Elain said hesitatingly, unsure if this was the best time to bring it up. “But I don’t think I want to model anymore,” She felt his body tense under her and continued. “You know it was never something I really wanted to do, and I feel more and more detached every time they call me The Face, and after this whole experience I’m sick of that entire industry.” 
A short silence fell in the car. 
“I want you to do what makes you happy.” Azriel said, this thumb brushing over the soft skin of her hand he was holding. 
“That’s,” Elain started and cut herself off when she felt a burning sensation in her eyes. “That’s one of the things I love about you. You don’t care if I’m a model, or what I’m posting on my instagram, or anything that comes with all of that. You just care about me.”
Elain pressed a kiss into his shoulder before pulling back, and when she looked through the windshield she saw them pulling into Rosehall’s driveway. 
“This isn’t how I saw us being here for the first time, as a couple I mean. Obviously we were both here before with my family.” A blush tinged her cheeks. 
Azriel put the car in park before turning to face her. His eyes were intense and caring in a way that made her stomach contract. 
“This is how I see it,” Azriel said, his voice warm and lovely. “I get to spend a week alone with my gorgeous girlfriend, away from all the bullshit we normally have to deal with. And despite the reasons why we’re here — we’re still together,” He leaned closer to her and Elain felt herself leaning forward as well. “And I am going to do everything in my power to make this the best week of your life.” 
A smile bloomed on Elain’s face. 
“Did you pack the condoms?” Elain whispered, as if they were in a car full of people and she didn’t want anyone to overhear. 
Azriel raised an amused eyebrow at her. 
He rested one elbow on the center console and brought a hand up to rub his index across his bottom lip to keep from smiling. 
“I did,” Azriel said, almost smiling. “Are you planning on taking advantage of me, Elain?” 
“Maybe,” Elain moved even closer, her smile taking up more real estate on her face. “Is that a problem?” She unbuckled herself and shifted so that she was sitting on her knees, facing him fully. Hunched over and uncomfortable, but she wanted an unobstructed view of her boyfriend. 
Azriel smiled fully at her, his dimple deep in his cheek. 
“Let me get back to you on that.” Azriel joked, and Elain playfully swatted his arm before leaning in and pressing her lips against his. 
His strong hand came up and tangled in her hair and their lips moved slowly against each other. 
Excitement raced through Elain, pushing out any lingering feelings of frustrations with their situation. She was looking forward to time with Azriel and was going to relish every second they got to spend together, no matter the circumstances. 
When they pulled away, Elain was panting and she could feel her lips tingle from their kisses. 
“Tonight? Do you think?” Elain questioned breathlessly, her hair feeling too hot and heavy against her damp neck. 
Azriel’s eyes darkened as they looked at her. 
He shifted his hand to rub one thumb along her soft jaw. 
“Are you ready?” Azriel asked, and when Elain nodded her head Azriel swallowed loudly. “If you get too tired tonight and just want to sleep, then we can push it back. There’s absolutely no rush, Elain.” 
“I know,” Elain whispered and gently brought their lips together again in a brief kiss. “But I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you?” 
— —
For some reason Rosehall always smelled like Spring and Autumn, even in mid summer. Elain was sure it was some combination of the leaves from the thick forest and the wild roses that were found all throughout the grounds — it was one of her favorite smells. The kind of smell that always brought with it serenity. She could be sincere here away from the rest of the world. 
The large cabin was rustic and full of large windows, and a calmness filled Elain as soon as she stepped through the threshold holding her backpack. Azriel tried to steal it from her hands, but she wouldn’t let him. 
“I could live here,” Elain admitted, setting her bag down before plopping down on an old, puffy leather couch in the family room. She gazed at the large stone fireplace across her and wondered if she could convince Azriel to start a fire for her in the middle of summer. “Just you and me,” She raised herself up to peer over the back of the couch at him. “What do you say?” 
“Are we completely secluded, or can family come visit?” Azriel asked, unloading one of what looked like ten bags he was carrying from by the front door. He slowly walked across the wooden floor to her and placed his brown hands on either side of her from behind the couch. 
Elain lifted to her knees to get closer to him. 
“They can visit.” Elain stated, looking up at him. 
Azriel hummed in response and his lips uplifted into a soft smile. 
“Then I think we could make it happen, but I can’t promise your parents would be the best landlords.” 
Elain cringed and shook her head. 
“This is our fantasy, please don’t mention my parents.” 
“Sorry, babe.” 
Elain grinned and wound her arms around his neck. 
“I love it when you call me pet names, I hope you know that.” 
“You always look like you melt when I do it.” Azriel admitted, a blush dusting his cheeks. 
After a small pause Elain said, “Always? Even before we got together?” 
Azriel nodded in admittance and Elain gasped, softly slapping his chest. 
“That’s why you always called me names?” 
A guilty smile ate at Azriel’s lips. 
“Well, yes, but I really can’t be blamed for calling you beautiful, though. It’s a fact.” 
“What do you like that I do?” Elain asked, flushing. 
“I like it when you touch me,” Azriel said, and rolled his eyes at the look of Elain’s face. “Not like that, pervert, but when we’re sitting together and you reach for my hand. Or when you push my hair back. When you randomly hug me. Stuff like that.” 
“Oh,” Elain breathed, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed. “I was worried you might think I was clingy.” 
Azriel shook his head and said, “Never.” 
Elain bit her lip and played with the hair on the nape of his neck, running her fingers through his curls. 
“You know,” Elain said, wetting her lips. “We don’t have to wait for tonight to…” 
Azriel’s body stilled beneath her fingers. 
“I’m going to bring the food in from the car,” Azriel said slowly. Deliberately. “And you’re going to wait for me. In your room.” 
He leaned down to give her a hurried kiss before rushing out of the house. 
Elain felt giddy and grabbed her bag and ran up the steps. 
-------
tagging: @123moiaussi @fuckmelifesucks @thefangirlofhp @sakurakittypeach @nikethestatue @tswaney17 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq @duskwhisperer @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower @captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes  @magnolia-blossom87 @sheenabeene @nivem565  @casuallivi @rhysiedarling @elain99-blog @athena-85 @swankii-art-teacher @reverie-tales @jujugirlfrombookstore @shadowflorecita @shy-violet-soul @thisloveseternal
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I'm back!!!! This is my first time posting since the New Year and I hope everyone has had an amazing 2024!!! I went ghost mode in January to avoid HOFAS spoilers and work has been a different kind of intense lately, but I'm hoping to be much more active again :)
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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 6 months ago
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“I bet you can’t give the best gift!”
Those words have been stuck in Leona’s head for weeks. He and Ruggie have always been risk takers in their strange friendships. Bets, pranks, jokes, dares, all the kinds of ways they push the limits of normal friends to easily be called enemies give or take on the games or pranks they have set. For this week, Leona decided to be bold and tease his hyena friend about his little notebook full of step by step plans and inky scribbles of romance between him and his partner, opening the door of Ruggie’s return on the same level of teasing about his relationship with the Pomfiore housewarden Vil.
The lion beastman let out a tsk as his ears flick, his green eyes already tired as he listens to Professor Trein. Betting on who can give a better gift now? Seriously, how boring we become… He thought to himself. He glanced outside to the Class-C P.E. classmates running around the field by foot and by broom. Violet leggings zipped past the blue sky as a beautiful blond haired witch standing on his well groomed broom with a gleeful smirk, his golden and lavender hair swaying with the wind.
Leona and Vil have been dating for a while now, about two months to give an exact answer. It was thanks to another little bet between Ruggie and the housewarden of taking Vil to his favorite place back home the time Vil visited the Sunset Savannah without getting caught by royal guards, and sure enough by the night fall, under the stars, out of breath from running from security, the two grew closer. Vil was the one who decided to ask the prince out on a date two weeks after returning to Night Raven Collage, which Leona accepted rather happily even if he denies it this day.
Their relationship is new to say the least. . . Cuddles, kisses, dates, actually talking and understanding someone, being seen as more than how you’ve always been… Neither Leona nor Vil thought it was possible. For Leona he thought at the very least his family would choose someone for him and if not he may have not found anyone for a while, while for Vil he always assumed any relationship he had would be purely based on image and his works.
And now, Leona stands by the shop window of Sam’s Shop at the various items to give to anyone.
The prince sighs, his emerald eyes looking at the pretty wrapped boxes and the shiny chains of golden hearts or arrows or porcelain birds. None fit Vil. Leona’s tail flick to and fro as he eyes all the items. He could order something online, but no matter how rich he is it wouldn’t show up any time soon, therefore Ruggie would win their stupid bet.
Just as his ears began to lower his eyes flickered at a box. He slowly smiles as he stares at the velvet wine colored box.
——————————————— 
Ruggie walks down the halls of school, hands behind his back. Beside him is his dorm leader who walks more regularly than the shorter one.
The Savannaclaw students stopped by the courtyard where Leona made haste and went right to the Pomfiore dorm leader’s side. With a kiss of a pale cheek, the lion handed the box to Vil. Vil raised an eyebrow. “Hmm? What’s this?” He asked as he took the box in front of him. Leona smirks, “Just a little something.” Vil tugged the ribbon and looked at the item, a lovely golden comb with a bit of pearl outline and an ivory handle. His purple eyes flutter in awe, a smile coming onto his soft lips. “It’s beautiful. Thank you dear.” He said, turning his head just enough to give his boyfriend a sweet peck of his lips.
I won't be able to do every single day of the @leovilweek challenge since a lot of stuff is happening, but I will join in whenever I can!
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wackywacker2 · 5 months ago
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Tough Dominatrix Tickled
David considered himself to be quite the charismatic individual. His jet black hair styled in a short quiff, and his black stubble perfectly rested over his powerful jawline. He was, on all accounts, an attractive man.
But he had a secret. One known to absolutely nobody in his life, Even his best friends, with whom they share everything doesn't know about this one... He had a tickle fetish. He didn't really know why he hasn't told anyone, after all, his friends were very understanding, even admitting to various fetishes themselves. But deep down he was in fear of being ridiculed, or labelled as a creep. Regardless, he decided that today was the day he was to use his secrets to his advantage.
David went online and did a google search of 'Dominatrix for hire' and found a woman called Mistress Konstantina and she was absolutely stunning. Her long, ginger locks flowed down to her shoulders and her Leather Suit had fishnets on her stomach and legs which flaunted her Tattoos, But not too many tattoos, she didn't turn her body into an inky blob, just a Tattoo of the word 'DOM' on her toned abdomen and a snake that runs down her right leg. to her knee. David was speechless, she was just magnificent. And then he saw her welcome post...
"Hello you submissive cretins, I am Mistress Konstantina but you will refer to me only as 'mistress'. You are worthless and I will make you know that. Paying for me will give you the treatment you know you deserve. I have never done a video shoot but I will if you ask very nicely. Prices are $150 per hour, it is more expensive than other Doms but I am the best Dom around so I should expect you to pay the price"
'Wow, She's Arrogant' David thought to himself 'Even Better'. David knew what he wanted to do with Mistress Konstantina and sent an email to the address provided on the website that said:
"Hello my Mistress, I think you are very beautiful and would wish nothing more than to have myself be restrained and tickled mercilessly by you. I wish for you, Mistress, to tickle me for the whole day on the 21st of August at 161 Hamilton Avenue, starting from 11am and ending at 8pm and I wish, with your approval of course, to record the entire session. I am willing to pay $250 for you to arrive at my house, where I already have the stocks and camera ready to go. Thank you for this opportunity, Mistress."
He sent the Email with a grin on his face, Knowing that almost everything he wrote was a lie. He didn't have any stocks ready, He didn't have a camera ready, and, most Importantly, he was not going to be tickled by the Dominatrix...
The Dominatrix was going to be tickled by him.
David had always dreamed about tickling women, His first tickling fantasy was when he was 12 and was watching Kim Possible, thinking how wonderful it would be to capture a strong woman and tickle her until she was crying with laughter, and what better woman to do that to than a Dominatrix, women who are supposed to dominate others and make them submit, being tickled until they themselves submit.
The first thing David had to do was to buy the things he needed. He had decided to use his phone camera attached to a phone tripod he borrowed from his friend, and chose to drive out of town to buy the stocks from a bdsm shop, in fear of being found out if he went to the one in his town. He bought the stocks that would tie her arms out horizontally to her side, exposing her ribs and armpits, and that would lock her feet in place in front of her, with toe binds too, if necessary. The stocks were split into four separate pieces and put them into the back of his car, with the main piece just fitting in the trunk of the car, with the two arm pieces and the leg piece in the back seat. He drove home, imagining all the fun he will have on the 21st, Imagining where she is most ticklish, what her laugh sounds like and how she will react to the tickling.
When he got home, he checked his emails, and found a new, unopen email saying:
"I will be able to make it on the 21st, and you will be able to film, but considering you are asking so much of me, I think it is only fair if you pay $300, but we will work out the pay when I meet you."
'Perfect' David thought, Stage 1 was complete.
|-----------|
David woke up at 9am on Saturday, the 21st, the day he has been waiting for since he found Mistress Konstantina 5 days earlier. He spent an hour having breakfast, brushing his teeth and making himself look presentable, and like his charismatic self, and another hour making sure everything was in order for the Mistress' arrival. He had put the stocks back together, he had placed the various tools on a tray next to it. He hadn't set his phone onto the tripod yet, but he had a plan to do that while she was here. He was checking again, and again, and again until he heard:
*Knock*Knock*Knock*
This was it.
She was here.
David open the door and gazed at the beauty of the mistress, wearing exactly what was shown in the picture on her website. Her leather suit, with fishnets flaunting her legs and stomach. The leather piece on her chest stopped at her arms, so her armpits were also clearly visible when she raised her hands. She was also wearing black ankle high boots with heels that made her look much taller. Much more dominant, or so she thinks.
"Hi! Thanks for coming" David spoke clearly and confidently, trying to act likeable to the Mistress. He spoke with a smile on his face in order to ease the tension.
"Hello... David was it? that's what your email address said anyway"
"Yes it's David, I can't wait for what we're going to do today. It's been a while since I've been dominated". This was a just a well-told lie, David has never been dominated, but he wanted the Mistress to believe that he had done this before and so he was to be trusted for what he was going to do next. They chatted for a couple of minutes, about the Mistress' trip to his house, about the traffic when you go through the centre of town. They even bonded about their shared passion of tennis. Mistress Konstantina had now got her guard down, and started to talk to David as if he was a friend of hers, and not someone he was supposed to be dominating.
"The people who pay for me are so desperate" she went on "Like, some people are like 'Ooh mistwess, pwease spank me, pwetty pwease'. Some people have paid $500 just for a picture of my fuckin' foot". This is where David saw what she was really like, she was just using her dominant façade so that her customers would ridiculously overpay for her. She was arrogant and cocky and David wanted to break her, but it would take some tricking.
"So... have you ever been a sub?" David asked while putting his phone on the tripod.
"Oh no, never, that's not who I am, like... I'm just not that type of girl" She responded, whilst sitting on a chair next to him, without asking, mind you. There was a long silence after that, clearly things were getting awkward. David couldn't let that happen, he needed to keep the conversation going so that the Mistress would keep her guard lowered.
"Are you going to tickle me until I can't breathe" He asked while looking at her with his hypnotic, contagious smile on his face. The Mistress smiled back at him.
"Well if you're really ticklish" she giggled whilst saying "then you'll find it hard to breathe".
"Yeah I am... Are you?" David asked her, to which she lost her smile instantly and remarked sharply.
"Me? ticklish? God no, that wouldn't be right. I don't have an exploitable weakness like that, I'm a dominatrix." She responded, sounding offended that he would even ask.
"Of course, I'm sorry I asked" He proclaimed, trying to keep her at ease, so that she would be more inclined to do what he was about to ask.
"It's fine".
"Alright... all done, I just need your help with something" David confessed.
"With what?"
"I'm going to need you to act as a stand-in while I check everything works properly"
"You want me to... get in the stocks?" The Mistress wondered, with a concerned look in her eyes.
"Only for a second, so I can check what the camera will focus on and what the audio will pick up on. Once it's sorted out I'll get you out and it'll be my turn". He replied with a devilish grin on his face, which the Mistress put down to him talking about himself being tickled, which is why she agreed.
"Ok. But only for one minute" She responded to David with a stern look on her face before sitting on the cushioned seat of the stocks. She put her arms out in a T shape and David began strapping her arms to the chair.
"I've never been tied up before" Mistress Konstantina comments as David completes both arm straps and ties her waist into the chair.
"Really? Never"
"It's just not what I do". David completes the waist strap and moves on to her feet. He closes the foot portion of the stocks and locks it shut.
"I'm gonna need to take off your shoes" David said to the now tied up, completely helpless Mistress sitting vulnerably in front of him.
"What! Why?" She hissed, still acting as if she has any control of the situation, not realising that she, for the first time since she was a child, was not in control.
"I need to check that my feet will be in focus when I'm in the stocks, and your shoes are too close to the camera for me to be sure" David responded kindly, seeing how long he can trick this naïve dominatrix into getting willingly put into a position where she can be tickled for as long as he wants. He reminded himself how perfect it is that the Mistress has never done a video shoot before, and that if she knew how video shoots went, she never would have allowed herself to get into the position she is right now.
"Fine! but you are really pushing it now and when I get out of here, you're going to be in deep shit!". David nods his head sharply and starts taking off her shoes. Her feet were magnificent. David wasn't all that into the look of feet as much as he was tickling them but even he couldn't deny how soft looking her feet were, and how her pedicured toenails looked
excellent coloured black. David took it upon himself to push her feet back and wrap her big toes in the toe binds.
"Woah! What do you think you're doing???" The Mistress roared at David, her eyes piercing him like an icicle.
"Just putting your feet where my feet will be when you tickle me" He responds calmly, adding the idea of her tickling him to put her mind at ease, reminding her why she is doing this. He puts each toe in one of the toe binds and steps back to admire his work. He'd done it. He'd managed to trick a dominatrix into getting tied up and trapped in a set of stocks.
"Ok, now to test the audio, wiggle your arms please" She did so, finding it very difficult to do.
"Now your waist" She attempted to move her waist, but realising that she couldn't lift her waist further than an inch.
"And finally, your feet" Trying to move her feet, she found them completely immobile, with not a centimetre of slack on the toe binds.
"Great, and now I'll check the focus". He puts hand in between the camera and the Mistress' feet, moving his hand forwards and backwards and then touches her foot with his fingers, and starts tracing his fingers up and down the sole of her left foot causing her to gasp.
"Hehey! what are you doing now?" she asks, a slight giggle escapes her lips as she spoke.
"Oh I'm sorry, I thought you weren't ticklish" He says, staring directly into the cold eyes of Mistress Konstantina, a mischievous grin on his face, which is when she realised the reality of the situation
"YOU TRICKED ME!"
"Yep"
"FUCK YOU"
"don't be so rude Konstantina, after all, I'm the one in control" He slyly responded, as he scrapes his nails down the vulnerable mistress' whole left foot.
"GRRRRRHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHASTOHOHOHOPPEPHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" she squealed as David's nails dug into her soles
"You said you weren't ticklish, you lied to me, as a dominatrix you should know the punishment" He teased as he uses his other hand to tickle both feet at the same time
"No, no no no no pleEEEEEEHESEHEHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHANOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOFUHUHUHUHUCKYOUHUHUHUHUHUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA" She screamed as she tries as hard as she can to move her feet, but to no avail as the toe binds are keeping her foot completely immobile.
David pauses the tickling for a brief moment, before moving his tray of tools next to him and Konstantina's feet, he took of the electric flossers and turned them on.
"I want you to tell me how ticklish you are"
"FUCK YOU" She barked
"Still arrogant, we'll have to change that" David joked as he pressed the electric flossers in between the big toe and second toe of both feet, causing the Mistress to go into a ticklish frenzy
"NOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHASTOPITPLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
"Tell me how ticklish you are" He moved the electric flossers in between her other toes and on the balls of her feet.
"AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAIHIHIHIHIHIHMMVEREHEHEHEHEHEHEYEEHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHATIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLIHIHIHIHIHIHSHHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHANOWPLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEASESTOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOPEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
"Ok". David stops tickling her feet and stands up, puts the electric flossers back on the tray and looks into the eyes of his 'mistress', who now look less cold and more defeated and concerned.
"I'll stop tickling your feet, thank me"
"What?"
"Thank me for stopping or I'll bring out the hairbrush"
"Thank you" She responds almost instantly.
"You're welcome" He teased as he knelt next to her stomach.
"W-what are you doing?" The Mistress whimpered
"I said I'd stop tickling your feet, I didn't say I'd stop tickling you all together" David remarked while bringing his hands towards her sides.
"P-please, what do you want? I-I have money, you want money?" The dominatrix begs, an odd turn of events considering her job.
"No, what I want is to make tough girls like you a blubbering, giggling mess" He beamed as he quickly and erratically squeezed her sides, causing her to buck as much as she could
"NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOIMBEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEGGINGYOUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUHJUSTSTOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOPEHEHEHEHEHEPLEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHEHEHEASEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHVEMEHEHEHEHEHRCYHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
"You are begging, but I've not truly broken you yet". David grabs one of the electric flossers back from the tray and sticks it into her belly button, but doesn't turn it on.
"NO! PLEASE!" The Mistress spouted, A look of genuine fear glistening in her eyes.
"Awww, somebody must have a very ticklish belly button" David cooes. He turns on the electric flosser and Konstantina falls into a fit of intensely ticklish agony.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAANOOOOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
Tears were strolling down Konstantina's face, her make-up ruined and black streaks of eyeliner came careening down her face, she had never been tickled like this before, she would never allow it to happen because she was always the dominant one. Now, feeling embarrassed after getting tricked into being strapped into a pair of stocks, she was longing for the torture to be over.
"My My!" David hooted "Look at the time! Its only 3pm, that means I have you for 5 more hours before people might start to get concerned about your whereabouts. And you better not think about telling anybody about this, because I have the video" He turned around the tripod to reveal the phone with around 4 hours of footage, clearly the footage of her being tricked and tickled. She bowed her head in defeat, she knew if she told anyone her career would be over, she wouldn't be earning thousands of dollars a month from dominating if anyone found out.
"Well lets move on" As he spoke he lunged his hands into Konstantina's smooth armpits, catching her off guard and sending her into another ticklish frenzy.
"AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHWHYHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAJUHUHUHUHUHUHSTAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAPAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
"For someone who is supposed to be tough and dominant, you are super ticklish and weak, aren't you?"
She didn't respond, just bowed her head in shame. David quickly tickled her armpits, causing her to yelp.
"Aren't you" David snapped.
"yes" Konstantina whimpered, her head remaining locked downwards, towards her stomach, Her curly, ginger locks drooping down over her face.
David stared at her for a few seconds, then went to the tray and got a new electric flosser, two electric toothbrushes, two vibrating hairbrushes, and a roll of tape. He strapped an electric toothbrush to each armpit, a vibrating hairbrush to each foot, and the electric flosser to her belly button, all with no resistance from Konstantina, whose head remained in the same position as before.
"I'm going to turn all of these on, and I will release you when all of these run out of charge, or it reaches 8pm, whichever happens first. You have no say in the matter, so don't beg, or I'll come over and use my hands to tickle you as well. Understand?"
The mistress slowly and slightly nods her head in agreement.
"Good" He beamed as he turned on each device.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"
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97keanu · 2 years ago
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Neo x goth hacker!reader
***read the revised edition here
Premise: The year is 1999, you are a hacker who has been keeping up with another local hacker in the area called "Neo". He's been stealing all your clients lately, and thats a no go for you. As you dig deeper you begin to be interested in the work he does, so you decide to reach out and see if you can meet up. Cue Neo being a nerdy, but somehow cocky, computer hacker who's never had a girlfriend and finds himself being nervous to meet a pretty girl online. (No matrix, Pre First Movie AU where the events of the matrix never happened.)
Tags: small enemies to lovers, red string of fate, themes of loneliness/touch starved(especially Neo), slow burn, multichapter, goth!reader, nerdy!Neo, virgin!Neo. Eventual Smut in coming will contain: aggressive sex, age difference (23/35), aftercare, dominance and submission, restraints, potentially bdsm/choking/slapping/spanking.
A/N: This took so long y'all, please let me know if you like it! It would mean a lot :)
Read part two here! Read part three here!
You sit in your bedroom, your computers basking you in a green glow. You are wearing very little, it's a hot summer night for Chicago, and the window and fan you have running do little to help. It's late, well past midnight. You should be sleeping but something has been bothering you lately.
Your typical clients, who come to you for illegal information that you've hacked from the government, haven't been coming in. In fact, you're getting more small time stuff than ever, faked ID requests, fake official reports for god knows what with these people, and the last straw was today, when you were asked if you could illegally pirate a DVD for some teen.
"Really? Back to burned DVDS?" You had thought to yourself. It was almost laughable if it wasn't for the fact that without the bigger time jobs your rent wasn't getting paid. And there was no way you were going to get a real corporate job like the rest of the early 20 somethings your age.
You had asked your closest client over IM earlier tonight. And what he gave back to you, was a name.
[Neo] The screen had read back to you, as if taunting you with the existence him.
Well...if this "Neo" guy was taking all your clientele, then you were going to look into him. You worked too hard for your hacker prestige to be brought back down to pirating soft core porn for any local sleeze ball. No...you were going to find this guy and confront him.
So that's why you've been working tirelessly these past four hours, hunting down any trace of "Neo" online. You haven't found much yet, but you can feel yourself getting closer. The more false leads you eliminate, the more the real one will stick out when you see it. You rub your eyes until you see inky little stars and after you pull up your long black hair into a pony tail so that it's off your neck in this heat. That's one thing you hated about summer the most. The heat. It left you little black options to wear, and that consisted of your entire wardrobe being almost unbearable. No, right now you were stuck with a black tank top and no pants just to survive.
You take a moment to gaze out your small apartment window, just to get away from the glow of the computers for a second. The Chicago skyline greets you as you open up the window enough to straddle a leg out of it. The night air helps, and a cool breeze blows on your sweaty skin. You need this. Just a moment to yourself before you get back to it. You pull out a cigarette and light up the end with a faint red glow.
As you gaze out, you see other little apartments in the area. Your apartment is high enough up that you have a great view of all the dazzling lights of the city. One perk of the shithole you live in. You sigh out a puff of smoke, and think of all the tiny white flecks of windows. Some of the closer ones you can see into better. You can see from here a kitchen window of an older couple making dinner, someone's living room with a blue gash of flickering images passing by. Your eye catches on an apartment somewhat like your own, a greem glow with their own computers, the owner sleeping softly at their desk. You wonder where all their lives will go when you look away. Do they cease to exist because your gaze does not fall upon them...? No...you know logically it doesn't work like that, but it sure does feel like it. You don't think you've known a true friend that you've kept up with in years. Just you and your computers...
You finish your cigarette break, and find your way back inside your bedroom, popping Wish by The Cure into your walkman, ready to plug back in and search for the fucker stealing all your jobs.
It's a few hours still till you find it. There it is, a sloppy job this 'Neo' must have done at some point. He left behind some evidence and here you are finding it like a fingerprint at a crime seen. After you find something Neo must have gotten his hands onto, and see it there. His IP address was left behind. Now it's time to have some fun...
You begin to run your own home grown line of code. Its intricate, a bit unstable, but it will do. You get access to a lot of his computer files, but most importanty the IM app he uses to message. You're also surprised to find a photo of him as youre searching around. Or what you assume is his face. You can't help it, but when you see him, you think he looks sort of cute. A part of you curdles at the thought of finding the enemy cute, but its the truth. He has big brown puppy dog eyes, you've always been a sucker for eyes like his. You catch yourself blushing and force your mind to stay on task, not all the features that make his face soft.
You get back to working with your program. If this works correctly it would give you an in to talk to him. You can use this program to help you hack right into Neo's friend list and send him an IM. You grab a coke from your mini fridge and get to work, the cool, bubbly liquid waking you up enough to finish the task.
Finally, after what seems like ages, you're in. You send Neo a message, leaving your typical dorky screen name on. Its not your real name anyways so it doesn't matter.
[NightShade]: I hear you've been stealing all my clients, Neo...
You think for a moment, wondering what exactly you should say first, but this seems good as anything. You're worried because he was so hard to find, he might just ignore or block you. Doesn't hurt to try, so you press send and lean back in your chair, somewhat proud of the night you've had.
As you wait, you begin to think the other hacker is likely asleep. You sigh, sleep coming to claim your eyes just as well, so you decide to get up and take a shower. It'll help with how hot it is too, you determine with a nod of self assurance as you hop up out of your chair.
You are attending to a bit of self care in the cool shower, when you hear a ping! You don't think you've ever scrambled out of the shower so fast.
You attempt not to slip on the titles as you rush out, and find yourself padding with wet hair to computer chair in nothing but a black towel. You feel too nervous to look, what if he doesn't want to talk to you? You did come on strong with your first message, accusing him of stealing your clients and all...
[Neo]: Who are you? How did you message me?
The computer reads you as sit, wondering how to respond. It is a strange predicament in general, you suppose, but you're not backing down now. You pause and consider how to reply, but a part of your heart beats with happiness that he responded at all.
[NightShade]: You're not the only hacker in town you know, and word is that most of my return customers have been coming to you lately.
You sit back and bite your lip, you know you're confronting him and all, but really, what is the end goal...is it just to say you tried? Is it to win him over? Beg him to stay out your side of the business...you're not sure. You feel this strange pull to him regardless.
[Neo]: So, in retaliation you've taken it upon yourself to contact me and complain?
He's right, maybe this whole thing is childish. Maybe you're childish, despite being 23 and trying to make it as a big time hacker like the rest of them. You can't help as the late night anxiety whittles on...
[NightShade]: Well, if I could find you within the night, who's to say the government couldn't? Why don't we create something here that helps us both...
You're not even sure what you're getting at, but you don't want him to log off. You watch, waiting for him to type again...
[Neo]: And what would you suggest?
"Shit..." You mumble to yourself and find your hand is nervously rubbing at your thin eyebrow hair. You've been trying to quit that, but nervous ticks are hard to kick.
"Alright, we gotta be smart here. If we propose something stupid he's going to realize I'm just a young, dumb girl who knows a bit of hacking. Nothing special..." You often find yourself speaking out plans, there's no one better to talk to at your disposal so might as well.
You consider your options. Should you ask him to divide up turf? Divide up clients? You highly doubt that would impress or please him. No, but maybe you could offer something else...
You begin working on the computer, and checking Neo's connection. He was terribly hard to find for those few hours but honestly, it wouldn't take the government long to find him if you could. Not to mention, as you look, he has all sorts of back doors to controlling his computer. You browse a few files and find yourself nodding and smirking as you see a folder full of goth girl porn. Seems he has type...you aren't sure if it helps or hurts that you dress similar to the cyber girls in his computer.
Ultimately, he might be good at getting the info for the clients, but he is shoddy at best at keeping his own ass covered. You get back to the IM window and type...
[NightShade]: I know you must obviously be good at getting info for clients, or else they wouldn't leave me to come to you. However, you don't keep yourself safe enough out here. Like I said, I found you in a few hours. And I can clearly see into your files you have hidden right now, such as some extremely saucy pictures of girls in black leather...I can help you fix that...If you're willing.
You hit send and feel a chill run down your back despite the heat. Will he be receptive? You have no idea. Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned finding his porn folder so easily.
Quite a few minutes pass before you hear a response, and you were starting to believe he was surely beginning to block you. That sweet sound of your computer pinging steps you out of your thoughts quickly.
[Neo]: So...you found my weakness...and you propose to help. What's in it for you?
"Yes!" You think, feeling like pumping the air. "He didn't say no!"
[NightShade]: We stop splitting clients, we work on the hacks together and I keep your ass from ending up being tracked down again. Divide the profits accordingly.
This time, you get no response. In fact, you sit at your computer for another hour before dragging your tired body to you tiny, disheveled bed. You leave your computer on, awaiting the signature ping just incase. As you lie in bed, you turn so you can see outside the large window beside your dark enclave of a mattress that holds you. As you gaze out at the city once more, you can't help but feel drawn to that other apartment. It's green glow blinks every so often, as it the sleeping stranger was stirring before the window. Pacing, perhaps like your mind does as you drift off.
✧✧✧
Thomas Anderson, better known as 'Neo' to most of the world he gets little socialization with, is half drooling on his desk when he hears that persistent ping! of his computer. Groggy and tired he opens his eyes, the green glow of his computer the only source of light in his tiny dark room. As his eyes adjust, he let's his pale hands rub sleep from his eyes just to solidify that he's awoken. A light layer of sweat glistens from the computer light, and tries to wipe some of that too, not that it helps.
He groans a little as he pulls up the nagging chat window that's blinking for attention. Probably some client that wants this or that, ASAP as always with these people.
His sharp brows furrow as he sees a name he doesn't recognize.
"NightShade?" He talks aloud to himself, only his ears around to hear anyways in his little apartment. He is surprised this person was able to get onto his friend list, he thought he ran a pretty tight ship over here, but maybe the extra shifts at his day job were making him sloppy. He finds himself sitting in a bit of disbelief before responding to their claim of "client stealing" as they put it.
"I mean, who does this person think they are?" He scoffs into the dark, humid night air. His sweaty fingers tap along a response questioning who the identity of this 'NightShade' character is. He's surprised when they respond almost immediately, claiming to be a fellow hacker.
"Sure..." He rolls his eyes to no one as he takes the situation in. "Probably some petty kid mad that their clients found a real hacker for their needs." He reaches over and pulls a cigarette out of a discarded box on his messy desk. He pops it loosely into his mouth, half for the comfort at the moment. He's not ready to light up, just yet.
The other hacker responds, supposedly finding Neo's IP and computer just within a few hours. He'll double that for their sake, not really believing his rig is THAT easily infiltrated. But they do make a good point...if he is seeing this message at all, who's to say who else could get in?
Neo is intrigued to say the least, he wipes his sweaty palms on his dark sweatpants and responds, asking what the other party has in mind then.
"This should be interesting..." His voice is husky with sleep and an overall tiredness that seems to permeate his entirety. The other hacker takes a moment to respond, so Neo rolls his desk chair to the nearby window. He cracks it and light his cigarette finally, looking out to the cityscape.
He watches a plane lazily draw across the sky like a star blinking in and out of existence, and he wonders how despite his business of being a hacker having been so solitary he has found himself seemingly intrigued by this supposed other hacker. His eyes drift across the city apartments, and he doesn't notice his pause on another green glowing apartment across the way at first. He let's a long drag of smoke billow out the window as he focuses on it more.
From here he can see a tiny form of a girl, and he actually blushes as he realizes they're in nothing but a towel. He hasn't seen a real life woman in such a vulnerable state in a while. He takes another drag as he sighs out the smoke to the thought that he's been more than a while...
He doesn't take his eyes away though, he knows he's safe for looking at this distance anyways, so he watches as the young woman is seemingly typing on her own computer. Its not uncommon as a pass time anymore, more and more people are starting to use this new 'internet' thing, after all.
Still, he wonders for a moment how she feels. Is she as lonely as he is in his tiny room, typing, typing away all night long. Does she like the people she types to? Neo rarely does.
He watches her until he hears another ping, tearing his eyes away and stubbing out the cigarette on the window sill.
He rotates back to his computer to see the other hackers message, and laughs out loud at the fact that they seemingly found his porn folder. Its less unnerving than the other party probably thinks, its likely they believe Neo to be had in this scenario. In a strange turn of events, he's finding himself feeling a rush over the whole thing, with a twinge of nerves since they do after all, seem to be able to see into his whole system here.
Its a strange feeling for him, he hasn't felt so naked in such a way for so long. Its as if someone has walked into his room while he was undressing, but instead of fear, he feels a rush of endorphins. Its almost voyeuristic, and he has to laugh at that thought too.
"Alright, so they can see into my computer," he speaks, as his mind begins to race, considering all the possibilities here. He might as well see what they have in mind to do about this, so he responds.
He is utterly surprised at their proposal for teamwork, however. Somehow this makes him recoil. The thought of working with another in such away. He has been alone in this for as long as he can remember...
He bites his lip as he considers how much they've seen of him so far. Its only fair that he can take a look as well...
Neo disregards the other hackers message for now and immediately goes to work. Since they've been messaging him and all, its pretty easy for him to worm his way into finding their computer. The hard part is getting in. It actually takes him much longer than he expects and when he does get in, its very tip of the iceberg. In fact, he's utterly surprised that all he can find at first is normie information like what movies this guy watches and some music tastes. He ends up down the rabbit hole for a few hours before he sees something that freezes him.
A profile picture for an online goth community. He can only assume its the other hacker, and what he knows now is that NightShade is a woman, an exceptionally attractive woman at that.
He can't explain it, but seeing her image has struck him. Something about her is absolutely engrossing. He finds himself leaning closer to the screen, until he can pick out the pixels beginning to form. His heart skips a beat or two as he realizes he's enamored...
He pulls back, looks away.
"Get a hold of yourself, its just some girl, you could see another on the street whenever you want." he speaks in a whisper as he leaves his chair and begins to pace his tiny room.
Why? Why is knowing she's a beautiful woman, who's exactly his type, complicating this? Is he really that touch starved that he's like some highschool boy after seeing his crush in the hallway. No...he's a 35 year old man here, he should be having these strange feelings.
And with this surge of emotion out of him plus his penance for working alone, he can't seem to find anyway of a team effort working out between them. He starts a few times from pacing to go back to his desk and reply that he is uninterested, but he can't seem to finish the task.
Neo finds himself sitting on this thought all night and more, your face left in a browser on his computer...
✧✧✧
It's been a week since you messaged Neo, and after the first day or so, your heart felt heavy. You know it really isn't that deep, but the rejection took a hit on you. You started agreeing to CD burns and mix tapes on the fourth day, you feel so down and strapped for cash. You actively seek out reasons to leave your room because it beats sitting around for a reply that won't come, as well as all the lack of work you've been having.
Tonight, you drag home some Chinese take out, walking up the steps of your apartment building as if your legs are made of sludge. By the time you throw yourself into your apartment, you can barely muster the energy to eat. You store most of the food away for tomorrow, but keep the crab rangoons, those don't heat up very nice after all.
You set up at your desk, working on getting ahold of some test answers for some highschool when it happens. The noise startles you enough that the crab rangoon hanging out of your mouth hits your desk. You quickly change tabs and can't even stop yourself from looking immediately.
[Neo]: I'm in. But I think we should meet in person to go over this.
You have no idea if you should fake that you've seen it, or reply straight away. You know that he might think you were waiting on him this whole time if you reply too fast, so you force yourself to finish eating while you sit and stare at the green glow of the screen with a fervor to reply.
Just when you think you can't finish the last bite fast enough, you thrust your greasy fingers to the keys.
[NightShade]: Alright, but I say when and where.
You're so much cooler through the computer, he has no idea that you're over here gushing because you know he's cute and likes to hack too. It's ridiculous, you find yourself ridiculing inwards.
[Neo]: Deal, your choice.
You think for a moment, in disbelief that he really means it. You decide to point him to the local goth club you frequent, Club Hel. You are a member there, so you have a private booth you two can talk in. You let him know where to go and who to ask for. You decide, fuck it, tomorrow can't come soon enough so might as well do it then. You go over the details and the two of you are seemingly on the same page. You stop replying this time first to get the upper hand, even though you're pretty sure the concept is childish in nature.
It's been a long day so you plop on a Deftones tee and hop into bed. Strangely enough, your dreams are filled with soft brown eyes and computer code...
✧✧✧
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hey okay uhm firstly LOVE your writing, super messed up <3 secondly. so you're into horror. you're like super into horror right. please i am begging you (and your followers, if you choose to publish this) to help me find a horror story i read online at some point in recent years, but that i've forgotten the title and author of because i have. como se dice. Memory Issues.
i read it on the website of the author who published a TON of their horror short stories online. i read other stories on their site but only remember the one. things i remember about the story i read:
it takes place in space, on a ship, and the big mystery/horror is that there's ships with entire crews that slowly wind up hallucinating, and then violently snapping and/or going catatonic. once catatonic the only thing these people sometimes do is start thumping their fists all at the same time. this phenomenon starts happening to the main character's crew. the main character (captain? iirc) starts experiencing hallucinations of inky black splotches on the walls. something calling for them to come in. it is warm and safe here. when they eventually reach into the splotches it is indeed warm, as if alive. less and less crew is functioning, and eventually they realize the ship has become alive and it has a "heart" and someone needs to fuse with it to...keep the ship going? keep the madness at bay? fuzzy here. i remember there being subplots about a mentor figure(?) of the main character dying to the same phenomenon and certain people being able to resist it longer.
that was long but i'm dumping as much detail as i can remember in hopes any of this rings a bell with anyone. this is killing me i can't find it in my browser history or through web search or on tumblr (i originally found the story through a recommendation post). this is going to haunt me until i find it again and while i love horror i'd prefer to be haunted by something sexier than "i forgor"
thank you in advance to you or anyone who knows what in the goddamn i'm talking about.
Does anyone know this?
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mikomikomadness · 8 months ago
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Introduction ⏻
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Heya, the name’s Miko, but you can also call me J, and welcome to my blog of utter nonsense!
Quick disclaimer: beyond this point you’ll find a bunch of nonsense and art related to random fandoms burried among all the reblogs. Seriously, nothing here is going to be completely comprehensible it is utter multifandom madness.
Also, if I follow you or like a post or send an ask, due to how Tumblr works it’ll always be under the user @askdon-chan. It’s still me though!
DNI: Racists, sexists, homophobes, transphobes, aphobes, basically if you hate a group because of a certain trait they all have I’d prefer you don’t speak to me. I’m also not too fond of people who ship adult x child or sibling x sibling relationships.
With that out of the way, additional things are under the cut!
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More about me!!!
➜ Minor (please let this be obvious)
➤ She/Her
➜ Aroace
➤ Artist, and writer, and sort of able to make music
Where else to find me?
On my other Tumblr blogs! I own these blogs:
❥ @askdon-chan (Don Wada ask blog [Taiko No Tatsujin])
❧ @righteousoutlawcookie (Rebel Cookie ask blog [Cookie Run])
❥ @techdifficultygirl (Tamee Dime ask blog [OC])
❧ @gumballsandgadgets (platonic selfship blog)
❥ @inthisfuntime and @sunnydaysandsongs (Mr. Fun Computer and Mr. Sun ask blogs [Sprunki])
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Some of my pals!
⍟ My (online) dad Inky!!!: @theinkbunny
✪ My (online) siblings!!!: @s4gefr0g, @sharky-the-idiot, @r0und-4b0ut, @unfortunately-i-exist
⍟ My (online platonic) wife Marie!!!!!!!: @sshhitlucashere
✪ The Lilarky crew!: @sharky-the-idiot, @lilacthebooklover, @whale-the-genius, @theinkbunny, @charismabee, @weltato, @incredibly-tired-icecube, and of course the lore collecter @lilarkylore (By the way, for any and all interested, I am the (self proclaimed) Hyperfixation Deity of the Lilarky fandom!)
⍟ Taiko Buddies!!: @0n1-m0nst3r, @gooffrenzy
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Credits!
☀︎︎ @dropletknightss for providing the PFP mask
☼ @puppizai for providing the divider
☀︎︎ @engravedlives and @e-resources for the stamps!
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Miko’s Hyperfixation Board! (What is Miko specifically focused on this time???) ✧
Miko’s main hyperfixation right now is...
5 words. Retro characters in Smash Bros. She loves the 80s-
The board updates everytime my blog theme changes! Come back here when that happens! ✵
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⏻ ’Til next time, everyone!
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inky-rambles · 4 months ago
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my blog intro :3
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about me (I edit this regularly so it’s accurate 💞)↴
I'm inky
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(why did it format so large help)
+
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(pronoun/term thingy heree)
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about mee ↴
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I FUCKING HATE THE MULTIVERSE THEORY, THERE ARE TOO MANY PARADOXES AND IT GETS REALLY CONFUSING AND ELABORATE WHEN U THINK TOO HARD ABOUT IT, SO DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THAT SHIT BCZ I CBA TYPING OUT A WHOLE HATE FULED ESSAY RESPONCE ABOUT HOW ALL OF THE DIFFERENT NUANCES AND WEIRD RULES THAT WOULD COME INTO PLAY IF YOU THINK ABOUT IT PAST THE SURFACE LEVEL OF "oooo a world where [fictional character] is real...".
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I love my gf <33
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music addict
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scared of talking to ppl on here coz I always think I'm bothering them :')
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big etymology nerd plus very much a "erm that's not how that word should be used/that's spelt wrong" person
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I love sapphic romance novels
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artist (I rarely post my art on here tho)
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I fucking love blinkies as u can tell
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my fandoms!! (my ships are here !)
main fandoms↴
gravity falls
omori
inside job
sanrio
sELF (💕)
mitski
mouthwashing
charborg
and again, gravity falls bcz I wont stfu about it rn
other fandoms I'm in but aren't one of my current obsessions↴
tbhk
chainsaw man
slime rancher
osemanverse
sally face
fnaf
faith the unholy trinity
dead plate
birthdays of the beginning
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I love my mutals so plz moot me <333
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DNI LIST ↴
basic dni
proshippers (STANCEST SHIPPERS GET OUTTTT I HATE YOU GUYS)
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ALSO ANNOYING ASS BITCHES WHO CALL LITERALLY EVERYTHING A PROSHIP AND SAY "ohh if u ship *insert ship with INTERESTING AND FUN dynamic that isn't super healthy* is a proship and ur disgusting if u ship it" like sorry I don't want to ship "two sweet baby perfect cute cinnamon roll characters who are perfect for eachother and love eachother so much uwu" like let me enjoy toxic billford >:(
chronicly online people/hj
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socials ↴
I love writing and post on ao3 when I'm not reading on there, my account is @ inkyizcool if you want to check me out, and im also on tiktok @ ink._sta1n
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ANYWAYS INKY OUT <33
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circular-bircular · 10 months ago
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Why do you use parts language? I’m not trying to be mean but it feels really weird to see someone call themselves less than a person. Like I’m watching someone hurt themselves. I want to understand more.
I really love puzzles. I have a 1000 piece puzzle of the night sky that I’m going to be doing soon (hopefully). It’s pretty difficult; a lot of the pieces look the same. But if I look closely, I can see the very, very minute differences. And of course, some are very different — a big bright star versus a black inky sky.
I like to put puzzles together. I like the relaxation that I feel from finding the way to make it form something more — something bigger than it was before. It can be frustrating at times, yes, and I sometimes need to step away from the puzzle and leave the pieces to rest, but in time, I’ll always return and work on finding those connections again.
My goal is to one day put all of those pieces together to form a bigger picture. But I’m not like those people who glue it down or frame the completed puzzle on the wall; I usually take a picture of completed puzzles. I don’t personally want to take those pieces and fuse them together; I just choose to appreciate how those pieces can fit together.
I’m mostly grateful this is a new puzzle. I know there’s no pieces missing. There’s nothing more heartbreaking to me when I am almost done a puzzle and discover that a piece is missing. That’s because the pieces are just as important as the big picture; each one holds so much value, and without those pieces, the picture just isn’t complete.
I don’t understand how anyone could look at those pieces and deem any of them less important.
… does that make sense?
I know that was esoteric, and I want to leave that post at just that, but I’m also autistic and understand how extended metaphors can sometimes muddy the waters.
Firstly; your system isn’t mine. I’ve found great healing from using parts language, but if it discomforts you so much, it might be a good idea to just block that terminology on tumblr! What works for me might not work for you.
Secondly; I’m not less than a person simply due to being a part. I’m just as valuable — maybe even more so, in my eyes — than a single person. My value as a part doesn’t dip in any way simply because I am a part. I’m still just as worthy of respect, love, and joy as any other person out there.
Thirdly; I also use it/its pronouns at times, and I’ve found people are uncomfortable with that for similar reasons. I use them because I have a large disconnect from myself, and (particularly while online), I feel more like an object than a person. That is very, very particularly a dissociative thing, and is SPECIFICALLY dehumanizing myself — but it’s also not hurting me. It’s something that brings me gender euphoria (again, just in specific instances) and grounds me to reality. And that really circles into point 4:
It’s not hurting me. I am so, so happy to have parts language. If you’re curious, I use the tag “#parts language my beloved” a lot for posts about why parts language works for me. It’s helped so much. And that’s why I use it; it helps me.
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mossdaggar · 2 years ago
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HELLWHALERS!
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An indie TTRPG of nautical and Christian religious horror. Play as damned whalers, set upon the seas of hell, hunting a monstrous leviathan in a bid for redemption. Gamble with souls, discover the horrors of hell’s oceans, and fight a demon whale.
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Features bespoke linocut work by Albert Johnson and Charles Torok, as well as public domain depictions of demons and sea monsters, curated and laid out by Kaye Mahoney, this will be a gorgeous collectible for any fans of its themes.
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The game itself uses tokens in a Belonging Outside Belonging style, but allows players to gamble tokens on a dice metagame. With a digital board by Tony Girard, online gameplay is as hellishly beautiful as it is in-person.
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Guiding the whalers is the captain, a foul tempered figure who might just be the devil himself. The gm takes the role and leads players on the hunt for the hellwhale. Includes a playbook for the gm to use the captain to best effect.
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Within the captain’s quarters is the hellwhale’s disembodied heart. The black, rotting muscle sits silent, but awaits the moment you’ll feed enough souls through its arteries to call the hellwhale by its own slow heartbeat.
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Expect tons more content, like blessings and curses, hellish locales, gnarly items to dredge from the inky deep, a multitude of six-segmented storylines, several possible epilogues, and more, largely written by the talented BogusCheesecake. HELLWHALERS is coming this Summer.  It’s drawing close. See you in hell.
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