#call you Inky online

[creepyscritches]

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

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [Snippet] 🔞

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 🥳

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"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.

[who-is-page]

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.

[fawnandshadows]

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 :)

[feyhunter78]

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 father, 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 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

[katsukikitten]

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 ~

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.”

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

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?

[circular-bircular]

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.

[mossdaggar]

HELLWHALERS!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

[97keanu]

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...

✧✧✧

[g4l4xy-qu33n]

Hi hello I saw your ask where you showed Inky your printed copy of DWM and I need to know how you did that n o w. I want to do this for both my own fics and my fave ones by other authors. Obviously I have to finish writing my fics first but this is very motivating.

OMG?! SILCOITUS??? MY OTHER FAVOURITE SILCO FIC WRITER????? (next to Inky ofc) TALKING TO ME???

Excuse me I gotta go freak tf out

Anyway,

How I printed DWM

just a warning, this is gonna be kinda long

Well, the first thing I did was transfer the fic itself onto an a5 word document! (a google doc would work as well; pretty much anything that you can write on that can be set to a5, or a custom paper size if you want)

Then after copy-pasting the entire fic, I set the margins to 20mm for the top and both sides, and 25mm on the bottom, then added a page number at the bottom using the add page numbers feature. (You can manually type them if you really want to, but DWM was 599 pages long soooo)

I used the font Garamond set on size 11.5, with the chapter headings being size 12 btw

Then I scrolled through the whole document to check for any spacing errors. I also moved the start of every chapter onto a new page (just pressed enter a bunch until it moved down onto a new page-)

After that, I found some art that I would like to use for the cover page, then put text onto that art using a website called Canva (I’m Australian, and this website may not be available to you. Some alternatives are: Procreate, Photoshop, Ibis Paint, or literally anything that you can use to add text on top of an image that can be set to a5, or your chosen page size; make sure that the covers are the same size as the actual pages with the writing on them)

Then I designed the covers, and put the fanfic description on the back to use as the blurb.

I downloaded the covers next and put them at the start and end of the word doc with the actual fanfic on it. Some printing companies may not want the covers as a part of the main document tho so keep that in mind.

Then I created the spine, but I had no idea of the width needed, since I didn't know how thick 599 pages would be. (The website/company I used to print it out automatically sized the spine to be the right width-)

I also wrote out a disclaimer for the publishing/copyright page, but it's not necessary at all, I just didn't exactly feel like getting sued.

Then after I finished allll of that, I found a website/company that would print it out for me, called ePrint Online, but thats an Australian website so it may not ship to where you are? I'm sure there are alternatives to the website in your country tho. (unless you're an Australian)

If you want to, you can print and bind the book yourself, but the spine may not be perfect.

TLDR; I copy pasted the fic onto an a5 word doc then designed covers then used a printing website to print it out :)

hope that makes sense, and sorry if you didn't want it in that much detail, the autism told me to write it out in full for you <3

[cavernfullofexistentialdread]

OK HERE WE GO LIST ON WHY EX WIVES IS THE BEST THING TO EVER <3

It instantly tells you what to expect. Bunch of amazing women with insane vocal ranges and the energy of a Taylor Swift concert.

Amazing composing

The use of motifs, every single verse with the queens saying lines in order has the green sleeves melody snuck into there

Great symbolism with said motif! We are quite literally forced to hear it even if the situation doesn’t particularly call for it

EBM GREENSLEVES MY BELOVED <333333

The use of the different vocal ranges overlapping in the “Wives” and the first sung note in musical is just ✨chefs kiss🤏✨

“All you ever hear and read about!” RAW LINE. RAW. OMFG YES

All of K Howard’s lines. That’s the entire bullet point.

Great introduction to the queens! The problem with Uranium Suite and Fall Fair Suite is that Uranium depicts how people would see the choir (only on a surface level) while Fall Fair shows us how their actually like but doesn’t provide that much context as to that their a choir. However what Ex Wives does it that it shows them as individuals as well as clearly shows they CAN work as a group but they don’t get much individuality from it

Also speaking of RTC’s St. Cassian Chamber Choir, the Queens are technically a choir! MAKING THISE DAMN MELODIES SO MUCH MORE SATISFYING TO LISTEN TO

Also iconic lines

Quickly foreshadows in subtle ways (AUDIBLE STORY TELLING MY BELOVED)

Once again comparing my 2 fav musicals, RTC has this thing where each character gets a version of Karnak’s theme, SIX does this too in the Queen’s intros

AND ALL THE REMIXES. ALL SOMEHOW MANAGE TO SNEAK IN MORE GREENSLEVES. THE SYMBOLISM. THE MOTIFS. YESSSSSS

Already tells you the amazing humor of wit and sarcasm you can expect to see through out the musical

More audible foreshadowing via the style of each remix

Lina is simple at first with a few strings, but has a lot of little bits added from time to time. It toys with the melody and what it can apply into the already catchy tune. Her intro is probably the one with the most inconsistency as it does not keep the added stuff going. It has a relatively low and steady beat but makes up for simplicity in vocal potency. ALSO JUST SO SAVAGE SHE ATE THAT UP FR FR. Just like No Way

Anne has a slightly higher and more excited melody. The Tempo is the same but serves less of a heavy role unlike Lina’s and is mainly just the supporting cast to the melody. While Anne’s vocals stay relatively high throughout at the end she goes lower and more sinister. Great audible storytelling! There’s little to no playing with what’s been set up and when there is it’s all subtle. As mentioned before the break is only at the end. It’s so cherry and cheeky but if you look at the lyrics it uh- kinda intense. Very DLYH if ask me

JANE SEYMOUR JUST IS PUN FILLED, THE JOKES. It perfectly sets her up to be the one overlooked and the more… patient and forgiving one of the group. She only ever snaps in one of the two fight scenes. Also the fact that she claimed she was the only one he truly love, while sadly likely to be true, also contrasts how loving and caring her sing ends up being with the slight cockiness that the line can be read as along with the infamous “RUDE!”. Her melody is the middle. The added wind pipes(?) later are the high. The tempo is a sort of balance from the higher notes. Her melody is so melancholy and monotone. It’s very Jane and very Heart of Stone fr fr let’s keep this greatness up!

ICH BEN ANNA VON CLEVES. This one does not disappoint either! You can already see the consistent parallels of Anna’s relationship with online dating throughout the song, so it’s good that’s it’s inky reinforced here but not much! Also Haus of Holbein foreshadowing so I guess that softens the whiplash somewhat- Also this intro if the only one where the other Queens serve vocals more than once, I guess you could connect it to how Get Down is the only song that has Anna going out of her way to get the Queens involved (THATS ISN’T BY U BEING PROBLEMATIC ANNE). Also Anna’s snarky comment at the end is ironic as she was probably the only one besides Cathy who didn’t have to deal with Henry in that aspect. Also very very simple only having the accordion, tempo, and clicks to compliment. Get Down!

PRICK UP YOUR EARS IN THE KATHRINE! WHO LOST HER HEAD! For the longest time I thought it was “beheaded; before I promised you I’d see outside of wed” referencing both how short her life and time with Henry was. But no it’s “promiscuity outside of wed“ 💀. Either works however! Kinda ironic that Kat is the one to interrupt Anna’s comment as… ya know… But anyways. The chord progression on this one is especially of note as it’s actual kinda different from AYWD. While AWYD goes High and ten descends, this one go High -> Lower -> Lower Medium -> Low. Interesting indeed! Long of stings and slashes to replace the clicks that Anna had! Also not sure but Tempo seems to be more dominant?

BAM TINY WHIPLASH STRAIT INTO A LAMENT BABY. Then it goes pop again as Cathy gains her balance. Notice how the beats don’t comeback until that point. The first two lines rather have the piano as the click clack. Past that THEN the tempo beats come back once Cathy is talking about and addressing them as a GROUP. She is the one to slide them back into the chorus after all! Foreshadowing as how she convince them to write fanfic- I mean reclaim their stories! Anyways as I saying, she’s probably the one who shakes it up the most. More foreshadowing!!! Also Pt. 1 of Cathy being an independent women’s who may or may not come off as slightly protective and clingy-. Still very IDNYL!

So to recap that giant section; it’s Good use of simplicity, effects, and contrast -> Vocal centric within a happy lucky tune and beat that breaks at the end -> Puns and a somewhat monotone melancholy feel that easily shows character -> More simplicity and focused on the vocals to carry it, also ironic jokes and sarcasm! -> Interesting chord progression and really good wordplay -> Amazing and subtle foreshadowing mix into a lament turned beautiful transition to chorus

Also apparently the Queens go from right to left if you have ear buds in but as a half deaf person I will sadly never get to get the full experience-

Have I talked about the amazing vocals???

MUST WE HAVE A GOOD PLOT WHEN WE HAVE GODLY VOCALS???

THE DAMN RISING NOTES ON THE LINE “WIVES” AHHHHH

IM SORRY ITS JUST TOO SATISFYING

ALSO NOT TO MENTION THE LINE IS ALSO YET ANOTHER GREENSLEVES INFUSED SNEAKY RAT THING

I SWEAR THE OVERLAPPING VOICES EFFECT GOT ME IN A TRANCE

THE RISE AND THEN THE STOP AND THE LOWER RISED IS SO

SEJSJKSKEMSKKEMEMSKEKEK

Also can we talk about how dramatic the beginning is? I love it lmao

Also how over time when they the rhyme their just like “ugh this b*tch again stfu I’m too tired to deal with this”

The fact that Catalina is the first every voice you hear in the entire musical but Cathy isn’t the last line in the sing or the whole show is a nice detail, idk if it was intentional fore shadowing but it’s great!

Also the fact that Hamilton ends on “Who lives who dies who tells your story” and SIX instantly throws you with a “Listen up let me tell you a story!” Is my favorite coincidence

Kat’s lines are potentially longer to match AYWD’s length

ALL THE REFERENCES TO BOTH THE QUEENS AND TUDOR HISTORY I CANT GO INTO BECAUSE THERES TOO MANY

LOOK AT GENIUS

LITERALLY EVERY LINE HAS SOMETHING BEHIND IT

EVERY. LINE. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.

Ill try my best to fit as many as I can off the top my head

I can’t fit everything so this is it- thank you for coming to my Ted talk

[yesiamagummybear]

well fuck

sensitive shit under the cut

Apparently someone on fandom decided it would be a good idea to make a post telling people they would kill themself after being a whiny bitch when people told her that not all lesbians are biologically stronger than straight guys

First, as quoted by my friend InkyAnimatronic,

"as a lesbian, i can clarify that this is complete bullcrap.

it depends on who we are comparing. sure, a lesbian can be stronger than a man, but it is rare and is only when the male is:

A. Skinny.

B. A Femboy. (AKA Skinny)

C. Gay. (AKA All of the above)

now, more butch lesbians can have higher testosterone than the average women/lesbian, but men are usually higher. men are genetically stronger than women."

This is mostly a half-joke but Inky does state some points here.

The Kill-myself-jokester (we'll call her A because I would not like to expose their online identity on Fandom. Nobody witch hunt A. She's going to have a punishment in order probably.) then decided that if would be funny (please no. it's not) to say KILL YOUR SELF to chat when they were proven wrong

We told them they were being really fucking immature which lead to her accusing us of not accepting her as Trans "Why am I stereotyping lesbians when I'm one myself? Oh that's right because you don't accept me as trans"

For one, nobody ever fucking said that

anyways Mod Honey comes around and locks the post for 30 minutes and then peace is restored to the lands

so yippee

I'm too lazy to put every single little detail but that's it

TLDR: Fandom user gets pissed when they get proven wrong about lesbians and calls everyone Transphobic and homophobic. Gets post locked and probably receives a block or some shit

[who-is-page]

CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS: Inky Paws zine #2

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:

Email invisibleotherkin(@)gmail(.)com with your submission, and please title the email "Inky Paws Zine #2 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, 2023.

The optional prompts for this issue are:

The Wild and the Wires - An exploration of nonhuman connection to nature, or lack thereof.

Fire and Perspective

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 35 pages, 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 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 issue 1 of the zine is 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: We are keeping works of explicit fanfiction out of the zine for legal reasons.

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 2023. 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, or on Twitter at Who_is_Page.

[shizazz420]

Shots were fired online

By the site used to meet

Inky is just an angel down

But you just worse everything around

I'm a believer, it's a trial

Foolish and weaker

I'd rather save an angel down

It's chaos

Did you just write poetry calling inky an angel after they abused me for 3 years and tore a whole community apart LMFAO

[doeblossom]

May we see your pony form, Darling? Is it Earth, Unicorn, Pegasus, or other?

click to see their full details! if you can't tell, i've always been unicorn biased. more info about them is below the cut!! but i've really had so many ponysonas, it's bonkers.

pony prime is called "the original" since she was the first oc i ever made. i couldn't decide between being a unicorn or a pegasus, so i just picked both! i knew that having an alicorn oc was considered "cringey," but i justified it due to being native hawaiian and being related to the former bloodline (but honestly it's not as big of a deal as i thought it was then). i also liked the color turquoise at the time, and couldn't come up with a hair or eye color, so i just picked my own.

pony number 2 was a modified version of the original. chopped off her wings, changed her hair color and made it more show-style big-poofy-curl, and added accessories. i was leaning more into liking purple along with turquoise, and started going through a FNAF phase, which brought about the bowtie. it phased out in later drawings of sketche, but i figured it deserved a spot here. another important note: i drew all of my ponies with the same body type, and was still having a hard time drawing/accepting my own, so all of the ponies up until the most recent are thin.

here's a more literal case of FNAF phase. wisp isha was literally a ponified version of my FNAF insert, wisp the wolf. she was also the first ponysona to have a cutie mark, with a red cross symbol and wrench (she performed repairs on the other bots). originally her second name was "urufu," which was the word that google gave me for "wolf" in japanese. it's just "wolf" written out in japanese kanji. i don''t remember where i got isha from, though.

inky emerald didn't even really have a name! i was experimenting with my ponysona, and tried a ponysona making challenge, which spit this girl out. things like species and hair length were determined by your date of birth, of course. she's called "inky emerald" because she has ink covering her legs and hooves, which you can't really see due to the frame. around this time, i had a few other place holder ponysonas, but they all culminated into inky.

snow blossom was one of my favorites when i made her, but as her name implies, she is as pale as the snow itself. and as much as i'll joke about being "reflective" online, i'm actually not this pale haha. anyways, this is where i started leavning more towards a flowery theme and using green in my designs. i think i drew her a couple of times, but after that, she faded into the background and i stepped back from drawing ponies for a long while.

lilac was my return to ponies after about a year and a half of not touching them. it feels like the break was longer, but it wasn't. couldn't get rid of ponies in my brain if i tried ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. lilac willow was a direct redesign of sketche wolf. she was the second pony to have a cutie mark, which was a half-drawn flower. i aws experimenting a lot with how i wanted to draw ponies, so her design was one of the furthest from the MLP style. she looked nothing like me, though; the curls were much more relaxed, she was extremely thin, no glasses... but her design was fun. i may try incorporating her into the main blog at some point, but just in the background.

hmmmmm, i think i recognize this one.... nope. jk. this design was made when i decided to make a blog about lumerde. i wanted to incorporate my NOW favorite colors, green, pink, and yellow, and almost accidentally made fluttershy... but i think the result was fine. she's also chubby, like i am irl! i know i talk about my weight a lot but i'm trying to be more comfortable and confident about it.

and then, our current narrator herself! well, myself, i suppose. i really like this redesign and the new hair texture, and i hope this design communicates everything about how i look properly. i originally tried avoiding putting too many fur marks on my characters since the show rarely did that, but heck, it's barely even attached to the show anymore.

this feels like a lineage. but in a fun way!