dirt enthusiast
@theartofmadeline
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
RMH
One Nice Bug Per Day
DEAR READER
almost home
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
Not today Justin
YOU ARE THE REASON
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Kaledo Art
Stranger Things
ojovivo
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taylor price
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@inkyfable
Welcome to the Inky Fable Library
Which Tome would you prefer?
The Tome of Obsession
The Tome of Magic
The Tome of Jewels
The Tome of Music
The Tome of Knighthood
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Writing Challenges
30 Day Consistency Challenge (Failed 😔)
I would love to see a character inspired by either the Ma Thần Vòng or a Thần Trùng.
I'm always up for making more viet folklore inspired ocs, let's gooo!!!
Funny you mention a Thần Trùng actually, when I first created Vinh I was deciding between making him that or a Quỷ Nhập Tràng. Ultimately, I liked the latter idea as I could do more with that as a yandere story. But anyways!!
Link to what a Thần Trùng is.
Tldr; an evil black bird with a red beak and green teeth that harasses the recently deceased soul for the names of their family members so they can devour them.
So here's my concept sketch:
The idea was that he wears a modification of a monk's robes as a way of "mocking" while he goes about doing what he does as a Thần Trùng. Black and white colors to symbolize death. Red beak on the bird skull mask as a callback to the og creature as well.
This part in particular intrigues me as well:
I'd imagine this character would be a huge troll; annoyingly tapping the casket with the pewter staff to make incessant noise as he waits for the deceased to finally give up.
Loud like a crow is lol
Villainous F/O who calls you their pet, their toy, their tool, their treasure, their weapon, their left hand, their darling, their beloved - all at different times and in different contexts.
ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀɪᴄʜ ʙᴏʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
The air in the private academy’s library tasted of old paper, expensive leather, and the suffocating arrogance of generational wealth.
To Rican, the world had never been a complex web of human emotion or shared struggle. It was a ladder where everything and everyone was either beneath his feet or hoisted above his head.
He, naturally, existed on the highest of the high.
Born with what he fondly referred to as the holy trinity of existence—attractiveness, charisma that border-lined on hypnotic, and an amount of money that could buy a small nation—he had never once encountered the concept of difficulty.
The word "struggle" was a foreign sequence of vowels that simply did not apply to his universe.
And it definitely didn't apply for school either, not when it was like his personal playground.
His father had personally financed entire sports complexes and academic clubs just to ensure Rican’s boredom was kept at bay.
Life was flawless, a golden path laid out before him, except for one tiny thing.
Romantic interest.
Women flung themselves at his feet daily, but a quick, meaningless hookup was all he could muster.
And of course Rican took it upon himself to make it a mission to find someone who could be more than a hookup. (someone who could MAYBE give him a high-five trust)
His first attempt at finding love had been an utter disaster. It ending within thirty seconds when the girl’s voice proved to be a fraction too shrill for his ears, causing him to walk away mid-sentence without a backward glance.
The second target had shown promise until he cast his eyes downward and noticed the scuffed, criminanal sight of her off-brand loafers.
The mere sight of such poverty had induced a physical wave of nausea, forcing him to cross her off his list immediately.
But of course Rican was nothing if not persistent. Third time's the charm, right?
That was when his gaze had drifted to the back of your head.
You were cute, undeniable, but Rican didn't just want a doll—he wanted a prize that felt worthy of his high status.
To test the waters, he had casually slipped a crisp bill into the teacher's palm, ensuring that the seating chart for the semester's most intensive research project was altered.
The investment paid off instantly. Over the first few days, he discovered you were genuinely funny, easy to talk to, and possessed a face that perfectly aligned with his exact aesthetic preferences.
You, however, viewed the entire arrangement through a lens of profound skepticism.
You weren't naive. You knew how wealthy boys functioned.
So of course, you expected him to be arrogant, you expected him to be detached, and you fully expected him to eventually try and pawn all the project's actual research off on you.
What you did not expect, under any circumstances, was the warp-speed at which his brain apparently operated.
By the third day of the project, the casual banter had completely vanished, replaced by an intense, suffocating focus that made your skin prickle.
He could scoot closer to you, and stare at you even when you weren't speaking. It was becoming to the point where you were more shocked if he wasn't staring into your soul.
It was all little things just added up to eachother, like him cleaning the eraser dust off your lap faster than you could or him paying for your bus ride home and even more money so you could buy some food. (You never mentioned how you take the bus)
Then came the fourth day, and with it, the absolute pinnacle of his delusion.
He slid a gourmet bento box across the table toward you—a daily ritual he had aggressively started since the first day of pairing up—before leaning forward on his elbows.
His face was a picture of serene, absolute certainty as he uttered the words that made your entire brain grind to a screeching halt.
"How much for you to date me?"
You immediately froze.
"What?"
You weren't opposed to the concept of financial security, and like anyone else, you enjoyed the idea of having money. But just the sheer audacity of someone trying to buy you like a piece of livestock was completely uncalled for.
He didn't even look ashamed. He just sat there in his expensive chair, a massive, triumphant grin spreading across his face as if he had just offered you the deal of a lifetime, entirely blind to the look of sheer confusion freezing your features.
"Yes, like to have you," Rican clarified effortlessly, his voice dripping with a casual nonchalance that only made the situation a hundred times worse.
He leaned in a bit closer, his eyes bright with a terrifyingly possessive spark. "Preferably forever, and chained wrist to wrist to me."
"What the hell are you talking about?" You looked around frantically, half-expecting a hidden camera crew to jump out from behind the fiction section, but there was nobody—just Rican and his completely unhinged, romantic delusions.
His smile only widened at your reaction, his head tilting to the side as he analyzed your expression with a creepy, clinical fascination.
"Your eyes look pretty, they're big right now," he mused, his voice dropping to a soft, delighted purr. "Is it because you're scared, or maybe excited? I really hope it's the second option."
"Rican, we've literally only known each other for like four days!" you hissed, leaning across the table to whisper-yell, desperately trying to keep your voice down so the librarian wouldn't wander over.
"What are you talking about? Dating? Where did that even come from?" You were genuinely baffled by the absolute lack of self-awareness.
How did rich people navigate the world so completely blind to the discomfort of others? How could he look at your pale, horrified face and see a green light for marriage proposals?
"Yeah, dating then marriage," he replied instantly, nodding his head as if he were explaining a very simple, chronological timeline to a child.
"Or we could just go straight to marriage and babies. But my tutor said it's more normal to become boyfriend and girlfriend first, so I'm trying to do it the traditional way."
You just stared at him. The sheer gravity of his insanity left you entirely speechless.
"I'll give you a weekly salary," he blurted out, misinterpreting your stunned silence as dissatisfaction with the terms.
You stared even more, your mouth slightly open, completely incapable of processing the words coming out of his mouth.
"Daily! Daily, instead?" he corrected frantically, his composure fracturing just a fraction as he leaned further over the table, his hands gripping the wood, desperate to seal the deal.
Your continued silence seemed to throw him into a spiral of panic, his mind incapable of understanding why a human being wouldn't immediately capitulate to the power of his wallet.
"Hourly?" he offered, his breath hitching.
"Every minute?" Rican pleaded, his voice dropping to a desperate, pathetic whine as he reached out, his fingers twitching with the urge to grab your hands.
"Please, I just need you."
eisnewisnshe any new requests yall omg this has been laying in my drafts for like more than 5 months
and also guys I'm kinda in writer's block idk so I'm sorry if this is bad !! I tried my best and hopefully next post is better !! <33
Your werewolf boyfriend is the perfect hiking partner.
With him along, you never have to worry about getting lost or being stalked by potential predators, and he is unbothered by carrying your pack when it gets heavy.
But what you appreciate about his presence on your foraging trips the most (besides his company, of course) is much more simple: his strong nose.
You can grow a lot of your magical ingredients in your garden back at the cabin, but there are many rare magical plants and fungi that simply refuse to be cultivated.
One of those is your main target for today- a rare and exceedingly difficult to find mushroom. Its only found in specific pockets of old, deep woods within a werewolf pack's territory. And even then, its mushroom caps are only harvestable for a slim 48 hour window once a year.
Further complicating matters, this mushroom is seemingly too good for the ground, as it grows on the back of a living creature, instead.
"You sure this is the right part of the woods?"
"Yep. Not too far off now." He taps a finger to his freckled nose. "I can smell it."
Even when he looks no different than a typical somewhat-overly-hirsute man, his sense of smell is several times better than yours.
After a thorough but ultimately fruitless search of the area, you finally decide to throw out the picnic blanket and have the lunch you packed.
"It should be right here..." His nostrils flare.
"It's alright. I can always use substitute ingredients. It's just a little extra work…"
With their potent soporific effect, those mushrooms are the easiest way for you to make one of your specialty soaps, the one that preemptively quells the whole 'unquenchable bloodthirsty rage' side effect of lycanthropy that sometimes occurs. A magically chilled-out werewolf is far less inclined to violence.
"I know, but you shouldn't have to- and it smells something fierce," He grouses, consternation clear in his voice despite purposefully keeping his volume down as to not scare off the wildlife. "But I've looked all over this spot three times now and can't find head or tail of a dang burrow."
He finally relents, eating half his food and then promptly laying back against a tree trunk with his ballcap pulled over his eyes to shade out the midday sun filtering through the trees.
"Don't get too cozy, we still have to hike back." You tease.
"Just resting my eyes for a bit." Banishing the grumpiness of failure, knowing him.
It doesn't take long for a few songbirds to decide to investigate- one perching directly on his head. You even spot a few rabbits and a deer grazing not too far away.
Despite supposedly being an apex predator, woodland creatures have never seemed to shy away from him. If anything, they're drawn to him like a magnet. It's like the forest knows that he belongs to it, too.
"I've actually never seen one of these shroomhogs before."
"Oh yeah? Cute little things. Probably would've been made into trendy pets by now if they weren't so elusive. Round, low to the ground, kinda potato-shaped. Looks like a hedgehog but if the hedge part were toadstools instead of… well, hedge."
…The exact description of the stout little creature currently waddling up to your picnic blanket to investigate.
"Huh." You ask with a smile as you watch the creature start to sniff at his half-touched food. "So, what's it smell like?"
"Kinda like wet dirt, I reckon. And a bit like sage? But different. It's hard to describe. But the scent's more potent the older they are… Dang, it's so powerful right here too…"
"Ah, they sound really cute." You say, tentatively and very slowly bringing your herb harvesting scissors up to the back of the creature.
It's so distracted by voraciously consuming the small pile of leftover trail mix in front of it, that it barely seems to notice as you begin to harvest some of the green caps off its body with an extremely dexterous touch. Just a few snips, and you'll have enough for the entire year, once they're dried and powdered.
You decide letting it eat the rest of his trail mix is a good trade.
"I can't believe we didn't find anything." He twiddles his thumbs in his lap. "It's like it's right under my nose…"
It takes every fiber of your being to hold in your laughter.
He never fails to prove himself useful.
pride month is almost over I would just like to say happy pride to boring LGBTQ people in particular. everyone expects us to be brilliant creatives and scientists and interior decorators and quirky professors and tortured artists but some of us wear nothing but Kirkland Signature clothing and watch Friends and The Office and are incapable of having an interesting conversation and that is okay. our diversity is our strength.
harassment is not an appropriate reaction.
anon hate is not an appropriate reaction.
doxxing is not an appropriate reaction.
death-threats are not an appropriate reaction.
suicide-baiting is not an appropriate reaction.
encouraging self-harm is not an appropriate reaction.
harming someone, either with words, baits, or trying to cause them physical harm, is not an appropriate reaction.
what is an appropriate reaction to things or people you do not like on the internet is a handy little feature that comes free with almost every social media platform, but is hardly ever used; the block button. use it.
the "came back wrong" trope except like... they didnt. like this mad scientists wife died, and so he studied necromancy, brought her back, and she came back and it all worked. like she came back exactly the same as she was before with literally no difference. but the scientist guy is like "oh no... what have i done.... shes Different now!!!! she came back Wrong!!!!" and shes just like. chilling. reading a book. cooking dinner. shes just so so normal but in the guys mind hes like "oh shes soooo weird" but shes just normal
Peer reviewed tags from @somanyofthekids
NO its a JOKE and YOU DONT GET IT. ITS NOT THAT DEEP
While she was dead he put his memory of her on such a high pedestal that she could never live up to it alive
alternatively‚ she came back perfectly fine but he thinks she came back wrong‚ because the tragic reality is that he never actually knew his wife
im going INSANE thats MY POST.
It's your post but the journey to posting it changed it to such a degree that even its closest intimacies are now foreign to you. Sorry dude.
yeah yeah rainbow capitalism is bad and whatever but like. when I was a child, being pro gay was not the popular or lucrative choice. I'm happy that times have changed.
I miss rainbow capitalism. I do. I miss when it felt like public opinion was still pro gay. I understand it was always an empty gesture, but it mattered in a sense of knowing how socially acceptable being queer is. If that makes sense.
Don't think it was an accident that we were encouraged to hate on rainbow capitalism. This is where that was always trying to get us: back to unacceptability.
Yes yes i know love is love. But they are still killing CHILDREN. over this.
what a great day to remember that all aces and aros belong in the lgbt community
Alr bro whatever you say
"Why do you buy books when the library is right there?"
Because publishing houses will not continue printing paper books if libraries are their only customers.
Also, I like being able to read at my leisure and generally have books at hand.
#public libraries are good because they let people access books they might never otherwise read#private book ownership is good because it's Yours#physical books are good because they last a long time and again it's Yours#ebooks are good because you can fit a whole library into the physical space of a single book and they're cheaper to produce#audiobooks are good because they're accessible to people with eyesight or visual reading issues and leave your hands free#in conclusion: all books are good and people should enjoy them however and whenever they can#(lest it be misunderstood I agree with you completely OP I just also really like books in general and it got away from me)
YES. all books. every kind
if you really want to fuck a vampire then i’d say you’re down for the count
damn thats a lot of notes and a lot of vampire fuckers, i guess its time to raise the stakes
i am a fan of stories where a girl just wants to be a normal girl and exist in society like everyone else but she is secretly a non-human monstercreature and she has to be really careful to keep the secret and she is super scared because if she ever gets found out it's all over for her but maybe one day she meets someone who finds out the truth about her but doesn't care and still loves her and loves every part of her including the parts she has to hide and she is able to feel happy and truly loved and maybe she is one day able to be accepted by society for who she is and go out and do things like everyone else. and i am sure none of that has anything to do with me being transgender and otherkin
i really like how the milkman exists as an entirely fossilized character who now serves no purpose other than to fuck people's wives for the punchline
Sending your hybrid and monster friends human centric memes and phrases. Hitting them with a 'I am going to touch you' at like nine in the evening, before you knock on their door and aggressively ruffle their hair and fur, cuteness aggression with a not so subtle want to touch their fluffy forms expressed through ominous messages.
Only for them to begin doing the same in return, getting messages with bizarre sentences sent to you, a vampire bat hybrid texting you 'It is feeding time' before rolling into your apartment and sitting on your lap as they hand feed you whatever treat they have acquired, or a recently made Naga friend calling you over to their house and dragging you into the backyard to join them in 'acting the pie' before settling you on their coils as they sunbake with you draped across their tail.
Just monsters and hybrids taking human internet memes and making them fit their own habits and needs, having a phone full of what would be considered strange, ominous, or haunting texts but it's just your inhuman friends making plans to do things with you via strange ways.
