Done by the always-awesome @wanderingkotka (I do believe she takes commissions?) Isn’t she/they lovely? 

This little bugger is part of @setsu-p‘s world of Objectsonas, with Setsu’s Sim and Pal and @somewhat-nerdy‘s Punkin. Kotka also has Ruby, who should be posted. (Hint hint) 

(They aren’t roommates; she just lives close-by.)

Inkblot, or Inky, lives in the abandoned train station with the other magic users, having become jaded with the outside world. Even among the smaller magical population, Inky is still very hermit-like, but does look out for her fellows and highly values those who are able to get close to her.

The above shows her “public” outfit but at home, she usually wears old long shirts so that nicer, decent clothes do not get ruined from her ink dripping onto them. 

The ink in her head does change colors based on her needs when arting. It can be any hue but it is sadly often a very viscous black due to her bouts of depression. Visitors will sometimes find her with a partially broken glass head with ink dribbling down her face, neck, and chest. Best to just wait these fits out.

Magical-wise, Inky can paint wards or charms onto anything upon someone’s person, usually for protection, but sometimes they can be curses if she dislikes someone. Since the ink is part of her being, her mood will attach itself to the ink and it affects the receiver no matter what. So even if someone is cursed, they will keep a positive attitude if Inky was gleeful while giving them the hex. (”A broken foot? How inconvenient! At least is wasn’t the leg! And my ice cream isn’t ruined. How sweet! :D”) Yeah, people on the outside may think they are tweaking on drugs.

As a community member, Inky takes care of animal spirits of pets who have died. She can contact them due to their being in contact with a magical master so long during life. (Even though it’s less taking care of them due to their deceased status and more like making sure they don’t cause havoc for the living.) They “live” in an area she has dubbed “Rainbow Forest.” (Those who laugh at the name get glared at something awful.) Still-living critters also like to take up residence, which is fine by Inky as she is sure to have plenty of chow of all kinds.

Some of the (magical human) residents jokingly call her large inkbrush “Ol’ Chronos,” in honor of the god’s scythe due to her role as pet spirit guardian. Whether others see the spirits or they just humor Inky is unknown. 

(Why Inky/Inkblot? Due to those inkblot tests used by psychologists and my mental states. That and I enjoy using ink in my “artwork.”)

Random Jäger OCs

Let me introduce you to the Aqua Squad, who I may at some point get around to writing about. For now… well, I just had fun designing them.

Feliks — Feliks looks, on the surface, like the archtypical Jäger. Green fur, pointy teeth, etc. He’s actually otter-like. His fur is very thick and very waterproof as long as it’s clean, which makes him more concerned about hygiene than most Jägers. His feet are splayed and have to be bandaged into shape for him to be able to walk easily on land. His ears are small and rounded and can be closed to keep out water or people he doesn’t want to listen to. His eyes are black and inky.

He used to be pretty easy-going, although having been captured while looking for a Heterodyne (Laid Bare), he’s currently going through a lot.

Walenty — Walenty is shark like. He’s big, has gils between his ribs in addition to lungs, and has mustard-yellow scaley skin. He wears a leather mask over most of his face to protect his sensitive nose.

He’s not very talkative and prefers to make his point with punches (friendly if you’re a Jäger, less so if you’re not).

Maryana — Moray eel Jäger. Has jaws in her jaws so she can bite you while she bites you. Unsurprisingly, she’s very bitey and prefers using her teeth to weapons. She’s not a very big Jäger (she wasn’t a very big human) and has skin with a ripple pattern of light, luminous blue over black.

The prettiness sometimes leaves people expecting her to be one of the less silly Jägers. She’s not.

anonymous asked:

Fair was she with a beauty like none other yet there was a sorrow there beneath her skin that still remained and marred her features. A black grief that he had often tried to wipe away and was certain he’d only made the inky mess all the worse. Somehow she found it in her heart to forgive him for his errors, smiling gently at him in a way that could break his heart. It was in those moments when Faramir would cradle her face between his hands, never tiring of the feel of her soft skin beneath his

PART 2/2 )It was in those moments when Faramir would cradle her face between his hands to draw her near, never tiring of the feel of her soft skin beneath his calloused fingers. “You deserve the love of valiant men and somehow you still choose to remain with me.” He kissed her first upon her brow, breathing in the soft scent of her golden hair and then he kissed her upon her lips, soft and gentle at first until he wanted more of her. “That you’re still here is the greatest mystery in the world to me.“

           The gardens took up much of her time, a promise he had kept since she met him in the Houses of Healing.  Fair indeed was the garden of Ithilien, full of florals he’d often pluck and bestow onto her, beautiful and strong he’d say they were, much like the White Lady of Rohan.  Beautiful and strong and even a bit of sorrow to be seen in them.  For once plucked from the ground and placed into golden crown, they would soon wither and die.    

          Silent he moves, skills of a Ranger wandering the woods that border the lands of Gondor and the high mountains he used to wander so often during war.  Again she looks into his eyes and sees a man who’s eyes were full of a tenderness she thought could never exist and his spirit more valiant than any Rider of Rohan could ever hope to achieve.  This man who chose to love her and she love him.  She knew his strength the moment she laid eyes upon him, for she was raised among men of war and she knew none could ever outmatch him in battle. 

          Èowyn leans into his touch, closing her eyes as she allowed him to hold her between his hands.  Pale hands raise and grasp instinctively upon his arms, do not leave my side, and she kisses him in return.  True still, her heart was full of darkness, the black marks still remained upon her arm as a silent reminder of all she’d endured and will continue to endure, though no longer in silence.  Not so long as he stood by her side.

            ❛     Did you not agree yourself ?     ❜  A smile forms, though faint, it is genuine with a hint of playfulness.   ❛     The Lord and Steward of Gondor, who tamed a wild Shieldmaiden of the North.     ❜  Èowyn tilts her head and turns her gaze from him.  His eyes always able to see what lay beneath porcelain skin, unafraid of the lashes dealt for peering too deep too soon.  Had it not been for him, the Lady wondered where she would wander.  The Riddermark often filled her mind.  The vast fields she would wander and her ride noble steed, Windfola across.  The anger still within her, turned to darkness.  A poison clawing at her from the inside, never to escape —– until he smiled upon her.

          ❛     Do you still think so little of yourself ?  To believe I deserve a more valiant man than thee.     ❜  And it was her turn to hold his face in his.  Where she like most women of this land, her touch would be soft and gentle, that of a healer, but callous and scars ran along her hands and palms.  Her hands knew strength, they knew the weight of a sword all too well and the blow of steel upon steel, steel upon flesh and bone.  Lady Èowyn, a shieldmaiden of Rohan, Lady of the Shield-arm.  Her hands knew of death and how to deliver it to her foes.  But her touch is gentle nonetheless.  No longer did strong hands desire to wield blade and shield and hold it high, they wished to know of life and love and kindess.  They wished to be upon his skin for all time and know the meaning of true happiness in his embrace.  They wished for the calm after the storm.

           ❛     It is you above all others I have chosen.  You, Lord Faramir, Steward of Gondor, Ranger of Ithilien that my heart desires.    Ræfn−an êower âcêlan wand mîn myne ?     ❜  A breath is drawn and she places her head against his chest.  Calming was the beat of his heart, a comfort in the night when he held her close and she found sleep would not take her.   ❛     I love thee, Faramir.  More than any language upon Middle Earth could say.  I love thee.     


Two glasses of a fine red in, Slyvianne found her phone in her hand, typing out a message for company. Nael was her first thought, primarily because her current perch was on the armchair that had found it’s home in her studio, long legs draped over one arm, her hair churning down like tears.

  • [SYLV]: feeling creative?

She hit send, pausing before snapping an image of the wine and sending that as well. Sylv plucked up a paintbrush, running the clean bristles down the inside of her arm. Cat had found his usual spot, nestled between the window and the curtain, his svelte form almost inspiring. The brunette found her seat by her easel, dipping thoughtfully into an inky hue, marring clean canvas. Without Nael to offer guidance, she continued like this, waiting for the bell to indicate the arrival of her guest.


A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours’ time by Mrs. Dursley’s scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley…He couldn’t know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: “To Harry Potter, the boy who lived!

hi all. there suddenly seem to be a lot more of you, so i thought i’d better step into the light and introduce myself. i think one of my harry potter what ifs is making the rounds again? maybe? tumblr is a mystery.

hi all, i’m inky and this is my little corner of the internet. it’s mostly filled with
- death-shrouded girls
- and found families 
- and pretty things. 

i’m happy to have you here.

i write fic, which you can find either here on my tumblr or at archiveofourown under the username ’dirgewithoutmusic .’ i do mostly either character focuses for characters like
- susan pevensie 
- or eowyn of rohan 
- or jane foster;

or ‘what if’ rambles like
- ‘what if padme lived?“
- and ‘what if keladry of mindelan wasn’t pardoned at the end of lady knight?’ 
- and ‘what if harry potter got sorted slytherin?’

if you like my fic, i also write novels. i have two trilogies–
- the alliance trilogy (sneak, liar, traitor), which follows a princess, a spy, a rebel, an aspiring politician (she’s twelve and a half but she's determined), an explorer, and a thief as they find themselves on different sides of a brimming civil war.
- you can find the alliance books here (sneak) or here (if you want to start on liar, which works just fine. sneak is sort of a prequel to the main story.)– the ebooks are free, hard copies cost money. 
- the leagues and legends trilogy, which follows a kid named jack and his friends through a school for heroes. beanstalk and echoes of the giantkiller are out, and I’m working through the last edits of the final book, remember the dust. you can find them here 

if one of these series doesn’t grab you, do try the other. they’re fairly different in terms of feel and style, and certain people play better with one or the other. 

i love getting messages and my ask box is always open, but i don’t manage to answer every message these days. if you send me something nice, please know i read it and that it probably made my day. if you send me a prompt or a question, it’s quite probably sitting in my drafts. when i do answer asks, it’s often months later, so hold out hope, folks.