Of Snow and Ink: Part 1 - The Dream

She closed her eyes, and focused, forcing chakra into the paper and through the ink. the page gleamed, and the ink shone brightly, both on the page, and the line she drew on the instructor's chest.

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Splatfest

Rio had often thought of pearl and marina while making "solo contributions" to the ink supply, so when he was given the opportunity to donate his ink first-hand, there was no way he could pass it up.

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[Trade]The Shiniest of Pets

He glanced at the ink and bit his lip hard. he did want to be covered in her ink. he loved being treated like melody's toy and being covered in her latex ink would just take that to the next level. he shook his head slightly.

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"The Low Budget Traditional Art Tutorial."

And now we will ink! no need to use two paper sheets!the ink and it's problems.    now, get your pen. line softly over the drawing, boldening the pencil lines with the ink.

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Through a Screen

ink\_blot was online, but he didn't respond. " **i told you i si'd before too, right**?" i stared at my screen for more than two hours and got nothing. ink\_blot's little blue dot was grey now.

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A Patient Death 07: King and Country

Something cracked and ink-eyes wailed, dropping breeze on instinct. the wolf hit the ground and scooped up his club, turning and smashing ink-eyes across the snout.

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Mount Draining

"he just needs a break," inks said, sinking back onto one of the stools, "and you do too. have fun."

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To The Shrike

The butcher-bird is perched, like sentinel of stone - Unmovable and steady as the mountain - Upright upon a branch, protruding there alone, Standing guard against the fountain Streaming down across his lethal gaze. The butcher-bird a flash now...

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Venom Mask

They were a white-furred fox with ink-stained hands and ears along with the tip of their tail. they wore a poncho which was stained with various motes of paint but it matched the ink stain pattern so she didn't think wel cared much.

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In Living Monochrome [Story Trade]

An ebony rope connects his nose and fingers; it's too viscous to be ink, and too liquid to be rubber.

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Fishcreek

You're safe" the voice stopped the ink from your eyes spilling out faster the soft patter against wood the soft patter splashing into my eyes squinting didn't dilute the vision my lungs pleaded for air the stench of ink forcing me to cough and retch

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