#horses all the way down

[susandnymm]

The Unicorn

"A horse? I, a horse?"

Aldieb

from The Last Unicorn:

I'm trying to draw something every day right now, and today I sat down planning to do an animation-y Aldieb to go along with Mandarb and Caba. I realized just a few days ago how much cartoon Mandarb owes his eyes - and a lot of the stylization in his mane and tail - to the Unicorn from the Last Unicorn. That movie (and later, the book) was my absolute diehard favorite when I was really little. I thought, because of that, that it would be really fun to intentionally style Aldieb to echo The Unicorn - so I pulled up some references from the movie and got to work. As I went along mimicking the flow and shape of the lines that are done in sort of an Art Nouveau feel and with a direct thematic callback to ocean waves, though, I saw something really cool for the first time that I had never realized before. The style that she is drawn in has been a huge influence on all of my artwork in the style and shape of lines that I like to draw. Those flowing, loose wave shapes pop up unconsciously everywhere in my work, even though I very rarely drew The Unicorn even when I was a little girl obsessed with her because I was more wrapped up in trying to draw the most realistic horse I could. So I was only partway through the line drawing for Aldieb when I knew there was no way I could NOT switch gears and do The Unicorn with her ocean waves -- but I still wanted my dapple-grey Aldieb and through the magic of digital art, why not both?  It was such a fun nostalgic moment to see how the influence of that early childhood favorite has stuck with me. The same sorts of shapes absolutely show up on things like Wisdom Nynaeve's framing, and really everywhere I look at my drawings now.

The Unicorn showing up in my subconscious for sure:

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

Watching Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron again as an adult is so great because not only do you appreciate the nostalgia and joy of it, the stunning 2D animation mixed with early 3D techonology and well written tight story with a main character that never speaks.

But also you appreciate that the plot relies on horses, despite not being typical talking horses in cartoons, being extremely intelligent to the point that they are aware of their captivity and exploitation. And it involves a hyper intelligent horse dismantling (or, at the very least significantly delaying) American colonialism's expansion into the west.

This horse also very likely killed many colonialists when they were either launched at high speeds from his back, kicked in the head or blown up in a train explosion.

Good for him.

[bixels]

This Twitter MLP human redesign drama is a mess, leave me the fuck out of it.

[tswwwit]

One of the neat things about demon flirting versus human flirting is the opportunity for jealousy. Weird jealousy.

Bill complains to Dipper about a lot of things. How his day was going. About any plans that were foiled, if any. How dumb other beings are. But if, say, Bill started going on about this one real pest he's had hanging around lately, and how they're so irritating and getting in his way...

It is said that husbands gain a sixth sense upon becoming married. In Bill's case, it was actually his thirteenth - but when he notices Dipper’s gone oddly quiet, he hears the alarm bells ringing.

Oh, so this person, huh. Really irritating, Bill says. A thorn in his side, maybe? How annoying, exactly? Now Bill’s sweating as Dipper’s own annoyance rises. What, are they, like a new *nemesis* or something?

Now Bill’s on damage control duty as he reassures Dipper - entirely truthfully! - that he’s soooo infuriating and definitely the Worst Thing that's ever happened to him.

[kaeyachi]

Kaeya had always been an efficient and hard-working individual (he had to be to support Diluc in the background as his brother rose thru the ranks after all).

He has so much free time because he completes all his work way ahead of schedule. And if he still has enough time, he adds more to the workload in secret.

And once all of that was done and over with, he makes time for everyone. He has to. He feels as if every moment has to be given to someone else.

No one knows how he does it. No one has to know.

Every mission has a dozen strategies in line, and every battle plan is made with efficiency in mind. His perfect record will not be tarnished. He can't risk it (even if it baffles others that he would willingly activate a ruin guard just to prevent a failed mission. Jean disagrees with his methods, but Kaeya can say that the results say otherwise)

He needs to be quick.

Efficient.

Perfect.

And so he comes and goes like the wind.

Kaeya values time because he knew every second counted. He can't just stand there as if he were frozen. Time could run out in an instant.

Kaeya had only been late once his entire life.

He'd rather he never be late ever again.

It took one day of being of being imperfect for everything to fall apart. On that tragic day...had he gotten there on time... then maybe...

.

.

.

" Come on, let's get moving, traveler. We're not frozen in place after all. " Kaeya teasingly says. He stiffles a giggle at the traveler's exhasperated sigh.

"Yeah yeah, we've heard enough of you calling us a slacker. Can't you be a bit more patient?" Paimon whines at him.

Kaeya snorts, but acquiesces, hiding the shaking of his hands at the thought of being idle.

He imagines hearing a clock ticking.

Kaeya knows that that is his own problem. He tries his hardest to relax as he waits for the traveler to finish whatever they're making on the alchemy table because, seriously, it is supposed to be a relaxing day. There's nothing major going on, and his schedule is once again empty as intended. What's the hurry?

Kaeya taps his foot on the ground as he waits. He wishes he could take his own damn advice when he tells others to relax.

[fakehusbandgarbagedump]

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[nostalgicfun]

Grand Champions Micro Minis 💙

[figofswords]

hey any furries out there know how to draw a goat

[shortnotsweet]

ghostsoap as cowboys in the old west. the red sun is dying in the far horizon and they just can’t quit each other. hit send tweet

[sometimesanequine]

we ready for junicorn 2024? can never find prompt lists so i made my own

junicorn prompt list text id. day one, shard. day two, angelic. day three, butterfly. day four, nature. day five, industrial. day six, glow. day seven, planetary. day eight, insect. day nine, lantern. day ten, skeletal. day eleven, floral. day twelve, autumnal. day thirteen, gloomy. day fourteen, sword. day fifteen, night. day sixteen, icicle. day seventeen, gossamer. day eighteen, fungus. day nineteen, ghost. day twenty, spear. day twenty one, fairy. day twenty two, oceanic. day twenty three, spring. day twenty four, magician. day twenty five, tapestry. day twenty six, glass. day twenty seven, candle. day twenty eight, gemstone. day twenty nine, patchwork. day thirty, heraldic. end junicorn prompt list text id.

[katherynefromphilly]

Whenever I hear people complain about TV characters being Unexpectedly Able To Do Amazing Things, I think of that one time that I got off of a galloping horse.

I had been talked into horseback riding by a friend who was a Horse Girl, and because I’d never ridden a horse she took me to a safe (ha!) rent-by-the-hour farm, where the ponies looked bored and walked slow.

Five minutes into the ride, my horse took off down a steeply sloping narrow mountain path, full-ass galloping towards certain death via smashing into a massive tree trunk that had fallen across the path.

Considering that my options were 1) being thrown from the horse and impaled on a tree, or 2) getting off the galloping horse and taking my chances, my brain chose Option 2 for me, and so I got off the horse while it was still galloping, then hung from its side pulling at its reigns, unintentionally slowing the horse down enough so that I could run alongside it and pull its reigns even harder, finally managing to stop the horse right before we both smashed into the tree trunk.

So yeah. Sometimes people can Unexpectedly Do Amazing Things. I don’t know what to tell you Karen.

[writebackatya]

Huey: Oh come on! Fenton’s your loyal assistant, can’t you let him borrow your lab for one night?

Gyro: No! I absolutely refuse to help out!

Huey: Don’t you believe in love?

Gyro: No! I don’t think the intern will ever find love so why should let a couple of elementary school kids use MY lab?

Webby: Well then I guess you leave us no choice. {hits Gyro’s head with a sock filled with nickels}

Huey: WEBBY! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?

Webby: He was never going to say “Yes” and it’s not like we have another lab we can borrow to pretend to be Fenton’s lab

Huey: But what about them!? {motions to Lil’ Bulb and Manny}

Webby: Hey so we’re setting up a romantic dinner for Fenton and we’re pretending that this lab is his, is that all right?

Lil’ Bulb: {gives a thumbs up}

Manny: {stomps hooves} “Yes”

Huey: Oh wow, with your guys’ help we’ll have this place set up in no time! And you two actually wanna help out?

Lil’ Bulb: {moves hands to talk} “Yeah, if I’m being honest Gyro and I haven’t been on the best terms lately so I’m using any opportunity I can get back at him. And honestly I think Fenton really needs to get laid”

Manny: {claps hooves} “I am SO SICK of him calling me, ‘Manny’! I have a name! It’s Goliath!! Learn Morse Code, genius! And yes, Fenton really needs to get laid”

Webby: I didn’t understand a single word you two just said but it looks like you’re both in! Now someone help me put Gyro’s body somewhere it won’t interrupt Fenton and Gandra’s 1st Date!

Lil’ Bulb & Manny: {grabs Gyro’s body which they drag over to the closet}

Webby: Oh wow, looks like you both got him!

Gyro: {slowly waking up as he is getting dragged} W-what?! Lil’ Bulb! Manny! I order you both t-

Lil’ Bulb & Manny: {throws Gyro into the closet and locks the door}

Webby: Well that takes care of that!

Huey: All right everyone, let’s turn this lab into the most romantic place in all of Duckburg!

Manny: {claps hooves} “I can play the accordion!”

[maingh0st]

This is just curiosity if anyone else notices this. People say that the TFOTA fandom holds no toxicity but I don’t think that’s the case. We just don’t have ship-wars. But have you noticed that a good amount of the fandom has a holier than thou attitude on how you’re supposed to enjoy the fandom? I admit I dislike wren and have been open about it in the past, But I noticed that the fandom will defend her and call you names for stating your dislike of her and being rude to you than do the same thing you’re doing with a character they love but do it with Taryn or another character they dislike, and hate noticing that they’re doing the same thing and call you names for stating that. I also noticed that some fans will call you names and be rude to you for having a different opinion on the next faerie book. Say the fandom is not for you for not liking things they like, and call you toxic for not having the same headcanons as them or not liking the same thing as them and being open about it. It’s especially bad on Reddit. But it can be bad on tumblr or any platform that has them do the same actions but say you’re the toxic one for not liking things they like. I’m curious if you’ve noticed that

hi! I'm really sorry you've had those experiences. honestly, I'm pretty new to tfota tumblr, and I don't engage with the fandom anywhere else (you mentioned reddit), so I've had less time to pick up on behaviors like that. I don't know if I'm lucky, or if I've just cultivated a pretty chill group of followers and accounts that I follow, but my time here has been pretty lacking in toxicity (& if people seem like they're trying to be inflammatory, I usually try not to engage)

in general, fandom lives in this really interesting intersection between entertainment (so we get the "let people like what they like; it doesn't matter" crowd) and truth/meaning (so we get the "stories reflect your ethics & our world & therefore shouldn't just be mindlessly enjoyed" crowd). I'm just a person yapping on the internet, but if I had to take a stab at where a lot of fandom toxicity comes from, it's in the clash between those two ideas. everyone has the right to form their own opinions and preferences for the media they consume, and yet at the same time, we often want to have conversations about what those stories mean & whether their themes are good reflections of our real world.

but if a character is your favorite babygirl who can do no wrong & you see someone criticizing their actions (or, alternatively, if you're deeply disturbed by the themes in a story & see someone ranking it as one of their favorite books), it can feel personal. we can forget that the individual behind that account is a whole person with life experiences that form their perspectives & whose opinions are no less valuable than our own.

I'm sorry you've experienced name calling and gatekeeping; that's really unfair. fandom is for everyone (just don't cause harm), and people are allowed to have differing opinions. I wish open & respectful conversations were more common than they are, but they do exist, and that's why I'm still here—I've had so much fun jabbering with people (who often have different perspectives on the books we read!) because I learn from them. I hope you're able to find that comfortable niche here, too.

[hiraganasakura]

I'm ill over the extended RWBY V9 epilogue.. I'M ILL [POSITIVE]

[lildoodlenoodle]

Three spider ocs I made and have been partially sitting in my drafts 😭 🫠 Orange Weaver, BirdEater, and Brown Recluse. Could not decide on a format lol

Here’s some extra doodles I made while flushing them out