#mysterious pink mare

[askdaisydandfriemly]

daisy have you ever wanted to control time before because i have a device that can do just that if you want it?

Splunge: And in a blink, the mysterious pink mare disappears, and the Sheriff slows begins to move...

@ask-the-doctor15 Thanks for the ask!

I know you directed this question at Daisy, but she isn't a fan of time travel stuff right now. ^^;

[hopelessromantic5]

Last one for the night.

Sorry for the content dump. 🫶

Regency AU clip. Arthur and Merlin inspired by Anthony Bridgerton and Kate Sharma.

Arthur’s father, The Viscount, decided he had let Arthur ‘pursue fanciful whims’ long enough.

He wanted Arthur to find a wife this season.

Oh, joy.

It was for this reason, Arthur went for an early morning ride, to let out his overwhelming frustration and to get out of that blasted house with his siblings, more specifically, his elder sister and her eyes full of pity.

Morgana knew that Arthur wanted to hold out for love, the kind of love their own parents shared. Arthur felt it his duty to find someone who would one day become Viscountess, have his children and help him continue his family’s long-standing reputation.

The only problem, which isn’t really a problem, more of an inconvenience, was that Arthur didn’t like women, in the slightest. Romantically speaking, that is.

He found this out the hard way when his college mates tried to throw him into a room full of naked women.

Arthur was…curious. But nothing beyond that, women were a complete mystery to him so he was really just in awe of their natural bodies and how objectively beautiful they were.

But it did nothing. No part of him stirred or got excited. That’s when he started to become uncomfortable, because he’d always known, deep down, in a place no one ever sees.

He left rather quickly.

Thankfully, his friends had disappeared by then.

The ride led him farther into the woods than he usually went, but he knew his way around them.

He slowed his horse to a trot as he went lost in his thoughts.

That was quickly interrupted when he heard galloping approaching. Very fast.

Before he could think twice, the horse and the person riding it, raced just past Arthur, causing his own mare to stumble a bit.

Well, I’ve got to see what this is about.

That was the only thought to cross his mind before turning the other direction, taking off as fast as he could.

He spotted the horse and rider immediately. Arthur rode harder and urged the animal below him to follow.

He had almost caught up, when a branch that seemed to come from nowhere caught Arthur’s jacket and caused him to pull back on the reigns, involuntarily.

He slowed to a stop, laughing hysterically.

That was fun.

“You’re laughing a lot for someone who lost.” The voice was deep.

Arthur hadn’t realized the horse in front of him also slowed and stopped, unwilling to turn the opposite direction and face him.

Arthur took the stranger in, finally. All he could see was a blue cloak with the hood pulled up, hiding all identity.

The skilled hands gripping the reigns wore gloves.

“To be fair, we never agreed on a stopping point and that limb was interference, divinely guided as it may have been.”

“Oh, divinely guided, was it?” The man snickered, but it was closer to a giggle.

Arthur couldn’t read the stranger very well when he could not see him.

He took matters into his own hands and rode past the other man, then spun to see the horse-whisperer directly, face to face.

“Oh.”

He didn’t know what he’d been expecting.

But it was not to have his breath stolen.

He could not even see all of the man’s face, but what peaked out from under the hood was pale flawless skin and perfect pink lips.

Hooded eyes pointed to the ground between their two steeds.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone who won.” Arthur quipped.

The man finally raised him eyes in a glare that didn’t hold much heat behind it.

God, those eyes.

Blue like the ice that forms from dripping water on the window sills. The lightest clearest parts of the ocean. Pure and endless.

Wow.

Arthur had never been struck by a person’s beauty before.

“You’re a complete stranger, what if you have ill intentions, or try to rob me blind?”

Arthur threw his head back in a laugh at this.

“You aren’t that inattentive. My intentions are pure, you have my word. I am a gentleman.” Arthur smirked at the blue eyed wonder. He got a small smile in return.

“Well, I have to be getting back.”

No.

Arthur’s whole body practically howled the word. He’s not unable to control himself.

“Will I see you again?”

The man was already turning around to return from the way they came.

“Perhaps you will, my lord.”

Arthur sputters.

“How did you know I was-“

“I’m not that inattentive.” The man called over his shoulder before tapping the side of his boot on the horses flank and taking off into the trees.

Well, that was truly something.

[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 51 : Grandmaster problems

They decide if they wanna see Laozi

Macaque was sitting on a wooden chair. The room was dim-lighted, only one or two rays of sunlight managed to pass through the curtained window. Everything was silent. Except for the sound of a pen rustling on paper coming from Red Son. The fiery boy was frowning, a lion wrinkle was forming in-between his eyebrows. He approached Macaque and began to examine him. First he verified the state of the wound hiding behind snow white bandages. It was still quite fresh. Maring his skin with vibrating pink. It hurts sometimes. When he moved too harshly. But it was healing. 

Red Son let out a satisfied hum, then he looked up at the warrior, his piercing eyes narrowed dangerously. 

“Have you had any other episodes of seizing pain since you woke up?” Macaque mood dimmed at the mention of those mysterious pain. He didn't like to talk about them. It was better if he ignored the festering wound inside of him, because it scared him, but he didn't want to lie either. Luckily, he didn't have any other episodes, as he called them, since he woke up. 

“No.” Confidently answered Macaque. Red Son nodded and scribbled something in his paper. “Do you know what those episodes are?” Tentatively asked the warrior. As much as he wanted them to be nothing but a common cold, he knew they weren't. The pain was too encompassing. It felt like something was scratching his organs from inside. Like his very body was breaking apart. Something was wrong with him. And it scared him to no end. 

Red Son frowned, a shadow was cast in his gaze, it dimmed the bright fire dancing in his pupils. “I'm not sure.” Sighed the Bull's son. “My equipements here is limited and I'm not… an expert of souls related matters. The only thing I can say is that whatever is happening inside of you, it's not good and it puts us in a time clutch.” Macaque gulped, a knock formed itself inside of his throat. Not good. It wasn't good. Whatever was happening to him was worsening his body state. He could feel it. He was stiffer than before. Sometimes, he woke up with no feeling inside one of his arms, with it completely stiff, like a piece of wood. In those moments, he slowly tried to move his fingers until the blood rushed in it again. “Did you receive any magic from Sun Wukong?” 

Macaque was broken out of his musing by the fiery boy's question. He chased his somber thoughts and replied : “Yes, I'm full of magic for now.”

“Great. Increase the frequency and the quantity of the magic you receive, if you can.” Macaque nodded, it was better to be safe than sorry. “What about Sun Wukong? Do you think you can wake him up?”

“... I'll try.” Sighed the black-furred monkey. He didn't know exactly how he did it the first time, but he wasn't going to give up. 

“Nothing is wrong with him physically, meaning this is a mental problem. Perhaps a reaction to highly stressful situations. If you can quell his worries. He should come back to his spirits.”

“Yeah, sounds right.” Macaque sighed and awkwardly scratched his neck. It made him feel odd to receive so much help from someone he wasn't close to. He ought to thank the fiery boy. He did way more than what was asked of him. Macaque wasn't good with words. More often than not, “thanks” and “sorries” were falling out of his mouth like uncouth rocks. It was a bad habit. He spend so much of his life pretending to be unwoundable, to be made of the sturdiest of steal, it was almost daunting to put down the act and reveal some things as vulnerable as gratitude and remorse. Yet, he pushed through the awkward feeling, through the screeching beast clawing at his heart and screaming to not show any weaknesses, he hoped one day he could apologize or be thankful without this uncomfortable feeling. “Thanks for… all that. You're doing way more than what is expected of you.”

Red Son flinched, he put his paper down on a wooden table and sighed. “I'll be honest with you. I didn't come here for you.” Macaque wasn't very hurt by this. He already knew it. He had no links to the fiery boy anyway. Why should Red Son care about his fate? No. Red Son was here because of Mei and MK. “My father never talks about you and from the looks of it you two weren't close either. The past brotherhood you forged is nothing but dust. Thus, we have no bonds.” The red boy raked one hand in his hair, a troubled expression etched itself on his pale face. “... Yet, the more I spend time observing you and Sun Wukong, the more I learn that you are nothing like I thought you'd be.” The fiery boy turned towards Macaque with a weary expression. “And, either I like it or not, I know I'll see the both of you more than once if I keep being friends with the noodle boy and the dragon girl.” Macaque never considered this fact, but it was true. Especially for Wukong. MK was his mentee, part of his clan in demons traditions, Red Son was bound to cross path with the golden-furred simian if he wanted to keep seeing MK. “Perhaps, when this is over, the three of us can learn to know each other better.”

Macaque jaw dropped in surprise. He never thought Red Son of all people would be willing to deepen the nonexistent bond between them, especially with Wukong involved. It was an odd thought. Macaque didn't know if he could even be a proper uncle. What was an uncle even supposed to do? He was terrible with children. Not that Red Son was a child, he was more of a young adult by demon standards. But still, Macaque was probably the most awkward person when it came to bonding. Yet what could he say in face of such sincerity except “I would like to.” He didn't know where this spark would take them. Perhaps, they would only realize that it would be better to remain distant acquaintances. Yet, as Sandy often tells him, it didn't hurt to try, he just had to take it slow. 

“Now, go out before he breaks in.” Huffed Red Son as he approached the window and opened the curtains. Sun Wukong was pressed against the glass. His face flattened comically. He chirped excitedly when he caught sight of Macaque. The warrior fondly sided. He got up and stretched a little. 

“See you later.” He told Red Son as he opened the door close to the window. The fiery boy nodded at him and returned to his research paper. 

The minute Macaque was outside, he was smothered by a clingy monkey. Wukong slithered in-between his legs, pressing himself as close as possible. “I can't walk like this, bud.” Sighed Macaque as he pinched the bridge of his nose. It took some convincing, but eventually Sun Wukong gave him enough space to walk on his own. “This is exactly why Red Son didn't allow you in. You were preventing him from examining me.” Wukong, like the brat he was, huffed in frustration with no remorse whatsoever concerning his behavior. Macaque snorted. Really, this guy was the most clingy person on earth. The black-furred monkey walked on the docks, he glanced at Sandy repairing the ship's engines. They will be ready to fly tomorrow morning. As such, they all unanimously decided to discuss tonight about their next destination. With Wukong still in his feral state, it was important to consider what to do next. 

Macaque sighed, in truth, he didn't want to go see Laozi like Wukong originally planned. He didn't know the guy personally but what he heard was enough for him to not trust him. How could he trust the man who pushed his best friend in a furnace to burn him alive? The mere thought of it was enough to anger him. The black-furred monkey sighed, he went inside, going back to his shared room with Wukong. 

All the liu'si were there. He wanted to examine them now that he got them all at hand reach. Wukong jumped on his bed and curled around Sock, who was peacefully licking her fur clean. She looked up at him, before going back to her grooming. After a few seconds, Wukong began to groom her too. Macaque took out his phone and snapped a picture. He put it in his special file filled with feral Wukong pictures. There were a lot of pictures of Wukong playing with the cats in it. 

Macaque sat before all the weapons and examined them. He took the first one within reach, the spear. It was the one he was the most familiar with. It was entirely black, with a sharp blade shaped like an arrow. He grabbed the handle tighter, familiarizing himself with the feeling of steel in his hands. The spear was probably the one he would be the most comfortable with, considering the grip was very similar to a staff. He fed the weapon a lil amount of magic and almost immediately the blade gained a new luster. It was a very sensitive weapon. Macaque swung it. It was almost as if the blade was cutting the ambient light, giving him the possibility to control the amount of light in a room. The larger the room was, the more difficult it would be to cut light, the more it required magic. The one who wielded this weapon managed to cut light in quite the large space. Perhaps, with training, Macaque would be able to plunge an entire city in darkness with only one swing of his spear. 

The warrior put down the spear and took another liu'si. The long sword. It was the one the Not-Mayor kept for himself. The handle was bright red, almost bleeding under the sunlight. The blade was sharp and straight, it was silver with a luster of black. Not a carving could be seen on the blade. It was simple. Almost humble. Yet it felt dangerous. Truly a knight's sword, it belonged in the hands of a paladin. Macaque fed it some magic, the blade became darker, like it was tainted by shadows itself. The warrior remembered how the Thrall used it. He dived the point of the blade in his shadow, immediately, his shadow wobbled and changed shape. It became physical. It was quite interesting… The Thrall used it to make very simple shapes, like tentacles, but with more training it was possible to create any kind of monstrous appearance and launch it on enemies. 

Macaque hummed in satisfaction, he put down the sword and picked up another. He wasn't that familiar with the shield. The little amount he saw of it was ridiculous at best. It was round, reminiscent of romans shield. Round like a full moon. It was made of silver. The steel was heavy but not too heavy. It felt good in his hands. And now that he looked closer, carvings of the different shapes of the moon could be seen on the edge of the shield. Macaque fed it magic, the shield became colder, and its center swirled in black. Macaque smiled. Oh, so that weapon made a shadow portal appear in its center. Quite useful to launch back long distance attacks, but not very practical in close to close combat. 

Macaque picked another liu'si, the bow. It was snow white and carved like a crescent moon. The string was pitch black. The bow was probably one of the most beautiful liu'si. Carvings of moonflowers could be seen in the wood if one looked closely. Macaque fed it magic and stretched the string. Immediately, a shadow arrow appeared in-between his fingers. From what MK told him, those arrows could traverse walls like ghosts until they reached their target. Macaque was tempted to shoot, but he didn't want to accidentally hurt someone. He softly let the string go and the arrow disappeared. 

The last liu'si was the gauntlets. They were made of black steel with silver accents. The tips of the fingers were particularly sharp. From what Tang told him, they could cut someone else's shadow and make it alive, creating a perfect copy of the enemy. It was a tempting weapon. But Macaque wondered if there was a limit to the number of shadows he could cut. Moreover, the more powerful one would be, the more difficult it would be to cut their shadow. Still, they felt good on his hands, almost like a second skin. 

Once he was satisfied with his examination, Macaque went to bed with Wukong and Sock. He didn't know what to think of the liu'si. It was disturbing to know parts of his old soul resided inside those weapons. Yet, when he wielded them, it almost felt right, like he was cradled in familiar hands. But he couldn't let the feeling dull his senses. He knew how he had been at this time. Cruel and cunning. Those weapons were the same. He wasn't going to be fooled by his past self. But he didn't want to abandon them either. He knew how painful it was to be discarded… He sighed, Wukong crawled closer to him and nosed his neck, perhaps finding comfort in his scent. Macaque closed his eyes, lulled by the comforting warmth of the great sage. For now, it was better to concentrate on the lantern, the liu'si matters would come after. 

Sock decided to move on his chest. She pawed at his shirt until she was satisfied and then curled there. Macaque scratched under her chin and smiled at her purring. Then he turned towards the golden monkey and petted him. “You know you're safe, right?” Mumbled Macaque as he dived in Wukong's gaze. The warrior didn't know what was hiding behind those sun-kissed eyes. He wished he knew. He wished he could understand everything, the pains, the tears, the joys, and cradled the golden being in his arms. He wished he knew the right words to say to coax Wukong out of this feral state. But he didn't. The only thing he could do was to whisper promises in his ears in hope of soothing him. 

How could one soothe someone who went through everything and anything? 

Macaque didn't know. The only thing he could offer was his cold stiff arms and awkward words of love. He hoped it was enough for Wukong. Because he truly didn't know if he had anything more to offer.

After dinner, the whole team sat in the living room. Wukong was shamelessly sprawled in Macaque's lap. Nosing his neck with glee, letting out chirps of satisfaction every now and then. Macaque was grabbing his hips to stop him from wiggling around. Every pieces of the lantern were laid on the table. Macaque watched the mahogany woods with excitement and apprehension. Could this truly save him? He didn't know but he couldn't stop his foolish heart from hoping. 

“So are we going to this Laozi guy like planned or..?” Began Mei, she was reclining on the sofa, her hair still wet. She and MK spend the day playing in the water. 

“... With Wukong still in his feral state we have no connections with him. We don't know if he'll listen without the threat of the great sage equal to heaven.” Pointed out Red Son. Wise words. Macaque completely agreed with him. 

“Moreover, he could take advantage of Wukong.” Added Macaque with the hint of a growl. 

“But do we know any other grandmaster that could fix the lantern?” Asked Tang. Silence prevailed. The cold hard truth facing them. They didn't know anyone else. 

“We could find some with the compass, right?” Proposed MK with a tentative optimism. 

“If we don't know the person's name or physical appearances, the compass is just gonna be confused and points in multiple directions at the same time.” Sighed Red Son. 

“How about we ask someone to help us?” Chimed in Sandy. Macaque wondered who would be even willing to help them.

“What about Nezha? He saved the world with us and all. If we ask him to accompany us, maybe the Laozh guy isn't gonna act out.” Cut Mei. It was a sound proposal if the lotus prince agreed to help them. Yet there was still something Macaque was worried about. 

“What if the price Laozi asks in exchange is too much for us?” Asked Macaque, he tightened his hold on Wukong. He didn't want anyone to be hurt because of him. Silence prevailed once more. 

“What about the Cheng guy? A lot of people come to his city, and he knows a lot about shadow stuff. Maybe he knows someone who can help?” Sighed Pigsy as he raked a hand in his hair in thoughts. 

“How about this… We go find Nezha and ask him to accompany us in case Laozi tricks us. At the same time we send a letter to Cheng to ask if he knows of anyone who could be talented enough to repair the lantern. If Laozi price is too much for us, we wait for Cheng's response.” Tang's proposition was uncertain but leagues better than what they originally planned. Macaque knew the lotus prince was of good character. He wouldn't let Laozi exploit them. 

“I can also send a letter to my parents to inquire if they know about any grandmaster.” Added Red Son. 

“Oh me too, I can ask my great, great, great, great uncy dragon of the west.” Chimed in Mei. 

They all nodded and agreed to the plan. Macaque was a bit more reassured by this. It was always wiser to have multiple choices and possibilities. The warrior looked down at the monkey cuddled on his lap, he put a hand on Wukong's head and ruffled his hair. Wukong chirped in delight and pressed harder in his hands to have more pets. 

Macaque swore now and then, if Laozi dared to do anything to Wukong, he was going to tear the guy in pieces.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[ladyathenawisdom]

Don't Let Me Down ♔♕ pt. 4

Warnings: Past Trauma, Eventual Smut, Mature Themes, Violence, Language, Dark Themes Kinda, betrayal, cheating.

@talkingsperm @urmyhopeeee

..........

Supervillain stared at her.

She looked so peaceful, so innocent and kind. But he knew it was a lie, he had heard of her extraordinary powers. It was why his father had picked her.

This marriage was being forced on her as much as it was being forced on him. He didn't want to marry anyone, he was better off alone without someone to stop him. Much less a hero.

Plus, he didn't need some type of weakness.

He was in the comfort of his limo, the young hero laid on the other side of the seat. She was out of it, being injected with something that will knock someone out for 72 hours. The heroes were smart to create something like that.

They were heading to the airport so they can leave for Venezuela. His stepmother and people had probably all heard the news, along with the rest of the world. Amazing, he thought sarcastically.

He picked up his tablet where Hero's information was set up, he read through all of it.

It was impressive. She was impressive.

She was brought to the Organization when she was 3 by Superhero mysteriously. Her powers were like no other, on top of that, she could control people if she trained hard enough.

She had the potential to become the most powerful women in the world. And yet, the industry were probably holding her back.

He glanced towards her, noting her chestnut colored hair and pink lips. He narrows his eyes at her, he could tell she was also an innocent in this, seeing as she was forced to marry him. He wouldn't blame her.

But he wanted too, even though it wasn't her fault.

His father was an idiot. What good would this do? Nothing. The hero industry was stupid, really stupid and idiotic. The level of selfishness they had was beyond any villains selfishness. Atleast Villains actually did what they wanted too, the heroes only wanted fame, glory and money.

He looks up when he sees them approaching the airport. He puts the iPad down, looking at Hero.

.....

Hero blinks, feeling a headache coming on. A groan escapes, her hand going to her head. She slowly sits up, ignoring the stiffness of her back and neck.

"About time you woke up,"

Hero jumps, squealing. She turns towards the side to see......

Supervillain staring at her, his face emotionless.

She swallows hard, trembling slightly. This couldn't be possible, she couldn't be in front of history's most ruthless killer. The last thing she remembers is...being tranquilized by Superhero.

Supervillain tilts his head, watching as many emotions pass through the little hero's face. Confusion, pain, sadness, betrayal and fear.

Hero hesitatinly look at Supervillain, her hands shaking. "Where am I?" She asks, surprised that her voice didn't waver.

Supervillain walks away from the her. "You are on my private jet and we are on our way to Venezuela, in case your wondering, Superhero darted you." He tells her with a shrug.

Hero only stares at him.

Reality of everything set in. Superhero had really just given her away, like a mare. Like she was something to be bought over. Like an object or thing. He had given her to the villains.

All because she was the best, but she didn't think so. The only good thing about her was her powers, that's probably why he picked her. Why give her away? Because of her powers.

All because of her damn powers.

She should have run away.

Supervillain leans back against the side bar, his eyes still on her. "If your gonna run or try to stop this marriage, don't. I've already tried," he grumbles.

"Mastermind..." Hero trails off.

"He's still with Superhero and the others. He needs to clear a few things, maybe get another hero." Supervillain shrugs.

"Than why pick me?" Hero frowns.

"Why not pick you?" Supervillain raised an eyebrow. "I didn't pick you, my father and Superhero did."

Hero looks away, crossing her arms. She trembles, shivering. "Is there no way out of this?" She asks quietly.

"I'm afraid not," Supervillain rolls his eyes. "I tried to stop it, but they are hellbent on this marriage. Consent or not." He scowls, glaring out the window.

"Why would you agree?"

Supervillain scoffs. "You think I agreed to this? I didn't. Mastermind is making me do this, little Hero. I don't have a fucking choice in this," he scowls, glancing at her with his cold eyes.

Hero flinches.

"I've accepted this as a business proposal, nothing else. It's about time you probably do too." Supervillain says. "It there was a way to stop this, I would. However, the hard drive is really...valuable." He trails off.

"Your not gonna give them the real one." Hero realizes, "Your gonna give them a copy."

Supervillain turns to her, a smirk growing on his lips. "Superhero was right, you are intelligent. You must be the first hero I have met who isn't dumb and only out for glory."

Hero narrows her eyes at him, clenching her fists.

Supervillain eyes her, looking a bit impressed. "And your not scared unlike some people..." he hums. "Superhero also said you could think like a villain to catch the villains and criminals, I'm wondering if it's true or not."

Hero clenches her jaw.

"Because to be honest. I don't see it," He moves closer towards her. "I wonder, how did you figure it out?"

"I'm not stupid." Hero says, almost quietly. "When Mastermind first proposed the idea I had an inkling of what might happen. Your villains, your not loyal to anyone but yourselves. Plus, trading a hard drive that may just help you win this stupid war?" She raised an eyebrow. "You guys aren't stupid to give it away for one measly hero."

Supervillain stares at her.

Hero gets up, standing in front of him. Her eyes were like a raging fire as she glared at him. "I'm not marrying you, it's not gonna happen." She hissed.

Supervillain continues staring at her.

"Did you hear me?" Her angry eyes were lit like a forest fire, delving deeper in the woods to destroy everything. "This is not gonna happen."

Supervillain smirks.

"What? What are you so smug about?" Hero crosses her arms over her chest, glaring at him.

Supervillain moves closer towards her, causing her to falter slightly. "You must be the first person in the world, other then my father..." he hums, looking her up and down. "...to threaten me and look at me like that."

Hero pauses, breathing heavily.

He walks around her in a circle, humming and eyeing her like a predator does to his prey. "I kinda like it. You have fire," he states, stopping behind her.

He leans in to whisper in her ear. "I love fire." He states.

Hero swallows hard, digging her nails into her palms. She hates this, she hates this so much. "It's not happening," She grits out.

Supervillain snorts, walking away from her. "Yeah. Of course not." He rolls his eyes. "Sweetheart, we don't have a choice."

"But your Supervillain, can't you stoo this?" Hero frowns.

Supervillain shoots her a look, a ironic smile on his face. "I appreciate the fact that you think I'm powerful. But refusing my Father? Yeah, no thank you."

Hero frowns, hugging herself. She's never felt so alone then she has now.

"Besides. It's not we like each other, and it's not like we'll fall in love or something." Supervillain snorts. "We'll just stay out of each other's business. You'll be moving in my Villa for about 3 months and then we have to go back to the Hero Industry for the engagement and the wedding."

Hero lisens keenly, feeling numb. This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to be with...with...Other Hero.

No.

He had cheated on her. With Vigilante of all people, she wasn't even that special! Sure, she had been competing with Hero for best heroic skills and beauty (Which Hero won, both of them) but that doesn't explain why he cheated on her.

She pauses. She remembers his earlier statements. Did he really mean all those hurtful words? Did he really just give her up so he cane number one? What would Sidekick? What would he do without her?

"Then you'll move in with me in my villa," Supervillain starts explaining. "We'll live there with the rest of my family. But don't worry, we won't have to see each other at all." He sighs. "You'll meet my stepmother seeing as you already met Mastermind. You'll meet my half siblings and my little sister."

Hero stays silent.

"Now, let me make one thing clear." Supervillain starts in a low tone. "This is only a marriage of inconvenience, and I'm sure you agree." He looks at her.

Hero nods once.

"Good. Because just like the deal, this marriage is not important." Supervillain scoffs. "And despite what Mastermind wants, it's not happening." He was choosing to not directly say something about the...grandchildren.

Hero agreed. No way, no how. It's not happening. It's never happening. She wanted to ask why he called Masterminds by his name but she wasn't that stupid.

This was still Supervillain. The most dangerous criminal in the world. She wasn't gonna take her chance.

"Now." Supervillain sighs, going to take a seat near the window. "Do you need anything?"

Hero shakes her head, opting to not use her voice.

"Alright. You might wanna sleep for a while." He tell her. "The flight will take a few more hours."

Hero nods silently.

Well, it seems as if her life was beginning to take form. And not in a good way.

[ikeromantic]

CinderAlice pt 4

The winner of the IkeRev 1K AU story poll was Cinderella! Featuring the Black Army guys and Alice as Cinderella. These are the endings for each suitor. Pt. 4/4

Part 1 Part2 Part 3

The days turned to weeks and the season from summer to autumn. Lady Tremaine kept Alice so busy that she had no time for anything but work and sleep. She woke early every morning to begin, and fell into bed late into the night, so tired she barely managed to pry her shoes off before tucking herself in. 

Even with her demanding schedule and all the extra chores, Alice still heard rumors and gossip. The vegetable sellers at the market said Prince Ray was looking for a thief, and the dairy deliveryman said no, it was Sir Oswald hunting for a spy. The butcher told her actually, it was Sir Godspeed and he was seeking his lady love - a mysterious woman he spotted riding through town on a milk-white mare. 

Alice wondered if any of it had to do with her, but she dismissed the thought as silly. She wasn’t a thief or a spy and she hadn’t ridden any kind of horse through town. Maybe something had happened at the ball after she left, or in the days following. She didn’t know, and probably never would. 

That didn’t stop her from thinking about it as she moved around the dining room, preparing for dinner. Alice was lost in thought when . . .

Ray

A familiar dark gray cat darted through the open window. The kitty bounded over the table settings and flung itself under the hem of Alice’s apron. She bent down, a curious smile on her face. “Is that you, Ms. Belle?” 

Alice lifted her apron hem and took a peek at the pink satin ribbon around the cat’s neck. A small, gold tag dangled from it, with the name Belle written in lovely script. “It is you! Oh you silly little thing. This is a long way from the palace.” She scratched the kitty’s head.

“Hey.” 

She jumped, and Belle leapt up onto the chair at the sound of the voice. Her eyes went to the window, where Ray stood, a grin on his face. 

“Didn’t mean to surprise you.” He gestured to the room. “Is it alright if I come in?”

“Yes, of course.” Alice started to move toward the door, but Ray pulled himself in through the window. “Oh! Ok. W-welcome. Are you here for your cat?”

Ray laughed. “Well, she did run off. But actually . . .” He paused, his expression turning serious, “I was looking for you.”

“Me?” Alice startled all over again.

“Yeah. And you’re not exactly easy to find. You didn’t even give me your name, the night of the royal ball. So Belle and I have been looking around town for you for weeks. Trying to find the beautiful girl with a sweet smile.”

She felt her cheeks heat and her pulse began to race. “I’m . . . sorry?”

Ray took a step closer and reached for her hand. He lifted it to his lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of it. “I didn’t come to hear you apologize.” His lips grazed her skin as he spoke, his warm breath dancing over her knuckles. The touch sent a shiver through her that she did her best to hide. 

“I . . . then . . . what?” She stumbled over the words, too distracted by his touch to collect her thoughts. 

“I wanted to see you again.” His green eyes pierced her, his gaze felt as if he studied her soul. “Did you -” he paused and took a deep breath as if to steady himself. “Did you want to see me too?”

Alice nodded, a smile breaking across her face. “I do! I . . . I’ve been thinking about you every day since the ball! But you - you’re a prince and -” She gestured to the ragged clothes she wore, encompassing the whole of her position.

Ray pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. “That doesn’t matter. I’m just glad I found you.” He grinned. “So . . . what is your name? Because I can’t call my girlfriend ‘the mystery woman’.”

She laughed and hid her blushing cheeks against his shoulder. “I’m Alice.”

“Alice.” He said her name with relish, as if tasting it. Ray’s voice was soft, husky. “May I kiss you, Alice?”

“Y-yes. Yes. I’d like that.” Alice tilted her face to him, her eyes fluttering shut as his warm lips gently pressed against hers in a tender kiss. 

When they parted, he still kept his arms around her waist. “Would you come to live in the palace?”

Her eyes went wide with surprise. She wasn’t sure what to say. “But then . . . Druzilla and Anastasia . . . who would cook and clean for them? And Lady Tremaine would be so angry with me.” Alice swallowed, suddenly nervous. The fact was, Lady Tremaine would be furious about all of this.

Ray shrugged, nonchalant. “I bet they can hire someone. And actually pay them.” He frowned at her rags. “Because from here, it looks like you do the work of four and get the pay of none.”

It was true, but Alice didn’t want to speak ill of her stepmother, and so she said nothing.

“I thought so.” Ray poked her forehead. “Don’t put their happiness in front of your own. If you don’t want to live in the palace, say so. But if you do . . .”

“I do.” She took a trembling breath. “It’s just so hard to believe.”

“You better start believing it.” He grinned and lifted her into his arms. “Let’s go. Come on Belle!”

The cat trotted after them as Ray went back out the window with her cradled against his chest. Alice hardly believed it was real. Rescued by a real prince. He was so dashing and romantic that she felt like she was in a fairy tale. 

***

Sirius

A well appointed carriage rolled up the Tremaine estate and stopped by the entry. The royal crest was emblazoned on the side, and the driver wore palace livery. Alice saw it from the kitchen window and hurried to untie her apron and dry her hands. But Anastasia must have spotted it too, and got to the door before Alice could. Druzilla and the Lady herself were only a step behind, all excited as the estate rarely had visitors of note. 

Anastasia opened the door, a polite smile on her lips and a calculating look in her eyes. “May I ask who’s calling?” She batted her eyelashes at the tall figure on the stair.

Alice felt a start of surprise as she saw the visitor from over her step-sister’s shoulder. It was Sirius Oswald, dressed in his official uniform and wearing a solemn expression. 

“Sir Oswald, senior advisor to the king. I’m here on a matter of import to the court, regarding the late Lord Tremaine.”

Anastasia took a step back and welcomed him inside. Druzilla and Lady Tremaine curtsied. Alice tried to, but felt entirely unsteady as Sirius’ gaze fell on her. She couldn’t help but remember what it had felt like to be held by him, her hand in his, as they danced. His warmth and easy affection, and the kindness he’d shown her. 

She ducked her head as he passed, hoping he wouldn’t recognize her in her filthy rags - and half hoping he would because . . . Alice refused to finish that thought. Girlish silliness. No, he was here on business and that was all. 

Lady Tremaine escorted him to the parlor, inquiring politely on his health and family. She bid Druzilla and Anastasia to accompany them and sent Alice for refreshments. 

Sirius did not seem interested in conversation, though he gave polite enough replies. When Alice came back with tea and pastries, he was fending off a too-friendly Druzilla.

She poured the tea and set out the milk and sugar. Just as she turned to go, Sirius’ hand shot out and took hold of her arm.

“You need to be here for this too. After all, you’re the Lord Tremaine’s only child.” He met her trembling gaze with gentle warmth, the violet of his eyes as soft as flower petals. 

“Umm. Alright.” Alice spared a look at Lady Tremaine. Her step-mother was near to quivering with rage. But she couldn’t defy the royal advisor, so she sat as far from the little group as she could, on a stool by the window. 

Sirius gave her a small smile before turning to look at Lady Tremaine. “The Tremaine estate came up in a review of property and inheritance tax. It appears nothing was paid after the Lord’s death and his accounts are being spent out at a high rate. This is concerning to the crown.”

“I - well, I am only a poor widow. I didn’t know there was something we needed to pay to the crown. After my beloved husband passed and left all he owned to me and his daughters -” Lady Tremaine tried to put a mournful expression on her face but it sat awkwardly there.

“He had only one beneficiary, Lady Tremaine.” Sirius interrupted, his voice firm and unyielding as stone. “And it was not you nor your daughters. He left everything to his only natural child, but each time the bank sent a trust letter to her, nothing was ever returned.”

Alice stared, not quite understanding. The Lady told her that her father left nothing for any of them. That the estate and all expenses were being paid from her own pocket, the money left from her family before she married. 

Lady Tremaine frowned, the false sorrow falling from her face like a discarded veil. “I do not know what nonsense you think you have discovered, but I can tell you my husband wouldn’t have dared -”

Sirius interrupted her again, pulling a letter from his pocket. It also bore the royal seal. “Per the dictum of the court and his majesty the prince, you are hereby evicted from this property. Your access to the accounts and incomes of the Tremaine estate are void. You will leave within the hour, or face arrest and imprisonment for theft.” He frowned. “The guards are here to see this royal decree is obeyed in full.”

As he finished, several uniformed men entered the room. 

Druzilla and Anastasia looked as shocked as Alice felt. They turned pleading eyes to her. Lady Tremaine, on the other hand, merely looked furious. She stood, gripping her skirt. “This will not stand! I have friends - family! With influence. You cannot come into my home and -”

“It is not your home.” Sirius gestured, and the uniformed men escorted them out.

Alice watched, still caught in a sense of complete disbelief. 

Sirius stood and crossed the space between them, crouching in front of her stool. “Are you alright, little lady? This must be quite a shock.”

“I - yes. I don’t know. Is all of that true?” She blinked at him, feeling suddenly overwhelmed.

“It is. Your step-mother tried to steal your inheritance.” He took her hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb. “When you ran from the ball, I tried to find you. I had to know who you were. And when I did learn your name, who you are . . .” Sirius sighed. “I found out all the rest too. I couldn’t let this happen to anyone, but especially not you.”

“Especially?” Alice felt a heat creep into her cheeks at the way he said that part. 

Sirius held her gaze, his eyes full of an unexpected affection. “Especially. I know we only just met, but I felt a connection to you. I can tell you have a kind soul. And . . . I wanted to see you again. Ever since I ran into you at the market, actually.”

Alice grinned. “I guess that was a lucky accident for me.”

“More so for me, I think. And then I got to dance with you at the ball.” He kissed her fingertip, his lips only barely brushing her skin. It was enough to send a wave of warmth rushing through her. “When things are settled,” Sirius paused as if unsure whether to say more.

“Yes?”

“I would like to see more of you. A date, if you are willing?”

Alice felt her heart fill to bursting. “I would love to.”

Sirius chuckled, a genuine smile lifting the corners of his lips. “You sound so sure. I’m glad.” He pressed another barely-there kiss to her fingertips.

Alice leaned forward, intending to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned at just the wrong - or perhaps right - moment. Her lips met his for just a breath. A pulse-racing, electric heartbeat, when the satin touch of his mouth touched hers and she felt every nerve in her body light up like fireworks under her skin so that when he pulled back in surprise, it left her aching for more. “I-I’m sure,” she breathed.

***

Luka

There was a knock at the servant’s entrance. Alice quickly dried her hands on her apron and hurried over to open the door. Luka stood there on the step. He was dressed in a suit like the one he’d worn to the ball, and held a bouquet of wildflowers in his hand. His ears peeked redly from beneath his hair and his cheeks were stained as well.

“Luka!” Alice felt so glad to see him that she wanted to hug him. But hugs always made him shy around her, so she restrained herself and just took his hand. She pulled him inside and shut the door. “I haven’t seen you since the ball!”

She couldn’t help but remember how different he’d been that night. The way he’d touched her when they danced, the look in his eyes. Alice glanced away, suddenly feeling awkward herself. 

He nodded. “I tried to come by. But you weren’t home. Or your step-sisters said you were busy.” His voice was very soft, almost hard to hear, and he was gripping the bouquet like it might try to run away.

“Lady Tremaine gave me more chores. I didn’t tell her I went to the ball, but I think she suspects. So . . . I really haven’t been around.” She gestured to the mess on the counter. “I’m supposed to be cooking now.”

Luka took a breath and thrust the flowers toward her. “These are for you.”

Alice took them, her fingers briefly touching his as he passed the bouquet to her. He snatched his hand back as if singed. “Th-thanks.” She wasn’t sure how to react or what she should do. Her feelings were a tangle in her chest, of friendship and something more, and so she just stood there holding them and looking at him.

“Do you . . .” Luka started to ask a question, but his voice trailed into silence. He fixed his stare on the flowers in her hand and tried again. “Do you like me?”

“I - of course?” Alice wanted to put into words the way she’d felt for years as his neighbor, her respect for how hard he worked. Her appreciation for the little moments of kindness he’d showed her. And now the magic they’d shared at the royal ball. Seeing him as something more than a friend. It made her nervous and excited, her heartbeat was racing and her tummy was doing flips. 

He frowned, searching her expression. Whatever he saw there must have encouraged him, because he continued. “You - you looked really . . . pretty. At the ball. But - you, you always look pretty.”

Alice felt her face get hot. “You did too. I mean, you looked really nice. You look nice now.”

“I . . .” Luka trailed off again, staring down now at his empty hands.

Alice turned and set the flowers down, intending to find a vase for them. She thought it would give him some privacy to collect himself. And her as well. Her chest felt tight and hot and tense, waiting to hear what he would say. She nearly jumped in surprise as she felt his arms wrap around her from behind, his chin resting gently on her shoulder. 

“I thought you would meet a noble and fall in love. And I would lose you.” He murmured, barely audible even at this close distance. “That’s why I followed you to the royal ball.” Luka took a trembling breath. “I love you, Alice. I was afraid to tell you.”

Alice felt her heart stutter in her chest. It thudded against her ribcage in a wild, galloping beat that matched the chaos of her emotions. “You . . . love me?” She turned in his arms, her back pressed to the counter. 

Luka nodded, too emotional to say more. 

The words warmed through her like the sun on a chill morning. She wrapped her arms around him to hug him back. “I - I love you too.”

He squeezed her tightly, his face buried in her shoulder. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship . . . but I couldn’t keep it in any longer.”

“It’s ok,” Alice laughed warmly. “I just - I didn’t know. I thought you just saw me as a friend. I liked you so much . . . I didn’t want to mess it up.”

Luka laughed too, looking up at her. His eyes were full of sweet adoration. “Will you come stay with me, then, Alice?”

She felt her eyes sting with happy tears. “Yes.” 

He smiled, then shyly leaned forward and brushed the most chaste kiss to her lips, petal soft and warm and as sweet as honey. Then he pulled back, as if embarrassed. But Alice pulled him close for a second kiss and he didn’t seem to mind that at all. 

***

Fenrir 

The front door burst open. Alice hurried toward it, wondering what could be happening. When she got there, Fenrir stood with his hands on his hips while a few of his knights led her step-mother and step-sisters out. 

“What - Sir Godspeed - what are you doing?” Alice came to a stumbling halt right in front of him, a question on her lips.

He laughed and ruffled her hair. “Prince Ray and me found out Lady Tremaine and her daughters stole your inheritance. So she’s under arrest.”

She blinked, trying to process this piece of information. “My . . . inheritance? But . . . I don’t understand.”

Fenrir wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently guided her outside to one of the garden benches. “After the ball, I went looking for you. You don’t make it easy on a guy!” He grinned at her blush. “But when I found you, all sorts of questions started poppin’ up.”

“Oh.”  Alice looked around the garden, at the profusion of flowers and the tiny butterflies that flitted from one end to the other. He’d looked for her, she thought, and it made something in her chest tighten. “But . . . why did you come looking for me?”

At this, Fenrir laughed. “I thought I told you when we were dancing! You’re a great partner. And I want to dance with you again.”  

His laugh tickled the hairs at the nape of her neck, and his joy was infectious. Still, something tugged at Alice’s heart. Just to dance with, she thought. Someone fun to see at parties. Surely there was more. She turned her head to study him, unsure how to voice this or if she even should say anything more. Afterall, they barely knew each other and yet . . . she felt a connection to him.

It was Fenrir she’d dreamed of these past few weeks. His eyes that held her own with such warmth. His playfulness. His strength. But she couldn’t assume he felt the same. 

“Hey! What’s that look for?” He tapped her nose gently. 

“N-nothing!” Alice felt her face go even hotter. “I’m fine being just your dance partner. When there’s a party. Or, you know, if you just want to go dance.”

Fenrir chuckled, and this time his laugh was low and a little breathy. “Who said I only want to dance with you, Alice?” His face was close to hers and those petal-pink eyes held a heat in them both tender and fierce. 

“Y-you . . .” Alice cleared her throat, but that did nothing to ease the tightness. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, the sound of her pulse loud in her ears. Fenrir’s arm was still draped over her shoulder and every place his skin touched hers was electric. 

“I like you.” He was blushing now too, but he didn’t look away. His gaze was mesmerizing to Alice, and she felt pulled toward him. Fenrir leaned closer to her, his lips almost touching hers. ��May I kiss you?”

She tried to say yes but the word tangled on her tongue and all that came out was a short, sharp breath. 

Fenrir understood though, a slow, heated smile turning his lips up at the edges just before he touched them to hers. His kiss was ferocious, full of a passion like a bonfire, devouring her with warmth and light. He pulled back after a moment, his breath trembling in the air between them. “I wanted to do that for weeks.” His look told her he wanted even more. 

Alice kissed him again, savoring the feel of his body pressed close to hers. There was nothing in the world as sweet as this, she thought. 

When he pulled back the second time, there was something desperate in his expression. A hunger at odds with his gentlemanly dress and manners. “I . . . gotta stand up now. Come on, partner.” He stood and held his hand out to her. 

“W-where are we going?”

“Anywhere. Everywhere. I want to have adventures with you, Alice. Will you stay by my side?”

There was only one answer to that. Alice took his hand. “Everywhere sounds good, as long as I’m with you.”

***

Seth

She let out a sigh. “I wish -”

“To see me again? Wish granted.” The now-familiar voice came from just behind her. 

Alice turned to see her fairy godfather standing there, an insouciant smile on his face. “Seth! You startled me. Again!”

“You look cute when you’re surprised.” 

She blushed at the compliment and looked away, trying to hide it. He had this way of looking at her that made her feel terribly self conscious. Alice cleared her throat. “Ok, but that doesn’t explain why you’re here. There’s no ball today. Just chores.”

Seth laughed, closing the distance between them without taking a step. “You were about to make a wish. And wishes summon fairies.” He tilted her chin up with a fingertip, forcing her to meet his playful, heated gaze. “So tell me, lovely Alice, what is it you wish for?”

“I . . .” Her throat closed tight around the words, unable to speak them because they would admit so much. And her dream felt impossible. 

He gently brushed a lock of hair from her forehead, fingers trailing along the side of her face. His touch was gentle and full of an unspoken affection as he waited for her to get up the courage to speak.

“I wish I was somewhere else, anywhere but here. I want to be happy. I want to feel loved, like I matter . . .” Alice trailed off after the brief outburst, feeling she’d said too much already. 

Seth’s smile was gentle. “Done.” And just like that, they were somewhere else. Alice saw a bustling street below, with market stalls and shops. Her eyes were wide with surprise as she looked around the room. It was a well appointed parlor, nothing as fancy as the Tremaine manor but very nice. There were flowers on the table in impossible colors, and the lamps were glittering magic crystals. 

“I’m afraid happiness is up to you. But I can promise you are loved. And you do matter.” His brown-eyed gaze was warm and intimate, his voice a breathy sigh. He took her hand and clasped it tightly.

Alice leaned into his comforting touch, his words soothing a hurt in her that she hadn’t realized was there. “Seth . . .”

He giggled and spun her around, breaking the moment before Alice could process what he’d said. “So, as your fairy godfather, I am giving you this lovely flat in Central. There’s a teahouse and a pâtissière downstairs, and across the street you’ll find a market with everything else a girl could want.” 

“That sounds nice?”

“Enough to bring a smile to your beautiful face?” Seth’s grin widened and he pulled her into an unexpected embrace. “And if there is something you want, you can just wish for it. Anything.” His words were playful, tickling against her neck. 

Alice slipped her arms around him, and Seth went very still. “What if what I want is . . . you?”

“Then you are a very silly girl.” His voice shook as he said it, and she could not see what expression he made as he hid his face in her hair. “Fairy Godfathers aren’t allowed to fall in love with mortals.”

Alice turned her face to kiss his cheek, putting all the affection she held for him into this one, gentle touch. “I want to know you, Seth. The man holding me right now, not the fairy godfather.”

He shivered, a sigh escaping his lips at her touch. “You might not like him . . .”

“I think I already do,” she countered. “He is kind and funny. And he makes me smile. Seeing him . . . makes me happy.” Alice laid her head against his shoulder, where she could hear the fierce pounding of his heart. “I’d rather have just Seth, than a fairy godfather.”

“Even if just Seth can’t magic you up a fancy gown and carriage?”

Alice laughed softly. “A friend is way more important than those things.”

Seth let out a breath, the tension leaking from him. “I hope I’m more than just a friend.” His hand brushed the nape of her neck, a teasing gentle touch that sent little waves of warmth through her. 

“We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” Alice pulled back from him so that she could see his face.

“We will.” He grinned.

[your-local-uwu-artist]

mysterion design >:D

notes under the cut

-i'm imagining for this au everyone's middle school aged, so still like, kids, just a bit older

-ignore the fact that i fucked up the colors on all the text i SHOULD have had the colors shift between lines it helps legibility but i didn't fsr??? i'll figure that out in later art dw

-GOD THESE COLORS TOOK FOREVER the og colors are SUPER desaturated and also more on the pink side of purple but I prefer to use saturated colors and wanted to go more towards the blue side of purple (than the colors are closer to complimentary colors between mysterion and kenny)

-ended up going with a very soft look (rounded edges and ovals and softer lines) i was thinkng off of the batman inspo actually and thinking about that scene in the lego batman movie where the brick notes batmans design isn't very hero looking, i mean it is by western standards but like when i think of a good hero and symbol of justice and hope i think of twintaild magical girls with ultra frilly skirts and cute mascots and sparkles and stars everywhere but like.. i'm biased.... anyway I chose the softer lines to make him feel softer and instead relied any edgy vibes on the colors and body language rather than the shapes (i mean i still used triangles but yeah)

-I ended up not going with brown boots cause i didn't want to have to tie in another color, and i had the epic idea of the little question mark symbols on the soles of the shoes and the m logo on the ... toungue i think it's called?

-so I originally wasn't gonna show his hair but I thought it would help to balance the colors more as the white shorts felt too bright

-i didn't plan to post this or else i would've tried to better phrase all the writing lmao

-i went with rounded feet to make him feel like, floaty?

-one smaller challenge was keeping a short stature for kenny while still making him look like, menancing and powerful, another reason why i went with the graceful floaty feet, I also had the shorts flair out with that triangle shape like they do to emphasize and blend together the general shape of the body

-miiight have accidentally made him more androgynous~ my ass spent years studying and learning how to make characters appear masculine than said 'yeah no thankyou everyone is going to be at least a LITTLE bit pretty <3'

-ah look how nice and not over crowded the doodles are... yeah say goodbye to empty space cause Cartman/theCoon's completely lacks it. I like drawing fluffy animal ears and found the need to label all the drawings "furry" or "menance" so yeah

-i'm that one bitch that says fuck canon even canon doesn't give a shit bout canon so why should i? and never draws kenny with blue eyes, always either light brown or preferrable purple. mostly cause i feel blue + blonde is too basic and I find that the purple makes for a nicer contrast and overall pallete. Cause brown kinda just blends in, cause then his entire color scheme is all within the same hue range, but purple sticks out better + leaning into the magenta side of it looks great with orange

-petition for the southpark fan wiki to acknowledge how fuckign similar Mysterion and the mysterious mare do well are

-funfacts!! considered having the buckles be silver instead of gold (changed to balance with the blonde hair and tie back in the orange/yellow hues) considered having the inside of the cape be a lighter shade of purple either pulling in more pink or blue tinted shades, changed cause it made the overall color scheme to bright

-in case you were wondering 90% of my art has the same stupid level of thought put into it as posts i do add notes onto, I just figured most people don't want a ramble about shape launguage and colors on their silly blorbo fanart posts lmao. but if you find any of this interesting or heck if you ever have a ramble about your own art my inbox is always open~ i love getting to discuss drawing :D

[temporalreverie]

ponysona ref sheet :3

[text transcript: Carrie Go-Round, or Carrie for short It/She, Trans Mare, Lesbian Can prance through air with its saddle on. Gives carousel sky-rides to help others. It likes going around again, solving puzzles, helping with problems, music, good fortune, and going around again. Beholden to the whims of its fate & cycles, it tries its best to be carefree but secretly feels aimless at times.]

Extended character bio & art process thoughts below the cut v

Carrie Go-Round is a unicorn with carousel themed magic. Carousel magic works in mysterious ways. It can direct the magic somewhat and hone certain patterns through repetition, but it’s ultimately at the whims of the fate chosen for it. Usually everything works out just fine though.

While actively using its carousel magic and wearing its saddle, it can prance on top of air. It takes others on rides through the sky using this, giving them time and space to think through a problem they’ve been having. These rides can involve a conversation, a magical spectacle of lights and music, or simply peace and quiet, whatever will help the other pony best. Flying, putting on light shows, and making music are all come naturally when the magic is in service of another.

Carrie has adapted an outwardly carefree and playful nature. It’s partially its true self, and partially a defense mechanism in response to the lack of control that the carousel makes it feel. When you’re stuck going around in one big circle, it’s easy to feel aimless and confused. Helping someone else with a problem of theirs always makes it feel better though. It's also fond of rhymes, puzzles, and riddles.

It’s somewhat taller than average. Not very strong, but when its magic is active any passengers feel light as a feather. Both the color and shape of its hair is all natural.

—

Art process thoughts:

An idea for a ponysona design popped into my head the other day and I'm really happy with how it turned out! Multiple times I've played with designing a ponysona by taking more grounded and literal elements of myself but none of those struck me as exciting or fun. Being freely indulgent and overdesigning a pastel magic horse is way better.

In terms of the drawing itself, this is probably the closest you'll ever see me mimic the G4 artstyle! I referenced a couple screenshots of pinkie to get an idea for scale, and then I cut apart my rough sketch into chunks so I could stretch out the neck & back because I like when the bodies are longer than proportions on the show. This also doubles as making its tallness present in the art but really I would've done that regardless.

The carousel concept is a fun way to tie in the colorful aesthetics with themes of cycles and fate. Girls love to be stuck in a loop of mayyyybe their own choosing. And it also means I get to bring back the saddle & bridle fashion concept Lauren Faust considered for the show's pitch bible. It's definitely kind of weird but in a fun way.

Carrie Go-Round like Merry-go-round but also like Carrie short for Carousel but also like Carry because she physically carries other ponies & helps lift them emotionally. Do you get it.

This is my first time adding ALT text to my images; I did my best to be thorough but not too verbose.

Miscellaneous design thoughts: I love pink and green together! IRL horse coat patterns are so so cute I wish more MLP characters had them. Plus the bubbly shapes on the hooves match her cloud prancing. Duality is everything to me: two different shapes and colors of hair, two symbols on its cutie mark, two little eyelashes. Although I tried less to make it look like me, its hair still has the same general shape (however mine will only rarely form curls like that all on its own). Also the cutie mark arrows being green is a slightly inspired by a real dream I had about getting my cutie mark:

I've been meaning to make a ponysona for a long time now. All in all this was very fun to do and now I'm excited to draw more of my own OCs and their interactions.

[ask-whiteblade]

[Vantas] It was like a blur... One moment Whiteblade was experiencing her everyday life, and the next? She was walking into a private gambling booth of a Casino. Black curtains closing behind her as lights flickered against purple wallpaper.

Smoke was in the air, a dealer table laid front and center as a grey stallion tapped his hoof against it's velvet surface.

"Well if this isn't a surprise!" He'd say, a smile wide on his lips as his pink eyes shined. Instinct screamed at her, that he was dangerous. "An infamous challenger, that's what you are Whiteblade..."

He chuckles, before pushing aside chips and cards-- to slide a black piece of parchment and a dice on top.

"Would you like to take a risk with me?"

The sun had been so bright before the mare slowly entered a dark space that she had not seen coming. Perhaps after blinking, or simply because she was in her thoughts for a short time. But the next moment, the place lit by an autumnal sun gave way to a dark room that inspires only mourning and death.

Her ears perked up in surprise before dropping violently as the curtain suddenly closed behind her like a pair of wings barring her exit. But as if her magic had gone out or her movements were not inviting her to try to get out, she just watched the closed curtain for the next few seconds, totally unsure of what had just happened, before the room at her back took shape.

The stallion at the table laughed and smiled ominously. His harmless appearance did not inspire her confidence and her mind was screaming at her to leave, now, because danger was imminent. So why was she standing there, watching him as if he were a fascinating phenomenon, yet one that inspired her distrust?

Besides… why did he look so familiar?

As he spoke her name, White Blade was suddenly lit up by a spotlight above her head as if she were on a stage. She felt the wave of magic suddenly envelop her and clothe her with a strange sensation. By the time she looked at herself, her mane had been manipulated, a red scarf encircled her neck, and a black dress was now what she was wearing.

But a strange feeling also accompanied her mind. As if everything suddenly became appropriate, or rather… that she couldn't escape it. The place was suddenly transformed into a chic casino and that she was quite fit to participate in what the stallion in front of her was proposing.

He pushed with his hoof a dark parchment and a strange die.

A risk, eh?

Her emerald magic took hold of the parchment to read the contents and already it seemed like something that made no sense, but that only added to this dangerous mystery… What did she gain by participating in this?

And what did she gain by not participating?

She and the stallion exchanged a long look. Words were not necessary in a situation like this… She simply dropped the dice disdainfully on the velvet table… two bounces were enough for the dice to roll on one or two sides… and for the number of destiny to present itself to them as a sentence… the blade of the guillotine coming down on them in a way as sharp as it was cutting.

"Love?" Said White Blade suddenly, as if it made no sense.

-

HERE - Next

Mod : nice little challenge and it's been a long time since I drew so much in such a short time. So here is my participation to this activity and WhiteBlade fell on Love? Chance has chosen.

Thank you @mymind-theirvisions your character was very nice to draw ^^

-

Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, Facebook - @basykail 

Autres blogs - @fate-inspiration @ask-whiteblade 

[ask-the-cosmic-duo]

A Visit to the Doctor, Part 2

True to form as Stella said, the pink nobody's presence is sensed, vaguely, as if she's masking it… She watched until needed, though looking closely, it may be possible to spot her transparent form lurking atop a nearby tree…

In this weird state, Stella was more aware than normal. After a few moments, she spotted Purple, pointing at her like a dork. "Pink mare!"

The half-transparent mare kneeling on a branch merely faces Stella, tilting her head, but doesn't say anything, merely continuing to watch. As to why she's half transparent? Magic, likely, an enchanted ring or band, probably.

"Oh," says Time Turner, following Stella's gaze to the mystery pony's location, "hello there Purple. What is the reason you are cloaked in shadow?”

"Watching and waiting to see how this plays out," The Nobody responds. "Though it seems you both have a sharp eye to spot me, despite my enchantments... A shame, really. I'd have preferred to stay hidden." She hopped out of the tree, landing deftly on the ground.

Stella seemed to not have noticed the state she was in right now, as she shrugged in response to Purple's apparent disappointment. "Well, I'm kinda stuck, and I need help. Doc is saying I can't control the void without merging Nighty back into me, but I don't wanna do that." She looked to the side, clearly not very happy about that. "She deserves to live just as much as anypony else."

Stardust raised an eyebrow beneath her hood. While it wasn't quite visible due to said hood, one could still feel it in the air, so to speak. "And you didn't think to ask one of the two Nobodies you're friends with?" She asks in a monotone voice. "The ponies made out of something very similar to void... stuff?"

"I- ..." Stella sighed. "Just call it void magic or something, I dunno. I wasn't sure if you'd be familiar with actually using that power, I guess..." She shook her head, trying to focus herself. "Are you? I really hope you are. I have no idea if Nighty knows anything, and... I'm hesitant to tell her about the alternative."

"... I'm made of something similar, if not the exact same thing. Nobodies are born from nothing, after all... In a sense, at least."

"Oh. Right." She was pretty sure the two energies were at least similar. "Then... do you think you can help?"

"I can at least attempt to, that much I can do." Stardust was pretty casual about the whole thing, not really caring one way or the other. Well, aside from Stella being her friend for a long time.

"Mmm." She turned back to the Doctor. "Think this'll work, Doc?"

"I don’t see why not," the Doctor said with a nod. "Go ahead, Purple."

The white-maned mare nodded back, taking the enchanted band off of her forehoof. She was now properly visible instead of being almost see-through, facing Stella to ask, "So what do you... exactly know of nothingness, if that makes sense?"

"Uhh..." The cosmic unicorn thought about that for a moment. She knew a bit about the void, perhaps without realizing at the time, because she apparently utilized its power to create much of her dimensional tech. But nothingness? She wasn't sure she knew much of anything about that.

"I'm not sure... All I know as fact is what you said, that nothingness and the void are at the very least similar, so any knowledge I have of it is based on that."

Stardust listened, and nodded. "Well, if you've ever been near death, and felt... something, you've probably felt, for lack of a term, nothingness."

"Weird... So that's what that was?" She continued thinking. Nothingness... The closer you are to death, the closer you are to nothingness? Perhaps she was more familiar with it than she realized. Especially when, several times before, she's...

"Interesting." She finally looked down at her hooves, only to realize something was... different.

//Yep, the thing finally finished a day or two ago, and this is getting released an entire day before the end of the poll, almost exactly. Weird how things work out, huh?

//Yeah, there's gonna be a third part. Depending on how long it ends up being, there might also be a fourth. Then, uh... probably another pause, as I need to play out what happens next. Sorry!

//Image of the Doctor is cropped. Full picture is by @arcanethunder.

//Yes, I found it, and I edited the last part to have the credit as well.

//Image of Stardust/G1 Twilight is cropped. Full image is by (at)mulepaws on Twitter.

//I'd link their Tumblr, but it doesn't seem like the blog belongs to them anymore? Either that, or they just don't post art there, but I'm confused either way.

[goldshadowsarchive]

◈   TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER!

favourite colour(s): pink but i love all the colours.

favourite flavour(s): strawberry. lemon. chocolate. 

favourite genre(s): (murder) mystery. action. thriller.

favourite music: all over the place, don't ask. mostly pop, i guess?

favourite movie(s):  the nice guys. truman show. catch me if you can. lilo & stitch.

favourite series: LOST. bob's burgers. bojack horseman. 

last song: poplar street by glass animals.

last series: rewatching bob's burgers again. last new series: mare of easttown.

last movie: promising young woman, i think.

currently reading: one by one by ruth ware. this is how you lose the time war by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. a good girl's guide to murder by holly jackson.

currently watching: bob's burgers lmao.

currently working on: drafts / ask, prioritizing where my energy goes.

tagged by: @dereiserne <3 tagging: @couldfight / @pcraspcra / @fyrewalks / @leschanceux / @doctordonovan / @yoakkemae / @rottweilerrr / @kurjaks / @patternsrhyme / @stitchfastened / @whcwashe / @wtrss / @holyfailed + whoever wants to steal this from me! ( i definitely didn't see that the title said nine people oop my bad )

[artsygummlpart]

I'm Datin' a Demon - Chapter 1 - Summonin'

This fanfic is written by myself and my GF @sigmath-bits

Trigger warnings - Blood, ritualistic self-harm, and swearing 

Outside, the sun is lowering toward the horizon, causing a warm orange glow to cast across the scattered pink clouds of the sky.

Inside of the Golden Oak Library, Twilight sits alone in the dim light that pours in. She is reading a mysterious green-spined book. The cover is a deep charcoal black adored with a blood-red demonic symbol. A polished grey mechanical hoof is flicking through the pages. Her right hoof is keeping her balance. Each page consists of arcane text and symbols.

“Hmmm, surely it will work this time without incident,” she thinks aloud to herself.

She stops at a page, reading over it. She narrows her one good eye as she reads a passage, a gauze bandage wrapped around the left side of her face.

“Spiiiiiike!”

Spike walks clumsily up the stairs from the basement, watching his feet over a bunch of black-coloured candles he holds in his arms. “I’m coming! I’m coming!”

“Good.”

Her eyes scroll across the page, furrowing her brow with an exhale. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

She rolls up the right sleeve of her dark grey jacket with a hoof. A red glow forms around her horn as she magically levitates the book to her nearby book stand in the centre of the room. From the same table she levitates a silver razor-sharp ornate knife with runic carvings etched into it.

With a swift motion she slashes the knife across her right forearm.

“FUCK!”

The blade clatters to the oak floor, along with a few trailing drops of blood. Her teeth clench as she wets the hard metallic surface of her robotic hoof with the blood from the wound. Walking around the room, her hoof draws a large precise circle with an inscribed six-pointed star resembling her cutiemark inked in her blood. The blood dries out from her metal hoof just as she finishes the inscription.

She tends to her wound. “Spike, quickly! Place the candles already, dammit!”

He nods. Quickly yet carefully he places each candle in their proper place.

“Phew … Twi, we should really take a long break from all this demon summoning stuff…” He gives an exasperate sigh. “Remember what happened to you last time? I mean, look at you! Have you told Princess Celestia yet?” Spike tilts his head towards Twilight with with a concerned frown.

Twilight rolls her one eye, issuing an annoyed grunt. “They don’t need to know!” She shakes her head. “Besides, I have everything under control, Spike. Now, please, just light the candles!”

“Fine…”

One by one, he breaths his green flame on each candle, lighting them. The blood-enscribed circle glows a soft red and fills the air with a low quiet hum.

“Yes, perfect!” She grins manically, rubbing her hooves together.

The black and green-spined book levitates back over to her within a red glow. She begins to recite an incantation from the page.

“Kcab gnir binome dash, tpe deht htae neb morfk. Calb foseld nacd, erfog nir!”

The final word leaves her lips and the candle flames grow to an unnatural height, towering tall above the two figures. Green and yellow swirls dance in Twilight’s wide eager eyes, her lips pursed in a joyful smirk.

The library door is swung open violently, crashing loudly into the wall. Twilight turns her head sharply toward the door.

“Hey, Twi!” Obliviously barreling in is a bright cyan mare adorned with a black leather jacket and a shaven rainbow mow-hawk dyed black at the root. “Ya’ busy?”

Looking up to the tall green flames, her hooves touch the ground. “W-What the—?”

Twilight grits her teeth in anger. “Dash! Now’s not the time! I’m in the middle of something!”

Suddenly, the swirling green flames erupt into a volcanic tower of glowing light at the exact moment the sun sets below the horizon outside. The sky is painted a blood red as the clouds swirl around the Golden Oak Library in a vortex of fury, air screaming in through the open door.

The flames finally dissipate and the sky suddenly clears. Left amidst the aftermath is the dark silhouette of a unrecognisable pony-like figure with spired tall horns, sharp pointed ears, and a thin rattling tail that trails behind her across the floor.

Rainbow Dash sits in silence with her mouth agape.

“Woah.”

DA ver https://www.deviantart.com/artsygum/art/I-m-Datin-a-Demon-fanfic-Chapter-1-Summonin-951223364

Twitter ver https://twitter.com/ArtsyGum/status/1629760582340468736

[one-heck-of-a-mess]

Prompt #2: MLP Superhero AU

Hey! I have another Idea, and it's going to follow Octavia!

In the, city of Manehattan, There is a Pony called Octavia Melody who is a musician by day... but by night she is crime-fighting superhero Called Saint Symphony. you see, one day a radioactive meteor hit Manehattan causing people in a 5 mile radius to gain superpowers. Octavia happened to be near the meteor's blast zone at the time (she was leaving from a bad gig at the time, yeah her music career is not going well, right now in the big city) and gained Super Strength. from that day forward she became Saint Symphony who has her trusty Cello to beat up Villains with. she is in a superhero team called S.U.G.A.R.C.U.B.E (it stands for Superpowered United Guardians, Agents, and Rescuers, Combating Ultimate Baddies Everywhere). it's also okay for superheroes to know another superhero's identity since that is apart of the new invented Superhero code (the superhero code is still being workshopped on it's rules).

Now for the other teammates:

Multi-Mare: a pink energetic pony who can clone herself, she is the fun one of the group. her real identity is Pinkie Pie a baker who works at The Sugarcube Corner (it's a chain of bakeries in this universe). Pinkie Pie loves to party and is a jokester and still acts the same the way as Multi-Mare (I'm surprised no one has figured out there the same person yet).

Lady Stonesight: a grey pony who can turn a pony to stone with one glare. her real identity is Maud Pie, the sister to Pinkie Pie and she is living in Manehattan because she is in university to get a degree on geology (only so she can understand rocks. she did this to help with her family's rock farm.) now unlike Pinkie Pie who is not very good at hiding her identity, Maud is. she doesn't speak in her superhero form, she acts mysterious and uses the shadows cleverly. Saint Symphony and Wildshape doesn't really know how Lady Stonesight and Multi-Mare are related but they do know they are both weird in different ways.

Wildshape: a big strong stallion who can shapeshift into any animal and I mean any animal. now as a superhero he is Confident and flashy but when he is in his actual identity as Big Mac, he doesn't talk very much and acts quiet. he is Manehattan because the orange family asked him to move to the farm with them (yes in this au, Big Mac was asked instead AJ). if Wildshape shapeshifts too much, then he will look a mixed-match abomination and this last for at least 2 hours.

Relationships Between The Teammates:

Saint Symphony: She is friendly with Multi-Mare and respects her for how she sees things in a different perspective, she will never understand Lady Stonesight but also respects her and is the closest with Wildshape over the others.

Multi-Mare: She's Freindly with everyone really, even Villains!

Lady Stonesight: she's a mystery to everyone, even Saint Symphony and Wildshape who know her identity. the only person who is the closest with her out of the team and knows her really well is obviously Multi-Mare who's her sister.

Wildshape: Doesn't really understand Lady Stonesight but is on good terms with her, is even more confused with Multi-Mare and just questions what is exactly going through that mare's mind and is the closest with Saint Symphony out of the other's on the team and even respects her the most.

I hope this is a good idea, and also I know I could've just put the relationships with their descriptions But it's already typed now so...

[onomatopagu-et-cie]

@mare-sanguis !

You really have a sharp eye, gazing at that pixelated bouquet for some time would’ve given me a migraine for sure, mad respect for your research 🫡

-> No. 1 at the center definitely looks like a rose (it’d be hilarious if it was actually the Great Maiden’s Blush!), idem for No. 3 = Gerbera Daisy (such a lovely flower by the way!)

-> No. 2 looks ‘fluffier’ like a peony! And on that topic I didn’t know at all there was a myth linked to peonies :O

-> No. 4 could be a hibiscus as you said, the center looks as vivid! And yes indeed, the 무궁화/rose of Sharon is emblematic in SK and its culture (eg. the National Assembly and the Executive or the Police adopted it as an emblem)!

-> As for the blueish-purple flowers, it’s more than pixelated, it’s pure blur haha (we can only see the dark blue/purple fading into a paler color on the end of its petals!)! Just throwing random flowers I’m thinking of, but perhaps some are anemones or pansies, who knows 8D?

I’m not really knowledgeable in Hindu mythology, so it was a great read (and damn: « The flower is a symbol of the blood lust that possesses her. With her representing a form of energy, this blood symbolism becomes life-affirming- it ties her to life force. » :O), thank you once more 💚

Just like there’s an English/Victorian floriography, there are many various languages of flowers in the world (eg. the Japanese hanakotoba/花言葉).

I tried looking for the kr meaning of the flowers you mentioned:

— Pink rose: Admiration, wonder Gratitude, appreciation, thanks Faithfulness, sincerity Elegance, grace An oath of love

Pale pink rose: Admiration, reverence (존경, I believe it’s the same word KMC used when he said KSJ is the only one he trusted and looked up to in ep. 7), also the meaning of the coral rose Compassion Gentleness, tenderness Warm-heartedness, affection Once again the « 나의 마음 그대만이 아네 » (Only you know my heart) Praise ie. act of honoring or complimenting the beauty and greatness of something or someone

Peach rose = aspiration, longing (ie. strong desire or craving for something) Pale peach rose = modesty, humility ie. a mindset or attitude wherein the person respects others and acts humbly

Orange rose = confession of first love, shyness or bashfulness ; desire, longing, elation/passion, charm/fascination

— Carnation = love (or maternal love in particular) ; I also found elsewhere that carnations in general can mean « 당신을 열애합니다 » (I love you ardently/passionately)

White carnation = « 나의 애정은 살아있습니다 » (My love/affection is alive, and I believe it’s also a flower to celebrate parents)

— Peony = shyness, bashfulness

— Gerbera (Daisy) = mystery (ie. surprising, mysterious phenomenon that cannot be understood with common sense), a riddle/mystery/enigma that cannot be solved

— Hibiscus = a delicate beauty ; a new love ; « 아무도 모르게 혼자 간직해온 사랑 » (A love I’ve kept to myself, that nobody knows)

Hibiscus Syriacus = politeness/courtesy, intimacy/friendship, quietness/suggestiveness (은근) ; patience or endurance/tenacity/resilience (끈기) ; delicate beauty

— Anemone = love’s pain, expectation (ie. waiting and hoping for something to happen) ; and many messages eg. « I’ll give you my everything because I love you », « I’ll love you forever », « Even if you don’t love me back, I’ll still love you », « Please don’t forget me ».

— Pansy = « 나를 생각해주세요 » (Please think of me)

You’re making a valid point: the fact that KMC had that dream again might be a subconscious reaction to what he witnessed (and whatever association he made with his mother’s tragic death) BUT the same might also be said of some elements featured in this recurrent nightmare (eg. they might be symbolic and not necessarily anchored in the reality, or they might be multiple random elements of his past life amalgamated together)!

« Plus, Choi Jinsu asks "if he had that dream again"- which indirectly sounds like something isnt adding up with what actually happened that day his mother got killed. » -> either it’s as you said, or it might be that KMC couldn’t let go of the circumstances revolving around her death he always found suspicious, unlike what the detectives in charge have concluded for example (especially if there was some pressure from the higher-ups/Min Jiyoung if she’s involved)!

The dream might’ve haunted him ever since for that reason! Hope we’ll learn more about it in the next episode 🙏

Since we’re on the topic of flowers and birth flowers (탄생화) was mentioned in one of the letters, here’s a side note:

— KSJ’s (he was born on August 16, 1980 based on his registration number) = tamarind (luxury)

— KMC’s & Narae’s, September 17 = erica (solitude, white = protection ; purple = admiration, reverence ; pink = luck, fortune)

— June 1st = Great Maiden’s Blush as the letter mentioned ; according to his registration number, he’s born on December 30, 2000 so the mention of this flower in the letter at least is not related to his birthday (provided he was the author of the letter!)

Hope I helped contributing a bit to these nice details!

The Flowers

Notes on "Ambidextrous Angle" here

Notes on "Lady Justice" here

@onomatopagu-et-cie brings up the "Great Maidesn Blush" and the bouquets of flowers KMC was holding in his nightmare in the analysis of ep.8 (and ep.9) here

These two things had intrigued me right from the start. Flower language and the mythologies behind them was always such an interesting topic to research thats why I sat down and started my research.

And quite honestly, it took me a LOT of hours to figure out which flowers they could potentially be because its just so blurry but nonetheless, I came up with a few types. Please keep in mind this is all just speculation based on intense observing, comparing of flowers and ceremonial (graduation, work, wedding etc) bouquets.

I marked the flowers with numbers and added pictures for comparison, so its easier to distinquish them when I talk about them and their meanings.

Flower 1 is most definitely a rose- tho I'm not sure what type as there are way too many which also makes it quite difficult to get behind the meaning of the flower. Tho we can base the meaning on the color shown which are orange, white and slight rosé/peach touch.

Orange- Enthusiasm, Energy, Passion

White- New beginnings, Innocence, Purity, Remembrance, Spirituality

Pink- Grace, Elegance, Gratitude, Appreciation

Peach- Appreciation, Sincereity, Gratitude

Flower 2 was a lot more difficult to make out, but my first guess was White Carnation. A friend guessed a White Peony- which in the end does fit the shape of the petals more.

White Peonies are usually used in bouquets for weddings- they symbolize faith, hope, purity and innocence. In general, peonies symbolize new beginnings.

There also are several interesting myths connected to peonies, one goes as followed:

"According to ancient Greek mythology, a divine drama inspired the name of the peony. Like so many stories, this one begins with war. Herakles, the greatest of great Greek heroes, and Pluto, the god of the underworld, find themselves on the opposing sides. During a spectacular battle, Herakles manages to wound Pluto with an arrow to the shoulder. Not being used to being wounded, the god of the underworld retires to Mount Olympus. When he can’t find the god of medicine, Asklepios, he asks one of his students to help him. This happens to be the talented god Paean. He heals the dishevelled deity by sheer talent and a new kind of medicine: a beautiful flower growing on Mount Olympus. Paean’s career as a great doctor is thus set but his teacher Asklepios is deadly jealous. Asklepios decides to murder his student to prevent further embarrassment. Zeus, finding the body of Paean, decides to honour the ambitious student by transforming him into the beautiful flower that saved Pluto’s life.

Flower 3 could be a yellow/orange Gerbera Daisy. The petals and the pistil (center part) look similar. They symbolise innocence, purity, cheerfulness and loyal love. Orange Geberas also convey that the person you present it to is the sunshine of your life. Besides, they also express your attachment with the person. They also are a rather common type of flower found in ceremonial (especially graduation) bouquets

In Egyptian mythology Geberas represent the closeness to nature (mother earth) and devotion to the sun. In Celtic Mythology Gerbera Daisies mean that everyday hardship and sorrow can be lessened and made sweet. It is believed, going by an old Celtic legend that God sprayed these daises over the earth when a child passed away, this was a way to give their parents a little joy. For Norse mythology, one of its legends states that Freya, the goddess of love, fertility, and beauty, has the daisy as her sacred flower.

Flower 4 is most definitely a Hibiscus (Syriacus). The petals are identical and so is the pistil. You can also see the trade mark color fade from a dark color to a light color on the petals. The color is a dark pink fading into a light pink. The pistil is yellow.

They are frequently linked to matters of the heart. Their vibrant, intense colors, particularly the deep red varieties, evoke feelings of love and passion. In some societies, giving a hibiscus flower to someone can convey a romantic message or symbolize the intensity of one's feelings.

The Hibiscus Syriacus is also the national flower of South Korea.

In Hindu mythology, hibiscus flowers accompany the goddess Kali, the goddess of power.

Kali is form of the Devi/Shri, the supreme mother in Hinduism. Devi was willed into existence by the gods, who each gave a piece of themselves to create her, and when she was fully formed, they—the gods—worshipped her in part because she was a perfect embodiment of all of them. This representation was somewhat self-serving: They had been at war with the demon king Mahishasura. During a break in the battle, Mahishasura declared himself Ruler of the Universe and began to march on Heaven to claim his prize with an army of demons. The gods created Devi out of the best of each of them to defend them, and gifted her with things that were sacred to them: Shiva gave her a trident drawn forth from his own, Vishnu a powerful discus, and Indra, the king of the Gods, gave her a thunderbolt identical to his own. Surya, the sun God, bestowed his rays on all the pores of her skin, and Varuna, god of the ocean, gave her a divine crest jewel, earrings, bracelets and a garland of unfading lotuses. So armed, she met the army of Mahishasura and slaughtered them. She met Mahishasura himself and killed him after a fierce battle. So great was her fury that though the fight had ended, she continued to rage through the battlefield. In giving her so many aspects, the gods had also given Devi many forms. Consumed by rage, Devi was had fully given herself over to an aspect of her personality tied to Kali, a goddess known for destruction. The gods realized they needed to stop her, but they were all were afraid. Shiva, the god of time and change (Kali’s male counterpart), went down to the battlefield, and laid down. Kali continued to dance until she looked down and realized she was stepping on Shiva. She was embarrassed because in that form, Shiva was a her husband. She withdrew her rage and to demonstrate her shame, stuck out her tongue, which is how she is often depicted.

-> The red hibiscus is representative of Kali's tongue. But should not be mistaken for her shame. The flower is a symbol of the blood lust that possesses her. With her representing a form of energy, this blood symbolism becomes life-affirming- it ties her to life force.

There also are two (?) flowers which seem blueish-violet.

Which kinda feels like a callback to the OST Part.3 (Blue by Aalia) and how a lot of scene set in the present between KSJ and KMC are submerged in blue tones

If my anaylsis is correct all flowers i managed to find out represent something along the lines of Love, Passion and Loyality which, if you would ask me, ties perfectly into the meaning of the Great Maiden's Blush mentioned in the first letter (by No. 1 Fan) dated June 4, 2019. The meaning of this flower is pretty on the nose "If you love me, you will find out" in the Victorian language of flowers.

The question I'm asking myself now is: Was KMC actually gifted this specific type of flower arrangement/bouquet or was it just something he made up in his dream? Dreams may represent things someone went through in real life, but they usually either add or leave things/details. Plus, Choi Jinsu asks "if he had that dream again"- which indirectly sounds like something isnt adding up with what actually happened that day his mother got killed.

[unhinged-transmasc]

FLAG: MARINSEXUAL/-ROMANTIC/-AMORIC

The attraction to femininity, regardless of actual gender identity. One is primarily attracted to femininity, and may or may not be attracted to other gender presentations. Also known as aquorsexual/-romantic/-amoric. From Latin “mare/aequor,” meaning “ocean.”

Original post for marinsexual and similar terms. Free to use, create derivations of, so on and so forth!

Flag meanings (top to bottom):

Purple: mystery, diverse love and attractions

Pink: attraction to femininity; love and affection

Cyan: light, authenticity, truth

Blue: healing, community, solidarity

Deep blue: depth, identity, individuality

[marvellovegalore]

Breaking You

Chris Evans

Parte Deux - Hurting You

Synopsis: You begin to feel the true consequences of you hurting Chris and it's beginning to overwhelm you - and him.

Word Count: 2,483

Author's Note: I listened to quite a few songs to truly get into the vibe of this but The Cinematic Orchestra - To build a home (slowed) really got me into the energy I want to be delivered from this write-up. Happy Reading! Feel free to let me know how you feel!

Warning: Explicit Language, Mention of Mental Illness, Sexual Content

You’ve rarely had to consider yourself as someone who runs from her problems. You’d probably proudly tell anyone that asked that you quite confidently tackle your problems head-on.

However, you’ve created quite a serious problem for yourself. A broken heart.

What you have periled numerous men with, is now afflicting you. The odd thing is, is that you are exulting in it. It’s an oddly familiar sensation; it drowns your body in an intangible sickness that paralyses and asphyxiates you.

You sit at your piano, watching the silent and unmoving countryside. The fields of Portofino showered with golden sunlight, the brio reflecting into your room.

You haven’t pushed aside the sheer curtains since you arrived four days ago. You’ve taken your first shower this morning, the water sinking you into its comforting, warm embrace. You don’t really want to tell yourself aloud why you chose to come back to your grandparents’ old house, when stuff is going wrong. You’ve decided that playing the piano and smoking your days away is better than confronting yourself in the mirror - good thing all the furniture is covered with sheets. The sorry state of your face would make you plunder even deeper into your melancholy.

You will yourself to forget him and try to forget his existence.

But it’s virtually impossible, with him promoting a new film three towns over.

Good thing is you feel physically incapable of stepping outside of the confines of the house. The ladies that tend to the house scurry around the town buying food for the house and maintain its upkeep, they attempt to feed you three meals a day or four. You refuse most of the time, and they regard you with concerned gazes.

How could you begin to explain that with breaking a man’s heart, you subsequently had broken your own? His words blistered with bitterness bit you and dragged you down to the same pits of sadness that you plunged him into. You can probably say that you loved him, but you’ll probably truly never grasp why you can’t stay in something that requires such cemented commitment.

“Signora?” Your house governess interrupts your train of thought, you pull your cigarette away from your lips. “Sí?” She presents you with a letter addressed to you. The handwriting vaguely familiar to you. You thank her and dismiss her, the cigarette back in between your lips.

The letter doesn’t inform you of who it is from, but you hope, in the depths of your ribs that it’s from him, but you couldn’t possibly understand why he would ask to meet with you. He left you wordlessly two months ago and hasn’t been in contact since, not even through subliminal messages on social media. You can wager that you’re probably dead to him. It was made clear to you when you stood at the beach outside of your friend’s Malibu compound. He would rather die than get back with you; you don’t blame him.

You turn back to your piano, the keys feeling like lead beneath your shaky fingers. You play out a melancholic tune, your fingers feeling like they’re losing blood, you play clumsily, your eyes welling with tears.

You do have to admit, you feel extremely guilty for leaving him.

Life was beautiful with him.

He would have served you the sun on a platter if it meant making you smile - but you’re meant to destroy beautiful things.

It was what your father told you. You ruined his marriage to your mother; your sheer existence drove her to the brink of insanity. Since you were conceived you were a parasite that took the love your mother had for your father and you guzzled it out of her, taking all of her focus and affection. When you were born your parents refused the diagnosis of postpartum psychosis. Your mother believed you were an angel sent from heaven and doctors were trying to take you from her; so, she slowly succumbed to the madness and your father eventually was forced to send her away. The resentment he felt towards you all but scented the house, you were a poisonous leech, and you were treated as such.

You take the last drag of your cigarette and drag yourself to your walk-in closet, you decide on taking another shower - scrubbing away the odour of tar and smoke. You ready yourself for your strange and mysterious encounter. You dress yourself and half an hour later rush out to your car. The sun is low in the sky by the time you start driving away from the house, the countryside hugging you from all sides.

The drive is long into the town centre. The sky is blushed with pink and tinges of orange. You park your car and take a slow walk to the Splendido Mare; you enter the hotel’s restaurant and are led to a table. Your order a glass of wine and wait. After ten minutes you take out the letter, you read it from start to finish and confirm that the invitation was not a figment of your imagination; you were indeed summoned here by a mystery writer. Whom you hope is him.

You sit for half an hour at your table, you sip your anxiety away through two glasses of wine, you step outside and smoke two cigarettes and yet you’re still waiting. You flit through your phone notifications; you decide against your better judgement to type his name into the Goggle search bar. You fleetingly glance around the sparsely attended restaurant. You lock your phone without looking at the updates about him.

The thought of him makes your chest ache, harshly. The pain is tangible, you place your hands over your chest and wince. Something is not right.

You’re not aware of his slow approach, his hands wringing around each other, his cheeks red with nervous energy. He wishes he had had a shot of something - anything before getting here. He doesn’t recall what filled him the mad inspiration to send you a stamped letter to meet him at his hotel restaurant. He doesn’t know whether he wishes he had just called the brunette and spoken to her tonight; but he misses you. Madly.

He pulls out the chair in front of you. You can both tell that you’re holding in your breath.

Every time you see him it feels like the first time, all over again.

And he feels the same, but for either of you to admit it would be succumbing to defeat. You’re engaged in a silent and unspoken battle of wills.

“You sent me a letter?” You show him the letter. He nods, you sigh. “What is it you want to talk about?” You’re afraid to look into his eyes, they’re huge lakes filled with your dreams and deepest desires.

He hesitates, a ghostly sentence is formed on his tongue – he decides against materialising it. “I heard you were nearby; thought we could catch up.” He motions for the waiter. You narrow your eyes in - almost offence. What does he think, that you’re old pals?

He wants to catch up, but you want to do everything. Mostly profess your adoration for him and make love to him.

You despise the feeling; you’ve never felt like this for anyone. The alien feeling makes you heat up, your chest rises and falls quickly; agony filling your body as if you were a vessel to claim. “Right,” is all you can utter.

“What have you been up to?” He’s ordered two martinis, his eyes connecting to yours. You wince as the pain in your chest returns. How can he be so close yet so far?

“I was filming a fragrance campaign recently.” You speak quickly, an itch to smoke tickling your fingers. He nods, his eyebrows raised high.

“Nice.” He sighs and extends his clasped hands further onto the table. You look even more beautiful than in his thoughts, which he can’t expel you from. It seems your haunting presence is with him to stay, and his imagination can’t do any justice to your face and your intoxicating smell.

The conversation you have over your first drinks is dry, emotionless and full of hidden desires.

After each of you have three cocktails you let out the first laugh. He’s released himself a bit from the shackles of wanting to one-up you, his joke about his dog’s stubbornness reminding you of the good days of domesticity with Christopher and his dog. You move out to the terrace, candles flickering in the wind; you share more laughs. Memories being shared between you about life together.

There’s a clear shared emotion - longing. You crave the late summer nights sharing the dance floor with his friends or yours; him undressing you slowly in your pool; the nights watching the fire pit in your Santa Barbara home; the dinners enclosed in brick walled Italian restaurants with candles illuminating your elated faces.

“Come up with me.” His suggestion is quiet, his lips edging closer to yours. You nod, overcome with emotion. He grips on to your hand, the grip of a man thanking his lucky stars. He leads you to his room, on the top floor. A paradisiacal view of the sea and hills greeting you. The sun has set completely, and the moon casts a pale light over the buildings across the water.

Chris closes the door, and no sooner is he clutching at your lips with his. His hands smother you onto him and you meet him with the same desperation. Your hands slip under his shirt and moan into his mouth, your lipstick smearing over his lips. You feel him inhale your smell; he sighs desperately as he pulls you closer to him. You fall onto the chaise lounge in front of the open doors leading onto his balcony. The wind whispers sweet nothings onto your skins as you meld together, your bodies wanting desperately to be combined. He removes your clothes with familiar precision and your fingers touch him where you know he likes it.

The grooves of his skin are familiar, his dick entering you slowly as your fingers caress his tanned skin. He looks spectacular underneath you, his skin illuminated by the moonlight. You ride him slowly, you lips adventuring each other, like your bodies are each other’s long lost home territory. Your lips touch again, but it feels like the first time all over again. You feel yourself melting, your brain feels high, your limbs terribly relaxed. You guess this is what true love feels like. There’s nowhere else you’d want to be.

You love him. Only him.

He turns you over, on all fours, one hand gripping your throat and the other around your hair. He thrusts into you - with passion, his lips ghost over your shoulder. You feel your eyes close, the strength to fight the sedation unable to be found. It goes on for a while, and he flattens you onto your stomach. He lays on top of you, his hips gyrating against your skin, his arms encircling your torso. You feel safe, his head laying to rest in between you shoulder and jawline. He inhales your scent and kisses your shoulder, his lips printing their mark on your skin.

He turns you over and takes a deep breath, his eyes hold your entire world. They’ve trapped you into his universe and you have no desire to leave. He’s your whole world and you gave him away on a silver platter - but he’s here. He accommodates himself in between your legs and gives you a hug, his lips find yours in the darkness. The moonlight bathes you generously and he nestles himself inside you again. His lips refuse to leave yours; his thrusts grow in fervour; he wants to bury himself inside you and never leave.

He’s so deeply, and madly in love with you.

He can’t believe you hurt him. He hates you for it.

He pulls away from your kiss, his breathing heavy and slightly laboured.

His hides his face in the nook under your head. You feel like crumpling when you feel tears run over your shoulder, you hug him tighter. You want to stitch his wounds closed, tightly with your bare fingers and your lips. You want to mould your bodies together and live forever in this moment. His fingers reach for your clitoris and he makes love to you in two different ways. Your head lolls back and you feel ecstatic, currents washing over you slowly and you orgasm.

Chris kisses you desperately, swallowing your moans. He thrusts into you, complementing your orgasm. He releases himself into you, slowly moaning into your mouth.

After a few moments he stands up from the lounge chair and heads to the shower, as he walks through the door, he turns to you. He smiles in a way that you understand is an invitation to join him in the shower. You stand slowly, your legs feeling like jelly. You join him for a warm shower, peppered with tender kisses and saccharine touches.

Your bodies unconsciously refuse to part until you’re lying in his bed. He turns off the lamp and lays facing you.

A sweet look embalms his irises. His hand lifts itself to nestle under your cheekbone. He regards you softly.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice shaky.

You smile sleepily, “I love you too.”

You’re hypnotised to sleep by his soft breaths.

—

The sunlight reflected on the lake wakes you out of you slumber, the first dreamless one you’ve had in months. You turn to the side where Chris is and find nothing but empty air. You sit up quickly; the room is deadly silent. Nothing but your movements on the bed make noise. You scramble out of the bed and look for him.

There’s no trace of him in the room. You let out small wail of desperation. What if it was all a dream?

You pace the room, an uneasy feeling setting itself in your chest. You feel the space between your ribs tighten and your head feel faint. Your legs feel weak and unsteady, you crumple into a heap near the chaise lounge. Your breath feels constricted, massively so. The world begins to spin, and you fall onto your back.

It feels like a heart attack.

You can barely feel your heart.

You drag yourself to the counsel table, desperate to reach the phone. Your hand misses it massively, instead a hotel branded paper flickers down next to you. You pick it up, the tightness in your chest limiting your movement.

I guess this is goodbye, I can’t get over the fact that I’ll never be able to trust you. No matter how much I want to.

I hate you for ruining us

I’ll miss you, forever.

With all my love,

C

--

Parte Quatre -

Tags -

@chvntelle-99, @krispy-toes, @hampass, @calimoi, @saltyflowermakertaco

[norwegianbookofmormonfan]

How did you get Wicked?!

Because of the candlewick? and oh! A goat kid 🤦‍♂️ thanks!

Okay so this is what I've got this far with your help

Six (sicks)

Wicked (wick+kid)

Waitress (weights+dress)

Cabaret (cab+beret)

Annie (a knee)

Hello Dolly

Starlight Express

42nd street (fort+tea+second+street)

Mary Poppins (mare+popp+pins)

Into the Woods (into+wods)

Kinky Boots (king+key+boots)

Hamilton (ham+ill+ton)

Carousel (car+ow+sell)

Moulin rouge (mule+on+rouge)

Aladdin (A+ladd+in)

West Side Story

Hairspray (hares+pray)

?

Groundhog Day

Book of Mormon

?

So 18 and 21 still a mystery

(The pinks are the ones I hadn't figured out yet so you were a lot of help)

Hey musical theatre fans I need some help here!

I can't seem to figure them all out and hope we maybe could help each other out?