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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 10 months

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Request-ish for great 7 au if you dont mind, but what kinds of pictures do you think the g7 keep of yuu? Whether in like a photo book or their wallet or whatever? (Also if you dont mind maybe what their favorite photo of yuu is as well?) Love your writing have a good day!

A Picture of Yuu

Trying to ease myself back into writing and decided to try this out as a semi request! Gn yuu per usual, minot spoilers for ch 2— This is based of my Great 7 fic Unit:Yuu!

Notes: I do not know what kind of Arab Jafar is Aba/Baba for him, please let me know if this incorrect—

Queen of Hearts + Jabberwock

The Queen of Hearts has always been a zany one to say what photo she has of you that she adores on any given day would be difficult. In short, she loves them all!

It is such a shame that instant photography wasn't a thing back in her era, she would have taken so many photos of herself and Wonderland and she would have loved to show you all of them, it would certainly save the Jabberwock from having to explain so much.

The Queen watches you from afar as she drifts into her own thoughts. How she would have loved to take you into Wonderland with her and have your portraits done together.

Perhaps you could take your camera with you and you both can record all the memories you make together? How fitting would it have been to have photos of you in your wackiest poses and outfits up on the walls without having to get each one painstakingly painted?

She watches you rest the Jabberwocks head on her lap, and a smile graces her face at the sight of her little Rose with her greatest warrior. Should she still have her kingdom, she would have barked orders for the royal painter immediately.

Perhaps she doesn't have a favorite photo or picture of you because it hasn't made it yet, and as you take a photo of you and her with the Jabberwock all together (a photo you will undoubtedly hide from Crowley), she realizes she would never be able to find a favorite, as all she wants to now is to keep taking more.

Scar + The Hyenas

Scar has seen Rafiki's artwork before, and he was never impressed by the crude cave paintings he made, especially the ones that represented him.

If Rafiki were to have made one of you, however... he wouldn't know how to feel.

Even then, he much prefers these cameras and their strange instant paintings, after all he has never looked better in them! They really catch his good side!

Scar would huff in faux uninterest when he sees you pointing the camera around and taking photos of those three idiot hyenas around Ramshackle. And when you take photos of him he certainly doesn't strike a pose on purpose! (He snarls at Ed who even thinks about mentioning the idea.)

Still even as you show all of the photos you took, even of the ones of you, the hyenas, and him, it can never compare to the old "photo" of you and him together that he keeps hidden.

Cub is what he called you. To him, you were one. He was teaching you how to hunt with those Hyenas, how to sneak up on your prey and attack, and your victorious smile as you helped them take down a gazelle.

He remembered his muddy paws dragging across stony ground as Banzai carried the gazelle carcass with him, the group of hunters having to take it to the fire so you can eat.

Scar noticed how you suddenly stopped in your tracks and stared down at the ground. Annoyed, Scar huffed telling you to hurry up, and when you went on your knees and poked at the ground below you he snarled and circled back to you

That was when he noticed you were staring at his paw print in part of the ground. Your child self seemed to glow when you saw it, and you took your own muddy and bloodied hand and put it right over his print as if comparing sizes. When you took it away, he saw your small handprint right on his.

He may have actually have had a soft moment with you then and there if it wasn't for the hyena's prodding. Upon seeing the hand and paw print, Ed immediately remarked on how he wanted to do that too, and put his own next to yours, then Shenzi and Banzai, ever competitive, started arguing about doing the same, shoving each other out of the way to put their paw down as well.

In the end, all of your prints were together in a way that oddly resembled Rafiki's dribble. "Are you all satisfied now?" He huffed, snarling, "Now go! All of you!" He barked making the hyenas walk off and you follow. As you all walked off he tore up that part of the stone from the ground and carried it in his mouth, following the cackle closely behind with it.

He despised the way some child managed to worm his way into his heart and yet here is years later with you all grown up, and he still has the stone tablet hidden away for his eyes only. He refuses to let you see how soft he has gotten for you.

Shenzi definitely knows of it and tells you about his secret, prompting Scar to try and kill her.

Ursula + The Eels

Oh dear, now that's a question all right.

If it was up to her and she was able to have had you down in Atlantica, she would have hung so many paintings of you and her poopsies on her grotto walls, your chubby baby self was adorable, you know?

She often has fleeting thoughts of being the one to have brought you up under the sea. Just her a single mom and her three kids as her accomplice in villainy. How she would teach you how to brew the most powerful potions and run a good business...

Even now, she watches the curious glint in your eyes as you explore NRC and takes photos of everything, she's happy you have started to discover who you are.

You naturally take a lot of photos of her new makeup looks, along with your eel brothers wearing matching drag with you. She loves to pick up the Polaroids and commits them to memory, swiping her thumb over herself along with her children's faces lovingly.

It was during one of your weekly drag/makeup nights together. You had on some dramatic trashy show in the background as you all talked and did makeup. You kept one of your eyes closed ad Flotsam hangs on your neck like a scarf, using his tail to hold a brush and dab on eyeshadow while you work on Jetsam's eyebrows. Ursula smiled at the sight of her children bonding.

The peace didn't last long, as you made a particularly shady remark about that crow bastard causing Flotsam to cackle and squeeze you slightly, and Jetsam to slap you fave lightly with his tail.

As the Sibling Codex states, you all now must duel in a free for all and allow no survivors. There are no rules to uphold any honor.

Standing up, you pried Flotsam's body making him loosen the grip around your neck, and flung up the arm that Jetsam was anchored on.

Comically, the dangling eel slapped the camera sitting on the coffee table up from where it was and snap a photo.

"Jetsam! I swear if the camera is broken—" "Hey you're the one that flung me!"

Picking up the camera and looking it over you let out a breath of relief before checking out the film that came out

"Come here dear let me see..." Urusla spoke as you walked over.

Though slightly blurry, the photo featured all of you. You had a bright smile on your features as did your siblings who were smushed into you as fashionable accessories. In the background, Ursula sat elegantly admiring her children. And though she wasn't the center of the photo, she loved to see her children happy.

Were she were back in her grotto, this photo would have been displayed as one of her most prized possessions.

Jafar + Iago

It wasn't often he dreamt, but when he did, he dreamed big. He was Sultan of the Sands and the most powerful sorcerer of all with you as his heir by his side. Sure, Iago would be there too he supposes...

He would rule with an iron fist and bring about a Golden Age for his kingdom while tutoring you on the side, teaching you laws and ideals and the most powerful spells he knows. There would be all sorts of depictions of the two of you, mosaics, tapestries, poems, paintings, and perhaps even a few statues as well.

You would both be depicted as you should: powerful and intelligent... and Iagos there too he guesses...

So imagine his surprise when his favorite photo isn't a pretentious one at all.

When you first got your camera, he took pride in being photographed and always posed his very best, he wouldn't stand for any unsightly photos you may try to take. He would stand tall with Iago on his shoulder and staff in hand, evil and powerful. He would hate to be depicted as anything less.

As you set up the ghost camera on the stand, you start to take a few experimental photos as well as test out the timer function on it. Honesty it was thanks to Jafar it worked, his intuition and knowledge of technology were always remarkable.

"Any more trouble from that device, Yuu?" Jafar's voice snaps you out of focus as you turn to him standing in the common room, Iago perched where he usually was. "Nope not anymore, thank you Baba" you smile as you check out the camera again.

"Want to try and take a photo with me to test it out?" "If you mean one of those 'selfies' I will have to refuse!" "No, no, not like that I promise!"

Arching a brow and heaving a sigh Jafar relents. You get to work setting up the camera before running over to pose with them. You watched as the timer counted down... 4...3...2...

Suddenly, you throw yourself into Jafar in a deep hug as Iago squawks indignantly. The flash goes off. Sputtering for a moment as he takes a moment to adjust himself, he huffs. "What was the meaning of that Diamond?" Jafar snaps as he shoots you a glare. "Yeah that's the big deal?!" Iago cawed.

You smirked as you snagged the Polaroid out of the camera and aired it out with a few shakes before showing the pair.

The photo showed you pulling Jafar closer to you, holding onto and nuzzling into him dearly like a toddler would do their mother. He actually wore the slightest smile in the photo. Iago's wings were spread and for once he looked like the lively bird he was and not some villainous lackey.

"I have a lot of photos of Jafar and Iago, but none of my baba and my friend" You muttered holding the photo close to you. "But now I do, and don't worry it's for my eyes only... I would hate to ruin your image.

Jafar shuts his eyes for a moment, perhaps he was unintentionally and unknowingly strict. "No no, retake the photo, little one." He says as he holds your shoulder. "Let's take another photo as a family this time."

Jafar and Iago both sat on the rickety couch of Ramshackle as you set up the camera again before running back and sitting next to them. Iago hopped into your lap as you hugged the vizier. Jafar looked down at you both lovingly before wrapping his arms around you gently, allowing the camera to snap, and like that, his favorite photo of you was made.

Queen Grimhilde + The Raven

Ever since staying in Ramshackle, the Evil Queen would dream about being back home in her palace. She would walk down the halls of rooms and for a moment pretend the floors were stone and echoed with her steps and not creak under her weight. The walls were to be lined with intricate decor and tapestries along with art, and as she walks into your room to look at the mirror, she imagines it's her vanity where she would admire herself.

Raven stood on her shoulder preening her and she shut her eyes imagining the glory days when she ruled but this time she imagines herself with you at her side.

How you would sit on the stool in front of her vanity and look at yourself in the mirror as she clasps a necklace onto you after she finished dressing you up. How you would walk beside her amongst the guards and servants as she enters the throne room which used to have a lone throne but now has two.

How you would both sit regally as she deals with nobles and teach you how to rule with an iron fist and to be your worst possible self. How she would take you to her garden and poisons and teach you how to grow and use each one, later taking you into her study to practice your potionology.

You deserved much better than this place in her eyes, and once she gets her body back she will ensure you both rise to power once again. Even if you are currently living in a... less than ideal situation she will have you carry yourself with the same level of respect and pride she feels like you should have.

She shows you which plants can be used for hair and skin and makeup. She shows you how to embroider your clothes and sew. She shows you proper manners for everything as well— no child of hers will be taken for a slob. Your elegance hides your wild side and villainous upbringing well, only showing it to those who are worthy.

Her ghost sits across from you in the guest room, a glass of tea poured out for her in her honor though she can't drink from it. You finish up your latest piece as you push the needle through a few more times. Letting out a breath of relief, you tuck away the needle and hold out the new dress shirt you made in your preferred style. "Good work," she says approvingly as the Raven lets out a squawk, and you both continue to chat about your day.

The next day, you put on the shirt you worked so hard on, slipping on the right pants, shoes, and homemade accessories to match. Today, your mother decides to help you put on some light makeup, her ghost guiding your hands to apply foundation.

She then helps you put on your accessories and she is reminded of the fantasy she had the other day. "Thank you, Mama." You say smiling. "I guess this is my first official... complete outfit..." You didn't any decent clothes to start with since coming here, and even when you wore nicer things, you could never truly make it your own, you couldn't have your own style. Yet in the mirror you see all of your hard work put into sewing and saving, creating an outfit from your mother's love.

You look at yourself in the hand mirror you own as the Queen holds your face lovingly. "Shall we take a photo to commemorate the occasion?" You ask, smiling. "Ah yes, that ghost camera of yours can see me, can't it?"

You nod and begin to set the camera up. The Queen never cared for the photos it took, preferring the status symbol of oil paintings in her castle. As you stood next, she helped to pose you at the perfect angle, adjusting your posture and such as she stood beside you, hand on your head.

The photo came out, and it was as perfect as she would imagine it to be. Admiring it, she thinks back to getting her power again and her castle back, and for some reason, the first thing she imagines doing is to recreate this portrait with you, this time in paint, and the highest quality clothes you want.

Hades + Pain & Panic

His favorite photo of you? One where you look your best, one where you look powerful and strong and— oh wait his favorite photo of you?

When Hades found out the ghost camera can register him, he and his imps were over the moon. You best believe you had to make him look cool. (You gave in because Hades was never given the same respectable portraits compared to his family).

Every photo of him portraying him positively... touched my heart. He wasn't the unwanted brother or the laughing stock, outcasted and forgotten. He was Hades, God of the Underworld.

The imps also loved any photos of them taken positively, but they also didn't mind the funny ones too. Honestly, these two were absolute menaces with the camera, often stealing it and taking the worst photos of you.

Though you have some photos of yourself, or with your friends, none of them ever truly called out to Hades. He would simply see some as neat or use photos to lovingly bully you. Yet when he thought about it, all of his siblings seemed to always have some sort of art piece representing their children, he remembers Zeus and his insane amount of photos of his brat when he was born after all. He can't help but sort of desire one... but what?

For a good, while he can't help but look at all the photos you take and pay special attention to the ones that you were in— you best believe that if you have a photo with one of your friends he's gonna tease you for your "boyfriend".

As he goes through them he tries to find one that feels like it shows off his kid well, yet he can't. You look good in all of your photos, but you didn't feel like you. That's the one thing he's noticed since coming here. You couldn’t be your true self, you weren't allowed to bare your teeth and be truly free the way you should be.

Hades actually stews on this for a while silently, Pain and Panic bother him about it much to his chagrin. As the days went by Hades seemed to get more and more and more annoyed by your environment sucking the life out of you. Homework was annoying, Ramshackle sucked, and that damned crow bastard keeps dumping responsibility onto you! How is his kiddo supposed to shine like this?!

Recently, Crowley dumped another annoying task onto you— something stupid about looking into clumsy kids. You hated it but got Pain and Panic ready to help you as you went about interviewing victims and such. It was rotten work.

Maleficent + Diaval

Eventually, with your idiot squad, things picked up, and you came up with the idea of catching the perpetrator with your camera, as Crowley states he needs evidence. One thing led to another. Here we are in the Savanahclaw Dorm, facing the lion down face to face. Pain and Panic stood on either side of you as you stood your ground, stance widening to prepare for a fight.

And fight you did. Hades watched in absolute awe as you fought against the blot, rolling and sliding past attacks while seizing any opportunity to get a hit or to create an opening for your friends. Pain and Panic both helped, occasionally lashing at Leona to throw off his aim or providing your some healing and shielding with their shapeshifting abilities.

As the dust settled, and the sun rose higher in the sky, your silhouette stood amongst the rubble as you panted, fists still clenched. You had a powerful aura around you along with a steely gaze as you stared down at the lion beneath you. Panic suddenly pops up, ghost camera in hand as he snaps a photo. "How's that for proof?" he snickers alongside Pain as you finally relax.

The photo standing over your opponent had exactly what the other photos of you lacked. There was a fire in your eyes, a confident stance, and though dirt-covered and sweaty, you were unapologetically you in the moment. Not to mention badass.

Yet that wasn't the only reason Hades adored it. The image reminded of him Zeus' brat he despised. How that damned Hercules would be painted and shown off everywhere as a legend with his powerful stance, often standing over the slain monsters that Hades meticulously put together to defeat him.

And yet... here you were: A mirror image of him, a perfect foil. And unlike Hercules, you were still here and so was he. That brat failed to kill him. Through his child, he has won... Ha! Take that, Zeus! Just wait for round 2! This time, he won't fail.

Maleficent is also one who doesn't understand newer technology. She simply can't wrap her head around a device that makes portraits instantly without magic. After a bit of explanation from Diaval (who still doesn't know much), she simply accepts it.

Like Grimhilde, the Fae much prefers painted portraits, and often finds herself imagining how you would look in one every time she sees one of your "selfies".

The Fae Queen finds it endearing that you want to take photos of her and your dear uncle Diaval, trying your best to make some good memories in this miserable place. Even on your nightly walks together, you bring your camera with you to photograph the wildlife around you.

Seeing your features light up just by seeing the smallest bug makes her feel a strange sense of pride as if this proves you belong to her and the forest of the fae. She's glad to know that enjoys nature just as much as her.

Passing by a small pond, the three of you pause for a moment. Diaval, in his crow form, is happily perched onto your shoulder, nuzzling and preening you as you give him a few scratches and look up to the night sky above you. As your eyes reflect the stars, Maleficent is reminded of a fond memory.

You were a child at the time, to be honest, she couldn't tell you how old you were, at her age, all children start looking the same.

The fae was coming to terms with being a ghost— a ghost stuck inside a child no less— and she certainly did not appreciate it. How could such a pudgy and idiotic vessel possibly be worthy of the Mistress of All Evil?

She would sneer at the idea of growing attached to you. Even as your child self waved and smiles at her, she snarled in response, baring her fangs at you. To her surprise, you merely giggled. She wasn't amused.

No matter how many times she snapped and told you to go away, or order Diaval to distract you, you would always come back to her eventually. She just didn't get it, why do you like her so much?! Under the guise of not wasting her breath or energy, she stopped trying to distance herself from you, allowing your small baby hands to play with her cloak or touch her horns. You were a curious little beastie, weren't you?

She remembers watching you grow up little by little, watching your kid self play with Diaval as a crow and give each other affection, how she cast protection spells on you as you ran through the forest barefoot, cursing any sharp stones you may step on.

She remembers guiding you as you picked berries and copied the animals you saw. She remembers singing you lullabies and telling you stories of her home, hoping she could take you to it. Her warnings about trusting men.

She remembers how unequivocally she fell for the child that melted her heart, and how she assigned Diaval to you, making him promise to always watch out for you and to serve you as he did her.

And she especially remembers how you approached her with a scribbled-on, crumpled sheet of paper. You babbled as you held up the piece to her. Kneeling down with her usual stern expression, she examined the scribbles closer.

Crude lines depicted an all-black horned figure holding a staff in one hand, hand awkwardly stretched out to touch hands with the tiny figure in the middle. An attempt at a blackbird was drawn in the other outstretched hand of the child, its best open in a caw. All of the figures had clumsy smiles. Arrows pointed to all of the figures labeled 'Me' 'Malycent' and 'Diovl'

Diaval perched on Maleficent's shoulder, getting the best look he could before swooping in and nuzzling your kid self. As you laughed and giggled Maleficent allowed a small smile to grace her features as she watches you play.

To this day, she still has the piece of paper in her cloak, enchanted with the strongest protection spell she could do in her current state. In her mind, no other portrait than the one you drew could ever compare.

Perhaps one day when she rules from her thorny castle, she will have this art piece framed in her study, for her eyes only.

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chroniclingworlds · 3 months

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Papyracetae

The “paper whales” represent an even more extreme modification of the Auranauts’ already extreme body plan. They have evolved a separate circulatory system specifically to pump hydrogen-and-helium-rich blood to their second lung, allowing them to much more effectively regulate their buoyancy and fly much higher into the atmosphere. Given their size, they are ultra-lightweight and quite delicate, with highly pneumatized bodies that are almost more air than tissue. These huge animals have long inspired mythology and are considered by many cultures to be divine beings.

Stargliders

Pictured: the common Starglider, the only species to be represented with multiple preserved specimens.

These are the smallest and the highest-flying of the Papyracetae, drifting on air currents far above the clouds. Many species of air plankton use these currents as a highway to migrate, and the Stargliders intercept them as they travel. Because of their preferred habitat, they are difficult to study, and even dead ones are hard to find as they are frequently shredded by wind and other flying animals on the descent. Due to this, it is likely that there are many undiscovered species inhabiting the skies of Strix. Currently, only the common Starglider has been studied to any decent extent, and all other described species have only been based on single dead specimens or brief sightings of live ones. Their true range is unknown, but they are assumed to live worldwide.

Sky Shepherds

Pictured: the cloudcrester, a species seen over both the Moon Sea and Great Southern Sea during their respective wet seasons.

While all other Papyracetae are solitary, sky shepherds live in small groups and work together to herd air plankton into tight balls that they can then consume. Migrating between the north and south annually, these giants keep pace with the seasonal rain and the air plankton that follow it. These shepherds are the loudest creatures on the planet, producing infrasonic trumpeting noises that can travel hundreds of miles for communication between groups. The Terebroids are particularly tuned into this frequency, and use these calls to track down their prey from miles away.

Monarchs

Pictured: the sky queen, the largest of them all, is sighted most frequently above the semi-arid plains of the midlands.

These are the largest animals on Strix by wingspan. With only three known species, they are not especially common, but they are an incredible sight when encountered. With wingspans up to 200 feet across, these massive creatures patrol the skies, scooping up air plankton into their gaping mouths. Like all Papyracetae, they are seasonal migrants, but seem to prefer the mid-latitudes more than their relatives. They are rarely sighted at the poles or over large bodies of water, and they avoid high winds and turbulence lest their paper-thin bodies be damaged. Mysterious and graceful, they are truly a wonder of evolution.

#speculative biology #planet strix

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jeonstellate · 4 months

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sunsets & silhouette dreams — range ø

johan is like her father more than she personally realizes.

⚝༄ platonic!tony stark x original character

⚝༄ mentions of kidnapping, murder, manipulation, torture, human experimentation, memory wipe, & brainwashing

⚝༄ paragraph format — 0.6K words

masterlist | s&sd masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

⚝༄ just discovered that tags are faulty again for me for the past — possibly several — weeks now, including this week?? && i just noticed?? oml. y’all . . . i’ve been posting a lot T_T

Johan Anastasia Collins, as her pseudo-file in the S.H.I.E.L.D. database addressed her as, was admittedly dramatic.

Which, given that she didn’t even know how to properly express her feelings until three years ago, was quite ironic.

She was born to Dawn Antoinette Collins in a cold autumn morning. She was raised in a luxurious high-rise apartment in Queens, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. As many children, she had obsessions: cars and Iron Man.

Her early childhood was like any other children born into a single-parent family who could afford one of the highest floors in the building. Her mother didn’t spoil her nor made poor attempts to fill in the void where her father should’ve been. Instead, to keep her occupied, she was enrolled in pre-kindergarten a year early and signed up for piano lessons.

Her later childhood was like any other HYDRA captive that was sculpted to be an asset. She was kidnapped as she was processing the murder of her mother. She was manipulated to think her earlier trainings were for her wellbeing, so she could finally see her father. She was tortured and experimented on to increase her value as an asset, with HYDRA going as far as replacing her hands with metal. She was wiped off of memories that made her vulnerable and human. She was brainwashed to carry out missions for the hollowed eyes playing god.

Her latest childhood had strayed far from the normalcy she had in her earlier years. Mostly because she now had the heavy weight of trauma on her shoulders. She had to relearn everything that made her human — and a child.

Reclaiming her birth name was easy. She was never attached to the names HYDRA bestowed her, so it was easy to let them go.

Adjusting to her new life was a little more challenging. HYDRA had deprived her of a lot of things throughout the years, so she had a lot to get used to.

Even now, four years after S.H.I.E.L.D. found her in an abandoned HYDRA base, she was still having trouble expressing her emotions.

Yet, as it seemed, she knew enough about effectively expressing her emotions to be dramatic.

"And do I have any say in this?" Agent Johan Collins’ arms were tightly crossed on her chest. In an instant, her doe eyes mimicked those of a fox. Calculating and hyperaware.

Director Nick Fury wasn’t fazed by the sudden change in the teenager’s demeanor. "No."

"Typical." A strong and suffocating wave of anger suddenly radiated off of her when she glared. "I never had a choice."

"Agent Stark—" Her new name felt foreign, as though it wasn’t hers to begin with. It rested uneasily on her head, like a crown that wasn’t meant for her in the first place.

Johan wiped her glare away with a short shake of her head. Once she regarded her superior again, her doe eyes were voids. The aura she radiated dropped a few degrees, but it still felt dangerous and sharp. "Is that all you need to talk to me about?"

Fury could only sigh. No one had seen her angry yet — and frankly, he didn’t want to witness it alone. "You may leave."

Johan Anastasia Stark, as her birth certificate identified her as, was a semi-stable, highly-skilled assassin who just reached her teenage years.

If that wasn’t bad enough, she also happened to be the daughter of one of the most dramatic and stubborn person Director Fury had to deal with.

Johan didn’t slam the door on her way out, like he presumably expected her to. Instead, she let the devil in.

"Stark, what are you doing here?"

next range >

#tony stark imagines #tony stark scenarios #tony stark oneshots #tony stark fanfics #tony stark fics #tony stark #iron man #marvel #mcu #avengers #iron man imagines #marvel imagines #mcu imagines #platonic!tony stark x reader #platonic!avengers x reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader

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avelera · 1 year

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House of the Dragon wasn't morally gray, its characters just weren't allowed to WANT anything and then pursue it

It's amazing to me how much having a character who visibly wants something clarifies a story.

Throughout 90% of "House of the Dragon" I was all but screaming at the screen, begging someone, anyone to clearly and indisputably say they want something and to be shown fighting for it with single-minded intent and it was shown so very rarely, it was astonishing. Rhaenyra supposedly wants to be Queen but is almost never shown taking material steps to becoming worthy of the role or fighting for it.

She's not the only one, by the way, to have stated goals they don't pursue, or motivations that seem deliberately muddied to make the character seem "better" or "worse" on some moral spectrum as needed, or to take idiot-ball level actions that run counter to their goals supposedly while in pursuit of them, and I just want to explore a few of those (with spoilers, obviously).

Rhaenyra is bored in council meetings, she has not one but three children with a man who, in the context of the story if not the original book, is very obviously not her husband based on their appearances, she takes herself away from the capital when her father could die any day from his illness, when any power-driven person worth their salt would be absolutely glued to his side until the crown passed to them, especially given that Rhaenyra had reasonable suspicions that others in power would try to take the throne before it could pass to her. She basically retires and takes herself away to live in semi-retirement raising her children in a remote location at the exact point she would be better served by building up her power base. It was infuriating to watch.

And it happens again and again in the show! Is Otto Hightower motivated by wanting his own descendants on the throne or does he truly think he's acting in the best interest of the realm? It's never entirely clear!

Does Alicent just want to keep her own children alive and is thus driven to civil war in order to do so, or does she want power for herself? It's not really clear! Because when Rhaenyra offers her clear opportunities to ensure that she and her children will be safe and legally intertwined with the ruling family, she doesn't take them. But she also appears horrified at the idea she'd ever start a civil war for reasons of personal ambition?

Does Aemond want to kill Jace? He'd be pretty justified in wanting to do so after losing an eye to him! Yet at the last minute he "loses control of his dragon" which just seemed like an absurd play to try to make him somehow not entirely to blame for the death. But why do this? No one else is up there anyway to witness the act, why not simply let Aemond want, overpoweringly, to kill this Jace. He can have regrets after and realize the true horror of what he's done, but why muddy the moment itself by making it mixed whether or not he's to blame?

Aside, I actually liked Aemond a great deal because he was one of the few characters who seemed to want to be king and take material steps to becoming a king in the Targaryen historical fashion! He's obsessed with the history of the Targaryens, he models himself after that legacy, and he pursues becoming a dragon rider to the point of putting himself in danger. It's so refreshing! I want to follow the story of his single-minded pursuit of the throne. I'm so sick and tired of all the people who say they want it and then just expect it to fall into their lap!

Larys Strong having some bizarre interest in Alicent's feet wasn't just a weird gross scene, as if a foot fetish is supposed to be some sort of shocking, horrifying deviance in the same episode where we saw children forced to fight to the death in a cage match. It also is stupid because it muddies his motivation. Is he attracted to Alicent or does he want power? We don't know! It's kind of both? But he never really says what he wants, he just lurks around, and then we get the weird foot scene to make it even more unclear why he's doing any of this. It was stupid and unnecessary and didn't actually illuminate anything useful about the character.

This isn't even getting into all the boldly stupid things that each of the "power players" of this story do, like making enemies, stating their motivation aloud to fuck others over before they've confirmed their own victory, stating treason aloud to crowded rooms, or killing other members of the nobility openly and apparently without consequences. At least, not without consequences that aren't immediately undone by another pointless time skip that undoes all the previously built-up drama.

By the end of the season I was absolutely longing for the original GoT's Littlefinger to show up and tell everyone how it's done. At least in the early seasons of the original GoT we knew what everyone wanted, many people wanted evil things and what made it gray was not that people had mixed motivations, but that every character had a clearly stated motivation, good or bad, and the "good" guys were just as likely to lose as the "bad" guys, because motivation didn't matter, you played the game to win or you died.

#house of the dragon #hotd critical #game of thrones #got #hotd meta

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castingmysilver · 1 year

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"Jadis, George MacDonald's Lilith, Mr. Beaver's ancestry theory, and the corruption of the dynasty in Charn."

We have in The Chronicles of Narnia what seem to be two very different origin stories for Jadis, the White Witch and enchantress-tyrant of Narnia. The Beavers tell the curious Pevensie children, who ask whether she is Human: "She'd like us to believe it. And it's on that that she bases her claim to be Queen. She comes of your father Adam's first wife, her they called Lilith. And she was one of the Jinn. That's what she comes from on one side. And on the other side she comes of the giants."

In the prequel-story The Magician's Nephew, originally not published until near the end of the series, we learn that she was the destructively victorious final ruler of the ancient world of Charn, brought into Narnia by tragic accident by the boy who grew up to become Professor Kirke. I have heard it proposed before that in the Doylist, Lewis hadn't fully decided what he was doing with her yet when he wrote Beaver's lines; and perhaps in the Watsonian sense Beaver was passing along a dark rumor popular among the Narnian resistance, with no real understanding of the truth behind the Witch. But I personally like to believe that the two origins are not actually completely incompatible.

It is at this point that my Doylist and Watsonian reasoning start to blur. Mr. Beaver, and the hypothetical resistance against the Witch in Narnia, had no good reason to know the Witch’s origin. The bit about the Giantish blood, at the very least, seems unlikely given the context of The Magician’s Nephew; I like to think it was an assumption based on Jadis having come down from the North where the Giants lived, within living memory for several of the more long-lived Narnian creatures such as the Trees. At the same time though, Mr. Beaver had no good reason to know about Lilith at all, unless she had some form of real existence within the Narnian universe. The only known Humans in Narnia up until that point in history had been, as far as we know: two young English children with little literary background other than adventure-stories and whatever they had taught to them in Victorian schools; one grown-up and very odd uncle with reason to have some understanding of the weird and unnatural, but who spent most of his time in Narnia frantically trying to avoid an existential crisis and avoiding talking to the Beasts there; two very decent and very working-class grown-up Humans who were probably Anglican Christian if anything religious before encountering Aslan, and who I’m not sure seem the sort for collecting semi-obscure myths and legends about extrabiblical figures; and arguably, depending on the timing of the Telmarines’ arrival, somewhere in the world of Narnia a band of rowdy pirate-relations and kidnapped islander women. No Human tradition Narnia had access to told Mr. Beaver about Lilith. But why mention her name in association with The White Witch?

#narnia #the white witch #george macdonald lilith #theories and headcanons

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chacusha · 5 months

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The Once and Future King (1958) by T. H. White

Okay at last -- after maybe 4 or 5 years of reading this, I finally finished?! I suppose it's not that odd that this book took me so long to read given that it's kind of 4 novels in one, and this book was my bathroom reading book (meaning it had to be read in little pieces at a time). Only through dedication and perseverence did I manage to get through this one. And then I took like two months writing up this summary/review... /o\

The Once and Future King is a retelling of Arthurian legend. Somehow this book ended up in my possession (my guess is that it was bought at a book/garage sale or given to my family by someone or something like that, and then I've just been carrying it with me from house to house ever since). I think my interest in this book was probably sparked by a combination of watching Disney's The Sword in the Stone, which was based on the first book of Once and Future King with the same name, and also generally hearing people reference Merlin's whole "experiencing time backwards" mechanic (probably this book contains the most prominent instance of that mechanic in fiction, and some while back, I encountered some characters in fiction who experience time differently, who were probably inspired by this Merlin), and then also I had seen either all or part of the musical Camelot, which is also apparently partly based on this book, so all of those things made me think I should probably read this book...

Also, my background for Arthurian legends is very weak. While I've osmosed some very basic things about it from general culture, I've barely read anything considered semi-canonical and don't really know any of the major stories.

The first book is apparently the most famous one, "The Sword in the Stone," which features a young Arthur ("Wart") being tutored by Merlin who turns him into various animals, and ends with Arthur pulling the sword out of the stone and being declared king of Britain. The second and third books were apparently written while T. H. White was living in Ireland as a conscientious objector for World War II, something that is kind of relevant to maybe both the general ethos of The Once and Future King and maybe also relevant to the subject matter of the second book, "The Queen of Air and Darkness," which takes place in the remote Orkney isles of Scotland and has various Celtic culture things going on. The third book, "The Ill-made Knight" focuses on Lancelot and is kind of a character study of him, although features various quests, stories, duels, etc. including the quest for the Holy Grail. Finally, the last book is "The Candle in the Wind" and covers Mordred and the fall of Arthur's Camelot.

It was funny reading "The Sword in the Stone" and just kind of seeing why it appealed to Disney's animators. There's a whole episode in "The Sword in the Stone" that isn't in the movie at all, but it features these two middle-aged knights, Sir Grummore and King Pellinore, having the most slapstick/physical comedy fight imaginable. Even though this scene (in fact, neither of these characters) appears in the movie, you can absolutely imagine this fight playing out with characters probably similar in look and personality to King Stefan and King Hubert from Sleeping Beauty, or the king and grand duke from Cinderella. I'm so surprised it wasn't included.

By contrast, the squirrel episode was an invention of the movie, but there is an episode in the book somewhat similar in vibe, where Arthur is turned into a migrating goose and goes on a dreamlike very long migration with a flock, which includes a young female goose who is obviously kind of interested in him, in a way that goes over his head.

Despite being medieval, a lot of the episodes in "The Sword in the Stone" seem to reference some contemporary or near-contemporary British archetypes. For examples, the falcons and other birds of prey that Wart hangs out with one night I think are meant to represent the British military officer class, and they have a distinctive way of speaking. The omniscient narrator also puts in a lot of anachronistic commentary, such as saying "Several hundred years later, this place would like X, but in this time, it still looked like Y."

There's an episode where Wart gets turned into an ant and basically it's T. H. White's cynical criticism of pre-war and wartime propaganda (in this case, by the British government based on the language/tone used, but probably applies to all countries) and how certain governments and a constant background drone (ant signals standing in here for radio) preclude the capacity for free thought or disobedience. In particular, there's this bit about a lecture that gets broadcast to all ants:

A. We are more numerous than they are, therefore we have a right to their mash. B. They are more numerous than we are, therefore they are wickedly trying to steal our mash. C. We are a mighty race and have the natural right to subjugate their puny one. D. They are a mighty race and are unnaturally trying to subjugate our inoffensive one. E. We must attack them in self-defense. F. They are attacking us by defending themselves. G. If we do not attack them today, they will attack us tomorrow. H. In any case we are not attacking them at all. We are offering them incalculable benefits (p. 129).

Reading this, I immediately got a mental image of that "Our blessed homeland / Their barbarous wastes" meme:

Anyway, being a pacifist in the UK during WWII was probably not the right choice, but as someone who has lived through multiple bullshit imperialist wars that were justified just like this, with propagandistic journalists painting anyone who didn't full-tilt support said wars as being unpatriotic and motivated by hatred of the U.S., and whose arguments featured this level of hypocrisy... I feel for T. H. White. IDK, being a pacifist in any time is hard.

"The Sword in the Stone" also features an episode where Wart and Kay adventure with Robin Hood and his merry men, who in this book are depicted as remnants of an older Saxon regime rebelling against Norman invaders. In addition to knowing almost zero about Arthurian legend, I also know almost zero about Robin Hood mythos and British history, so I have no idea how normal or just a niche theory this depiction of Robin Hood is, or how normal it is to mix Robin Hood and Arthurian legends.

The second book, "The Queen of Air and Darkness," is the shortest and also the weakest, probably. It introduces some characters who eventually become key players, but here they are bored children, and is kind of a study of Morgause as a witch and terrible mom, with some further Pellinore-related slapstick. Not a particularly interesting book.

The third book focuses on Lancelot and his characterization here is interesting. It may sound odd, but Lancelot's characterization reminded me quite a bit of my partner: perfectionistic, depressed in a "convinced I am ugly, horrible, deeply flawed, etc." sort of way, and deeply religious in a vague way while also somewhat lapsed/detached from religion. I was a bit surprised at how Lancelot as a boy is very much depicted as having a strong crush on an older Arthur here (not explicitly so, but the feelings are depicted as very intense), even though Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot is a very classic OT3 so that's not exactly surprising. In general, I quite liked the way the relationship between Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot was portrayed, especially the way all three characters age and grey over time, and their relationship kind of matures with them. The book never quite goes full OT3 with the three, though, because Arthur and Guinevere, while they love each other, seem to largely lack the passion aspect of love in their relationship.

Between the second book with Arthur and this third book featuring Lancelot, this book contains a lot of knights being tricked or spelled into sleeping with a woman out of wedlock and there being a child born out of that union who is Important later on. I checked and all of these stories of female-on-male rape are pre-existing stories, so it's not a T. H. White invention but just there in the lore. I find it a bit weird how recurring an element it is. I wonder if it's because people wanted to insert into these myths an original child character who is special -- therefore has to be related to one of the major knights -- but they have to preserve the knight's own chastity/moral purity, so the only way to insert a child is to have the knight be faultless this way.

Quite a bit of Once and Future King reminded me of the writing in A Song of Ice and Fire; I'm guessing this book was a major source of inspiration for GRRM. First, there's the book's tendency to go into Random Very Detailed Digression About an Aspect of Medieval Living. The random digressions are more varied in O&FK (featuring topics like very specific lessons on hawking, armor, battlements, and so on), but the digressions on the heraldry spotted at a particular tournament or all the dishes served at this particular holiday feast will feel very familiar... Second, this book features several "trials by combat" -- I don't think they're called that exactly in this book but they have the same form which is that if someone makes an accusation against someone else where evidence is unable to decide the issue, each party can choose a champion, and the verity of the accusation is determined by the outcome of the battle. This is a very bizarre legal practice, but it's featured in both O&FK and ASOIAF.

Another part of the Random Very Detailed Digressions of O&FK is that there are a LOT of types of birds mentioned at various points in this book, especially marine birds. Sometimes I felt like I was just always looking up unfamiliar bird names and being kind of surprised that the English language has this many bird types named in it. It was to the point that I wondered if the author was a birdwatcher (especially a marine-bird-watcher) as a hobby.

Thieves -- it is true -- could be hanged for stealing goods to the value of one shilling -- for the codification of Justice was still weak and muddled -- but that was not so bad as it sounds, when you remember that for a shilling you could buy two geese, or four gallons of wine, or forty-eight loaves of bread -- a troublesome load for a thief in any case (p. 510).

This is from another long digression in the book talking about how Arthur's regime dramatically changed the ability of people to safely travel. But reading this, I immediately got a strong "Lex Luthor stole forty cakes" mental image. XD

Reading this book was quite difficult because almost every page, I needed to look up some word or term or translate some text. There's a lot of archaic words used, Latin or French terminology, medieval concepts, medieval texts, Biblical stories, etc. that I needed to look up in order to understand what was going on. I only really noticed how densely these unknown words were encountered when I started reading my next bathroom book and got like 30 or 40 pages without needing to look up anything and was just like "???" after the experience of reading O&FK. 8|

The depiction of Mordred here is a particular resentful, hot-headed youth who attaches themself to any populist or nationalist movement that provides some kind of voice for unhappiness, whether egalitarian (or at least using that language of elite/non-elite, haves/have nots, etc.) or right-wing ethnonationalist. He is in other words a proto-fascist. He is also depicted as representing a certain kind of modernity, where his group of friends at court are all about wearing ridiculous fashion but with a tinge of irony to them. This notion of fascists who always distance themselves from their words and actions with a layer of sardonic irony was apparently as familiar to T. H. White as it is to me (see: 4chan and alt-right outlets/provocateurs).

The last book features Arthur wondering at length where does war come from, which reads like maybe T. H. White's own musings and attempts to puzzle that out. Arthur/White wonders first whether it's warmongering leaders who manipulate their populations into war, or warmongering populations who propel warmongering leaders to power; nationalist ideologies as a somewhat self-propelling mechanism (a complicated "impulse") that seems to be driving war; histories/past wrongs that rationalize vengeance and an inability to forgive and forget leading to neverending cycles of retributive wars, each last one becoming the justification for the next; whether private property/possession/wealth or social disparity lead to coveting what other people have and people who use that class resentment as an opportunity to power grab or make money and improve their standing; whether war is born out of fear of the inability to control other people from harming you. Again, all thoughts that are unfortunately way too real right now and evergreen, speaking as a citizen of the world's preeminent empire, waging war on a dozen fronts or more, and given current events...

It's hard to summarize this book. It's Arthurian legend, but only focusing I think on certain characters and certain parts of the story (maybe; I don't know). It's a historical book, containing a lot of general information about what life and the culture of the late middle ages were. It's a political book featuring T. H. White writing about his feelings on legal systems and war. Each of the four books here has a very different vibe with some focusing on adventures, comedy/slapstick, complicated/doomed love relationships, family or character studies, villains, politics and legal systems, or what it means to be a good person and a virtuous Christian. Overall, the book was quite difficult and slow-going reading for me, but I enjoyed it and I'm glad to have read it.

#once and future king #t h white #book review #arthurian legend

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gn1450 · 2 years

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Aurelia Lucis Caelum (OC)

Hair and necklace details

My FFXV OC in my Aureliaverse AU concept

Aurelia Lucis Caelum, older sister to Noctis.

Her duty is to oversee the economy, assisted by the council and Clarus Amicitia. She is secretly enlisted as a glaive for a while by Clarus to let her learn dicipline and to find her own retinue, and she is currently second-man in charge, assisting Clarus in a secret government project to provide technology, necessary and essential needs for the Lucians to survive if something goes wrong with the impending prophecy ahead.

Her clothing was made to counter Lunafreya's restrictive dress, colorwise, design wise and flexibility wise.

Aurelia was created with efficiency in mind. She was made into a placeholder to take care of her nation, despite not being the crown princess, thus her dresses would be tailored to her active life, with jacket for formality and protective element, and A-line skirt dress for mobility as she must be able to access her armiger, even using a dress.

Her long,flowing split-sleeve was made with Regis' ornate decor in mind, as she's emulating her father, as well as giving her a sense of flair whenever she moves, yet more modest version in an ailing country to show empathy, less detailed, less lavish.

To counter Lunafreya's more fantasy-like appearance (i.e. in the movie) that depicts her status as a priestess, Aurelia's hair is tightly braided and her dress is made modern, clean cut, simple with the Late Queen's Emerald necklace as the only status symbol as a modern royalty. Gloves are mandatory as to protect her hands, and Mary-Jane Strap low-heels are easier to run with and provide comfortable options to walk lengthy distance.

Her underdress gives her enough modesty while still enabling her to fight.

Her retinue so far consists of one Hand, one Glaive (later she's given two for protection), and one secretary that's also her Body Double. Her staffs and retinue is considerably smaller than of Noctis' as she is not the crown princess.

I kinda based her public persona as a mix of kate middleton, padme amidala and Regis's calm demeanor. Pleasantly demure in social situations to disarm her opponent, detached and distant with a smile, yet able to deliver jabs of words without seeming emotional nor personal.

But her private personality is a bit different, as she is deadly stubborn, witty, vindictive, and loyal, and of course she is able to throw a massive royal tantrum during her teen years due to Regis' attention mostly on Noctis.

Clarus who's also her godfather and semi-father figure was one of the few people that she would even listen to besides Regis as she still desperately needs for her father's praise and approval. Cor definitely hates her guts during those days.

But she mellowed after Nyx and Crowe shown her the poverty-ridden side of Insomnia, and she began to work hard for her people even if she's not going to be a queen. She is still able to throw a royal tantrum, however, but it's tamer than Noctis's, and far manageable by her retinue as she grew mature.

#fanart #character design #FFXV OC #FFXV #aurelia lucis caelum #final fantasy xv #Final Fantasy XV OC #Aurelia Lucis Caelum OC #GN1450 #GN_DRAWS #digital drawing #digital art

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gaylorlyrics · 3 years

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I got a DM asking for a list of all the Karlie songs, so I made a playlist! tbh I think that almost every song Taylor has written in the past 7 years has to do with karlie in some way, but these are the ones that are most obvious imo.

I didn’t include some of the ones that I think are about breaking up because I didn’t want it to be a sad playlist. I also ordered everything chronologically and based on track number.

1. Welcome to New York - “you can want who you want”, “boys and boys and girls and girls”, Karlie quote: “[Taylor] almost moved to London and I said, 'Nope, not happening.' She now lives in New York.”

2. Shake It Off - this one is slightly a stretch but there is a very compelling argument that karlie is the “fella over there with the hella good hair” and the ballet dancing in the mv seems significant given that karlie was a ballerina.

3. You Are In Love - “you’re my best friend”, “on the way home” aka the caption to this pic of Taylor and karlie, “dancing in a snow globe” aka VSFS 2013 when kaylor literally danced in a snow globe

4. New Romantics - a semi-platonic karlie song as it’s more generally about the squad, but a karlie song nonetheless, “The rumors are terrible and cruel/But honey, most of them are true”, “The best people in life are free”

5. End Game - “you and me we got big reputations” (def not Joe lol), “you and me would be a big conversation”, “your body is gold” aka a color theme that Taylor uses for karlie

6. Don’t Blame Me - “I once was poison ivy, but now I'm your daisy” aka karlie tagging tay as a daisy in a post, “guys, just to play things for me to use”, general themes of secret love that would ruin you

7. Delicate - “west side”, secret love themes again, being two gay A list celebs who have built their careers off of male desire makes their situation delicate

8. Gorgeous - “you’re so gorgeous”, “look at your face”, literally just the whole song

9. King of My Heart - “school girl crush”, “like trying on clothes” cuz karlies a model, “Motown beat” aka tay’s karlie Motown post, “all the boys...never took me quite where you do”, “your love’s a secret”

10. Dancing with our Hands Tied - all about kiss gate, see full analysis here

11. Dress - “I dont want you like a best friend”, see full analysis here

12. Call It What You Want - aka Karlie what you want, again! secret love! we get it tay you have a secret love you cant tell anyone about! its sure as hell isn't Joe, “fit like a daydream”, “high above the whole scene”

13. New Years Day - polaroids, having quiet normal moments together, “her midnights”, etc.

14. Cruel Summer - “snuck in through the garden gate!!!”, “I love you aint that the worst thing you ever heard”, “shape of your body”, “boy...with a price...I bought it”, “I dont wanna keep secrets just to keep you”!!!!!!!!

15. Lover - “ive loved you 3 summers”, “ur my lover” what a gender neutral term..., “Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close?” aka secret love themes again, “everyone who sees you wants you”

16. Cornelia Street - “this city screams your name”, “Jacket 'round my shoulders is yours” aka so many pics of Taylor wearing karlies jackets

17. False God - “were we crazy to think that this would work”, “you’re the west village”, “ like I’m not your favorite town I'm New York City”

18. illicit affairs - “tell your friends you’re out for a run”, “illicit affairs, clandestine meetings, and longing stares”, sECreT loVE

19. gold rush - “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful”, “everybody wants you”, see full analysis here

20. Dorothea - “shes a queen selling dreams, selling make up and magazines”, “if you're ever tired of bеing known for who you know You know that you'll always know me” aka if you get tired of being associated with kushnerds, see full analysis here

21. ivy - “tarnished but so grand”, “Your opal eyes are all I wish to see”, SECRET LOVE, see full analysis here

22. cowboy like me - “Dancin' is a dangerous game”, “But that was all before I locked it down”, see full analysis here

#its not all of them but its a lot of them #kaylor #gaylor #taylor swift #Karlie Kloss

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aardvaark · 3 years

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it was semi-believable back when there was hardly such a thing as an accessible internet, BUT no one could feasibly have a secret identity as a superhero these days due to social media lemme just. okay.

we have paparazzi for celebrities, its gonna be 100x more for superheroes realistically. they would have a fanbase online who would clearly want to find out who they are. plus i think c*ps might be trying to find them.

let’s take spiderman as an example. it should have taken a few months at most imo. even though he has a fully body suit, we still have criteria for him

- male (spider*man*, stereotypical body shaping, ‘masculine’-coded voice, etc) - young. age bracket would be about 15-25, and though they wouldn’t exactly expect someone that young, people are going to be lenient with age. and he’s clearly not very old - again, voice, use of language, appearance - primarily english-speaking w/american accent. - you can get a very accurate height from photos & videos (as we know from that one dude on tiktok), and there is a LOT of media of spiderman - lives in NY - muscular to an extent, athletic physique, somewhat thin.

ofc you can be like “well that barely helps” but heres some stats.

7 billion ppl in the world.

8.4 million in NY.

4.2 million men in NY (roughly)

504,000 men in NY between 15-24 (about 12% of NY.)

352,800 men in NY between 15-24 whose first langauge is english/would likely have american coded accent (added a bit bc ppl with other langauges may easily still have an american-coded accent like Spiderman’s)

137592 men in NY between 15-24 similar accent height close to tom holland’s (which is current spiderman: 39%)

42654 men in NY right age right height right langauge/accent similar physique (69% americans considered overweight or obese)

38389 ‘’ who do not have a disability which would make it actually not possible for them to do what spiderman has done (note: i still firmly believe anyone could be spiderman, à la the entire movie about Miles Morales and a cartoon pig and a black and white old detective movies guy etc etc, but videos and stuff from THIS specific reality have shown spiderman do certain stunts, walk without aid for long periods of time, etc. this list is not about ‘who can be spiderman’ but about ‘who from his universe could be this person whose superhero identity is spiderman’)

so now we’ve narrowed down 8.4 mil to 38389. just under 0.46% of NY is still eligible by discounting ppl on very basic facts. thats still a whole lot, but its... a significant amount less. now we make some assumptions.

he’s at an age where he would be at school, college or an apprenticeship. let’s be real, none of those are particularly flexible. you have a new criterion: search for ppl with high absences in education OR absences whenever spiderman is around during the day. its only a little, but its all you need. all you need is access to some school records, and it seems like just about anyone with any interest in tech in the universe spiderman is in, has the skills to break into literally all records ever, so this isn’t even a reach. (peter obviously would have to meet this criteria, plus being ‘lost’ on field trips an awful lot)

another group you would search would be anyone close to tony stark or that works at stark industries, for possible candidates. we know he’s getting tech from somewhere and is seen w the avengers on occasion or where they are. (peter’s... internship... meets this criteria. the fact that its sorta unofficial and unexplained makes it that much dodgier.)

another group is young men of over-average IQ or do ‘intellectual’ things. boys who are really into science, essentially. cause he had to make his suit somehow, he has to be keeping up grades to some extent, he has to be smart to get away w it, he has to manufacture web fluid. you’d search participants in competitions, awards that are handed out to school and college students, scholarship programs for science, etc. (peter does meet this criteria in fact; academic decathalon, science school, high grades.)

so essentially your method would be:

to go through (students) + (ppl close to stark industries) + (highly intelligent). we can assume a candidate would meet AT LEAST ONE of these points (peter meets all 3).

file out anyone who isn’t in that, like, less than 0.5% of people who fit his physical description

suddenly you have a far more concise list, of which you can count out anyone who has an obviously different body shape/features/etc which completely don’t coincide with all the images of spiderman

suddenly you have a far more concise list of people to track.

from here, you want to find anything dodgy, like the weird stark internship thing which sorta just got made for peter parker, or ppl with excessive injuries, sick days, etc

AND this is all based on the assumption that no one’s been snapping shots of him while even a small bit of his skin is exposed (eg if he is injured), or that he’s never given any information whatsoever about himself like having an aunt or what colour his hair is or his favourite flavour soup. and that no one has ever followed him home at least a short way.

if we use some of those, then

we would know he’s either white, very light-skinned or has vitiligo (depends how much skin exposed)

we would know he’s vaguely from queens & surrounding area

we could discount people whose favourite soup flavour is tomato or something idek

my point being, it gets narrower and narrower. you’d end up with at most like 30 subjects, who you would monitor and someone might even leak the names. this is just something fans (who don’t care about his safety much) could do, but imagine if you were his enemy and actually had to find him. or stark did it, right? it’s just not particularly hard. i very firmly believe ppl would find him. i dont agree w it, cause tbh i’d rather a superhero keep their secret identity or else they’d get prosecuted and stuff by c*ps, but ppl would likely do this. and this is a superhero whose face we have never seen, much less his skin or eye colour hair colour etc.

tl;dr clark kent needs to fucking step it up my dude

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 3 years

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Happiness Continues

Part 11: The Delivery

Summary: Jensen and Y/n welcome their newest addition to this world.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 7.2K+

Warnings: Language, angst, descriptions of labor and birth

Author’s Note: Baby Ackles is finally ready to make their first appearance. If you have been following this story since the beginning, you may want to grab a tissue, there just might be some tears (happy tears tho). Also, I will preface this chapter by saying I have never been pregnant nor given birth so please don’t @ me with any inaccuracies, I tried my dudes. Special thanks to my loves for the constant undeserved support and my devoted beta @emoryhemsworth xoxo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

The winter sun had long ago dipped underneath the horizon, the night bringing a new level of quiet to the residential corner where the birthing center was located. Inside birthing suite two, the only soft light came from the LED strips that followed the length of the walls at the base and ceiling. Currently, they were tuned low and blue, the light mixing with the neutral decor in a way that made her feel like she was underwater.

Curled on her side in the queen-sized bed, Y/n watched out the window on the opposite wall. Through the sheer curtain, the center’s garden could be visualized. It expanded a few hundred yards until the treeline of the nearby forest began. In silence, she watched the water trickle from the stone fountain in the center. It had been turned off for the season, but the rain that had fallen earlier in the evening still clung to the piece, each drop falling in a slow rhythmic pattern.

Y/n found it more soothing than what the fountain had looked like last summer when they had first toured the place. She assumed if she was laboring in spring or summer, walking the trails in the garden would be something she found herself doing, even late in the evening as it was currently. But that was a dream she had let go of as the temperature dropped. All she had now was the counting of each drop in between contractions.

The instinct to hold her breath took over as the next contraction washed over her, the sharp inhale of breath alerting the dozing man next to her. Y/n closed her eyes and focused on taking deep breaths, trying to ground herself to the moment. Fingers pressed into her lower back, one on either side of her spine, applying counter-pressure to the contraction.

“Harder,” her word was weak, even in the quiet room. The pressure increased instantly, helping her to focus back on breathing through the contraction. It felt like a lifetime later when the pain began to subside before eventually tapering off. The sheets shuffled in the dark behind her before she felt an arm wrap around her abdomen.

“Where are you at?” Jensen’s voice broke into the room as he pulled her tight against his chest.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her gaze back on the fountain outside. “Trying to be anywhere but here.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Birth our child?” she tried, unable to stop the smile from creeping up on her face. If there was one thing Y/n didn’t handle well, it was being in pain. She would put back up every wall that anyone had become successful in tearing down, choosing to stew in silence. It was a defense mechanism she had perfected long ago. Never let them see you sweat. Unfortunately, that also meant that she tended to get mean, keeping it all bottled up until she exploded like a shaken can of soda. She truly wished right then that she had a catheter in her back delivering the good meds to her lower body, but she had committed long ago to do this as naturally as possible, her comfort be damned.

“As soon as they figure out how to do that, I’ve got you, babe,” Jensen chuckled behind her, close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. She nodded in unfortunate understanding, her hand coming to rest atop her husband’s where it lay on her belly.

“Actually, could you top off my water bottle?” Y/n spoke back up after a moment of content silence.

“Of course. Ice?” He questioned, already climbing from the bed to grab her bottle on the nightstand near her.

“Please,” she confirmed.

“Be back in a flash,” Jensen pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before leaving the room to get ice from the main kitchen in the birthing center. A sigh left her mouth as she pulled herself into a semi-sitting position on the bed and grabbed her phone from where it lay charging. There was a mix of messages in her notifications, all from friends and family with varying messages of encouragement. She appreciated the gesture but to be honest, what Y/n wanted more than anything was to not have all the attention on her. It was yet another symptom of being uncomfortable. Her solace lay in the simple fact that she was not expected to answer any of the messages she received, considering she was in labor and all. Forgetting why she even grabbed the device in the first place, Y/n noted the time and tossed it back on the nightstand.

It was officially after midnight. Well, technically it was almost twelve-thirty which meant it was Jensen’s birthday. Y/n had found it funny when he had called his mother earlier to let her know that the baby was coming, Jensen had made his stupid joke only to have his face fall when Donna had laughed a little too hard. Her husband was caught up thinking about his mother and teasing the older woman that it didn’t even cross his brain what Y/n going to labor meant for him. Now, as she found herself nearly seven centimeters dilated as the clock turned into the new day, it seemed their baby would share its birthday with their father.

Jensen came back then, breaking her out of her thoughts but unable to knock the warm smile from her face. He walked around to her side and perched on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under him as he faced her. Y/n took a drink of the cool liquid, relishing in the calm it brought her.

“What is that smile about?” He had an equally bright smile of his own, unable to contain it as he watched his wife.

“Nothing just… happy birthday,” the pregnant woman shrugged in her seat, her eyes casting down to wear her hands now cradled her bump.

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed, his heart feeling so whole when he thought about it that it felt as though it might burst from his ribcage. There was so much love for the woman in front of him, he didn’t know what to do with it. It scared him sometimes. It didn’t matter what was happening at the moment, but he could look at her and he would forget for a second that the world existed outside them and all he knew was that she made everything okay. His heart would skip a beat so fast he barely noticed and the urge to cry became overwhelming. Only this time, he refused to fight it, allowing a few tears to well up in his eyes.

“What’s this about?” Y/n sat up, concern now etched into her features as she brought herself close enough to her husband that she could wipe away the single tear that had escaped down his cheek with her thumb. She had caught sight of it, of course, even in the low light of the room. In the few silent seconds that he sat there smiling, she felt warm under his stoic gaze, unsure of what was going on in that head of his. Jensen shook his head, his smile still not faltering.

“I love you,” he said simply.

“I love you, too,” Y/n agreed, her concern melting away and taking with it the crease in her brow. Her husband cradled her face in his hands, pulling her face up to press his lips to hers. He poured every emotion that was currently making him dizzy into that kiss, afraid that if he didn’t, she would never know. But she did know, and though Y/n didn’t need more than those three words, she couldn’t deny him the release he so evidently needed. The desperation seeped from his every pore as his lips brushed against hers, unwilling to part until the need for air overtook everything else.

A gentle knock on the door snapped his brain back down to Earth. Jensen released his hold on her face, watching as it took her a second longer to open her eyes once they parted. He cleared his throat before calling out.

“Come in.”

Their midwife, Melek, snuck into the room, not making a sound as she closed the door behind her. She turned the lights up just a touch, giving the couple a warning beforehand.

“Hey, I’m just back to check your progress,” she snatched a pair of gloves from their place in one of the drawers and came to the side of the bed Jensen was still perched on. He moved out of her way as Y/n scooted down the bed slightly. Melek asked Y/n how she was feeling as she went about her work. The midwife listened and nodded along to everything she explained.

“Well, we are getting very close. Based on how you’ve progressed so far, this baby could be here in the next couple of hours. You are going to start feeling the urge to push soon, might feel like you have to poop, don’t ignore that or any other changes you notice.” Melek stood from the bed and tossed her gloves before washing her hands. She made a note on the whiteboard in the room before coming back over to the couple.

“You are welcome to continue relaxing, whatever feels best. However, if you feel up to it, I would suggest taking a walk in the garden. I know it’s cold and late, but it will help to energize you before the big work starts.”

“Thank you. Is that safe?” Y/n was adjusting her nightgown back into place as she talked.

“Yes, if you choose to take a walk, I would go now. No longer than twenty minutes outside and I will be back in another hour,” Their midwife confirmed. The couple nodded in acknowledgment of her words, offering her more words of ‘thanks’ as she exited the suite.

“Well, what do you think, momma?” Jensen put his hands on his hips as he looked down at her.

“Couldn’t hurt,” Y/n shrugged. She offered him an innocent smile. “Help me put on my shoes?”

“Deal.”

****

A low groan emanated from her chest as she battled through her current contraction. Her hands were locked around Jensen’s neck as she rested her head on his shoulder. The actor was rocking her back and forth, once again applying counterpressure to her lower back.

“Oh god, I feel nauseous,” Y/n breathed out as the contraction subsided. She let up on the weight she had been putting on her husband.

“That’s normal though, right?”

“Yeah, I was just venting,” she let the air out of her lungs rush past her lips. “I don’t expect you to do anything about it.” Her words were clipped as they tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them. The laboring woman cringed as she felt her husband stiffen underneath her. The soda had popped. Her movements were hesitant as she raised her head to look at him, regret written across her face.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, you are allowed to do whatever you want to me today.” The smile that graced his lips was tight, but she suspected it was more from the exhaustion than anything. She could see the heaviness in his eyes.

“No, it’s not. Come on, yell at me. Tell me you don’t need that shit because you were just trying to be helpful,” she pleaded with him, the guilt heavy in her chest.

“You want me to pick a fight with you while you are in labor?” Amusement was heavy in his words.

“Yeah, please? I deserve it. You are being far too nice to me.”

“It’s not happening. Sorry, babe.” Y/n growled in frustration, causing her husband to throw his head back and laugh.

The sound of yet another knock had her releasing her grip on her husband as she called the midwife in. It was time for the hourly check of her labor progression, a task that Y/n had grown a distinct distaste for. As the hours came and went and it felt like nothing was happening, it all just felt pointless. At this point, she was begging this kid to come out.

Melek made quick work of the check, a smile on her face after when she pulled off her gloves. “Seems as though it’s time, momma. You are fully dilated. How are you feeling?”

“Uh,” Y/n shared a look with her husband as their midwife headed over to the tub on the opposite side of the room and started the water. She gave a quick synopsis of what had happened in the last hour before asking, “Are we pushing now?”

“We can start. Sounds like you’ve already had some urges to. Right now it’s about listening to your body and what it’s telling you. I’m going to grab the nurse while you get in the water.” Melek left the water running and the couple dumbstruck.

“Okay, I guess this is happening,” Y/n scoffed, allowing her husband to help her from the bed. He stripped down to his boxer briefs while she slipped off the gown she was wearing, leaving her as naked as the day she was born. Jensen helped her into the tub and down to sit between his legs. As the water reached its max level, he stopped the tap and urged her to sit back against his chest.

True to her word, Melek was back in no time with a nurse and everything else they would need. They flourished around the room, getting ready as yet another contraction hit. Y/n’s grip on her husband tightened, her mind focused on one thing now. Jensen was whispering in her ear, helping to guide her breaths. Y/n gave in to the urge to push, more than ready now to have this over with. The pattern was quick and repeated itself again, and then again, and again.

The time clicked away on the clock on the far wall, each passing minute mocking the laboring woman as it turned over the hour. If she had thought she was exhausted before, it was nothing compared to how she felt now. Sweat dripped from her forehead, small tendrils of hair that had fallen from the bun on top of her head stuck to her flushed skin. She dropped her head onto her husband’s shoulder, soft pants passing her lips as she tried to relax before the next contraction hit.

Only it didn’t take long, the pain returning before she even had time to think. The contraction had her doubling in on herself, concentrating on bearing down. Her scream originated low in her chest, the sound of it low as it echoed out in the room. Y/n knew that Melek was coaching her, but she couldn’t hear the words anymore, her body too far spent.

“I can’t,” As the contraction dissipated, she threw her head back and hid her face in the crook of Jensen’s neck.

“You can, Y/n. Your body was made to do this,” Melek encouraged, a hand on the poor woman’s shoulder. Y/n swatted it away as she let out another sob.

“No, I can’t. I’m too tired,” her shoulders shook as she let it all out. Jensen turned and placed a kiss on her temple.

“Honey, if anyone can do this it’s you,” he whispered in her ear. “I know you’re tired and that means you are ready to quit, but you can’t, not yet. Just think about holding our baby in your arms, you are so close.”

Another sob shook through her as she indicated her disagreement with his words. She wanted to believe him, she wanted to believe him so badly it hurt but Y/n had never felt so defeated in her life. This was finally it and she couldn’t do it.

“Look at me, Y/n.” He waited for her eyes to open and focus on him. “You can and you will. I’m right here, I’ve got you. You are gonna push this baby out and we are gonna love it so much all this will be a distant memory. Nothing else will matter but the life we created.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” she hiccuped out with a laugh. Jensen chuckled along with her, offering another kiss to her temple. They nodded at each other, silent words being passed between them just before the next contraction hit. This time she put all her energy behind it, refusing now to be defeated. It was far from easy, but only she could do it now.

She couldn’t be sure how many contractions later it happened, the only thing she was sure of was the instant relief that washed over her body. Her eyes snapped open as Melek pulled her gook covered baby from the warm water of the tub, holding up its long body so both her and Jensen could see.

“It’s a boy!” Melek announced, placing the infant against Y/n’s bare chest. It all happened in a second and Y/n was holding her son in her arms. Jensen was peppering her face with kisses and muttering soft praises, his arms wrapped around her and helping the nurse wipe the baby clean. More sobs racked her body as soft cries came from the tiny body in her arms. Everything felt like too much like her whole being was vibrating on some new frequency she didn’t yet understand. It was invigorating and terrifying at the same time.

“I told you!” Y/n turned to look at her husband, the sobs that had been shaking through her now intermixed with soft laughter.

“Yeah, you did, babe. I’ll promise to never question you again,” the smile on his face grew as soon as he realized what she was talking about. The giggles coming from his wife seemed to seep into him and soon he was laughing along with her.

Y/n feigned a scoff, chuckles still seeping past her lips and a beautiful smile on her lips. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Ackles.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

****

It took a while before anyone was able to pry her son from her arms and even then, she refused to give up to anyone besides Jensen. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust the nurse or midwife, she just felt that if she gave him up, the feeling in her chest would go with him. Only the soft voice of her husband was able to coax her out of the bubble she had wrapped herself into. Reluctantly, she handed the infant off to her husband who passed him on to be weighed and measured.

The nurse was then able to help her out of the tub and into the shower, washing away the remnants of her son’s birth from her body. In that short amount of time, she ached to hold her son again. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything besides him, and it pissed her off. She didn’t feel in control of herself, consumed by the maternal instincts now flooding her neurons.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Jensen was propped up against the headboard, his legs casually crossed at the ankle in front of him. Discarded still at the foot of the bed was his shirt he had peeled away before they had gotten into the tub, but he had slipped his Nike joggers back on his tall frame. His large hands dwarfed their son, who was only in a diaper, where Jensen held him against his chest. The couple shared a smile before she made her way over to him, climbing gingerly into the bed next to her husband and son. Y/n curled herself into his side as the nurse left them to be alone.

“Nine pounds and seven ounces, twenty-one inches long,” Jensen smirked down at the sleeping infant. Y/n choked out a breath, her jaw dropping open in the process.

“Jesus, I’m never gonna be the same,” she blew out a breath. The tired woman laid her head against her husband’s shoulder, her eyes never leaving her sleeping child. She could feel her husband shaking softly with laughter. Mostly, she was just as amused as him, but on the other hand, she wasn’t kidding.

As she settled into her spot, their son began to stir, his face scrunching into a frown. Jensen moved quickly, pulling the kid away and offering him to his mother.

“What, the first time he even indicates he might cry and you immediately hand him over to me?” Y/n leans away from her husband, a confused frown etched into her features.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t have the goods,” the Texan flicked his eyes down at her chest before looking back at her face. He had one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face.

“Okay, how do you even know he’s hungry? Maybe he needs to be changed?”

“He’s fresh out of the womb and hasn’t eaten anything, you do the math,” Jensen held him out again. Y/n rolled her eyes for effect when the truth was she couldn’t wait to get her hands on that baby again.

“Well go get the midwife, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Y/n tilted her head towards the door. She had one hand cradling the infant and her other was working to pull her gown away from her chest.

“Right,” he bounded from the bed, grabbing his shirt as he went and pulling it over his head. The door barely had time to shut behind him before he was returning, Melek in tow. The midwife was more than helpful, guiding Y/n and her baby through their first feeding. It took them a few tries before it seemed like they finally got the hang of it. Melek left them again to the peace of the early morning.

The sun had yet to breach the horizon but that didn’t stop the birds from putting on a show outside. Jensen had climbed back into bed with his family, situating himself as close as possible to his wife. It gave him the best vantage to watch the miracle they had created. He rested his hand on the baby’s head, rubbing his thumb across the infant’s hair.

Y/n didn’t even bother averting her gaze as her husband nestled into her side. She was far too transfixed on her son. Every emotion felt magnified a thousand times since she gave birth, to the point where she felt like she might burst. It was hard to sort through them, the exhaustion of her body not helping at all. Now, as she stared down at the precious life she and Jensen had created, the only thing she felt was calm. His eyes were closed as he fed, the soft gurgles and breaths he let out the only noise in the suite.

“He’s perfect,” she mumbled to no one in particular, she just felt it needed to be said.

“He really is,” Jensen agreed. “I had no doubt, which is why I got you this.” Y/n tore her eyes away then as Jensen procured a long velvet case from behind him. He offered the object to Y/n who took it with her free hand.

“What is this? It’s your birthday today, not mine,” she tried arguing.

“Just open it, you dork. Besides, you’ve already given me the best gift I could ever have,” Jensen urged her to open it. His eagerness washed off him as he smiled at her, his hand back on his son’s head.

Being careful to not jostle the child eating in her arms, Y/n used both hands to flip open the case. Laying against a dark cushion inside was a gold bracelet with a row of seven round stones in the center. She caught the card that was placed inside when it tried to fall away, reading the small paragraph.

‘Customised with seven beautifully crafted semi-precious stones amidst a string of shimmering beads. Each stone is traditionally associated with various characteristics that also typify those born in that particular month – The March birthstone is Aquamarine, which has a pale blue appearance and symbolizes honesty, loyalty, and happiness.’

The tears fell from her eyes as she read, threatening to turn into full-blown sobs. Y/n sniffed as her emotions continued to get the better of her, using the end of the blanket to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. Happiness. There wasn’t anything she could think of better to describe how she was feeling. It was indescribable happiness that had begun on that New Year’s Eve two years ago and continues through the life she now held in her arms. It was happiness she feared she would never get to experience, and yet, here she was.

“Jay, this is beautiful. But how-”

“I ordered one for February too, can’t be too careful,” he answered before she could ask, earning a giggle from his wife. “You really like it?”

“Honey, I love it. I can’t imagine a more perfect gift.”

“Here,” Jensen pushed away from the headboard and offered his hand to take the case from her. She handed it back to him, allowing him to take the delicate bracelet from its setting. He urged her to raise her arm, making quick work of clasping the piece of jewelry around her right wrist. “There, perfect.”

“Perfect,” she agreed.

****

The midwife cleared Y/n and the baby to go home just before noon that day. They had spent less than twenty-four hours in the birthing center, but as she dressed her son to go home she couldn’t help but feel like she was going to miss it. That stupid little room now held so much meaning to her, and she hated it. The exhaustion and hormones were making her stupidly sentimental.

As they turned into their driveway, Jensen was forced to pull their SUV into the yard since the entirety of their driveway was filled with cars. He hopped out of the driver’s seat to help Y/n from the car before grabbing the car seat with their son inside. Her husband allowed her to waddle along in front of him, a smirk on his lips when she looked over her shoulder before opening the gate to their home.

Across the stone courtyard, she could see their family all huddled in front of the expansive window that saw into their living room. Everyone waved excitedly as the new family made their way towards the house. Y/n took in the faces of her and Jensen’s parents, along with her brothers and their families. Jensen’s siblings were too far out to make it right now, but even still Y/n was surprised to see her brothers. Donna and Alan had come down as soon as they called to let them know Y/n was in labor, staying in their guestroom for the coming week to help the new parents adjust. She expected her parents too, even though they couldn’t stay longer than the night, rooming in Jared’s guesthouse and leaving in the morning. But yeah, her brothers were a surprise.

The family was greeted and the door, an array of excited faces welcoming them home. Someone had hung a ‘congratulations’ banner, with a matching ‘happy birthday’ one just below it. Everyone wrapped the new mother up in a tight embrace before passing her along to the next family member while the kids swarmed Jensen and the baby. It took quite some convincing from the parents to quiet down the little ones, all excited to meet their new cousin and forgetting that they needed to chill out as he was sleeping currently.

“Alright,” Jared’s voice broke above the commotion of multiple conversations. “As the godfather and the whole reason this child even exists, I call dibs on holding him first!” He looked to his sister, his brows high on his forehead as he waited for her answer.

“You all are going to get a turn, I don’t care who goes first. But stop saying you are the reason he exists, it’s weird… ” She waved him on before adding, “and don’t forget the sanitizer.”

Jensen lifted the car seat to the island as Jared bounced over to him. He literally was bouncing on the balls of his feet, his sister rolling her eyes as she followed behind him. The giant of a man moved delicately as he pulled the sleeping infant from the car seat. If she had thought her son looked small in her husband’s arms, it had nothing on how he looked compared to Jared. He took the newborn over to sit on the couch, all the cousin’s swarming him in no time.

“You need anything?” Jensen put his hand on her lower back to bring her attention from their family to him.

“A water?” She suggested as she looked over to him, knowing she would need it sooner rather than later. He nodded and turned to grab a water bottle for her. A soft ‘oh’ had her turning her head back towards her husband. Jensen stepped out of the way to show her their freezer full of Tupperware of different foods.

“We all made a few things for the freezer. I know Donna is staying with you for a little while, but once she is gone, you’ll thank me,” Y/n’s mother appeared next to her.

“Thanks, mom,” Once again she found herself fighting back the tears as she pulled her mother into a tight embrace. Sharon ran her hands up and down her daughter’s back as the younger woman refused to let go. Half of it was not wanting to let go, the other half was hiding her tears in the black sweater her mother wore. When she finally relented, Jensen was standing there with a tissue. He offered it to his wife who took it with a sheepish smile before he also hugged his mother-in-law.

The group in the kitchen returned to the living room where the rest of the family was, fussing over the baby. Jensen sat down in his chair near the fireplace that was angled to where the rest of the family was on or near the couch. He grabbed his wife’s wrist and pulled down along with him, situating her into his lap. The new mother fidgeted in her seat, struggling to get comfortable.

“Would you stop that?” Jensen’s voice was low in her ear as he squeezed her legs in a vain attempt to hold her still.

“I-,” She shifted again with a soft sigh before turning to whisper in his ear. “I’m very sore down there, and your legs are not the most comfortable right now.” His lips formed a thin line as he nodded. Before she could say anything else, he lifted and moved them both so she was situated in between him and the side of the chair, effectively taking the pressure off of her sensitive area.

“Better?”

“God yes,” she huffed before snuggling into his side. The couple watched content as their family traded their son around. The looks of amazement from the kids and the near tears from the adults filled her heart more than she imagined it could have ever been before. Just when she thought it was full, it somehow found room for more love and happiness.

“So, have you two decided on a name yet?” Sharon spoke up as he was passed to her. The older woman was gently bouncing on her feet, her husband peering over her shoulder.

The new parents shared a look, unsure which of them should answer the question to the information they had filled out in his birth certificate just before leaving for home. Everyone had been asking since they got the news he was officially here, though the couple didn’t have an answer as they struggled to come up with something. Jensen tilted his head to her, signaling that she should answer.

“Yes, after an agonizing two hours of staring at him and willing him to tell us what his name should be, we finally picked one,” Y/n explained, her husband chuckling next to her at the memory of her talking to him as he slept. “His name is Ezra Jay Ackles.”

There were murmured compliments and agreements that the name more than fit the little bundle of joy they had just welcomed into their family. Sharon passed Ezra on to his other grandmother, the woman giddy as she took over baby holding duty. Ezra had woken up by now, his dark eyes searching and unsure of the commotion around him, but he had yet to fuss.

“Did you go with Jay because he looks just like Jensen?” she questioned, not taking her eyes off the infant in her arms.

“Ugh don’t remind me,” Y/n huffed, her face scrunched up at her mother-in-law’s words.

“Hey, I thought you liked the way I looked,” Jensen pouted next to her, but she could see the twinkle in his eye.

“That’s not the point. It would be just my luck that I carried him for nine months, was in labor for over eighteen hours while also needing to feed him every two hours, for him to look just like his dad. Where’s the justice in that?” Y/n frowned as her family laughed at her confession.

“Welcome to my world,” Gen piped up. “All of them, little clones of their dad.” The Padalecki women all nodded in agreement to that sentiment, much to the annoyance of their husbands.

“Hey, the Padalecki genes are strong, we can’t help it,” Jared protested, making Jensen throw his head back in laughter.

“If that’s true then I guess the Ackles genes are even stronger,” the new father countered, earning a shove from his wife.

“Alright you two, put the rulers away,” her joke got the rest of the room cackling at the boys’ expense. That satisfied the woman more than she would ever admit.

Not long after the reveal of their baby’s name, the family began to pack things up and head out. It had been a busy and tiring twenty-four hours for the new little family, and their loved ones headed out to give them some peace. Once everyone was gone, Alan offered to go to the store and grab something to whip up for dinner, leaving just Donna with the new parents.

“Y/n, honey, why don’t you go lay down. I know you haven’t really slept since yesterday,” Donna piped up, noting how the woman’s eyes were getting heavy. She was curled up on the couch next to her husband who was holding their son once again. Donna was picking up the mess left by the family.

“Mmm that sounds good but he will have to feed soon, I should just stay here,” Y/n answered with a hum. She couldn’t deny, a nap sounded wonderful but everything was about Ezra and his needs now.

“Couldn’t we just give him a bottle?” Jensen asked, earning a shake of the head from both of the women in the room.

“No, if you guys are committed to breastfeeding, she’s got to get her milk supply in and the best way to do that is for him to feed. Also, there is nipple confusion,” Donna stated matter of fact with Y/n nodding along the whole time.

“Nipple confusion?” Jensen looked to his wife, confusion written all over his face. The term sounded familiar to the actor, but he couldn’t for the life of him come up with a definition.

“It means that Ezra could get confused between the bottle and the breast, and the concern is that he would prefer the bottle,” Y/n explained, her hand absentmindedly running along her son’s cheek.

Jensen nodded in understanding and shrugged, “Not if he’s my son.”

The new mother reared back in confusion. “Why?” was the only thing Y/n could say after she and Donna looked at him with equal disgust and disappointment. Jensen grimaced under their looks before she continued. “Your mother is in the room.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Mom, I don’t know why I said it,” the look of shame on his face morphed into fear as he prepared for a scolding, but that moment never came. Instead, Donna stood and walked over to where they were seated.

“Alright, give me the kid,” the older Mrs. Ackles reached out for her grandson. Jensen gave him up without question. “Both of you need to sleep. Don’t worry, I will come and get you if he gets hungry.”

“It’s best not to argue with her when she makes that face,” Jensen muttered under his breath, but not so quiet that his mother didn’t hear him. She raised her brow at him, an action that was remarkably similar to the one Jensen often emulated.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Y/n agreed, allowing her husband to help her to her feet. Jensen gave his mom a quick peck on the cheek in passing as he pulled his wife along with him to their bedroom.

Inside the curtains were still drawn from when they had left yesterday, only a small sliver of light peeking into the room from its edges. Neither of them bothered with changing, knowing it was too much work for now. Instead, Jensen just turned down the bed, allowing them to slip under the cool covers. He settled into the pillows, lifting his arm to invite her back to his side. Of course, she obliged, snuggling into his chest with one hand placed where she could feel the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips.

Jensen wrapped his arm around her, his hand resting against her arm, rubbing soft circles against her skin. He stared up at the ceiling in the semi-dark room, watching the spinning blades of their ceiling fan make countless revolutions. His mind was racing, all the emotions of the last day starting to get to him now that he had nothing else to focus on.

Y/n was silent as well, but he knew she hadn’t fallen asleep yet, her body still too tense to have fully succumbed to the exhaustion. If he wanted to ever get some shut-eye, he knew he had to get some things off his chest. He needed to let go.

“You know what this reminds me of?” There was a gruff undertone to his voice, yet it still managed to be soft as he sought to not startle his wife. She hummed in response, letting him know she was listening. “Our first night together. Well, after… everything.”

“How so?” Y/n shifted so she could have a better view of her husband who now had her full attention.

“I couldn’t sleep then either. Too much going on in my head,” Jensen took a deep breath, his eyes still on the ceiling as he continued. “I kind of have this tendency to push all my emotions to the side to deal with them another time, even if that other time never comes, but that night, I just… I couldn’t get myself to do it. As I stared down at you, sleeping against my chest with that stupid little content smile on your face, I realized that you were worth all of it, every emotion: the fear, the anxiety, and even the guilt; they were all worth feeling for you.”

The crease in her brow deepened as her husband confessed to her what he went through that night. Jensen looked down at her then, a smile on his face and tears once again pooling in his eyes. He brought up his hand to caress her cheek before continuing.

“I never believed in love at first sight, hell, I still don’t, because even through all of that fear and anxiety what I felt most of all was love, and that didn’t happen overnight. It happened in the weeks we had spent in the makeup trailer, in the way you trusted me with the things you wouldn’t even tell your brother, and in your sarcastic comebacks that never failed to surprise me. I spent weeks falling in love with you and didn’t even realize it.”

“The only thing I could do was watch you sleep, so irrevocably in love with you that I was scared if I pushed away those bad feelings… if I didn’t consider every possible thing that could wrong from that moment on, that I would lose the best thing in my life now, so that’s what I did, just watched you sleep and go over every possible scenario my mind could come up with of how us being together could go wrong. I know...” He had to stop again, needing a moment to take a shuddering breath. “I know that day when I told you we needed a break hurt you and made you question everything I ever said to you and sure we’re past it now, but I really need you to know that when I came to you that next morning and asked you to go on one date with me, I didn’t make that decision lightly. I had decided before you even tried to sneak out of the guesthouse that you were worth everything.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” After he was silent for a moment, she couldn’t bear it any longer.

“Because I… I feel so much right now that I can’t shut it out. The love I feel for you and our son right now, I want to stay in that feeling forever. Even if it means facing every fear or anxiety over making sure you both are safe and happy and thriving. I just had to let you know that you two are my whole world now and I will spend the rest of my life never letting you forget it,” Jensen confessed, allowing the tears that he had been biting back now flow freely. Deep down he knew it was what he needed, that release of every emotion before he could truly relax. Just like she also knew that the time for words was over.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she nuzzled back into his side, pressing her cheek against his chest to listen to his heart again. Y/n knew it wasn’t easy for her husband to admit all of that to her. Those true moments where he exposed himself fully to her were rare. Not that she minded, Y/n didn’t need him to cut out his heart and serve it on a silver platter. Her husband was a man of action. He showed her all she needed to know in every first cup of coffee he brings her in the mornings or running her a bath when she needs time alone. Marriage is as much about the little things as it is about any grand declaration. If you asked Y/n, she would take the soft smiles and lingering touches over a grand speech any day, but this was nice too.

Part 12: Home

Forevers: @22sarah08 @akshi8278 @anathewierdo @atc74 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @briagallen @callmekda @dawnie1988 @deandreamernp @deanwanddamons @ellewritesfix05 @emoryhemsworth @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @katehuntington @lyarr24 @malfoysqueen14 @miss-nerd95 @mrsjenniferwinchester @msmarvelouswinchester @polina-93 @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan @smol-and-grumpy @suckmyapplejacks @superfanficnatural @supraveng @talesmaniac89 @thoughts-and-funnies @tranquility-or-chaos @waywardbeanie @winchest09

Happiness Continues: @afangirlreacts @anaelsbrunette @ashleyrose0117 @austin-winchester67 @cno92 @deanbowlegsackles @deangirl93 @deans-baby-momma @death-unbecomes-you @dvnmbabe @fangirl199813 @spndestiellover @hoboal87 @itsdesiree86 @jbsgirl4eber11 @let-me-luve-you @linki-locks11 @lunarmoon8 @neverland14353 @onethirstyunicorn @parinarain @rebeccathefangirl @rebelemilu @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @squirrelnotsam @stoneyggirl @supernatural3002 @traceyaudette @winchestergirl82 @winqhster @zpandaqueen

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blossom-hwa · 3 years

Text

Kingdom |Prologue: Catching Fire|

And so we begin :) please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment if you enjoyed!

Pairing: Juyeon x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, fantasy, royalty!au

Triggers: death, semi-graphic depictions of blood

Word Count: 1.8k

A spark of betrayal lights the flame of a war.

Tag list [ dm or send an ask to be added! ]: @itsapapisongo @dearseungie @chrisbahng @reverienostalgia @wingkkun @juyeo-on

TBZ Masterlist | Kingdom

Changmin can’t breathe. He can’t see, can’t hear, can’t even think over the pounding of his own heart as he strains helplessly against the chains that bind his arms. They dig into the stinging cuts on his skin, iron burning the magic that seeps from his blood.

How could everything have come to this, just days before Juyeon’s coronation, the coronation that was supposed to bring his kingdom to peace?

He struggles in his bonds, chains that bind the remaining magic in his veins, erasing the humming thrum that usually bubbles below his skin. It leaves him cold, empty, helpless as he strains against harsh metal imbued with spells he knows but can’t break.

His magic is gone.

Gone.

And the simmer in his blood isn’t the only thing that’s gone silent.

Bom steps around his kneeling body, her footsteps the only sound in the still air. Changmin raises his head to meet her solemn eyes, gazing down at him with a stony pity flashing in the darkness.

Changmin never liked Bom, never got over the crawling of his skin whenever she brushed by a little too close. She always seemed too cold, too uptight, and several times, he wondered how she was even ordained as a mage. Even now as he stares, refusing to back down even when he knows he can’t escape, his mouth twists into an expression of the faintest disgust, disgust for her single-mindedness that has plagued him, the Board’s gray mage, for the past five years.

“Why?” he finally asks, voice hoarse with remnants of shouts, cries of surprise and betrayal as he tried to fend away the mage standing before him. “Why would you do this?”

She’s opening her mouth, probably about to give some pithy reply to make his blood boil, but the shrine door opens with a crash and a bang before she can start. Another mage walks out, ivory robes stained with red.

High Mage Jung Sungkyu of the Ivory Kingdom. Changmin’s former mentor and a father figure.

Covered in blood.

Changmin blinks once. Twice.

The red doesn’t disappear.

So none of this is a hallucination, a nightmare he’ll soon wake up from.

Yes, this is the mage from whom he learned, the mage who bound him and his queen together in their promise, the mage whom he looked up to for so long. That kind, powerful mage is the same, the very same as the one walking toward him with bloodstained robes and an expression of pain on his face.

Blood stains.

Changmin doesn’t even want to think about what that means for those who didn’t manage to escape the shrine, for the guards who defended him, for the queen who told him to flee, the queen he left behind.

Oh, my queen…

A mask falls over Changmin’s features, and he stops struggling against the chains now cutting into his skin. His eyes bore into those of the mage walking forward, piercing holes into his skin until the man can’t even hold his gaze anymore and drops his head instead.

“You thought you could escape and warn your friends, didn’t you?” Bom asks, eyes impassive. Her lips curve slightly, coldly, blade-like under the crescent moon. Iron. “Don’t worry, young gray mage. We’ll pass on the message soon enough. We’re just not ready, not quite yet.”

We’re not ready.

We…

“We” doesn’t only include Bom and the high mage. This is something bigger.

We.

Changmin swallows, trying not to go dizzy from the realization. With every word that falls from his lips, he only becomes more certain that he’s right.

“You’re working with the princess.”

Pawns and kings, how can he warn Juyeon and his sister when he’s miles away, stuck in magic-binding chains, and, judging from the knife at Bom’s waist, about to die?

Stall. Stall, keep stalling. “How could you betray the orders like this?” he asks, desperation dripping from his lips. “You swore loyalty to the Board above all, not to your kingdom – why would you do this?”

“I believe the Board’s balance lies in supporting the ivory queen,” Bom says, a faint but manic glint of excitement entering her eyes. It makes Changmin’s skin crawl. “I am sworn to protect the balance, no? This is what I believe is best.”

“The princess is not the queen,” Changmin snaps, brain still running. How can he do anything without his magic? “She has no title other than that of a royal pawn.”

“Oh, she’ll be queen, soon enough.” Bom smiles, a curve of the lips that feels more like a knife blade than a grin.

What does that –

Oh.

Oh, no.

No.

His queen…

His queen must be dead.

Changmin’s head snaps upward, the gold insignia around his neck thumping painfully against his chest. Desperately, he looks at his old mentor.

He wouldn’t have killed his queen, would he? Might have subdued, might have knocked them out, but – he couldn’t have killed –

The mage refuses to meet his eyes.

Red clouds Changmin’s vision, mixes with the black of night and the cold light of the moon overhead. A scream builds in his chest that fights to leaves his lips as his head drops once more.

Lost in pain, barely able to breathe, he almost doesn’t feel the gold at his chest, the carved queen and king that always rest at the base of his throat. As he breathes, though, clearing his mind, the insignia dragging his neck to the ground catches his attention.

It’s charmed as it always has been, never to leave his side until death. The gold symbol, a queen and king standing next to each other on a miniature chessboard, is a gift passed down from one gray mage to another, one of only three keys that exist to unlock a kingdom’s crown jewels. It hasn’t left his neck since the day it was given to him by his predecessor when he was ordained at fifteen, one of the youngest to take on the mantle of gray mage.

They will take it when he dies. Undoubtedly they will – it holds magic, magic they will need for whatever it is they’re planning. At the very least, they wouldn’t leave such a powerful relic to be burned with his body.

So what are they planning?

“What do you plan to do, when your princess is a queen?” Changmin tries to make his voice sound as disbelieving as possible, hopes they can’t hear the shaking in his words. He’s rewarded with a twitch of Bom’s eye. “Surely you don’t think the ivory citizens will accept her, not when their current rulers are so loved?”

“That won’t matter.” Bom’s grin makes her look ghoulish under the moonlight. “Not when the entire Board is under our control.”

Changmin’s heart almost stops. Never, not once in the history of the Board, not even when the high orders had to intervene and send down the current laws of the land, has one kingdom attempted to completely take over the other. There have been revenge plots and assassination plans, even one notable attempt by the former ruby bloodline to murder the onyx royals, but nothing… nothing of this scale.

He needs to warn Juyeon.

“An ambitious plot,” he chokes out, all of his former nonchalance gone. The insignia quivers at his throat, a reminder of what will be lost if the ivory princess succeeds. “I suppose you’ll be going to the Onyx Kingdom next.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Bom dismisses him with a flick of her hand, ready to unsheathe her knife. “You’ll be dead then, anyway.”

But Changmin doesn’t hear her. He focuses on the knowledge that they’ll be going to the Onyx Kingdom, that they’ll probably take his insignia with them.

A plan springs into his mind, fully-formed and wholly impossible. Impossible because he needs magic, magic that’s been stolen from him by the chains that bind his wrists.

Wait.

He closes his eyes, blocks out the sound of Bom’s droning voice and the cold twinkling of stars overhead.

And focuses on the faintest thrumming of magic beneath his skin.

His magic isn’t gone. It’s subdued, yes, but it isn’t gone. There’s some left, simmering in his blood, and if he concentrates it, it will be just enough for…

A smirk threatens to form on Changmin’s lips as he strains, invisibly, against the chains. Magic coalesces under his control, forming a small but warm stream as it travels through his blood, coming to a stop at his chest, just beneath the insignia resting against his skin.

Find Juyeon.

“I see,” Changmin says blandly, not having heard a single word of what Bom just said. “Interesting.”

Find Juyeon.

An eyebrow raises. “Interesting, that I’m about to kill you?”

Changmin blinks. “Hasn’t it been obvious from the start?”

Find Juyeon.

The magic in his chest grows warmer, brighter, as Bom’s face twists into an embarrassed scowl. “Any last words, then?” she snaps.

The bland look stays on Changmin’s face, even though the bejeweled knife in Bom’s hands sends shivers up his spine. “No, not to you.”

Find Juyeon.

The insignia sears against his chest with heat. His skin must be burning – he can’t smell cooking flesh just yet, though it’s probably only a matter of time – but he grits his teeth and bears it. It means it’s working.

It means it’s working.

Silver flashes down, the knife arcing towards his neck. Changmin shuts his eyes, prays, thinks those two words over and over again, find Juyeon –

“Wait.”

The blade stops at his word. He blinks his eyes open, looking up not at Bom, but at the High Mage who’s frozen to the spot. It’s one question, a question whose answer has only been implied, an answer that he needs to know. “Is my queen alive?”

Silence follows his question, which only confirms what he knew but dreaded. And even though it feels like his heart is tearing apart, even though tears are beginning to in his eyes for the second time tonight, Changmin musters the strength to use that brief silence to speak those two words once more.

Find Juyeon.

“I see,” he finally says, staring fully at the old mage. High Mage Jung, his former mentor, one of the most powerful high mages, looks smaller than Changmin has ever believed him to be – small, weak, helpless as he gazes helplessly at the ground, robes stained with blood. “Well, you may proceed.”

“It’s not a question of whether you’ll permit it,” Bom snarls, bringing his attention back to her. “You’re at our mercy now.”

Find Juyeon.

This time, as the insignia sears its mark into his flesh, Changmin allows a smirk to spread across his face. “I suppose that’s what you might like to think.”

Bom’s snarl only grows harsher in the moonlight, but unlike before, Changmin doesn’t feel fear at the ghoulish twist of her lips. Instead, he takes a last comfort in the harsh burn of the insignia resting against his skin as the knife comes slicing down.

My queen, I’ll see you again, soon.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for changmin and me please don’t kill me)

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