new born king

olaquinn  asked:

your writings make me feel like Leo is a Fire Queen and Capricorn is an Ice Queen. Like they share some sort of royalty but in opposite ways? idk but it's so fascinating finding common traits (or opposite ones) in the signs! your writings have opened my eyes so much <3

hey ola! i soooo feel this, i so feel inherited royalty emanates from both leo and capricorn, the sun is the sovereign, every planet encircles the sun, the sun is leo’s throne… the heiress, this whole celebration of life is done for and by leo, its like they are born with a cosmic wand and this gives them command through life. the lion is the king of the jungle, you can see their reverence, you can see where the leo pride radiates. capricorn is sovereingty in every way, cosmic and wise, the grace and instruction of capricorn is naturally regal, the typical conduction is that of royalty, sophisticated and leading, capricorn is the revered christ child in astrology, waiting for the special one after 9 months of gestation beginning in aries, the capricorn birth is the arrival of the new born king/queen. but capricorn’s duty is much more severe, hence the crown can be quite icy cold and harsh. i love the fire queen~ice queen, so true.. leos and capricorns are to be worshiped, it is our cosmic duty! <3 Love you lots 

anonymous asked:

hey, can you recc any hurt!sam art? just out of curiosity ;u; thank you bby

Hi Anon

Yes I can. ^o^

I was about to recc you a couple of artworks but I love hurt!Sam so much that it got out of hand, so here’s a big list. Finding hurt!Dean is SO MUCH easier. I’m warning you, I self recced a bit, I hope it’s ok.

If you guys think about an artwork that isn’t on the list, please, add the link or the title in the comments/reblogs so that the anon can have a bigger list.



SHAMELESS SELF REC (I drew a couple of hurt!Sam artworks so…)

Voilà! I hope it helped!

A Father’s Love

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean goes to a church with his baby boy and reminisces on what Y/N was like.

Word Count:  1160 (including lyrics)

Warnings: Angst, implications of character death, Slight Language, A bit of Fluff, Hope(?)

Author’s Note: Heyy guys!! So this is my entry for @jensen-jarpad‘s #Beca’s Christmas Challenge. My song was Little Drummer Boy. I hope you guys like it. I loved writing it!!! <3


The snow had built up high on the ground, making my boots sink a little as I trudged my way up the sidewalk, my eyes zeroed in on the tiffany glass that adorned the building. It was bitingly cold but I huddled the bundle of blankets closer to me and hunched my way against the wind.

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Flight Nobility Headcanons

Light and Ice flight are the most aristocratic of all flights. As the flights most concerned with history, record-keeping, and preservation, they’re the most likely to revere their old and influential clan lineages, some of which go back to the very first dragons created by their deity. (Technically they all do, but if you didn’t write it down, it doesn’t count. Getting rich afterward also helps.) Light flight in particular keeps detailed genealogies and records of their peerage, and marriages arranged between these two flights to increase family status is common. Ice flight nobility is known for being cold, dignified, and reserved, and pale/cool colors are considered a mark of good breeding since it’s said to represent pure blood from the very first ice colored dragons the Icewarden created. They rule vast, lonely stretches of territory, and according to old customs, travelers passing through will detour to their lair to pay homage and receive hospitality. Light flight nobility consider pale/gold colors a similar mark of good breeding, but are much more social. They often host lavish balls, galas, manuscript viewings, and parties, where the guest lists (and who actually deigns to attend) can be incredibly cut-throat status jockeying. Not being invited to the season’s signature event can ruin a dragon’s reputation, but a deliberate snub from one who was invited and failed to attend can reflect just as badly on a host.

Earth flight should technically be included in this, as they too keep family histories going back centuries, but most of them are just too humble for the snobs of Ice and Light flight to see as worth associating with. They also prefer to relate their ancestry back not to their oldest, richest, and most influential ancestor, but to someone who performed a deed they admire. It’s not unusual to see Earth flight dragons adopt the name of the one who founded the museum they work in, or a mentor, or historical figure, in addition to their own, particularly if they hope to follow in their footsteps. Archaeologists uncovering tombs or ancient civilizations will occasionally choose to show their respect for the former inhabitants by taking their name, especially if this was the dig that made their career. However, it’s rarely done, because if they take their name not out of respect but as a brag, that’s a fast way to get cursed or haunted.

Shadow flight is full of royalty. They love tricks and intrigue, and they love to win, and what are power and titles but yet another marker on the gameboard? Any clan leader can declare themselves royalty without challenge, and set up their court, be they never so base. The challenge is not in the claiming, but in the keeping. Shadow courts are full of backstabbing, gossip, spying, plotting, and power grabs, some for the sake of fun, some in deadly earnest. They are rackscrabble, ostentatious things, all smoke and mirrors, black velvet drapes and raven wings turning a chair into a throne, laughing behind their paws at the knowledge of what a joke it all is to pretend themselves lords and ladies. Most of them have the time of their lives playing at being royalty and nobles like a massive game of chess, knowing it means both everything and nothing. It pisses Light the hell off to have all these jokers making a mockery of their very serious lineages, which is probably part of why they keep doing it.

Plague flight cares little for nobility or royalty. The strong will persist, the weak will fail. A warrior might add the name of a particularly strong or respected foe they slay to their own, to take on their strength and courage. And yet, there are whispers, of warrior kings and necromancer empresses, who rule vast kingdoms of both the living and dead, from atop ziggurats built of bone, made ever more powerful by living sacrifices. There are tales of the times when their armies swept across Sornieth, slaying and devouring all in their path, seeking to build an empire of blood. There is a reason the Gladekeeper wars so fervently with her sister, more so than old rivalries. Nothing slain in Nature’s domain can rise again; it rots and is devoured, and its bones lie unmoving. It would be best, if Plague’s denizens continued to care little for royalty.

Wind flight sees the occasional emperor, dignified in silk and jade, whose lineage is as ancient and pure as any Light dragon might claim, in whose veins runs aether and breeze. They are not widely known of outside the flight, keeping exclusively to their palaces. Their lives are bound around by strict tradition and ritual, by rules as old as their land. They are not public figures to be petitioned and admired by the masses, but dragons of great import, whom a subject might see once in their lifetime, from a lofty distance, and count themselves blessed. It is death for a dragon who has not been given dispensation to touch them, and the family lineages of their servants are often almost as old as they are, generations born with blood sanctified not to defile their palace or person. They are the stability, the anchors, the writ and rule, the hand that holds a free-flying kite’s strings while it soars and flutters. As Wind’s emperors tend to live in unchanging isolation, letting the years outside pass them by unchanging, many view them as only an old myth now.

Lightning does not give two shits about whether a dragon is nobility or not. The true rulers there are barons and bosses, self-made titans of industry who run Lightning’s electricity farms, factories, railways, or assembly lines, commanding a veritable army of workers. The older nobility wishes they could snub them, but the wealth and influence they’ve made for themselves, the fast-paced parties and the glittering luxuries and conveniences they produce, are impossible to ignore, despite their sniffs about “young money” and “not our sort.”

Nature flight has had their kings. They are feasted and pampered, garbed in crowns of leaves and oaken scepters, kept in luxury. Beautiful consorts, the finest of food, the richest of furs to line their bower, all is theirs for the asking. Until the winter comes long with no promise of spring, until the harvest fails, until the blood moon shines and the omens line up. Then comes the stone altar and the knife, and royal blood shed to serve their subjects in the most great and final of sacrifices. When Nature gives, she is bountiful and generous, but what she takes is gone for good. And the spring comes again, the harvest flourishes, and soon, a new king is born.  

Water flight reveres its seers above all else, and it is their lineage that marks a dragon as such. Water dragons take as their family name that of the greatest seer they are related to, and as such they may change when a new one rises to prominence. This makes name and rank an intricate and changeable dance beneath the Sea of a Thousand Currents. Some dragons of the same family, particular older ones, would rather continue to call themselves by the name of an older, or long dead, seer whom they believe is greater than one with a newly risen star. This can lead to bitter disputes, and entire branches of families going by separate names, refusing to speak to or acknowledge each other. (Water flight has many great plays that hinge upon such separation among families. Water flight’s literary aesthetic is basically a mix of southern Gothic and Shakespearean tragedy.) However, above the surface, Water dragons who have left those halls behind likewise throw over the tradition. Where pirate kings rule, water dragons identify themselves by the name of their captain, introducing themselves by name and “of so-and-so’s crew.” Usually right before they start a tavern brawl.

Arcane flight is a mageocracy, and that goes about exactly as well as you’d expect in a region where pretty much everyone uses magic. Most of them are too busy trying to take the world apart to see what happens to listen to anyone trying to give them orders. However, unfortunately often, one of them starts gibbering in tongues and telling everyone about their magnificent plans to create a vast magical rift in the fabric of reality, which shall usher forth wonders and abominations into this plane such as you lowly wretches have never dreamt of, and everyone goes “yeah that sounds cool, let’s do it.” This also goes about as well as you’d expect.

Fire flight measures the worth of their clans in wealth. The oldest and most influential clans tend to be the ones whose territories contain large and rich mines. Whether they yield ore or gems, they will bring the family great wealth and prestige, provided they are cleverly managed. The mines are named after the families who own them, and to speak about one is to speak about the other, as their fortunes go in tandem. When a mine fails, the family who owns it often will too, unless they’ve managed their fortunes and lands wisely. Fire flight nobility are the envy of others, because they tend to be overwhelmingly more wealthy than any other flight, and able to show it off with dozens of elaborate pieces of jewelry, wrought from ores and gems from the mines on their territory. They often boast fine silks, adoring courtesans, and elaborately decorated lairs, that some would jealously dismiss as ostentatious.

The Beat Goes On
The Screamers
The Beat Goes On

Drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain!

History has turned a page.
Anarchy was the current rage.

Boys are chasing girls to get a kiss.
Little girls still break my heart.

Mini skirt’s the current thing, again.
Teeny bopper’s our new born king, Amen.

Pop stars sit in chairs and reminisce,
Kids today are right to make a fist!

Cars are moving faster, faster, faster, faster, faster!
Sounds are moving faster, faster, faster, faster, faster!

And the beat goes on,
And the beat goes on,
And the beat goes on,
And the beat goes

NCIS --New Born King episode
External image

When I saw the previews for this episode of NCIS, called “Newborn King”, I was fairly certain that it was just going to be one big Christmas cliché. While I wasn’t exactly wrong, I was surprised at how well they pulled it off. I should have known that the writers of this show wouldn’t let me down. Sure it had all the normal Christmas cliché’s

(actually let’s start calling them “references” – that sounds a lot better), but the way they put them in made all the difference. For instance some of the dialogue flat out quoted Christmas songs/movies, and the rest of the…erm references were done so tongue-in-cheek that I found myself laughing along (not flinching or groaning, as I’d expected).

Even THE Christmas reference, you know the one – a woman gives birth on Christmas Eve, not in a hospital and the baby is delivered by someone who is not a doctor – even that one turned out to be so much more than I expected. It pulled out an emotional response that hit me harder than I thought. Because you know how that whole bit was supposed to be sappy and so, so very cliché? Well all that went away the moment that Ziva started killing people while it was happening. A silly sitcom this is not.

Then there was the final scene. What can I say about that one that isn’t going to involve me getting emotional again? Probably nothing so I’m just going to go for it. This show once again pulled out an amazing ending between Tony and Gibbs. Each time they do it (whether it’s on Gibbs’ couch or in his basement) seems to get better than the last. Everything in this one – from Tony wondering to Gibbs if maybe he was ready for a family now, to Gibbs ordering him not to make his mistakes but learn from them – was absolutely perfect. Now who knew THAT would be the scene that would make me cry?

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Favorite Opening Scene: Lion King (1994)

Here comes a lion, Father.
Oh yes, its a lion.
We’re going to conquer,
A lion and a leopard come to this open place.

Dubbed as one of the best animated film of all time, Lion King opening sequence introduce us to the wonderful land of Africa, and the beginning of a story people would tell for generations to come. The opening chant - which is sing in real language of the Zulu people - comes in the background. The animals arise to the song, as if it awakens them from a long sleep. Then we see variations of animals, big and small, walking side by side to the Pride Rock. All united as one, ready to welcome the new born king into the world. 20 years has passed since the film’s release, and still the powerful opening scene leave us in awe every time we see it.