#Uncle Hawks

[wewerebornsextuplets]

i do my lil dancy dance

[moonlit-knightz]

this was genuinely the sweetest moment of the entire show!

hawk asking for permission to go out to fun uncle sensei chozen😭

[majesticcorn2000]

mr stick as uncle ian. think about it.

once you see it there is no going back

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

20 minutes of my life I'll never get back. 🤦‍♂️

I must be a glutton for punishment because I actually watched Kinsey Schofield's 20 min interview w/Valentine Low. May this rant save you from making the same mistake:

Valentine Low & Kinsey Schofield just reminded me that the British press is in desperate need of a grief recovery workshop to let go of their palace manufactured PR image of Sparry, "the CONSERVATIONIST," and accept the REALITY: Sparry has ALWAYS been a member of the lost boys who never intend to grow up. He loves drugs, perverted soho house sex play pens, and living a secret lifestyle in San Francisco, CA. As we saw in the South Park Documentary, Sparry has always wanted to be left alone so he can just bang on his drums all day.

The British media needs to accept that they never knew the Sparry aka Prince Harry. Much like Fergie & Andrew: The Meghans are two (2) intellectually below average individuals who married in haste. Both their academic & professional work histories indicate that these two (2) immature adults, lack even the basic skills necessary to function in society without the help of a PR "machine" whose job is to clean up their messes and repeatedly rebrand them into more acceptable members of polite society. It's past time for Valentine Low and other UK journalists to admit that they never really knew Sparry. All their Diana goodwill should now be invested into the future of the BRF (the family of Prince William)

No amount of hoping for the best or "covering up" for Sparry's misdeeds can transform the moral rot in his character. They bought and sold the PR image manufactured by the palace. It was the paparazzi & other "undesirables" who had the misfortune of observing the REAL Sparry. They watched him mistreat drivers, security, staffers, etc long BEFORE he was seduced by MEgain.

V Low believes Sparry flew a helicopter! 😳 Come on! Too many REAL service members have spoken out about Sparry's military character and performance and there's nothing good about it.

Sparry, like his wife is also a liar and a bully. He's not intellectually bright, he never was... He even bullied his grandparents before the "spectacle," he bullied Meghan's father...we heard reports about seeking a left wing wife and his interest in living in the US----all before MEgain.

Low also thinks Sparry loves his children. Has Valentine Low ever seen the invisibles? No. He's transferred a PR image to a couple of never before seen kids and their so called father. A so-called "father" who is willing to destroy his brother's children (and the innocent children of other couples) through the spread of destructive lies, has zero interest in the REAL wellbeing of anyone's kids, least of all his own.

As for the Wife: her ability to earn a college degree as an American teenager/young adult without even the offer of an ACADEMIC scholarship means that she too is mediocre and overrated. Her university commencement program states that she was a candidate for a degree in "communications" NOT some whip smart area of study like biochemistry or engineering! 🤦‍♂️

As a university student, thanks to her dad's brother (mike), she spent a measly six (6) weeks in Argentina on an exchange program (paid by her father) until she failed an exam that would have allowed her to apply for (real) jobs in the States. An intellectual or any hard worker would have studied until she passed the test. Not Rachel Meghan Markle. If no one was willing to make an exception for her low marks, then she would whore her way up a series of ladders until she found someone dumb enough to give her a platform.

No, this is NOT a "smart" couple. This couple is a cautionary tale about how Water seeks it's own level: Sparry's mother and teachers did him a disservice, just as MEgain's father did her a disservice: SPARE the rod & SPOIL the child

Kinsey believes that MEgain is "smart" because she achieved a Duchess title. (What does this tell us about Kinsey's IQ. 🤦‍♂️😳)

MEgain became a "Duchess" because she was a professional "seductress" employeed by Markus Anderson & Soho House. Everything this couple achieves is smoke & mirrors based on TRANSACTIONAL relationships where they bully & harass anyone standing in their way.

They don't even possess good work ethics, let alone above average IQs. Please call a spade a spade (or in this case a spare a spare) and stop gaslighting the public about what Sparry could have done had he not been involved with the wife.

We watched the wife verbally abuse KP staffers over bereavement flowers and feckless Sparry stood by in AGREEMENT. Wicked queen Jezebel 2.0 and traitorous king ahab 2.0. Let them go!

[rewrittenwrongs]

I need a fic where Dick finds out abt Bruce abusing Tim + him training with Lady Shiva and flips his shit, blowing up at Bruce and Alfred and ‘kidnapping’ Tim for a month or two to stay with him in Blüdhaven, and when Tim does go back to the Manor Dick does too specifically to keep an eye on Bruce and make sure Tim’s alright after every training session/patrol, and when Jack dies there’s a voice in his head screaming that Bruce is unfit to parent him and Dick should adopt him instead

[shivunin]

for the tarot card prompt: the world for Fenris/Maria!

Thank you my dear! Have some fluff c:

From the tarot prompts for "the world" (fulfilment, experience, completion)

No End

(998 Words | Hawke & Varric, Fenris/Hawke | No warnings)

“You happy, Hawke?” 

Hawke, roused from the scene before her, leaned back against the porch support and looked at Varric. 

“Do I not seem happy?”

“Nah,” he waved a hand. “Not an observation, just a question. It’s, ah—not the ending I might have written for you. That’s all.”

“No?” she smiled. “Let me guess the ending, then, hm?”

Varric chuckled and leaned back, mirroring her position. Hawke could hear the lilt of Merrill’s voice inside and the answering hum of Leander’s response. She’d been rather worried her son would harry poor Merrill with questions, but the two had taken to each other easily enough. She rather supposed nobody had ever found the bounds of Merrill’s knowledge when it came to magic, and if there was one thing Leander never stopped asking about, it was magic. 

“I know you too well to suppose you’d want a tragic ending, so I suppose I can set aside all notions of a valiant and heroic death fighting against impossible odds,” she began. 

Varric snorted. 

“As if I haven’t tried to talk you out of danger half the time you’re thinking about getting into it again.”

“As if you didn’t talk me into the other half to begin with,” she laughed in response, taking a sip of sweet, dark wine and remembering a crossbow bolt through the shirt of a thief, a stranger in an alley and the offer he’d made.

Her rose arbor bloomed in the far field before them. The heads of the blossoms bobbed every now and then when the wind blew through them, an unending dance of crimson and pale cream. The twins had gone through the lot of them last spring, fingers yellow with pollen, and the bevies of roses that’d followed had been striped red and white, pink with red tips, and any number of other bizarre combinations. When she’d realized what’d happened, Hawke had laughed so hard that she’d had no choice but to sit down or fall. 

“I’ll admit that much,” Varric allowed, but gestured for her to go on. 

“Well, then no ending full of intrigue and influence either. You wouldn’t wish that sort of thing on a friend.”

“Not the ones I actually like,” Varric agreed. 

“Hmm,” Hawke mused. “Let’s see, then. In your ending, I single-handedly solve all the problems of the world. After personally informing every fool of a noble and self-absorbed courtier of their very particular flaws and resolving all outstanding conflicts, I ride home to a hero’s welcome and take up a life of leisure in Kirkwall, where I am universally loved and adored. I am readily available for dinner on Tuesdays and perfectly willing to handle the day-to-day running of the city when my very dear friend gets too bored and slips the clutches of his advisor. Am I close?” 

Varric laughed, tipping his own glass until some of the beer inside sloshed into the dirt beneath the porch. Before them, Carver stood, one of the twins perched precariously on his shoulders. She couldn’t hear him from here, but she could see his smile even so. 

“Close enough,” her friend said, and they sat in silence for a time while the light grew golden on the fields behind her house. 

There came the sound of breaking glass inside, followed at once by Isabela’s laughter. Hawke smiled in response, leaning back on her hands. 

“It’s a beautiful sort of chaos, but what isn’t?” she told Varric. “If I were writing the story, that’s how it would end anyhow. Chaos, and me in the middle of it all.”

“Chaos,” he said, watching her hound race after Carver. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Come now, Varric,” she said, nudging him. “Don’t go easy on me. It’s always been chaos with me, you ought to say.”

Her old friend cast her a look, then stood creakingly and rolled his shoulders. 

“If you know already, I shouldn’t need to say it,” he told her. “There aren’t any real endings, anyway. Not in real life. Only breaks in the action, pauses for thought.”

“Bold words for an author,” she laughed.

“I suppose I’ll take that,” she told him. “Chaos, and no endings.”

Varric answered her, but he was turned away and opening the back door already. The words faded into the sunset and Hawke did not try to chase them. Footsteps sounded on the porch beside her and she knew exactly whose they were. Something worth waiting for, as they both knew very well. 

“The first is certain,” Fenris said from her left. Hawke turned to him, smiling, and he crouched to kiss her cheek. 

“But life would be ever so dull for you if I knew what I was doing,” she told him. 

“Mmm,” he said, noncommittal, and kissed her other cheek. “But you do know.”

“If you say so,” she said, and he caught her laughter between their lips. They kissed for only a moment, the rising noise inside the house indicating a pressing need for their attention, but it was sweet even so. It always was. 

Fenris rose first, hand brushing over her shoulder as he stood. 

“I’ll go,” he said, and followed Varric through the door without waiting for an answer. 

Maria watched him until he was gone, still smiling, but she did not rise at once to follow. Beyond the hill, the roses nodded in the early evening breeze and the bees hummed their way home for the night. In the yard, Hawke’s brother dashed across the yard with two of her children tucked laughing under his arms. Somewhere inside, her other friends and her beloved had gathered in the kitchen and likely waited for her now. She spoke to all them as much as she spoke to herself, hand wrapped around the wooden post beside her. 

“No end,” she said. The early evening did not answer, nor did anyone else. That was perfectly fine. She hadn’t expected them to.

“No end. I do like the idea of that.”

[vaguely-concerned]

I'm obsessed with purple hawke's relationship to god. that scene when you side with the mages and talk to bethany, and she's finally reached the certainty that she is as the maker made her and that it must be good, she must be good, because the maker is good. and her older sibling is just standing there hollow-eyed and haunted like 'oh. I was just thinking that god is not only indifferent to human life and suffering but actively, deliberately cruel and malicious and that all of creation is nothing more than a stage stained with an eternity of blood and grief where we act out our tragedies and tear each other apart for His entertainment. actually. but maybe you're right. who's to say'

[mash-lesbian-official]

Does that one Its A Wonderful Life au still exist? Not the ones I'm seeing on ao3, this was literally Hawk transplanted into George Baileys story with stuff changed around a bit. I think tumblr user gayfranzafka wrote it (I could of sworn that was their ao3 name too)

[manfred-volkarin]

never used to be the sort of person to give my ocs kids. used to even wrinkle my nose a bit at the possibility

and then somehow??? i got so attached to Rachel that now i'm envisioning post veilguard child(ren) for her and Lucanis?????????????

[vigilskeep]

Does Chevalier Hawke have anymore kids after Malcolm or maybe even from before??? God that be terrifying low-key.

Keir is in Kirkwall and BAM! Orlesian Auncle jumpscare. Andraste Wept.

i actually considered writing in something like this for mark of the assassin

merrill: aren’t you and keir supposed to be busy heist-ing?

tallis: well hawke walked off

anders: what? why?

tallis: his exact words were “my grandfather is here and i need to kill him for my family’s honour. it’ll be ten minutes”

i had some vague idea where the chevalier’s legitimate child (i.e. keir’s uncle... aunt... half-uncle or half-aunt??) would stand in for their father in some kind of duel keir demands. really a dozen ways that could turn out, i never decided on any of the personalities and i didn’t think this through at all

[giggly-squiggily]

I like to imagine Best Jeanist uses tickles to tame the wild children around him. Bakugou tense and yelling (which he attributes to stress/being overwhelmed?) Tickles. Hawks pushing too hard and refusing to tell the truth about it? Tickles. Since season 6 I think there should be a blonde boi family with Jeanist as dad.

{Headcanons to Dabbles: CLOSED!}

KJERKJEKJRJKEKJ Jeanist is slowly becoming my new favorite Pro-Hero to write about just behind Hawks! He's such a neat character akljrkjaejrk I decided to go with Bakugou for this dabble since we've had so much Hawks lately! I hope you like it :D

CW: Swearing

“FU-”

“Calm down.” Jeanist cut him off, voice steady in comparison to Bakugou’s angry shouts. “Take a breath.”

The explosive blonde glared daggers before turning on his heels, stomping a few paces as he willed himself to do just that. Anyone else would regard his behavior as disrespect or defiance, but Jeanist’s eyes were as sharp as his style- he could see the tremor in Bakugou’s hands as he fussed. He was stressed- really stressed. “Come- sit with me.”

“I don’t need to fucking sit! I need to blow something up! I need to-” Whatever was coming next Bakugou never got to finish before he was forcefully dragged over- Jeanist’s threads pulling him until he was sitting next to the man. “Stupid threads!”

“Apologies- they were as necessary as stretch in denim. If I release you, will you stay put?” Bakugou glared in stubborn silence before looking down at his feet, nodding once. The threads snapped off him instantly.

“Thank you for not running away. Now- why don’t we talk about what’s really going on.” Jeanist began, but Bakugou was already jumping to his feet, hands shaking again.

“There’s nothing to talk about! I don’t want to sit and bitch, I want to fucking MOVE-” This time it wasn’t threads that dragged him down, but Jeanist’s quick reflexes. When he came back to the mats, Bakugou didn’t have any time to bark out a complaint. “GEHAHAHA!”

“If you need to move, then move. I find this to be far more helpful than stomping about.” Jeanist hummed as he danced his fingers along the younger boy’s belly and sides, earning a variety of swears and shrieks from his student. “Don’t bother denying it- you need this. Now- do you want to tell me what’s gotten you so stressed lately?”

“Fuuhuuhuhuhuhuck! Nooohoohohoho wahahahahhahy- Haheahhahahahhaha stahahahap ihihiihihiihiht!” Bakugou cackled, feet tapping out a song against the mats when his highest ribs were pressed into, sending intense waves of ticklishness throughout his torso. “GEHAHHAHAHAHHAA SHHIIHIHIHIIHIT!”

“Such a mouth on you- but I suppose like distressed jeans, it has its charm to some. Very well- you don’t need to tell me, but I don’t plan on stopping until I’ve deemed you de-stressed.” Jeanist sounded flat as he spoke, but it was hard to miss the glint of warmth in his eyes as he watched the kid beneath him laugh so freely. “Now- shall we continue?”

[trafficlightchild]

OLLIE AND CONNOR!! LIAN AND CONNOR!!

[acourtofquestions]

Another Rowan the bird-boy post for ya😂:

Ever notice how often Aelin is compared to a cat?.. Whether it be by “saying words like a purr” or “moving with feline grace”… well that totally explains their Rowaelin dynamic; he is Tweety bird & she is a cat with a mouse (or I guess… bird… it still works!?!😂)

[tiffanypooh]

Even though my life and health is literally miserable right now 🥲, at least there’re still some small happy moments in life. I’m glad that I found these babies last weekend. One of the best things happened recently! 🥰🧡💜

[alliseearekingsandthieves]

Snippet of a concept I'm kicking around under the cut.

Atsuhiro hesitates, then folds back the blanket. Tucked snugly against his chest is a head of blond hair.

And Kurogiri sees red.

Atsuhiro is holding—like he's something precious, like he's something important, more important than any of what Kurogiri is trying to save—Keigo Takami, the turncoat hero Hawks.

"I will not leave him to become that, Kurogiri," Atsuhiro says, voice firm.

They stare at him and watch him mask a flinch. Their expression must be truly terrible to behold, for he doesn't even make a joke. He simply stands and waits for their judgment.

"He will not threaten them," Kurogiri says evenly. "He will not threaten their futures. Should he do so, he will have no future, Atsuhiro."

"Kurogiri." Atsuhiro's voice falters.

"I will kill him." They have to make him understand this. There will be no way around it, no laughing it off. "If he causes harm to my family—our family—again, I will kill him and you will be unable to stop me."

"I know." It's barely more than a whisper. "I can only offer my apologies for what he did then and my promise that I will bear the responsibility for what he will grow to do now."

[theredheaded-stuff]

Let them meet and be friends, cowards

There shouldn't be "this is the better anime child" there should be "who not actually responsible uncle would take care of them in a playdate?"