#grand hero babble

[areyoudreaminof]

Next Gen Headcanons:

Nyx:

-very into architecture, loves buildings. The Prythian equivalent of a lego kid. Builds Feyre a studio and builds Oriana a little dollhouse.

-He carves little wooden animals, like his grandfather. His mother and aunts aren’t sure what to make of it at first, but they grow to love it.

-Nyx wears goggles when he flies high. When he’s older (like 100) he gets really into the idea of an aerial corps for the Illyrians.

-He loves all his cousins but is closest to Cricket. They’re called the “Terror Twins” in the family. 

-Not much of a “ladies man” in the traditional sense, but the ladies love him because he’s easy going, respectful, and doesn’t play games.

-he’s an okay artist, if he put in more effort he’d be better. 

-he’s embarrassed by Rhys’s over the top fashion sense. 

-he’s a daemati, but hates going into people’s minds unless absolutely necessary. 

-very close to Az and Nesta. He trusts them both implicitly. And his first word after "Mama" was "Nena!" for Nesta, of course.

-his best friend is the Winter Court Heir. They have a secret handshake.

Cricket:

-Helion’s shadow. She breeds horses and Pegasi with her grandfather and they’re very, very close. She’s a very talented equestrian and trains the Day Court horses on her own. 

-Her real name, Mathilde, comes from the Lady of Autumn's sister. Lucien gave her the nickname Cricket, when she was a baby. She babbled at night.

-she’s a Spell Cleaver and she got all the Day Court powers. No Autumn powers to be seen

-When she grows up, she becomes THE Emissary for all the courts and the human lands since she’s so well connected. She really doesn’t want to be the heir. She's ruthless at negotiation, thanks to Eris's training.

-Cricket is Lucien with a better upbringing. Snarky af.

-Rhys is her favorite Night Court uncle, but also her mortal enemy in their prank war.

-Very close to her parents. While she got Lucien’s hair and eyes, she got a lot of Elain’s features. 

-Extremely close to Eris. She is given Autumn citizenship, title of Grand Duchess of Autumn and a smokehound. She calls her hound Trajan, her favorite Day Court hero.

Froggy:

-she is a prodigy and teaches herself to read at some young ass age. Very quiet and proper, but isn’t afraid to get dirty. She speaks Scythian fluently and teaches herself old High Fae. 

-Her real name, Cyra, is an ancient Day Court name. Helion picked it out. Froggy comes from Cricket, who thought her baby sister looked like a frog when she was born.

-she looks the most like Helion, and has “Day Court looks” with Elain's golden heir. Which is funny because she got the Autumn flame and is more or less considered Eris’ heir by himself and the Autumn court. 

-her smokehound is named Brigid, the first fae in Autumn to wield fire, whom she idolizes.  

-She is super close to Nesta and Feyre. She adores Cassian. 

- she’s very empathetic. I toyed a lot with her getting the Seer gift, but she instead has a very good intuition. 

-She always wears a bow in her hair. She thinks it looks sophisticated. She picked it up from her human cousins in Scythia.

Orianna

-very funny and mischievous and caring. Spoiled rotten by her parents and the House.

-The House LOVES HER. The House gives her the best room, and a kitten. It just showed up when she wanted it. It's a real kitten she calls Pudding.

--she loves music and singing. When she’s older (a few hundred years old) she does a research project for the library and compiles old oral folk tales and songs from the women in Illyria. 

-Nesta’s velcro child. Orianna is ride or die for her mother. She does love her Daddy though. 

--her wings are from her grandmother. 

-She and Froggy are the closest, but she hero worships Cricket and Nyx. 

-Orianna was also raised and watched a lot by Clotho and the other priestess in the library. She is named Research Assistant when she's little and she takes it VERY seriously. She loves Clotho the most.

-She is the official representative of the Library at the House to the Day Court.

-Gwyn and Emerie are her aunts. Full stop.

-she loves her Aunt Feyre and loves to paint with her. 

-when she feels angry and upset, Uncle Az takes her for “quiet time” where they color together. It helps her calm down. He teachers her how to sing and old Illyrian songs.

-Cassian calls her his princess.

-she will become the first Valkyrie Librarian

[minijenn]

Story Summary: After spending five years stuck in the World of the Ocean King, Link returns to the Great Sea, only to find it changed beyond recognition. His friends and family view him as a traitor, accusing him of causing chaos across the ocean. With his allies all turned against him and a curse threatening to take his life, he sets out to reconnect with the one person who may be able to clear his name: Tetra.

Meanwhile, something sinister is rising over the Great Sea--a shadow seeking to spill the hero's blood and revive its fallen master. And this time, Link may not be strong enough to stop it on his own.

Ships: Link/Tetra

Rating: T

Warnings: Angst, Trauma, Violence, Blood and Injury, Torture, Harm to Children, Psycological Trauma

Chapter Summary: A new voyage takes to the seas. It’s amazing how a sword slinged over one’s shoulder can make them feel safer, more secure… and somehow more scared than they’d ever be without one. The weight of that sword feels heavy as Link adjusts it and the shield Oshus had given him alongside it. His recovery had taken far longer than he would have liked it to, but as of today, the old man had finally deemed him healthy enough to venture out on his own. Or at least, with Ciela flying by his side as his new companion.  That’s about the only thing Link actually doesn’t mind about the daunting deal he’s been forced into. Ciela is lively, sweet and spirited, and Link would much rather have her joining him on this quest than someone like Oshus. He smiles as he listens to her babble on, flying just ahead to give him something of a “grand tour” of Mercay Island. 

Click the link to read more; all comments are appreciated!

[keiskake]

bird instincts (chapter nine - hawks)

takami keigo x quirkless f!reader (au chilhood friends // characters are aged up 21+)

warnings ~  swearing, petnames, hawks being aggressive + jealous, oral sex (f!receive and m!receive), fingering, cream pie, unprotected sex, degrading names, trauma flashbacks, spoilers about hawks’ backstory from the anime

wordcount ~ 4.742k

summary ~ you and takami keigo grew up together in a shitty hut with terrible parents. he disappeared one day when you were 6, but he never left your mind. the heavens entwine your destinies together, but it’s not a smooth journey you soon figure out.

a/n ~ i honestly didn’t plan for this chapter to be so long, but it was so good as a whole that i couldn’t split it up. i’ve decided to focus on the series a little more, rather than try and upload drabbles everyday! thank you for reading, reblogs + likes are always appreciated.

˗ˏˋ꒰  previous   ꒱˗ˏˋ꒰  next   ꒱

"that's real original hawks." you walked towards the handsome blond in a black suit and tie. it caught your attention, his crimson red earrings. you didn't know hawks had his ears pierced. fuck. it made him so attractive. hell, he was attractive full stop. the way his eyes were glued onto you, as if he had blurred everything else around him. tunnel vision. and the way his hand slipped to your waist, pulling you in so he could lower his lips onto your forehead. it made your legs quiver and your heart pulsate even faster than before.

"i'll come up with a better one that's up to your standard next time baby bird. but have i ever told you how beautiful you, and how lucky i am that this is all mine?" his thumb brushed against your cheek, sweeping away the hair that was covering it to lay down a quick peck. you couldn't hide it, your cheeks burned pink as he cooed complements in your ear.

"well...you're looking really handsome tonight, but you're always handsome! so i'm lucky too!" was that the best compliment you could think about? really? babbling a response in a panic.

"oh? you're spoiling me with such kind words tonight y/n, and so many of them." he smirked at your embarrassed and rosy face. his fingers trailed its way from your waist, to your hip, and into your soft hands. "lets go inside, gonna introduce you to my best friend, endeavour. and hey. don't be nervous, you look gorgeous."

you nodded, taking hold of his hand before making your way to the event hall. the path was outlined by a carpet that was almost the same colour as your dress, and bordering the carpet were golden posts that acted as a barrier between the heroes and the media. it was all so grand. cameras and lights flashing, hero names being hollered and an endless wave of cheer around you.

is this how heroes made people feel? excitement, joy, vigour. no wonder kei admired them so much.

as you reached the door to the event hall, hawks pulled his hand away and positioned it so that his hand was on his chest and a gap formed between his arm. you put your arm through his, pressing your chest against his upper arm. an exchange of smiles went between the two of you and before you walked into the hall arm in arm. it was time for the event of the year to begin.

the moment you stepped into the room you were completely drowned in the awe of memorization. your jaw fucking dropped to the floor. the hall wasn't only big, it was gigantic, enormous even. lights beamed across the entire room, not a single dark spot to seen. thousands of tables with a million different dishes and drinks were scattered as far as you could see. and right at the front a stage, where hawks would be later tonight.

"woah." it was the only thing that could escape your lips. it was so amazing and majestic, like straight out of a movie.

"guess it's not everyday you get to experience something like this, i must say they really went all out. spared no expenses." he watched your face as it illuminated with shock and elation. your face was priceless.

"this is so incredible hawks. can we eat the food? oh! and i wanna try a drink. can we? can we really?" you tugged at his blazer, shaking the poor bird side to side.

"you can eat and drink the stuff on the table sweetheart. i'll come with you so that your nerves calm down, alright?" he giggled at your eagerness, petting the back of your head to hopefully calm you down and stop you from shaking him anymore.

"then what are we waiting for? i'm dying to try those giant chocolate covered strawberries." you beamed at him and then dragged him half way across the event hall to satisfy your sweet tooth.

not only were the strawberries in season but they were big and juicy, covered in a thick creamy chocolate shell. and they were never-ending. hawks watched as your face turned into an everlasting ray of smiles, and with each strawberry it grew. he kept close to you so that you had someone to talk to and, most importantly, to keep you safe. god were you beautiful. what he would do to see you this happy all the time.

approaching you was a big, bulky man. his shoulders broad and his face stern. you knew you had seen his face before, it was all too familiar. endeavour. he had the same face as the plushie in your bed. his hair was ruby red and his eyes turquoise blue. a plushie perfect match. he stood in front of you and hawks, his shoulders broad enough the cover the both of you. his eyes glanced past the bird man, fixing his gaze straight onto you.

"woah there buddy, if you stare at her too much she's gonna break down." he jokes, placing his hand on your lower back to ease your nerves. who wouldn't be nervous if a big rock of man started staring at you.

"good evening. who's the girl, hawks?" his arms stood straight by his side, his face stiff. you couldn't tell how he was feeling or what he was thinking, and that was the scariest thing about him.

"my girlfriend, you jealous endeavour?" hawks displayed a grin on his face, pulling you closer to him in order to 'show you off' some more.

"no. though i didn't picture you the type to settle down." he peered over at you once more, scanning you from head to toe. he might as well have been a metal detector.

"i'm y/n, it's nice to meet you. you're the number one hero endeavour, it's a real pleasure to meet you. i'm kinda a fan, well no my friend is the fan, but i still think you're really cool!"

"you're a fan of me too, right baby bird?" he pouted and squirmed as you spouted a bunch of rubbish to fill the awkward space endeavour had created.

"well, thank you for being a fan despite all the punches being thrown at my name currently. she'll keep you in check hawks, don't cause her trouble." he eyed hawks, the kind that your parents gave you when you were about to do something stupid.

"right, right, of course endeavour. why'd you come over? did you miss your buddy?" he nudges the flame hero, poking and prodding at him for a response.

"no i did not miss you, and you are not my 'buddy'. i came to collect you, it's time to go up there." the stoic man pushed hawks' arm away and turned his back on the two of you. he made his way through the crowds of people and tables before disappearing behind a curtained staircase.

"one day he'll admit that we're buddies." he chuckled, straightening his suit and tightening his tie. "but for now, i gotta fly y/n. i'll see you on stage." he cupped one of your cheeks and took you in for a kiss.

"you won't be able to see me silly, there's too many people here tonight."

"trust me y/n i could spot your drop dead gorgeous face a thousand miles away. wish me luck!" he rushed off to the curtained staircase, his wings fluttering slightly as he made his way to the grand stage.

in your heart you were wishing him luck, though really and truly he didn't need it. he'd be fine just the way he was. you couldn't stop thinking about the way his blazer clenched round his waist and the way his white button up shirt displayed the outline of his collar bone. and whatever bottle of cologne he was wearing tonight you were determined to buy a bottle for yourself. it drew you in like a bone to a dog.

you took hold of another strawberry before the lights shut down. excited murmurs spread from every corner of the hall and everyone laid eyes on the main stage. with a little squinting you could make out 10 silhouette figures were standing on the platform. hawks must been amongst the 10. you didn't want to miss a second, and clearly the media didn't want to either with their cameras and notepads out and ready.

head beam lights from below flashed, giving a better view to the 10 shapes. a flicker from the bulbs on the ceiling went off and the whole room was lit with an endless stream of radiant light. claps echoed from every corner of the room, chanting of the hero's names penetrated the air and glasses clinking together in unison. there stood heroes. the top 10 heroes.

amongst the line of heroes were names such as mirko the rabbit hero and wash the laundry hero. amongst the handful of talent japan had to offer was your beloved number two, hawks. he stood proudly with his chest out and wings perked up high behind him. he was facing your direction, even whilst he collected his award and gave his speech his eyes were on you. he really was like a hawk.

but what was he so fixated on? you. and the man next to you who was barely millimetres away from touching your shoulder with his. black long hair tied up in a bun, baggy eyes and a sharp jawline. eraser head. he'd really dressed for the occasion, and that worried hawks. as he spoke to you, laughter left your sweet and pretty lips. but your laugh was his to hear and only his. the thought of another man who could make you as happy as he did irked him deeply.

what lit the fuse to the bomb was when eraser head pulled you in by the waist to move you away from the waiter, that was about to trip and drop a hundred drinks in your direction. you apologised and gave eraser head a big dumb smile, the same kind you gave him during your date. he didn't know that he would feel so enraged witnessing another person touch you, talk to you or laugh with you. what was he so jealous of?

the presenter on stage dismissed the heroes to the event, taking back their awards so that they could be delivered to their hotel room directly. he didn't want to watch another second of it, jumping off the stage with his hands tucked into his pockets. he swerved his way through the mob of people, grumbling to himself and swearing under his breath.

you could smell the faintest scent of his cologne so you turned around, only to face a less than pleasant hawks. his brows were furrowed and his lips were straight, one fist clenched by his side and the other one still in his pocket. you felt your heart in your throat. did you do something wrong? was he angry? you looked to eraser head for some kind of reassurance or confirmation. boy did you set fire to dynamite.

"y/n we're going, now." he took hold of your arm, almost grabbing it.

"b-but why, the real event just started?" you flinched a little, shocked that hawks would behave so aggressively towards you. what the hell had gotten into him.

"we're going and that's final." he started dragging you to the nearest exit, not giving you enough time to pick up your dress so that it wouldn't drag across the floor too much.

"sorry eraser head! it was nice to ━" hawks tugged you closer to him, cutting you midway through your goodbye.

his grip on your arm was so tight you were certain that it would leave some kind of mark or bruise. you wanted him to slow down, you really wanted a break from all the speed walking, but you couldn't speak up. it was physically impossible for you. every time you planned to say something your throat would go hoarse and chicken out on you. no words would leave your mouth.

you were afraid of him in that moment, it reminded you of when your father had beaten you and kei for sneaking out to play one afternoon. you and kei wanted to cry out for help, cry out to express your pain. but no matter how hard you tried nothing came out, it always ended up in silence. you didn't want to put hawks in the same category as that disgusting and treacherous thing you called a 'father'.

hawks took you all the way to his hotel room, which was a penthouse suite with the best view in all of Kamino Yokohama. he tapped his key card on the reader before shoving the door out of the way and throwing you inside of the room. the door closed behind him, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top of his formal shirt. he made his way to you and your body trembled more and more the closer he got.

"what the hell was that all about hawks?! dragging me out of there with no explanation, i didn't even get to say goodbye to eraser head properly. and then you grab me and take me all the way here, look my arm has a red mark because of you!"

he looked at your arm and seemed to take a step back. you let it all out, all the words that were clogged up from before. you weren't going to stay silent this time, not anymore. what he did was wrong but hawks himself hadn't realised until you started shouting and bursting out on him.

"yeah what i did wasn’t exactly excusable and i'm sorry. but why is saying goodbye to eraser head so fucking important to you?"

"hawks are you hearing yourself?"

"why are you so caught up on him?! just focus on me, that's all that you need. or is it not enough?" he took your hand and placed it on his chest. his heart was pounding to fast and hard that you could feel it through his blazer.

jealousy. the room was plagued with his jealousy. was he afraid of losing you? maybe he was afraid of losing his place in your heart? you never thought hawks was the type to get jealous, sure it was human nature, but he was so confident in himself. on the surface that was.

his body was unsteady from the pent up anger he had hoarded whilst on stage. you knew what he was doing was out of order but somewhere in your heart you understood where he was coming from. the constant fear of the what if. what if you lose the one you hold dearest to your heart? what if you’re so easily replaceable you could be tossed to the side?

tears trickled down his cheek slowly and it infectious, water droplets forming in your eyes as well. it hurt to see him like this. you just wanted him to be his chirpy and cocky self again, you took that side of him for granted. but it was your job as his girlfriend to guide him through his moments of despair. no, not even a job. the bare minimum.

you moved your hand from his beating heart to his face, cupping it gently and lifting his head up to face you. two teary eyed lovers facing the abyss together. you pressed your forehead onto his and let out a little sigh. your big bird was still a baby at heart, and you were going to protect his precious heart.

"i will always need you hawks, there's nobody that could replace you. so please, don't let your fear get the better of you. it's okay to feel angry and jealous, it's human nature, but never forget that i care about you the most. i'm not going anywhere and you're not going to be replaced. you’re enough."

"y/n...i'm sorry, i was just so scared. i hated watching you and eraser head talk, and then when he touched you and you smiled at ━" you cut him off with a deep kiss. that's what he needed in that moment, a piece, a crumble of physical affirmation that you were his.

he was shocked, you never initiated the first move. it was different, like turning the page to a new chapter in your relationship and he wasn't complaining one bit. his hands drew itself to your waist, pushing you deeper into his lips. home. it felt like home to him. he didn't need all the fame or money that he had, hell he didn't even need to be a hero let alone number two. you were enough for him.

"i love you y/n, i'm so sorry for hurting you like that." his lips left yours and his head hung back down again. he took hold of your arm once again, but this time his touch was much more tender. "look at what i've done. i'm a monster. i don't fucking deserve you."

"i forgive you, bird brain. so don't grovelling about it, it's not very hero like y'know." your fingers ran through his golden locks and you laid your head on top of his.

"fuck hero life, i don't need it. why would i? i have you sweetheart and that's more than a bastard like me could ask for." you positioned yourself on his lap, throwing your arms around his neck.

"if you let out another negative comment i will never ever compliment you again, got it?"

"yes ma'am. sorry ma'am."he jumps and turns to look you in the eyes. you were deadly serious.

"i'm glad we're on the same page. i didn't get a chance to say it but congratulations on your award hawks!"

"thanks baby bird, first time anyone has really congratulated me with any sincerity at all." he played with your skirt and his free hand laid on top of your thigh.

"it won't be the last if i'm around! sorry about not having a gift, you got me the dress and a ride but i don't have a thing for you."

"looking at you in this gorgeous dress is more than enough, you have no idea what it does to me y/n."

you felt it. you felt your thigh rubbing against something hard that poked at your soft skin. you knew what it was, and the thought of it made you embarrassed. it wasn't as if you were innocent at all, absolutely not. you had your fair share of lewd thoughts about hawks. it couldn't be helped sometimes, when his pants were just a tad bit too tight you good get a clue or two about the outline of his cock. and you'd be a liar if you said you had never imagined him rubbing his length against your slit.

he looked at your face that was all red, only realising then what was making you behaving sheepishly. "shit y/n, sorry i didn't mean to really."

"it's okay...it's natural. your dick is really hard huh?" you bit your lower lip and unconsciously rubbing your thigh against him.

he picked you up from his lap and sat you on the bed properly, leaning in for a kiss. it was wet and messy, your tongues running around one another. his hand held you by the neck, pressing you deeper and deeper into his lips. your hand was over his clothed cock, teasing it as he pressed a finger against your cunt. "wet already?"

"nghh ━ don't wanna wait anymore, please fuck me daddy." and that's all you needed to do for hawks to make your fantasies a reality.

you turned to the side so that hawks could unzip your dress. it slipped right off you and he left it hanging over a chair. he couldn't take his eyes off your body, you weren't wearing a bra so your breasts were openly on display for him. your skin looked to delicate and soft, thighs and ass plush. perfect in everyway. he kissed his way down your figure. head, neck, chest, stomach, thigh. the slow pace was leaving you on the edge, your red thong soaked in your juices and drip.

your only bit of clothing was ripped off you, hawks' cooing in your ear "i'll buy you a new one princess." his fingers played with your wet fold, a thumb circling against your swollen clit and the two tips of his fingers teasing your hole. you bucked your hips urging hawks to finger you. a grin appeared on his face, "can’t wait? what a slut". the sound of your wet pussy being filled with two of his fingers echo the room. he curves his finger as he pushes in and out of you, reaching your g-spot. and every time he hit the deepest part you'd arch your back, mewling in pleasure and shamelessly moaning out his name. "ahh ━ hawks more, please! wanna cum please hawks!" fuck did your sweet voice make his dick twitch. he fingered you faster. too much for you to handle clearly, grabbing a hold of the bed sheets and letting out even more breathless cries of pleasure. his tongue lapped your cunt and his fingers kept spreading your walls apart, loosening you up for his cock. too much, it was too much for you. your mind was blank from all the enjoyment and the only thing you could think about was hawks playing with your whore of a cunt. he sucked on your clit, making sure to get a real good fucking taste of ‘his’ pussy. you whimpered, arching your back and cumming all over his fingers. hawks pulled his fingers out, spreading them apart to show you the long line of drip and how wet they were. he put his two digits in your mouth for you to taste before running his tongue from the bottom of your slit to the top. "god. you taste fuckin' sweet as candy baby bird."

your legs were trembling, they were weak. you had never had such an intense orgasm, nor did you have a clue that it could feel that good. "my turn." you took hold of hawks' hand, laying him against the headboard of the bed. you positioned yourself between his legs, his cock desperate to get out of his pants. he unbuttoned his blazer and shirt, and you unzipped his pants. your bare skin rubbing against one another made your heart race, a blush running across your cheeks. "take it slow sweetheart, no rush." you nod, taking his boxers off to reveal his red, bulge tip. he was bigger than you had ever imagined, your hand barely able to wrap around the base. you took a breath before pushing the head of his cock into your mouth, enfolding the tip in your wet tongue. hawks groaned and his hips jolted from the sensation your mouth was giving him, watching his pretty girl suck him off made him throb even more. as you moved your mouth up and down his length, you could feel it hit the very back of your throat. it was just so big it started to make you choke, and that was music to his ears. "gonna push it down so you take it all the way, pinch me if you need me to stop." groaning, he took a handful of your hair and shoved the rest of his cock into your mouth. your moans were muffled from the fullness of your mouth, tears running down your face, and your mouth became more and more sloppy and took hawks in. he tugged you off his twitching dick, his face flustered. "y/n lay down on the pillow, gonna put it in okay?"

he flipped you over so that you were the one laying down on the pillow. your legs were spread apart, levered on his broad shoulders. "wanna feel you inside daddy, pretty please." your needy pleas gave him the green light to pound you and drill the shape of his cock into your pussy. he lined it up with your entrance, slapping it on your cunt a few time. he prepped you so well that his entire cock was able to slip in easily. your wet walls wrapped around him tightly, almost milking him. he slammed his hips into you and you could feel his tip kissing your cervix, and he kept hammering your insides. your drenched pussy squelched at every thrust he rewarded your pretty little cunt. you were completely full from him, his dick fucking you dumb and senseless. he was turning you into his personal cock sleeve. you let him infiltrate your every senses, the only thing you could think about was him. "c-cum in me please daddy, give me every drop please!" your arms swung around his neck, trying to keep yourself upright since your legs were becoming weaker as he continued to shove himself into you. "my princess is so well mannered. of course i'll breed you pretty girl." his hand pulled your thigh in so he could reach even deeper, thrusting his cock as his thumb grazed against your cunt. he was giving you the fucking of a lifetime, pussy full and cunt overstimulated. "shit- gonna cum inside of you y/n. gonna fill you up so good."you could feel yourself reaching the limit, moaning, whimpering, digging your nails into hawks's back. his cock pouring every ounce of cum he could muster into your needy cunt. panting, he pulled out and watched the mix of his cum and yours slowly ooze out of you pussy. your insides were painted white.

"did so well sweetheart." hawks fell into your arms, resting his head on your chest.

"you too baby." you pressed a kissed on his head and ruffled his already messed up hair.

"is this the same y/n i know give ME a pet name? i could die happy." he looked at you with eager eyes waiting for an answer, with an underlying feeling of shock.

"well...we're in a relationship so i should start using pet names more often!" you didn't think it that big of a deal but to hawks it was like the world had just granted his every wish, his heart pounding next to yours.

"lets clean up and get some sleep, 'kay? i'll apologise to erase head tomorrow." he got up and headed to the bathroom.

you nodded and followed behind hawks, getting into the shower with him. you took turns washing each others hair and backs, hawks occasionally planting bubbles on your nose. the domestic moments you were having, like drying his hair and vice versa, made you feel like you were on cloud nine. butterflies erupted at the thought of you and hawks behaving like husband and wife.

the hotel had provided you and hawks with a pair of black silk pyjamas. they were so smooth to touchy and easy on the skin. the little pocket on your chest even had your name on it, hawks had the same but just with his name. well hero name. but the clothes were perfect fit. but how did they know you would be staying?

"hawks, why do i have a pair of pyjamas? i mean i'm not a hero nor was i a direct guest." he laid on the bed and you sat beside him, his hand petting your thigh.

"i asked them to get you a pair, pretty cool right."

"okay- but how did you know i would be staying, heck i didn't even know i was gonna stay the night." you poked his chest, your lips pouting.

"bird instinct." you started laughing, how unserious could he be. but it was nice, a change of mood.

"scoot over bird brains!"

he shuffled to the right side to make a little nest for you to lay on. hawks arm stretched out across the pillow, his hand prodding you to come over. you plopped your head on his arm and your face nuzzled in his chest. the light switched off, the blanket wrapped round you and so did hawks. you didn't need city lights to call something home anymore. it was right Infront of you, practically thrown over your entire being.

"goodnight y/n, sweet dreams." he lifted your chin, placing a gentle kiss on your lips, and then your nose, and finally your head.

"goodnight hawks. thank you for being my home.”

[smytherines]

can you sing?????? sorry this is really out of pocket and i mightve hallucinated this but i swear to god u said u did a drama program that did a musical every year and now i need to know if you're a triple threat (writer artist and singer)

I don't sing as well as I used to, I'm badly out of practice for anything other than karaoke, but yes I can sing!

I did a community theatre program in my area from ages 8 to 18, and it saved my life. It was split into a company for kids, and one for teens. So until 13 I did two shows and (sometimes) one musical per year, and then from 13 on we would do two shows per year, one musical, and then we would work tech for the two kids company shows. We also had two semesters of acting classes, one in the fall and one in the spring.

So I've done pretty much everything but spotlight (you could not pay me enough, spot operators are heroes). I've been a stage manager, prop master, I particularly loved doing sound because they let us make our own preshow mixes and I'd put way too much effort into mine. We were just a little community theatre, so we didn't do big name expensive license shows, but I played the Tin Man in Oz! And had to sing an incredibly weird song that starts with the line come on and lubricate my mouth (I swear to god I am not making that up). Actually kind of a banger though, and I got to sing at the low end of my range for once.

We had a professional vocal coach at the theatre program, but also my mother took vocal lessons for years and was a singer in a local band for about a decade, so I had a lot of help developing my voice early on. When I auditioned for the school choir the director told me he could really put me anywhere and I'd do well, but he only had 8 altos so that's where I went.

My biggest non-musical role was playing Jo March in Little Women, where I was onstage for 120 pages out of a 126 page script. I am very much a Jo March, like to the point where everyone just took it as a given I would get the role before auditions even happened, even though I was not usually cast as the heroine. I almost always got cast as a villain or the most over the top energetic characters, like I played Ms. Minchin in A Little Princess, most of the eccentric bit parts in The Man Who Came to Dinner (Banjo, Grand Duchess Olga Katrina, more I can't remember)

Sorry I'm babbling so much!! I don't get to talk about my theatre days very often, so I get excited! But that's why I love analysizing character and acting choices so much. I used to fill notebooks with lore about the characters I played. There's just something very interesting to me about using all these little... data points (?) to build a person. Like- if I was experiencing this emotion, how would my eyebrow move? What would my lips be doing, what would my hands be doing, how would that emotion affect my voice and body language. It's something I do all the time as an autistic person anyways, so acting almost felt like research to me.

Okay I'll shut up now, sorry I did an essay!!

[dairy-farmer]

Hal and Tim content 🙏. Hal awkwardly dad-ing Robin Tim when Bruce would be a little too cold.

Robin!Tim: is this the ideal dad shaped man I want

Hal: look at this funky lil dude, he has trauma. why did he pick me!?!??

hal, like literally every hero, has daddy issues and usually that doesn't interfere with his life but at the sight of the small and scrawny robin getting chillingly ordered to wait in the other room while batman does whateverthefuck well...he's got a soft spot.

plus the kid is...small. and skittish. a total contrast to how he is in the field, making every move with calculated efficiency and weighted determination. from what hal knows the little third robin is a good kid. eats his vegetables, follows curfew- that sort of thing. not the kind of trouble maker hal had been. but he sees this sad little kid with bug eyes and shifty feet and....

so hal hangs with the kid a few hours. gets a couple snacks, a few sodas and kicks back with the kid. gives him a grand tour and makes a huge show of even the most mundane thing until he gets a sweet little smile and a giggle for his troubles.

hal is surprised by how much he enjoys himself, listening to the kid babble about comic books and other things hal would've noogied one of his friends for liking in highschool. he's...awfully tiny. hal can't help but think that and wonder what batman even feeds the kid.

hal asks and then gets a long-winded tale about nutrition and about how batman doesn't let him eat junk or any processed foods. the kid's talking about the mineral content in water and whole grain when hal's breaking heart just can't take it anymore-

"ya like burgers kid?"

and so several hours later hal and the kid are getting a pretty harsh dressing down from batman who ended his meeting and couldn't find his robin until he checked the teleporter logs and tracked hal and his kid down to a grease spoon diner. the kids head in hanging down. his fingers are coated in salt and oil there's empty fry cartons around them alongside discarded burger wrappers. hal is sipping on his soda and holding a grounding hand on the kid's shoulder because are they seriously getting scolded for getting a bite to eat? has batman SEEN his kid lately?

man if hal didn't like the guy before he definitly didn't now.

at first it'd been an act of rebellion, just him using his free day to entertain a poor abandoned kid. but now hal was just too aware of this small scrawny kid with too big eyes.

hal greets the kid when he sees him, totally ignoring batman looming behind them.

he starts carrying around cookies and granola, little snacks the ring lets him pack away so he can offer the kid a little something something.

it's just to be nice.

until he lands robin in the infirmary for giving him peanuts. something the kid is allergic to.

"kid! why did you eat it?" hal is scratching his head and scared out of his wits as he holds an oxygen mask to that little face. big bambi eyes blinked at him.

"because you gave them to me."

well shit. fuck. fuck. fuck okay alright okay. that was the saddest shit he'd ever heard.

hal doesn't know shit about being an adult but if he's going to be spending time around the kid he's going to have to...get better at some shit. so he gets the basics down first.

he gets the kid's birthday and sets a reminder in his phone. he buys a calender. an actual physical one and circles the date in red pen.

he learns the kid's allergies. asks what his favorite and least favorite foods are. hal makes sure he buys only those things.

he learns about stuff he likes and makes sure the watchtower waiting room has puzzles and playing cards and something called 'wizards and warlocks'.

hal gets comfortable. he starts calling robin by his name whenever he spots him around.

tim. short and cute name for a short and cute kid.

the kid gets more comfortable around hal. opening up and lamenting about the woes of highschool and being a teen vigilante and boy was hal glad to not have been a lantrn and been going through puberty at the same time.

hal likes the kid, grows fond of him.

he's nice company especially when watch tower duty is slow and mind numbingly boring.

during the worst of it hal lists off the constellations he can see from the windows. he needs to keep himself sharp because he promised he'd help tim with learning them. yet another one of batman's impossible standards in his ever growing list of tasks and random skills to have.

it's during one of those instances that he gets his first phone call from the kid.

pretty soon after that hal gets some nice company. nodding, humming, and murming along as the kid describes his day. it's surprsingly...average. yet hal is surprised with how avidly he listens.

until one day there's a strange hitch in the kids breath. it takes a while to get out of him but when he learns hal has to stop himself from flying down and hunting down a few snot nosed punks who thought it'd be funny to pin down a kid half their weight and "joke" about making him suck them all off because they heard he liked boys.

oh hal knows that level of douchery anywhere. hal had never had to deal with that as a kid because he'd been tall and broad and hot shit.

but tim...was small even for a robin.

kids like tim were easy pickings.

so hal gives some (probably bad) advice.

tim gets suspended but he's so happy over the phone hal's grin doesn't die down for the rest of the day.

maybe hal's a denser guy than he thought

because he doesn't figure out why tim starts looking at him with a sparkle in his eye and an awestruck look when ever he sees him. at first he thought the kid viewed him as a sort of cool older brother?

maybe that's what the hugs were for. because Hal was just an all in all swell guy.

the kid asks hal weird questions like his favorite star trek character, his body mass index, whether he knows how to throw a football and if he'd teach tim.

when hal returns from space he finds a handmade -welcome back!- card and a goody bag.

tim asks hal to teach him how to pilot the Justice League fighter jets and hal nearly sheds a tear.

he doesn't notice when other heroes shift from saying 'hey robin is here for you' to 'hey your kid is in the mess hall'

hal gets the kid involved in some hare brained schemes.

the two of them are curled in pain when hal stupidly challenges barry to a hot dog eating contest and drags the kid into it.

its not all bad though.

tim saves his butt when hal accidentally deletes some very important files and he's left sweating and pacing while tim retrieves them.

'shit I majorly owe you one!'

hal does mean it but he's surprised the kid cashes it in so quickly. and for something so simple.

hal has a great time at the ball park with the kid watching the knights get their asses whopped. no wonder tickets had been so cheap.

maybe hal is a blockhead but it takes him finding the father's day card and flowers at his station while other leaguers are whispering and giggling to realize that he's adopted a child.

batman's station has a similar set up but the card is store bought and the flowers aren't as vibrant.

he's also glaring a hole into his monitor.

meanwhile hal is staring dumbly at the set up and wondering what the hell about him the kid thinks is "dad matierial".

[rubykgrant]

(trying to get back into writing my RVB character Interviews... so I'll share the first bit with Sarge again~)

"It is difficult to know where to begin when trying to describe the collection of unlikely heroes known as the Reds and the Blues. However, if given the chance, one member of the group would point out that Red comes first in the title, therefore the place to begin with would be the Reds. This same individual would also insist that when talking about the Reds, the leader should naturally go first. That is, himself. Sarge. It is both his name and reputation, though arguably not his actual rank.

Sarge has been a military man for most of his life, but he was fighting in a war that wasn’t real, leading a team only meant to provide simulation training for other soldiers, who themselves were lied to about the purpose of their missions. That is only the peak of this proverbial iceberg, but through it all, he has certainly lived up to his title. Anybody who has known him for an extended period of time, or even just talked to him for about 20 minutes, could confirm that back in Blood Gulch, Sarge was the only one who took the fight between Red and Blue seriously. It was his purpose, and set the pattern of his behavior during the years that followed.

In his quest for victory, he often overlooks the flaws in his own plans, be they over-complicated or incredibly straight-forward. Sarge tends to live by his own rules and follow his own logic, believing himself to always be right, regardless of any evidence to the contrary. Sarge has also pushed the limits of what can be done with limited resources, from weapons to robotics. Sarge doesn’t let things like mechanical capability or the laws of physics stop his grand aspirations. Despite being a natural instigator who thrives on conflict, Sarge has also proven to be surprisingly adaptive when it comes to working with others for a common goal, even if they were previously considered an enemy."

Sarge’s most impressive qualities as a leader are found in his rare, yet significant, moments of compassion. Although he isn’t always willing to give compliments, he notices the positive traits in others, even when it isn’t clear to themselves. In particular, he has seen the worth of his fellow Reds, and the Blues, at a personal level. More than just appreciating their value as soldiers, he knows their habits and quirks, and has managed to motivate them in the face of dire situations. He trusts them, even if they were insubordinate underlings, even if they were renegade Freelancers out for blood, even if they betrayed him and stole his robot, even if they were the Blues he swore to hate until he died. He trusts them, and he believes in them. This is perhaps what makes Sarge a good example of what to expect from the Reds and Blues- they are unpredictable, and Sarge is proud to be part of that.”

***

He was already in his chair, more than eager to share his thoughts and what was certain to be a “colorful history” regarding himself.

Andrews rolled her eyes, but also smiled; considering Sarge’s reputation, it would be more concerning if he was acting “timid”.

“I see you’ve decided not to wait,” she commented, taking her own seat.

“A-course! Save the BEST for FIRST!” he answered proudly. “Besides, listening to everybody else babble for too long might put ‘ya to sleep, and we can’t have that. They’re so easily distracted. Going off on tangents of unrelated topics and what-not,”

“Well, I’m not sure where you want to start-”

“I WAS BORN 29 YEARS AGO! I’VE BEEN THE PROUD LEADER OF RED TEAM FOR 20 YEARS! I CAME INTO THIS WORLD WEARING RED ARMOR, AND I’LL GO OUT OF THIS WORLD WEARING RED ARMOR!”

“Now, now…” Andrews said, her voice both amused and patient. “I won’t be exposing any secrets you want to keep, you’ll have the final word on what information I share publicly, but between the two of us? Let’s try to keep things simple, and honest. After all, we ARE on a first-name basis!”

The old soldier was quiet for a moment. A short moment, but for Sarge, being quiet was about as rare as hen’s teeth.

“Fair enough, Dylan…” he answered at last. “But the name is one of the things we keep quiet about, understand?”

“Absolutely… can I ask one question, though? Just for my own curiosity,” her curiosity often got the best of her, and certainly created problems occasionally… but that was why she was a reporter. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but satisfaction is what kept bringing her back.

“Hmph. Fine. Shoot,”

“I’ve never heard a name like yours before. Just what was the inspiration when it was chosen for you?”

Another quiet moment. Andrews was beginning to think he was simply going to ignore the question, and if that was the case, she would move on rather than press the subject. However-

“When I was born, which was MORE than 29 years ago, I ADMIT IT… m’family didn’t name me right away. Not too many infants survived their first few weeks at the time… it was a different world back then, see- you’re too young, you never lived in a war-zone, but that’s what it was like. So, they waited to see if… well, you know how you’re not supposed to name anything, or else you’ll get attached? ‘Folks were worried about getting attached to ME, because maybe I wasn’t even gonna live too long… but a few weeks went by, then a couple months, and I was still breathin’!” he chuckled a bit to himself before continuing.

“I guess I was the only baby that made it, and the group of survivors my family stayed with- they all supported each other. A whole bunch of people took turns watching over this little bundle of joy! Everybody had a different name they liked to call me, and when it was time to give me a REAL name… it all got combined together. One big name, from more than a dozen different people, who all came from different places, and spoke different languages… I was the only baby any of them had, so I suppose they gave me all the names of… their own kids who couldn’t be with them…”

“That’s… oh, Sarge, I don’t know what to say, that’s INCREDIBLE. It might be the sweetest thing’ I’ve ever heard-” it was true, Andrews didn’t know what it was like to be born directly into a war-zone; and at the time the man sitting in front of her was a child, the Earth had been under attack by enemies from outer space… not to mention all the never-ending fights between humans who decided they hated other humans enough to kill each other. No, she hadn’t lived through that, but she had seen documents and footage.

Many towns and cities were destroyed, and groups of people would try to band together; they formed new little communities, some traveling like nomads, others attempting to stay in one place, but all generally learning to rely on one another for safety and survival. Generations of children were lost during this time… from injury, illness, or lack of food. To think that she was now speaking to somebody who had grown up in that world, protected and nurtured by an extended-family of people who had been brought together by necessity, but stayed together by choice. That choice had, in fact, been to make sure a child could LIVE.

“I know, I know! Tragic and heart-warming… it’s practically Oscar-bait! But remember what we agreed on, not a word to anybody else! Bad enough that whipper-snapper apple-Jax knows…” he grumbled.

“Yes, I understand…” she couldn’t help but get a little choked-up, though.

“And, for the record- I mean, this is OFF the record, make sure to keep it that way! But just so YOU know, I’m not a bit embarrassed about my name! That’s not why I don’t wanna share it… it’s just…” Sarge seemed to struggle to find the words. “The people who named me are gone. All of them. And this wasn’t just my name, it was the name I shared with the all the children they lost… someday, I’m probably going to die on a battlefield, being taken out by an enemy, and God-willing, I’ll be wearing my RED ARMOR, going out with my boots on- but when that happens, whoever kills me… I don’t wanna hear them saying that name. It was good name that good people gave me, so…”

“So, you don’t want somebody who hates you to use the name that was made by people who loved you,” Andrews finished.

“Hurrrgh- if you WANT to read into it like that and add lots of mushy, emotional subtext, sure!” Sarge made several grunts and groans, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his helmet away to avoid looking at her.

“You are a surprisingly deep and sensitive individual, Sarge…” Andrews marveled.

“NO I AIN’T! YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW! I AM A ONE-DIMENSIONAL CHARACTER, A FLAT STEREO-TYPE OF ALL GRUFF MILITARY MEN, AND DON’T YOU FORGET IT!” The man now stood up, striking a heroic pose, raising one knee to place a foot upon his now empty chair, both hands clenched into fists and resting against his hips, the visor of his helmet pointed upward.

“I’VE NEVER HAD AN OUNCE OF PERSONAL GROWTH, AND I NEVER WILL! OTHER SOLDIERS WEAR THEIR ARMOR, BUT I AM THE ARMOR! I AM THE BACK-BONE OF RED TEAM! AND THE BRAINS! AND THE FISTS! ALSO, THE WEAPONS IN THE FISTS! IF YOU SAY MY NAME THREE TIMES AFTER SUMMONING BLOODY MARY, I SHOW UP AND SCARE HER OFF! FREDDY KRUEGER HAS NIGHTMARES ABOUT ME! I AM-”

“You are the Reddest Red to ever Red, yes, I know. I’ll be sure to keep that for the interview. That way, everybody will know the REAL you!” Andrews promised. Sarge gave a single nod of his approval, and quickly sat back down, as if nothing had happened.. “But, just in case…”

Sarge made a cartoonishly over-the-top growling noise at this. Andrews ignored that, and pushed on.

“If there is possibly some hidden layers, maybe some insight or… the method to your madness? I do still have a few more questions. As I said before, you’re free to skip anything you don’t want to answer. What do you say, Sarge?”

“Alright. Fine. Hurry up ‘n ask, before I change my mind!” that was settled, it seemed.

[wispstalk]

feel free to ignore this if you don't want random prompts, but i'd love to see a glimpse of Tanis at the palace if Martin had lived 🥺👉👈 does Cat come with them?

It was foolish of Martin to dismiss the tailors. It rankles to have them dressing him, as if he hasn’t put his own damned clothing on each morning. Well, he hasn't, of late; he's been sweating through the sheets and babbling half-mad into a darkened chamber. But let him have his pretenses, he thinks, let him cling to the illusion that he is something more than a doll to be preened and polished and propped on an imposing stone chair.

This first brush with Nibenese formal dress proves harrowing. Only two days out of that grand and dreary sickbed, his shaking limbs will not obey him. Just when he thinks he’s got the sash right, it falls from his shoulder, pooling ruby-red on the floor. He can’t bend to get it, not without the cane, which he left across the room. It wouldn’t do, Ocato said carefully, for the people to see their new Emperor so frail.

“Stubborn as ever,” says Tanis, from where he glowers in a gilded chair, already in his finery. “I’ll call the tailors back.”

“Don’t.” Martin gathers yards of linen into his arms, tugging sharply when it catches; realizes with dismay that Cat has pounced upon the trailing hem. “I’ve half a mind to throw this in the hearth and be crowned in my bedrobe.”

“If I have to look the part,” Tanis replies, the words pushed out like splinters, “so do you.”

“It’s an empty title, Tan, nothing is expected of you. Purely ceremonial. It’s only meant as an honor.”

“Honor,” he spits. “Yes, they’ll honor me so they can stomach me; they’ll have me kneel as if I’m the one indebted, and swear this and that, and make some holy vow to that dragon god of yours, the one that nearly cooked your brains—”

“Tanis.” Martin pulls fruitlessly at the fabric. Cat sinks her claws in, shredding the fine weave.

“I told you I’d swear no vows to the Empire. I told you. Higher and deeper, priest, once they've got their hooks in—”

“Tanis.” Cat has her prey in a death roll now; her back paws kick furiously at the gold tassel trim. “You needn’t accept Ocato’s offer.”

Gingerly, Martin lifts one foot to kick at the air, in hopes of shooing her off, but his bones scream in protest and his knee buckles and he realizes with resignation that in a moment he will be a puddle on the floor, just like the ruined cloth—

“But I will accept.” The voice sounds just above him. A hand catches his arm as he’s halfway down, pulls him back to standing, guides his shaking fingers to the handle of the cane. “Because you asked me to.”

With a deft and practiced hand— only one, the other arm is in a sling, silver silk to match the trim on his elegant suit— Tanis folds the cloth to hide the snagged threads and circles him, winding him up like a drop-spindle. The Emperor’s vestments are draped and tucked and secured, the tassels sit exactly as they should.

Tanis inspects his work, mouth tight. Then he looks Martin full in the face. “Do it here,” he says, his expression solemn. “This way I’ll— just do it now.”

And while Martin stammers, the other man— the storied Hero of Kvatch, the Arch-Mage looking every bit a dread sorceror in his dark suit and spangled half-cape— drops to one knee and bows his head, the very picture of chivalry.

Then he opens his mercenary mouth. “And don’t go calling on that old bitch Akatosh. You tell him to keep his grubby claws to himself from here on.”

“The holy vow is— well, it’s the crux of the thing, I’m afraid. Who do you suggest I invoke? Azura, or—”

“Oh, get on with it, for fuck’s sake,” Tanis mutters.

Martin can make do with what he’s given. “Tanis Irathi, do you swear,” he intones gravely, “this and that?”

Tanis shoots him a befuddled glance— then bows his head once more, hiding a grin. “And the other,” he affirms.

No sword with which to strike these heroic shoulders, so he taps his cane to either side of Tanis’s neck. “Let this be the last blow you receive unanswered.” No gods to bear them witness, so he proclaims: “Arise, Champion of Cyrodiil, and go forth and defend the helpless, for Fuck's sake.”

No courtly crowd to hail the new-made knight as he stands, only their laughter ringing off the grand vaulted ceiling. They clutch each other and cackle like a pair of gulls. It's laden, this laughter, with absurdity, with victory, with sheer relief. Battered beneath all their frippery, with only Fuck to call upon in their times of need; and yet, here they are. If not whole, at least alive.

Cat watches the commotion with eyes wide and ears flicked back in alarm. What a sight they must be, the Emperor and his knight.

[msweebyness]

Class of Heroes AU: Luka Couffaine

Here he iiiis! It’s Lukaaaa! Enjoy these Headcanons about our favorite music boi in the HeroVerse! As always, shout out to @imsparky2002 and @artzychic27! Peace!

• Juleka’s older twin brother (by about five minutes). He is a talented musician whose works were known throughout all the nations and kingdoms. He was and still is Juleka’s best friend (besides Rose, of course!)

• When the dark sorcerer whose advances Juleka refused turned her into a beast and her loved ones into household objects, he wanted to find a way to hurt her especially badly. So when he transformed Luka into a grand piano, he also took away his ability to speak, truly cutting him off from his sister.

• Though he wasn’t able to comfort his sister in a traditional sense, Luka still found ways to console Juleka through his music, playing to calm her when she lost her temper or to cheer her up when she was sad. Juleka misses him and his music terribly when she leaves for the school.

• Once Rose was able to break the curse through her love for Juleka (who chose to keep her Beast form as it was part of who she was and she was proud of it), Luka and the rest of the family and servants were transformed back into humans. The first thing Juleka did upon seeing her brother was to race forward and hug him as she hadn’t been able to in so long.

•After regaining his human form, Luka started attending the school with the rest of the hero kids. And it wasn’t long before he charmed his way into the hearts of a certain two royals and a warrior.

• When the three met up to discuss this new development, it wasn’t so much if they all felt the same way about the teal haired musician, it was how to approach him. Adrien couldn’t do it, he got way to flustered around Luka and began babbling a bunch of nonsense. It couldn’t be Kagami, because whenever her emotions overwhelmed her in any way, she tended to…start yelling. Marinette wasn’t a great option either, whenever she was at a loss for words, she froze like a statue.

• So basically, due to all three of them being disasters, they were in a hole. It was painful for all of their friends to watch them trying to figure this out. Thankfully, Luka has his Pan-Disaster self pretty much under control. He ended up being the one to confess his feelings to the three of them, and now they’re all happy together!

Long live Adrigamilukanette! Let me know what you think in the comments and reblogs! More to come soon!

[halonicheart]

Last Smile

Summary: A brief Lovechefant ficlet of certain events in Heavensward, MSQ A Knight's Calling spoilers.

The world around was already twisting into a blurry sunset orange tango, coupled with the figures around him that were his comrades now becoming faceless silhouettes- blobs of sentient colors with faces that sound far off. It was almost comical when he weakly surveyed his surroundings that the only thing, the only person he could still make out more clearly than all else was her. Haurchefant cannot help but let out a weak, wheezing laugh at his own expense. Through his racing memories fogging his mind, he recalls the time he vouched for her and her company… in his fading moments, he admits to himself he mainly vouched for Lovette above everyone else, though he has his suspicions that his own father was well aware of the fact. At the time, he had called her a Beacon of Hope, a grand title for an even grander hero whose tales he will never get to hear. 

He meant every word of praise, he knew now that he had every right to call her such even when she looked at him as if moments away from shattering to pieces and the weight of the world crushing her heart, still she shone brightly in the abyss. Her tear ridden eyes glimmered like starlight, much like the way they did with joy the night they first met. In the midst of his reminiscing, he realizes her lips are moving- likely frantically babbling, a charming tendency of hers that makes him cough out another wet chuckle before reaching out for her. “Lovette…” 

She goes still, wide eyed for only a single heartbeat before she scoots closer to him, hands grasping onto his own. He wished so terribly to give hers a reassuring squeeze but try as might he could not muster the strength. “You.. you are unharmed? F-forgive me… I could not bear the thought of… of… ” Like the lovelorn fool he is, Haurchefant tries to sit up just to get closer to her only to pathetically wince. He cannot bring himself to laugh much more, the pain may be fading but so too is he, that much was evident when whatever remained of his grip loosened just enough that he could feel his fingers slip through her hands. Haurchefant could only smile when she clamped her hands tighter, for a mercy, the pressure kept his consciousness grounded just long enough to muster what he knew would be his last words to her. 

In truth, he wished to cry. The poignant aching his chest hurt much more than the gaping wound in his abdomen. All the promises he made her will go unfilled, the ventures he wished so dearly to be whisked away with her on were not meant to be. A distant thought reminds him he never even got to present the dress he swore to have made for her… Still, even had he known it would all come to this from the day he met her, he would not have changed a single aspect of his life. There was no greater blessing than to have been able to meet his Love and be loved by her in return. She will live past this moment, that was how this was meant to be, and she will shine ever brighter despite the hardships she will face, this he knows for certain. 

He breathes in deeply, one last time. “Oh, do not look at me so… a smile suits you best…” Haurchefant has lost all feeling in his body, he can only pray that he was actually smiling at her. Lovette hurriedly nods as she swipes fiercely at the fresh fat tears streaming down her cheeks. She sniffles, the ends of her lips curving into a strained smile. “... Please don’t forget mine…” His only selfish request of her. 

 “I won’t…” Lovette hiccupped between the sobs she tried so desperately to hold back. He can only hope she doesn’t feel guilty for crying in front of him. “I’ll never forget your smile… Ser Knight...” A single tear is shed from Haurchefant, one that Lovette quickly wipes away. If only she knew how happy it made him to hear her call him that one last time. A silly, misspoken name that was quite frankly redundant in meaning. He recalls fondly how humiliated she was when he had to break it to her. Silly as it was, he cherished it all the same. To be sent off this way… he could not ask for more. 

He wished to stare at her longer, for eternity if he could, but he was growing ever so tired. Haurchefant could no longer keep his lids from falling. The world has gone dark, his body cold. 

He could not see the light leave her eyes. He could not hear the wails of agony that spilled from her lips nor the chanting of I love you… He could not say I love you back. 

[sabu-rina]

Ours. - Katsuki/OC/Shouto

tags\\ Polyamory, Relationship Reveal, Fluff and Angst (AO3)

Katsuki and Shouto do a televised interview and things go a little sideways.

The studio bustled with noise in every direction. Assistants half-ran with trays of coffee, chasing their VIPs, while crewmembers loudly adjusted expensive equipment, and producers had to yell into their headsets over the din. Eun pressed against a wall with her hands behind her back, chin down and out of the way. There was no missing the occasional glance, furrowed brows and wrinkled noses in her direction that asked why she was even there. No one told her to leave, probably because she’d walked in with the rising stars, the future Number Two and Three heroes, Katsuki and Shouto.

At barely 17, they’d fought and won a brutal war, so it was no wonder some already ascribed the titles. Meanwhile, she had no grand victory under her belt, at least none that were broadcasted. That left her with only the classics. Murderer. Criminal. Monster.

That wasn’t totally true. The cameras had caught her on the battlefield, but who saw her helping the heroes or assumed she was a villain, she couldn’t be sure because she refused to pick up magazines or watch the news anymore.

She was past the bitterness at least, especially seeing the boys now, her boys, collecting the accolades they deserved. They were ushered onto the set the moment they entered, with Shouto sitting quietly for his makeup lady while Katsuki nearly bit the other’s finger off when she ignored his refusal. They were dressed casually but neatly, as the whole interview was to get to know them as people. Or so the booking producer said.

The host was a tall, slender woman, long hair perfectly coifed and makeup immaculate, even as she babbled while the makeup guy was finishing up. She was talking to them, just chitchat and the occasional gush before the show, but neither seemed that interested in engaging. To be fair, it was Eun, with some help from Deku, that convinced them this was a good idea, although part of her had a sneaking suspicion about what direction the question would go. Two handsome boys…Heroes… She hoped to be wrong but expected the worst and thought maybe she should have stayed home.

“Alright! Places!” someone shouted. The crew scrambled to their positions and the makeup people rushed off the set. The host settled in her plush chair and crossed her legs, waiting for the go ahead. Katsuki leaned toward Shouto in irritation and draped his arm along the back of the couch while the other set his hands on his lap and stared ahead.

3…2…1…

Once the cameras rolled, the room went silent except for the host—Chika something—who energetically opened the show, then introduced their special guests, of course slipping in ‘handsome’ and a wink to the camera. Eun scolded the heat on her cheeks; it was no time for jealousy.

The interview went on for a bit, with the usual questions of ‘Who or what inspired you to become heroes?’ ‘What is your favorite subject at UA?’ and ‘Why is your hero name just Shouto?’ Then she asked how they think they’d grown since the start of the year, to which Katsuki scowled as a little pink tinted the tips of his ears. Shouto glanced at him before saying something about teamwork and maturity. Even Eun could see from across the room that he was still tense, probably wondering why any of these questions mattered. Katsuki’s entire face asked the same question, but he was being good like he’d promised. Maybe that was a little deeper than either boy wanted to go.

“Speaking of teamwork, you two seem to be much better friends these days,” she said, “Can I ask what brought you two closer?”

Eun smiled, knowing her own answer would have been a very blunt, ‘Trauma.’ Surprisingly, Katsuki was the one to answer.

“We have mutual friends,” he said. Shouto relaxed a little, the corners of his lips quirking upward knowingly. Eun pulled the front of her hoodie up to cover her mouth, pulling the drawstrings tighter. As the interview went on, she’d begun to fiddle with them, both bored and a little anxious, and now they were getting a little too close to the personal questions she dreaded.

“Friends?” Chika repeated, eyebrows raised. Then she laughed a little and gracefully uncrossed her legs so she could lean in a little before continuing. Eun clenched her jaw, now annoyed that the boys were walking right into the trap.

“There is one thing I’m sure everyone at homeis curious about. You’re young, handsome boys, you must have dated a little? Are either of you seeing a lucky lady? Bakugo-kun?” She turned to him first, unphased to find him almost glaring at her.

When he didn’t speak right away, Eun’s heart fell into her writhing guts. There it was, what she knew would happen eventually. You’ll be nothing but a stain on his career. Endeavor was many things, and correct about that was one, his hurtful words a last-ditch effort to separate her from Shouto when they dated months ago. She’d lived with that since, thinking about it every time she went out with someone despite the risk of being recognized or photographed, and now, it must have clicked for Katsuki too. She buried more of her face into her sweater, not wanting to watch the public rejection, to see his face when he relegated her to a secret. A fling.

“It’s none of your damn business, but actually, I am.”

Her head shot up so fast it nearly hit the wall behind her, the sweater no longer hiding her expression, now one of shock. Katsuki still stared at Chika, but the glare was one of boredom, his head cocked toward Shouto like he might fall asleep if she asked one more dull question.

“I must say, there are some girls out there who are very disappointed right now,” Chika said, then turned to Shouto. “What about you, Todoroki-kun? There were reports of you with that one girl last year. What was her name? Tokko?” Katsuki’s upper lip curled, the first moment of his cool turning hot, but Shouto cut him off before he could explode.

“Eun,” he corrected, almost too calmly, “And her surname is Rin now. We were dating.”

No longer in her stomach was Eun’s heart, as it shot back up to her ribcage where it pounded so hard, she thought the whole room could hear. Chika took a moment to grapple with the reveal, but just as she latched onto the ‘were,’ Katsuki spoke up again, now looking at Shouto.

“He isdating her,” he corrected, then turned back to Chika, “We both are.”

“Gah!”

Some nearby crew turned to look at Eun as she involuntarily exclaimed, a dark blush quickly spreading from ear to ear. She pulled her sweater up quickly and buried her face in it to hide the sheer embarrassment. What were they doing?! There wasn’t a PR agent on Earth that could undo that damage.

Chika blanched at the proclamation, too taken aback for words. Eventually, she stuttered out a response, fixing her skirt as if it’d become disheveled.

“W-well, that sure is…” she said, “I think we can all agree that was… utterly unexpected.”

Eun peeked out to find both boys fully relaxed and clearly over the whole thing. Chika, now visibly uncomfortable, wrapped up the interview rather quickly. When she offered them parting words, where someone might plug a sponsor or say something nice to the host, Katsuki sat up, looked straight into the camera, and shocked the audience once again.

“Yeah, I’ve got something I wanna say. Our girlfriend is a hero, and we don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

Chika, now sweating, slowly turned to Shouto with a look that pleaded for him to be fully hinged and normal. “And T-Todoroki-kun?”

He smiled at her, too innocently and too kindly. “What he said.”

With that, the whole debacle, or spectacle, was over. Chika seemed to collapse in her seat as the boys walked off set like nothing happened. The crew gave them space to pass, muttering among themselves about what had just occurred. Eun was still hiding, knuckles pressed to her cheeks while only her eyes poked out. Katsuki shoved a hand into his pocket and grabbed her arm with the other, not bothering to stop their trek to the exit. Once she was away from the wall, he let go and draped his arm over her shoulders instead, pulling her into him. On her other side, Shouto pulled her nervous fist from the front of her hoodie and intertwined their fingers.

Once outside, Katsuki let out a loud sigh, tinged with irritation.

“That was goddamn painful,” he said, kicking a rock. “I’m never letting you talk me into an interview ever again.” Eun peeked at him, cheeks still blazing red.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Shouto reasoned, “You stayed calm the whole time.” Eun looked at him next, only to find him already smiling at her.

Suddenly, she stopped dead, ducking out from Katsuki’s arm and slipping from Shouto’s hand as they continued a few steps. She clutched her chest again, trying to still her trembling body and the harsh, stabbing beat of her heart. Her hair fell in her face, thankfully hiding the red now rimming her eyes.

“Why’d you do that?” she asked, quiet and almost accusingly, “You could have lied, or been vague. It’s not their business…and your reputation—”

“Do I look like I give a shit about my reputation?” Katsuki asked, his words sharper than his tone. She lifted her head to look at him, her brow furrowed just from holding back tears. He clicked his tongue and faced her fully, shifting his weight to one leg like the conversation was exhausting. And maybe it was, but only because he hated that there was a problem at all.

“So, what if people judge you? Or me? Or Icy-Hot, here? You’re a hero, so I’ll say it as many times as I have to for people to get the damn picture. Because you’re worth it.”

Shouto looked at him in awe, thoroughly impressed that he found the words he himself had been searching for since the incident that got her expelled. Even if they weren’t as eloquent as he might have been, the words Katsuki found were sweet all the same. He looked over to Eun for her reaction. Her head had dropped as she pressed both fists to her eyes, but he could still catch a glimpse of her quivering lips, of her jaw clenched tightly to hold back the sobs. She couldn’t hide her shoulders either, which tensed upward and shook. His heart broke.

But before either boy could move to comfort her, she surged forward and pulled them in by their necks, hugging them tightly so they couldn’t see her face, which she buried in Katsuki’s neck. Shouto immediately wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. He found it shaking more, and heard the ragged, quiet breaths of stifled sobs, further muffled by Katsuki’s t-shirt.

Katsuki put his arm around her as well, although the other went to Shouto’s back, and pressed his cheek to her head. Hearing her break like that, feeling her break like that, to something as mundane as saying they were in a relationship, pissed him off to no end. Maybe the polyamory part was a bit much, fine, but that society still called her a monster for something that was not her fault, that she took responsibility for anyway, that was trash. Knowing she put so much of herself into being a vigilante, risking everything to be the hero no one would let her be… The feeling in his chest was more than just anger.

He hadn’t lied; he would stand up for her every chance he got, just so she could hug him in public, or hold Shouto’s hand, or simply exist without stares and whispers following her around.

After a few minutes, Eun started to relax again, the sobs turning to sniffles and the occasional whimper. She turned her head toward the other boy, took a deep, shaky breath, and hugged them both tighter before slowly releasing them. Shouto immediately reached out to wipe her cheeks with his sleeve, hoping his smile was more comforting than sad. Katsuki tugged the front of his shirt to look at the wet spot on his shoulder. Eun rubbed her eye and let out the smallest laugh, like she was remembering how to make the sound at all.

“Got you wet,” she said, voice as soft as her smile.

“That’s my line,” he said, letting the fabric go as he smirked at her. Her face dipped as she laughed again, a little more Eun than before. When she raised her head again, she smiled wider and cocked her head.

“Alright…You made me cry, so now you owe me boba.”

“Hah?!”

Eun laughed, now fully back, and Shouto joined in, holding her hand once again. Katsuki overexaggerated his scowl and spun on his heel to march away.

“Fine. Come on then!”

Still laughing, the other two hurried to catch up. Eun hooked her arm around Katsuki’s elbow, and while he still pretended to be mad, his hand left his pocket and tangled with hers.

Thank you for reading! Hope there was enough context for this to stand alone!

[flockrest]

directly referring to this / @gloryseized

     For all that's changed in these past moon phases ( and wow, is it a lot ), Tulin still starts moulting exactly one whole winter from his last shed feather. It's kinda funny, 'cause being the Sage of Wind can feel like such a grand undertaking that he almost forgets these little things can happen to him. S'not usually something he makes a big deal of, anyway — not when everyone goes through the same thing, asks the same questions, and gives the same ol' answers.

     'Cept this time, over a dinner of seafood curry, when Cree picks up one of his fallen quills to hand back to him with a teasing, "Got anyone special to preen this winter?" — it's not the same ol' answer that comes fresh to Tulin's mind.

     It creeps on him slow, like if a Chuchu knew how to hunt. Fragments of maybe-connected thoughts that emerge so casually as Molli turns to repeat the question, even more teasing-teasing-teasing — then it pounces. Creeping like a Chuchu; hitting him like a lit bomb arrow.

     Maybe he does have someone special to preen this winter. Special enough to wanna give one of his feathers to when he isn't his mum or dad or Molli or Uncle Harth or nest or even, technically, flock.

     Tulin's not sure how to feel 'bout it.

     On one wing — a friend! Stars, a really, really close friend that's special enough to be more, one he's happy to be able to love lots! Happy to have fought with when his home needed it! Happy to continue fighting with now! Happy to have travelled with, and seen an awful lotta awesome stuff with, and done so many impossibly cool things with, and learnt so much from as a warrior and not-a-warrior, and—

     "It sounds like you've already figured out how you 'feel about it', Tulin," Mum gently tells him, in the split second it takes for him to take a breath from all his babbling.

     "So...it's okay?" Some part of him knows he doesn't need to, but he peeks up at her and Dad with a chick's eyes — the ones he swore off of — 'cause he really wants this to be okay. Like, really badly needs this to be okay. "With you guys?"

     Dad smiles real soft, and that's a yes if Tulin ever saw one.

     Turns out, there's a lotta preparations you gotta do before you can invite a Hylian over for a full preening.

     Most of it's the same as preparing to fully preen a Rito — like the collecting, the painting, the dying, and the weaving he leaves to Kido 'cause he wants his cords to look good. But there's also stuff like getting used to a specific hook-and-thread for Hylian hair, and trying to do the same with Hylian hair itself when you don't have any of it just lying 'round for practice.

     Eh. Tulin makes it work.

     By the time his guest of honour finally returns to their peaks, with how fluttery and restless Tulin's gotten, everybody knows to leave their hero be until he's done with him. Which is great! 'Cause, um. It's a while.

     Link's hair feels how it looks. Soft and a little fluffy, a lot thinner and harder to grab at than his own feathers. He ends up using his beak waaaay more than he thought he'd have to, but Link doesn't complain 'bout being preened like a hatchling, so he doesn't think to apologise for it. He chats when he can in between fixing up braids and pulling stupidly fine hair through bead openings, 'bout stuff like what he's been up to, what Link's been up to, did Link know Molli's got another new idea for her arrows, has Link gone to see that pretty, pink tree by the village's entrance, and everything else under the sun shining into the aerie.

     Before he knows it, he's tying off practically the last scrap of real free space left on Link's head with a cinch of his beak. He leans back, sorta tired, but — gazing upon all that he's put into those golden locks, at everything he's saying bright and loud and bombastically clear to everyone who'd bother to look ( and oh, they'd look, alright! ) — with a heart that feels almost worryingly full.

     He can't stop grinning as Hyrule's hero assesses his work. He traces it out with his touch, looks at it this way and that. Tulin doubts Link knows this when nobody's probably sat down and explained it to him, but the colours are important. 'Course they are. And, y'know, he doubts Link knows this even more: but to be given a Rito's quill is to be claimed.

     As flock, yeah, duh.

     As nest, though, too.

     For the one who believed in and took him to do what nobody else could in a time they needed it most; for the one who has given him another amazing something and someone to chase after ever since he was a fledgling; for the one who trusts in and— and loves him enough to sit here for ages and ages and ages 'til he's all done with his preening—

     For Link, it's as his big brother.

     ( "Yeah, you better love it!" Tulin laughs, a joke and earnest sincerity all at once. He returns the, "thank you, thank you," 'cause Link really was sat there for a while without a break — stars know he wouldn't be able to do the same without, like, exploding or something.

     Then Link's hands do something weird.

     T...wind. Huh? Is that...? He tilts his head, the question unvoiced but plainly written all over his beak: what's that s'pposed to mean? )

[edwinspaynes]

Man you guys really want me to pop off huh

Okay, so, I'm every ounce a Dirty Wessa Shipper. Love Wessa, have a Wessa tattoo, think they're soulmates, their dynamic is perfect. Do not like Jessa at all, think it stunts Tessa's personality, don't think they vibe well together. I'll always respect Herongraystairs as the best canon outcome because it's what Will and Tessa want, but I'm a Wessa-exclusive through and through.

This is partly because TID sets Wessa up absolutely beautifully. They're compatible. They're passionate. They have an amazing story.

Then Will dies and Tessa gets with Jem. Sad, but that's life. TID ends, and as of the ending of Clockwork Princess, I'd be totally fine with the way it panned out and find it a gut wrenchingly beautiful ending even if, again, I'd prefer Immortal Power Couple Wessa.

But then CP2 was not the end for our three ragtag heroes.

(Well... at least two of them.)

CC proceeds to then shove Jem and Jessa into every bit of new content, giving them a full on novella bindup, scenes in every TDA book, and a billion bonus stories. This is annoying, but it became a serious problem when Will and Tessa were both sidelined in TLH, which is about THEIR FAMILY, in favor of Jem. I mean this both individually and as a ship. We have a grand total of 2 Wessa scenes across 3 big books, and one of them features them babbling about Jem. Tessa doesn't appear much at all; Will gets more scenes but still appears less than Jem. The end of ChoI's short story is Jem. Annoyed is no longer the appropriate emotion. At this point, I HATE the content distribution. And the "Wessa were the parents" argument ain't holding up considering how much we see Jessa with Kit in GotSM and QoaaD and how much they're definitely going to be in TWP.

It feels like CC no longer wants to write Wessa. It's transparent to me that Will is forgotten.

In any case, beyond content, there's the issue with how Will is presented in the Herongraystairs dynamic. In the modern books, Will feels like he's nothing more than a blip in Jem and Tessa's love story. Which is ridiculous and I hate it! He's just not relevant anymore and it makes me so fucking angry!

I wait and wait for CC to at least acknowledge Wessa, but it just never happens. So I will never hold hope for Wessa content again, sorry. It just isn't happening. I have to know when to cut my losses.

[happypeachsludgeflower]

Cultic Class-ic

Damien Wayne didn’t set out to be a troll. In fact, if any of his fellow batclan members were to be asked, Damien Wayne wasn’t capable of being a troll. He was too much of a troll already—albite, one of a different sort. The sort that slinks through the shadows and slithers just out of sight. The sort that stabs you in the gut and twists the knife in with a jerk—not enough to kill, just… maim, and cause pain. That type of sort.

But, well, it just sort of happened.

And Damien would have it known that it was NOT his fault.

It started, as most things do with Damien Wayne, as an argument. A simple one really. A minor disagreement. But no argument can ever really stay simple. Not when it’s with Damien Wayne.

It started a bit like this:

“Hey, Wayne! Have you seen the news about the speech your brother gave?” The Grand Annoyance Number One asked as he plopped into a seat next to Damien. He’d earned the title honestly.

Damien clenched his jaw and continued to stare down at his book. He had, in fact, seen the news. Not that he needed to of course. He’d been there, after all. “I’m an only child,” he intoned dryly. He turned the page.

“Uhuh, sure bud,” The Grand Annoyance ™ said amusedly. It was always like this, and Damien hated it. He’d done everything he could to make it CLEAR he was NOT interested in acquaintances or, god forbid, friends, but this classmate—and he said the term with as much loathing as he could muster—of his was persistent. “So you know that part where he was somethin like ‘we’re all heroes in our own way’ and ‘we gotta help out the little guy’ and all?” the other boy paraphrased as he blathered on nonchalantly.

Damien growled under his breath. Annoying. He was so annoying. And the speech??! It was irresponsible.

Why Drake thought it acceptable to give the plebeians a sense of grandeur, Damien would never understand. His classmates were not heroes. They would never be heroes. And it took more then an insipid smile and a jovial pat on the back to go out every night and save world.

It was work.

It was hard work.

And this peasant probably thought he could do it too without any sweat, or tears, or blood.

Annoying.

“So anyway,” the classmate plowed on, unconcerned by Damian’s blatant disinterest as he chattered, “I was like, that’s awesome! And Tim Drake’s so iconic!! He’d def get my vote for president if he ran. And have you seen him in all black?? That suit he wore at the last gala?? He could totally rock the bat suit. He’s way cooler then some of the current vigilantes—not that the vigilantes aren’t cool and all! Don’t get me wrong. They’re totally cool. But The Tim Drake?? As a superhero?! We should absolutely make a petition to get Tim Drake to be a legit hero!”

Damien fiddled with the edge of his book’s page and internally rolled his eyes as he listened with half an ear—which was like, what, a quarter of his attention? The Annoyance ™ was still jabbering at him. He was just another arrogant and presumptuous and a pompous and—wait. Damien jerked up and stared at the bumbling idiot as his babbling caught up with Damien.

“You want to what?” he blurted, aghast, and then added, “Why?”

The Annoyance ™ blinked at him, clearly startled to have received a reply at all. “Uhh.” He squinted at Damien. “Are you feeling alright, bud?” He reached forward to feel Damien’s forehead. Damien swatted the appendage away and glowered.

“Why?” he snarled.

“‘Cause he’s awesome??” the other boy replied astonished. He was giving Damien a look that obviously said he thought Damien had lost it.

“No he’s not. He’s a slob and an addict and a creepy obsessed stalker.”

The Annoyance ™ chewed his lip and tilted his head to stare for a long minute at Damien. “Ya,” he nodded decisively, “You’ve gone completely round the twist.” He patted Damien on the shoulder consolingly. Damien voice gnarled as he whacked the other boy away. His teeth clacked together as he gnashed them. This boy was going to die.

“It’s okay,” Annoyance ™ continued to reassure, unperturbed by his impending eradication. “Too much awesomeness can do that to the best of us,” he nodded, “It’s like that movie Dogma, from like, wayy back in the olden days. De-angled Ben Affleck couldn’t withstand the amazingness of God’s true voice. She was just too awesome. Like Tim!” His eyes lit up. “O M G TIM’S A GOD!!”

Wham!

Damien’s fist collided with the Annoyance’s chin bringing a quick close to the discussion, and a quicker visit to the principles office.

But it was over. For now.

But the seeds of Damien’s trolling ways had been planted and there was no stopping the invasive growth that would follow.

[sciencestyled]

When Nature Calls, Science Education Responds: A Wild Romp Through the Woods of Wisdom

Ladies, gents, and interdimensional couch potatoes, strap on your goggles and prepare for a dive into the ludicrous lagoon of learning we affectionately call "Outdoor and Environmental Education." Picture this: a world where the classroom ceiling is the sky, the desks are patches of grass, and the blackboard is the very fabric of reality. This isn't your grandma's science class, oh no. We're about to embark on an educational escapade that's as zany as a squirrel on a caffeine spree.

Now, imagine a band of intrepid learners, armed with nothing but their wits and perhaps a waterproof notebook, venturing into the wild unknown. These brave souls are not setting forth to conquer new lands but to conquer ignorance itself, with the battle cry of "For science education!" echoing through the trees. It's an image so inspiring, even the most jaded TikTok influencer would pause mid-scroll.

In this grand arena, the ancient trees are not mere carbon dioxide converters; they're the venerable professors of photosynthesis. The babbling brooks are not just future whitewater rafting trips; they're dynamic tutorials on erosion and water cycles, more engaging than any YouTube explainer video, even those with flashy animations and snappy jokes.

Consider the humble bee, buzzing from flower to flower in an eternal quest for nectar. Here, it's not just an insect; it's a masterclass in biology, ecology, and the critical importance of dance moves in communication. Yes, learning from bees might just save us from a future where the only buzz we get is from our phones vibrating with another doomscrolling notification.

And let's not forget the soil beneath our feet, a complex network of life that makes the interwebs look like a tangled mess of charger cables in comparison. Digging into it reveals a storyline more intricate and tangled than the plot of "Inception," with earthworms and microorganisms as the unsung heroes in the tale of decomposition and nutrient cycling.

But what's the point of all this outdoor frolicking, you ask? It's simple: to foster a connection to the environment that's stronger than the Wi-Fi signal at a tech conference. It's about instilling a sense of stewardship that makes even the most hardened city slicker think twice before tossing a plastic bottle into the abyss of non-recyclables.

Through hands-on experiences that would make even MacGyver proud, students learn that sustainability isn't just a buzzword but a way of life, as essential as charging one's phone. They discover that ecological concepts are not just textbook fodder but the very blueprints for survival in a world where climate change is the uninvited party crasher.

But here's the kicker: amidst all this learning, there's a level of fun and engagement that makes traditional classroom settings seem as dull as a documentary about paint drying. This is where science education truly shines, turning every leaf over to reveal a universe of wonder, every muddy footprint a step towards understanding our planet.

It's an educational journey that's as unpredictable as a British summer, filled with moments of awe, episodes of laughter, and perhaps the occasional mishap involving a misplaced step into a puddle of questionable origin. But through it all, the lessons learned are as vivid as the plumage of a peacock strutting its stuff at the promenade of life.

So there you have it, a rollicking rollercoaster ride through the verdant valleys of science education, where knowledge grows wild and free, and the only limit is how dirty you're willing to get your hands. It's a world where learning is as exhilarating as finding Wi-Fi in the wilderness, a reminder that sometimes, to truly connect with the world, you have to disconnect and just... listen to nature's call.

To all the interdimensional couch potatoes out there, consider this your invitation to swap the remote for a magnifying glass, the couch for a canoe. Because when nature calls, science education responds, and the adventure that awaits is as boundless as the stars in the sky – provided you're willing to take that first step outside.

[perfectpersonlover]

In nature's realm, where wisdom's whispers flow,

A tale unfolds, with courage in its glow.

A hero bold, with heart and valor true,

Embarked on a quest, a journey to pursue.

Through verdant forests, he ventured forth,

Guided by stars, the heavens' celestial north.

Majestic mountains, their peaks kissed by light,

Stood witness to his quest, imbued with might.

With every step, nature's secrets unfurled,

The symphony of life, a song to the world.

Whispering leaves and babbling brooks,

Shared ancient wisdom in nature's sacred books.

The hero faced trials, both fierce and grand,

A labyrinth of challenges, where shadows expand.

Yet he pressed on, undeterred by despair,

His spirit aflame, a beacon of rare.

In the heart of darkness, he found a key,

A kernel of truth, a glimpse of eternity.

The answers he sought, elusive and vast,

Lay hidden within, a journey to the past.

With newfound wisdom, he returned to the light,

A transformed soul, radiant and bright.

He shared his tale, a gift to behold,

A tapestry woven of courage and stories untold.

And so, dear friends, let this tale inspire,

To seek adventure, to let your spirits aspire.

Embrace the unknown, with laughter as your guide,

For in life's grand tapestry, may joy forever abide.

In nature's embrace, find solace and peace,

Let its beauty and mystery grant you release.

For in the blending of philosophy and mirth,

We find the essence of a life of true worth.

[melanieenvs3000f23]

Week 5: Harmonizing with the Environment

Hey fellow nature enthusiasts!

I wasn’t quite sure what to write for this blog post because of the freedom we have to write, but as I sat down and started thinking I couldn't help but marvel at the incredible journey we've embarked on this week in our environmental science class. From decoding the secrets of the universe to unraveling the art of blogging and podcasting, it feels like we've been on a rollercoaster of knowledge – and I'm loving every twist and turn!

You know, it's funny how life sometimes throws unexpected curveballs at us. A week ago, if someone had told me I'd be considering the artistic merits of a podcast or pondering the nuances of environmental blogging, I'd have raised an eyebrow. But hey, here we are, riding the wave of evolution in the realm of nature communication.

So, let's chat about the tools of our trade. A decade from now, who knows what gizmos and gadgets we'll be using to weave our tales of the great outdoors? Virtual reality hikes, holographic wildlife documentaries, or maybe even mind-reading interfaces that beam our thoughts directly into the minds of our audience (okay, that last one might be a bit far-fetched, but hey, it's fun to dream, right?).

As we dive into the future, let's not forget the essence of what we're doing – connecting with people on a visceral level, igniting their passion for the environment, and maybe even inspiring a few future conservation heroes. Whether we're donning Parks Canada ranger uniforms or crafting poetic verses about the dance of leaves in the wind, the goal remains the same – to share the awe and wonder of nature.

Speaking of which, have you ever stopped to consider nature as a symphony? The rustle of leaves, the babbling brooks, the chirping of birds – it's a cacophony of life's music playing all around us. And guess what? We're the conductors, guiding our audience through the symphony of the great outdoors.

Imagine taking your audience on a virtual hike through the Amazon rainforest. Instead of just narrating the facts, let them hear the lively chatter of exotic birds, feel the humidity in the air, and marvel at the kaleidoscope of colors. Suddenly, it's not just a lesson; it's an experience, a journey that transcends the boundaries of a traditional classroom.

Now, let's not get bogged down by the formalities of environmental discourse. Sure, data and statistics have their place, but sometimes, a touch of humor, a sprinkle of whimsy, can make the most complex topics accessible. After all, who said learning about climate change can't be as fun as a day at the beach?

So, my fellow nature narrators, let's embrace the evolution of our craft. Whether you choose the path of a ranger, a blogger, a podcaster, or something yet to be invented, relish the journey. As the tools change, the heart of our message remains timeless – nature is amazing, and it's worth protecting.

In the grand orchestra of life, let's be the composers of a melody that resonates across time, inviting everyone to join in the harmony of our planet.

Until next time, happy writing!

Melanie