#this was actually just to get out of the team building

[leclercings]

Adrenaline Rush | Lando Norris x Reader

Genre: Blurb

Pairing: Lando Norris x wife!Reader

A/N: another request! This is the first time I've written something about actually driving a car and the race. Apologies for any mistakes.

yourusername

tagged f1

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, georgerussell63, and others

yourusername: It has been a tough journey, but worth it. Thank you to everyone who supported me. All those ups and downs- what a rollercoaster. Can't believe I have the honour of being the first female driver to win the World Championship, and I couldn't have done it without my family, my team, and most importantly, Lando, my sweetheart.

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landonorris: congratulations babe!

↳yourusername: I love you!

oscarpiastri: congratulations!

susie_wolff: well deserved!

racerbia: what an icon!!

“What the fuck was that?” You scream in the radio as you exit the pit lane.

Adrenaline surging high, twenty more laps to go. Yas Marina hasn't been your favourite circuit but it's the last one, and you're pushing towards the world championship.

You and Max have a difference of just a few points, and if you win today- you will be the first female driver who has won the world championship.

There's a lot of pressure.

You drop down to fifth in the grid, with your teammate, Charles ahead of you.

“Charles will make the way for you.” You hear on the radio as your overtake Charles.

Sitting in a F1 car, driving at the speed of 220mph, all you can hear is the sound of the engine over your own breath.

It's super hot. You can feel your body burning and sweat trickling down your face.

You push the car a little more to see Lando ahead of you.

“Two tenths of a second to catch up with Lando.”

“Copy.” You reply.

You're in the DRS zone of Turn 7. You push yourself as much as you can. Lando defends his position, but you're determined. With a few milliseconds you find yourself ahead of him.

“Good job, mate.” You hear on the radio.

You've climbed up to third. Ahead of you are Max and Checo.

“Checo will be pitting in this lap.”

“Copy.”

Checo goes in the pitlane and you climb up to the second place.

A few laps later, you see the yellow flag.

“Hope… everyone's okay…” You breathe heavily in the radio.

“Yes. Debris at Turn 13.”

Everyone slows down. You can see Max right in front of you. This is your chance.

A lap later, you can see the safety car moving.

The race is about to begin again.

You take a deep breath in, ready to push yourself to the maximum.

Green flag waves and you accelerate the car. Max is in front of you, defending really well.

You’re about to reach Turn 7, ready to overtake Max. You try to go into the left corner and he comes ahead, and then you push yourself a little more before overtaking him at the edge of the track.

You whisper a silent thank you.

“Well done, mate.”

Max tries to take his position back. But you stand firm.

You're defending really well so far. You focus on building up a race pace.

It's the last lap of the race.

You've been warned that Max is behind you, trying to overtake.

You push a little further, and you can almost see him coming to the right but you accelerate the car and within a few milliseconds you're ahead of him, just as the chequered flag waves.

“Congratulations!” You hear on the radio.

“Oh my god.” You scream.

You can hear cheers in the background.

You slow the car down.

You won.

You freaking won.

You see Max sliding up next to you, giving you a thumbs up. You respond back with a thumbs up.

You take the car towards the podium area where the Ferrari mechanics are waiting for you.

You park the car, getting out and standing up on it.

“Yes,” you shout loudly as you take your helmet off.

You see Max and Lando coming from behind.

You smile at Lando, before he runs towards you and kisses you.

You won. And your husband stands third.

“I love you, babe.” You tell him and he smiles at you.

You wave at the audience as you walk up the podium right next to your husband. There are cheers. Everybody is super proud.

You're the World Champion for 2023- an inspiration for every girl out there. People like you set an example that dreams can be achieved, so don't be afraid to dream big.

[thebroccolination]

“IF NO ONE ACCEPTS YOU, YOU HAVE ME”

Lately I’ve seen the narrative around Krist shifting from “he’s homophobic” to “he was homophobic, but he got better :)” so!

Let’s go back to a moment in 2017 during a ceremony where Krist and Singto accepted an award from the Thai branch of the gay magazine Attitude (now defunct). That’s the magazine that published this photoshoot:

[Attitude, 2018, promoting SOTUS S] (they also did one in 2016 for SOTUS)

Krist said that a friend of his once came out to his parents, and the parents wouldn’t accept him, so Krist told his friend, “It’s okay. If no one accepts you, you have me, and I accept you for who you are.”

So, yes, Krist was hotheaded when people kept harassing him about his sexuality, but can anyone truly blame him? No one looks at all the times he answered politely. Just the one time he broke. [EDIT: I just spoke with someone who was there when the infamous IG story was posted, and they said: “Krist's tone and demeanour when he emphatically said "no" was like, y'know, still friendly. It's like when friends tease you relentlessly and you say ‘no’ more forcefully to get them to stop?” And that actually was my first impression of it back in 2020—a joke that landed badly. And it lines up with his first apology: that he felt badly because his answer was taken out of context.]

There are people today who film these guys at the urinal. Who treat them like property because of money and time spent on them. Who hire trucks to drive around their company building making demands. And it’s 2024. GMMTV has legal teams on this stuff now. But you and I can’t imagine what kind of invasiveness Krist and Singto went through in 2016 as one of the first pairs in the BL industry to gain overnight fame and rabid, unprecedented focus from millions. Of course he snapped. It’s widely known that fans and reporters target Krist over Singto to get information even today because Singto never gives anyone the satisfaction of a reaction, but Krist is a people-pleaser and truly struggles with saying no to people. He’s always been the emotional one, the one who overthinks, the one desperate to make people happy. And when fans wanted to force KristSingto to publicly say that they were secretly dating, fans thought they could get Krist to break first, and they were right. (Personally, I always thought the Instagram story was an exaggerated joke that was a barely veiled “drop it.” EDIT: I’m glad at least one person who was there at the time can corroborate this.)

Then interfans came along, marked him as an easy target, and maliciously miscast him as a bigot to wave after wave of new interfans who never bothered to research further after a random person on the internet told them he’s a homophobe.

Krist asked his parents for their blessing to audition for SOTUS when he was still a teenager. He was afraid of what they’d think, but because his parents are lovely people, they supported him. And they still do. Krist’s father has a running joke that he’ll let Krist marry Singto if Singto brings a durian for the dowry.

I never included Singto in my clarification thread because I knew how quickly people would dismiss anything with Singto as conniving, tricksy fanservice. But you really don’t know anything about Krist until you see him with people he considers his safe spaces. That includes people like Mike. Like Gawin. Godji. Oat. These people who love him because he’s earned it.

I know I talk about this a lot. But I won’t ignore it when people try to twist his character, especially with I see them making assumptions about the premise of Ex-Morning. All I believe is that he was angry and afraid and overwhelmed. Then he reacted, apologized, and learned how to handle the fame and the invasiveness better.

Please stop trying to claw marrow out of a past mirage.

[sl0t4matt]

Marc Guiu and reader making up after an argument pls

m. guiu | into it

ik hector doesn’t have his license yet but here he does ok?! also sorry i got carried away and wrote smut :o

warnings: toxic relationship, smut, not proof read

“are you actually fucking kidding me, marc?” you scoff, grabbing your things ready to leave. you were sick of his shit. sick of him taking his anger out on you when you did nothing but support and be there for him. how could be so mean? you understand that him loosing a game would get him upset, but making it seem like it’s your fault, when he should’ve been the one to kick the ball in the net is just not fair.

“yeah run away, like you always do when it gets tough.” he walks after you, shrugging his shoulders. “marc, don’t you take your shit out on me, because the both of us know it’s literally not on me you can’t kick a ball.” you shake your head, clearly having enough of your boyfriends whining. “fuck you can be such a-.” he stops himself before saying something stupid. “yeah, no we’re done. don’t even try to call me because i won’t come back. i mean it this time.”

you walk out the house, catching marc’s sister on the way. “hey, what happened, i heard yelling, are you guys okay?” she gives you an concerned look, probably noticing the tears that have been building up in the corner of your eyes.

before you completely break down in front of her, you decide to give her a nod, before leaving. you couldn’t believe marc. he has gotten mad about his team losing many times, but it has never been this bad. sure you would fight, it’s just something that was part of your relationship, but maybe that isn’t so normal after all.

you were both toxic playing stupid games with each other like how to make the other jealous. you loved it, the fights, the trouble. it’s what kept your relationship entertaining, but now you weren’t so sure anymore.

just fucking great! now you have to walk home. you go to walk on the other side of the street, when you suddenly hear a honk, making you jump. you turn to see hectors car stopping beside you. “shit, you scared me! what the hell are you doing here.” you sigh, shaking your head. “came to take you home.” he answers. “i’m f-.” “just get in the damn car, y/n.” hector interrupts you. you roll your eyes, walking to the passenger seat.

you wouldn’t have needed him to drive you if it wasn’t so dark out. “did marc tell you to drive me?” you ask, looking over at him. he doesn’t reply, instead he keeps looking at the road not giving a reaction, so you must take his silence as an answer. “what happened?” you can’t help but scoff. “as if marc didn’t tell you already.” he shakes his head. “he didn’t. he just told me he fucked up again and that i should pick you up.”

“we’ll at least he knows he did.” you breathe out a laugh. “seriously, what happened?” he repeats. “he’s just bitching about the lose of the game and literally behaves like a child, acting like it’s my fault. he also almost called me a bitch… so told him we’re done.” hectors eyes widen, looking like they are about to pop out. “wait what? you broke up with him, like for real this time.”

you giggle, nodding. “i’m just done with all the fights, you know.” you look out the window watching the peaceful road, with almost no cars to be seen. “but you guys love it.” he furrows. “i’m just tired lf it, you know?” he nods. “that’s fair, he’s dumb for treating you like that.” hector says, before shutting the motor down, because you arrived home. “what are you doing right now?” you ask hector, since you guys haven’t talked much previously. “nothing, why?” you smirk. “you have to stay with me! we haven’t had our gossip sessions in so long.” you nudge him. “yeah, if that makes you feel better.” he smiles shrugging. “definitely. god, there’s so much tea!!” you walk over to your house

…

“i still love him, even if he does stupid shit like that you know.” you tell hector, while stuffing the chips in your mouth. you would probably die if anyone saw you like this, but it’s only hector, he’s seen you your worst times. even though he’s marc’s best friend, he never told him anything when you would talk about him. that’s why you can talk so openly with him about anything, he just won’t tell anyone. “then why don’t you get back with him?” hector asks. a knock on the door cuts in your conversation. “y/n?” you hear marc’s voice, making hectors mouth drop in a gasp.

shit, this looks so wrong right now, with hector laying in your bed as well as yourself. you walk over to the door, opening it a tiny bit to see his sad looking face. he genuinely looks like he’s sorry. you look back to hector that sits dumbfound in your bed. “who’s in there?” marc asks. you shake your head. “no one.” you answer way too quick. he pushes open your door, revealing hector that is sat on your bed. you look him in the eyes to see an hint of reaction, but he doesn’t show any.

“why is he here?” marc asks, way too calm, it’s almost scaring you. “we just talked.” you say your eyes meeting with the ground, mentally preparing yourself for the yelling. “okay.” he just nods. you look up at him, a furrow on your face. have you heard that right? “can i talk to you..alone?” marc scratches the back of his head, nervously. you nod following him out.

“did you fuck him?” woah straight to it marc! also what the fuck? “what the fuck, no!” you exclaim. “okay.” he nods. “marc, can you explain yourself other than replying with an “okay”. why are you here?” he just keeps head low. he almost looks like.. he’s intimidated by you.

“i wanted to apologise.” he finally looks at you. suddenly hector comes out of your room. he points to the door awkwardly, mentioning he’s gonna leave. you give him a smile before looking back at marc.

“marc..” you start. “no please, don’t say anything, just hear me out. i shouldn’t have talked to you the way that i did. it was stupid of me to take everything out on you, because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and i would never want you to feel guilty of something that i did. i understand that you probably never wanna talk to me again, but i just need to make sure that despite what i said, you know that i love you.” something in the way he’s saying it makes you believe him, but you’re not sure if you can forgive him so soon.

but fuck, he has no right to look this good right now, you’re supposed to be mad at him! his lips plump and red from the way he’s been biting on them nervously, his biceps broad and strong as he crosses his arms and his eyes looking lowly down on you. how can you be mad at him, when he looks like that? “you’re on probation, i guess.” marc’s eyes light up. “what’s that supposed to mean? please. are you ever going to forgive me?” he asks, needing to know. “like i said, you’re on probation.” you reply, getting closer to him. “that isn’t a yes, y/n. do i need to get on my knees and beg for you?” you can’t help but smirk. “getting on your knees wouldn’t be such a bad idea, actually.”

“fucking hell, well we can always make that happen, ma.” his hand makes its way to your waist, pulling you onto him. in a matter of seconds his lips are on your’s. he tightens his hands on your waist and runs the other up your back, pressing you harder into his chest. your hands move in his hair, pulling him closer, if that’s even possible. he parts your lips with his tongue, to deepen the kiss. his hand on your waist loosens and trails down the side of your body, until he turns it to grab your ass. he lets out a low groan, bringing his other hand also down on your ass. you pull on his bottom lip slightly, making him smile in the kiss before reconnecting them again.

he squeezes your butt, muttering a quick “jump.” before picking you up and carrying you to your bed. he sits down, your legs each spread as you straddle him. he grips your hips, moving them back and forth so you’ll grind on him.

he groans as you feel his dick twitching under your cunt. he unbuttons his pants, making you slide your hand in them to feel his hard and veiny dick. you always forget how big he is.

he groans, taking your hand out of his boxers. “i want to make you feel good.” can he get any hotter? you smile at him, while dropping beside him on the bed. he lifts your arms before taking off your top and throwing it on the ground. he begins sucking and kissing your neck, most likely in order to cause hicky’s so everyone knows who you belong to, but it feels too good right now, to care about. his hand slides down to your loose pyjama shorts, touching your clit. you let out a whimper. you forgot how well he knew what you liked. “you look so good, ma.” he now kisses your tits also sucking on them like a newborn.

his mouth moves back on your’s, when he slides his cold fingers into your shorts, forming goosebumps on your skin. he immediately finds your hole pushing his fingers inside of you without an warning. he keeps stretching your walls, causing you to moan in his mouth. you part your mouth in the kiss, marc taking the opportunity to bite on your button lip, tasting your cherry flavoured lipgloss. he plumps his fingers in and out of you, whispering sweet words in your ear, in order to show his love for you.

his mouth moves from your face, down to your body, where you need him the most. he starts eating you out like his live depends on it licking and sucking in all your juices. you push his head deeper in your cunt, needing to feel him deeper. “marc i need your dick, please.” you moan. he looks up to you, eyes glistening, having waited for you to say that. as soon as the words left your mouth, he instantly turns you around, having your face meet with the pillow. he pulls your pants down, following with his own. you turn your head to watch him pull out his dick. lord, you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to his size.

he stretches your cunt as he slides into you, having you bite in the pillow in order to not let embarrassing sounds out of you. he fills you up moving, his dick in and out of you. your eyes almost fall to the back of your head, from rolling them as he fucks into you relentlessly. “fuck, so tight, ma.” he groans. you move your ass up, for yourself to feel him deeper, according to the fact he isn’t fully in you yet. “fuck, y/n. if you do that one more time i’m gonna come.” he curses.

he buries his dick deeper inside of you, his balls hitting your butt, making you whine of pleasure. he spanks your ass, fastening his peace. “marc!” you cry, as you feel him hitting your g spot. he moves rapidly, squeezing your waist. your legs begin shaking, signalling marc that, you’re gonna come. “do it.” he demands. with a cry, you cum around his cock, making him twist inside of you and pull out, coming on your belly.

he breathes heavily, his sweaty chest rising and falling with each breathe he takes. “fuck.” he mutters before getting up to take a towel from your bathroom. you look on your cum covered stomach, then back at marc that’s coming back with the towel. he smiles slightly, as he wipes it all off of you. “how are you?” he goes to lay beside you, his arms naturally finding their way to your waist, hugging you. “for a person that won’t be able to walk for the next hours, i’m doing great actually.” he laughs, pecking your shoulder.

[hellonearthtoday]

double posting in one night because I'm awesome and unstoppable. read more if you want to be bombared by my warrior cat au

CAT JALLY IS HERE!!!! Idk why Dallys mom chose his dork ass name in the og but he's named very blatantly after the state/city here. He's bounced around different locations a lot, especially for how young he is. He's been in Texas, New York, and now Oklahoma. He hitchhiked in people's cars to get place to place, before eventually settling down in Oklahoma once he got situated w homegang.

Dally and Johnny are actually THEE dynamic duo here. Dally is farrrr more hype about sparring and fighting than Johnny is, like that freak lives and breathes it, (he likes winning) but Johnny still kicks ass because Dally trained him. Johnny has like has a sleeper build because he's constantly hunched over like a crinkled plastic bag so they don't ever expect it when he leaps at them like a sugar glider and starts scratching the shit out of them

Johnny doesn't really like sparring at all because he doesn't like hurting his buddies, and Johnny literally has only two modes and it's passive or actually rabid so he always reflexively holds back when they try and spar with him since he cant be normal about sparring. So he just ends up literally standing there doing nothing. Imagine those videos of goats just freezing. Or opposums playing dead

He can play fight with the others fine, but he can only really spar for real with Dally because he's not afraid of hurting him. What I'm trying to say is Johnny hones in on beating the enemy whenever he fights and he literally can't multitask. he's LOCKED in

Johnny mostly tag teams w Pony because first of all Pony is not doing that shit alone and SECONDD of all, while Dal and him DO fight good together, Johnny tried sending him A Look one time mid battle and Dally didn't get it and asked if he was abt to cough up a hairball. Then Dally was body slammed by the guy behind him Johnny was trying to warn him about

Johnny tried explaining what he did afterwards and Dally said that shit was stupid and Johnny mumbled smthin abt "Pony would get it😒😒😒" he was low-key embarrassed though

[dicknouget]

Twins Au: The Revelation

Presenting my addition to @pilot-boi's Twins AU. This was a section that they already wrote about but I wanted to turn it into a full piece.

Enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There it was again. The faint sting that haunted her since childhood. This time it was on the left side of her face, across her cheekbone. Along with the pain, Yang felt a slight anger build up inside.

Why? Why was she angry?

Was it because of this phantom pain that’s followed her for all these years? Or was this even anger, was it just frustration?

Leaving the Public Relations elective, she chose at the recommendation of Professor Goodwitch and her team, Yang made her away, alongside her partner, Blake Belladonna, to the cafeteria. While it was a useful class, and one that she had openly admitted to needing, one con she faced daily was the journey across the Beacon campus to the lunchroom. Mentally she was praying that Ruby, or their sister team, JNPR had found a place for both teams to enjoy their food.

“-ng. Yang.”

Yang snapped out of a daze she didn’t even realize she was in. She turned and saw Blake with a concerned expression.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah.” Yang replied, rubbing her cheek. “That stinging pain came back.”

“Ruby mentioned that it’s been with you a while, is it related to your semblance?”

“I doubt it,” Yang sighed, looking forward again. “I’ve felt it even BEFORE dad unlocked my aura. Originally, I thought it was growing pains, but now it HAS to be something else.”

The pair rounded a corner into the main hallway of Beacon. Students were still flowing out of classrooms, signalling to the pair that they still had time before the lunch line closed.

“You might want to consider checking in with Beacon’s aura specialist.” Blake suggested. “Like you said, you had this before you had your aura unlocked. It isn’t that far-fetched to say that those were actual growing pains. This could be something related to your aura or even your semblance.”

“How could this be attached to my semblance?”

“I’d recommend going to the specialist to get a better understanding, but from what I remember, semblances can evolve, by either adding onto or changing how they behave.”

Yang stayed silent, considering that option. It never crossed her mind that it could actually be aura or semblance related. Anytime it was mentioned, it was dismissed due to the pains she felt when she was aura less.

Yang winced again. The pain struck her right hip. Determination was soon mixed in with the previous frustration.

“There it is again,” Yang shot out. “It’s like I’m getting slammed in a brawl.”

“Do you want to head to the infirmary? I could grab you some food?”

“I might go after lunch. The pains don’t usually last long anyway.”

The two were closing in on the entrance to the Beacon cafeteria, when they started to hear a roar and saw other students rush in. The pair looked at each other and followed suit.

Pushing through the crowd, Yang spotted Ruby, and vaguely heard her yell something towards the spectacle. Making her way over she saw what, or rather who, was at the center of attention.

It was Jaune and Cardin.

Of course it was. Conflict followed those two like bad luck to her uncle.

Off to the side of the semi-circle sat the rabbit faunus that Cardin and his lackey’s routinely tormented, Velvet, Yang remembered.

“Vomit boy finally snapped huh?” Yang asked her sister.

“Yeah, although Cardin’s landed a couple hits on Jaune.” Ruby answered, before cupping her hands around her mouth. “KICK HIS BUTT JAUNE!”

“ARC YOU BETTER NOT LOSE!”, came an authoritative voice from beside Ruby. Yang looked over her sister, and saw the Ice Queen herself, hands acting as a megaphone around her own mouth.

Noticing the new arrivals, she dropped her hands, and turned to face them.

“Just because I keep rejecting him, doesn’t mean I want him to lose. Especially to Cardin of all people.”

“What ever you say Weiss.”

Weiss stomped and pouted, causing the blonde to snicker. Yang was pulled from her laughter when Ruby grabbed her and pointed back at the brawl.

“Yang… Look at Jaune.” Came an almost whisper from her sister, as Yang followed her gesture.

Taking a proper gaze at Jaune it was plain to see he was getting his ass handed to him, and someone, either from his team or outside, would need to help him. But that’s not what caught her attention, nor was it what caused the siblings to freeze.

Jaune’s face was bruised, and by the looks of it, Cardin landed a hit on the left side of Jaune's face, judging by the discolouration. Yang raised her hand to touch her cheekbone and pressed on it. The knight winced and Yang pulled away, before following Ruby’s finger and the air escaped her lungs.

It was his eyes.

The ocean blue eyes that both teams were used to, were no longer there.

They were filled with determination, rage, and confusion. Confused as to how someone could hate another based off their race, especially at an institution where they were learning to fight creatures of darkness. Rage at the injustice performed against a classmate and a soon to be comrade in arms. Determination to live up to his family’s heroic legacy, and end the injustice brought on by a fellow classmate.

The ocean blue eyes of Jaune’s kindness, dorkiness, and goofball appearance was replaced by those of fiery passion, to aid in his ability to fight for what’s right.

His eyes…

His eyes…

His... eyes…

His... eyes...

Had turned red.

Not just any red.

HER red. The red of a Branwen.

[1ightsen]

Maxie Infodump #1 - Little known character details from official media

I promised to post some of my maxie infodumps and headcannons, and I think I'll start it off with something simple. His official character bio that was hosted originally on the first release of ORAS (this will be ORAS Maxie focused)

here is a transcript for easy reading: "Maxie is the leader of Team Magma, the team seeking a world ideal for humanity. He pays attention to even the smallest of details, and is quite sensitive in some regards. He has a habit of describing situations in numerical terms. He possesses a cool-headed outlook, thinking that some sacrifices cannot be avoided if he is to achieve his goals." Okay, so first, after looking at the original japanese version of this page,

小さいことまで細かく気にする、神経質なところがあり、さまざまなことを数字を交えてあらわすのが口癖。 目的を果たすためなら、犠牲が出ても仕方ないと考える冷徹な思想の持ち主でもある。 The one word in here I wanted to be sure of was 'sensitive' since it can have many meanings, and the original japanese gives us some possibilities with:

Personally I think (being) highly strung is the most likely option here, but either way its an interesting character trait. And we all know he certainly builds up frustration and tension and explodes a bit like a volcano. Even if he does manage to correct himself afterwards.

~ ANYWAYS ~

Now that we have the bio, let's break it down a little and look at some fun examples of it in action! Maxie has a habit of describing situations in numerical terms. This typically comes out more when he is nervous or stressed. Here are some examples: Ill just take ORAS as an example here since this is already getting pretty long... In ORAS after fighting him at mt chimney, he lets you know in a specific numerical way, how much he fell behind:

And then again, when you battle with him and lose in the Battle Resort where he just has to let you know the situation in numerical terms by giving you the exact lose chance according to his own calculations of course:

"So the great Maxie has fallen, even when battling alongside your team... I shall commit this curious phenomenon to memory. It had less than a 1 percent probability of occurring, you know."

this culminates in a really interesting interaction between him and courtney after the delta episode. While It's pretty clear that Maxie cares for his team and especially his admins, he definitely struggles when faced with his crying admin, and being unsure of what to say, he settles with a numerical quantifier again.

He assesses the situation, and decides to comment on how MUCH courtney is crying. His "paying attention to even the smallest details" trait also ties into this habit of his, and is probably why he jumps to conclusions a little too early because of small things he's noticed. Accusing Tabitha of wanting his spot as leader, just because he disagreed with him is one of those situations.

Pokemon Masters EX has a lot of new scenes with Maxie, and I would love to talk all day about them, but I'll just pick out one here, and that's from the "A pasio Spectacle" event. In this event, Maxie overhears team break members simply say the word 'glasses' and instantly jumps to the conclusion that not only did they want to talk to him, but that they noticed his "magnificent mega glasses" and would like to hear a lecture on how they were scientifically made.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZmmaf9bhD8&t=144s here's a link to watch it, its worth it :D He certainly picks up on small details, but tends to miss the bigger picture sometimes, which is fun because I believe archie tends to do the opposite. Perhaps his mega glasses are actually designed to reflect this, because they work like horse blinders, and keep maxie looking straight ahead (trust me, I've made a pair of these, and you cannot see someone standing to your immediate side). Looking straight ahead is also relevant to his life goal, of ensuring the bright future of humanity, and as he says: "propel humanity to greater heights of progress and evolution." And that concludes my infodump regarding this one little bio that is no longer available without the wayback machine, and I just wanted to share it with any other Maxie fans out there :D Next I think I might tackle the bigger topic of how Archie and Maxie have so many fun contrasts in personality and more. and then maaayyybe I'll feel comfortable enough sharing my headcannons and theories. But only if people want more lol, I am not good at writing big posts :>

[ollypopwrites]

From Depths Unknown ; Part 3

Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Ao3

Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.

Rating: E

Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Language, Canon-typical violence (there is a lot discussion of blood and injuries in this chapter), Major Character Death, Sexual Content (mostly just horny thoughts), background Bloodweave.

Chapter Summary:

Not even Moonrise Tower nor the Shadowcursed land had been this hectic. They dodged rains of incredible fire from dragons, psionic blast from nautiloids and falling debris from buildings crashing around them. Fighting their way through an army of cultists, mindflayers and intellectual devourers, her team felt as united as ever. Everyone felt the finality of it.

Notes: I wanted some whump, okay? I promise they will fuck eventually.

“Rolan? Really? I thought he hated your guts.” 

“You haven’t seen him pining from afar?” Shadowheart asked dramatically. 

“Honestly, Tav, he’s a decent bloke,” Wyll said. “A bit rough around the edges —“

“A bit?!” Karlach protested. 

“Alright, quite rough around the edges,” Wyll amended.

“And pompous,” Shadowheart added. 

“Completely up his own ass,” Karlach agreed.

“Alright!” Tav said, “I’ve told you all, nothing happened.” 

Her and Rolan had been camp gossip from the moment they had walked into their suite; Tav had a hangover and a strong need for coffee, while Rolan was stiff with embarrassment at the questioning looks from her companions. He couldn’t stay long, but they had food and tea and coffee, which was the least she could offer him. She remembered most of the night: the crying, yelling and him having to arrange a makeshift bed for her. As it was embarrassing as it was, she felt a little better getting it all off of her chest. The details were fuzzy, but she knew she had come on to him. While nothing untoward had happened, the camp only saw their leader come through the doors looking bedraggled with an equally out of sorts tiefling wizard. Tongues had been sent wagging immediately. 

“But you do fancy him, don’t you?” Karlach asked. 

She took a deep breath. “Can we focus on the task at hand?” 

“Only after you admit you want to shag the grumpy wizard,” Shadowheart teased. 

“Fine, fine!” Tav felt like tearing out her hair. “Yes, yes I like him. Okay. Can we move on now?” 

“Sheesh,” Karlach breathed. “Take him to bed, mate. You need it.”

She didn’t need Karlach to tell her that. She pushed on, ignoring them. Wyll, however, caught up quickly to her. 

“I won’t lie to you, my friend, he hasn’t made the best impression,” he told her. “But he’s truly a good man.” 

“I know that.” 

“So, are you going to come clean about what happened on the roof then?” He was grinning, boyish and mischievous. 

“Not you too, Wyll, please you were my last hope.”

Her only saving grace was that they found their way to an unusual engineer named Redhammer and his submersible, which happened to be the same culprit that had killed one the the priestesses of Umberlee. While she had half agreed to kill or hand him over if she found him, he offered an opportunity to find the hostage Gondians in the Iron Throne. Tav decided to take some inspiration from Astarion, using him to get down to the Iron Throne before she ultimately left his fate up to Umberlee's order. She thought she should have felt guilty, but he had been so casual about killing the priestess and transporting hostages she found herself lacking any real remorse. After the tadpole was out of her head, she thought she may have to reassess her moral compass. 

After saving the Gondians, Duke Ravengaurd himself and their old friend Omeluum she was happy to be alive and not blown to bits at the bottom of the Chionthar. The priestesses of Umberlee had even rewarded them with a beautiful robe in exchange for finding Redhammer. Gale was the only other person it would have been suited for and he was too embarrassed to wear it despite the entire camp teasing him about it. It was a bit risqué, but when Tav slipped it on she felt it cling to her body and the strange fabric was so damn comfortable she felt as if it were a second skin. She quite liked it. 

They made their way to Sorcerer’s Sundries, knowing the next day would be their chance to finish up the infiltration of the Steelwatch Foundry. Tav was sure Gortash would not bring the Steelwatch down on them right away. The last thing he needed was his army of metal titans tearing apart the city to find them, civilians would inevitably get hurt and then they would get angry. Gortash needed a city scared but ready to cling to a tyrant that could keep them safe, not ready to revolt for stepping on their children. They had to move, but she wanted to let him sweat and take time to get ready for their final push. 

The foundry, the hammer, the last Netherstone. Then the brain. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel. 

Rolan was rarely in the shop these days. His mirror image had taken his position at the counter, helped along by the other specialists and Cal or Lia. Tav made her way upstairs; despite her pride she owed Rolan thanks for the night before and an apology for the teasing her friends had thrown his way in the wake of it. And she wondered if he’d like her new robes. It was silly, and pointless in the face of everything else that was going on but the desire was there, hiding behind her ‘noble’ reasons for disturbing him in the middle of the day. She made her way through the portal which led to the study Rolan was now using as his own office throughout the day. The blood, ash and bodies had all been cleared away — the decadent room was still in process of being redone to Rolan’s standards but it had come a long way since Lorroakan’s death. 

“Rolan?” She called. 

“A minute, please,” he replied from the balcony. 

Tav rolled her eyes, muttering about wizards and their books. She strolled about the room. He seemed to be in the process of organizing tomes, one of the animated suits of armor was picking up a stack piled on the ground and taking it through another portal. She recalled him mentioning a library, and wanting to cultivate his own favorites for the study. It was his, now, after all. 

“Please tell me you didn’t wear that into battle?”

When he had heard Tav’s voice carry through the study, he noted a lack of distinct irritation at being interrupted. Another sign that Tav was becoming worryingly exempt from his usual ‘prick-ish particularities’ as Cal had so kindly put it. He had just seen her that morning and as awkward as breakfast had been amongst her companions, he had to force himself to finish putting books on the shelf before heading down the stairs. He needed to retain some of his dignity, after all, despite his desire to eagerly stop everything he was doing at the sound of her voice. Tav waited for him below, and as usual, he took a mental note of any new injuries she may have acquired.

Robes with pieces of protective gear was what she normally wore. Soft leathers and sturdy cotton robes, with something to protect her vulnerable points. Even out of armor she usually only wore a simple tunic and cloth pants. His surprise to find her at the center of his study in an outfit that was all flesh and skin tight fabric made him stop in his tracks. The light blue ensemble clung to every curve, dipped low between her breasts (that damned pearl dangling at the center of her chest matched well with this new outfit, he noted), and was slit at the legs so all he saw was skin bared up to a concerning height on her thighs. Her worn leather boots stuck out, not quite fitting in with the sleek outfit, but that did nothing to preserve him from staring dumbly. 

His momentary gawking was interrupted when he realized this scrap of fabric was meant to be armor. All the soft spots of her were exposed to cuts and bruises. 

“Please tell me you didn’t wear that into battle?”

“You don’t like it?”

“That’s hardly the point I’m trying to make,” he said quickly. 

“Then what is the point?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “You can’t wear that in a fight. It’s…” 

Ravishing. So easy to slide aside so I could have any part of you I wanted, he thought. 

“Impractical.” He said aloud. 

“And you decide what I wear now?”

“No,” he replied through grit teeth. “Of course not.”

“Well, I like it.” Tav shrugged him off, turning away and walking around to look at his progress in the study. 

The dress was just as tight in the back, he noticed, his mind reeling and his pulse thrumming. “Where did you even get it?”

“It was a gift from the priestesses of Umberlee,” she said. 

“And what, pray tell, did you do to earn it?” 

“Freed some hostages in a prison at the bottom of the Chionthar and found the man who killed one of their order.” She listed casually. “Duke Ravenguard was down there, if you can believe it. And then Archduke Gortash, magnanimous man that he is, tried to blow us up,” her tone dripped with sarcasm, “it’s been quite a day.”

“Your usual heroics, then,” he grit out. 

“Of course,” she grinned, and everything about the smile was a challenge, a tease, and he was certain he never wanted her so badly. “I know you love to hear about my gallantry. Not bad for a girl who started the day with a terrible hangover, I think.”

“Is there a point to your visit?” He asked tersely. 

“Actually, yes,” she finally came up to him. 

Close enough to touch. The fabric looked soft, and shimmery, probably pleasant enough to run his hands over but the exposed space between her breasts seemed particularly ripe for licking. His jaw clenched as he made the Herculean effort to look her in the eyes. The teasing look she had before was gone, something a little more bashful and sweet. It only made it harder to keep his hands to himself. 

“I wanted to say thank you for last night.” She said, “I don’t remember all of it… but I know I was not at my best. Thanks for putting up with me, and sorry my friends are busybodies.” 

Rolan didn’t know what to say. A whirlwind was inside him. Pure want and affection. Irritation at said want and affection. Irritation at himself for not being able to just say what he wanted to. This was all getting entirely out of hand. 

“How is your arm?”

“My….arm?”

“You’re still scarred, from that ring you so foolishly put on when you had no idea what it did,” he snapped. 

“Oh, that,” she deflated. “Fine. Just these marks,” she pushed back the sleeves of the robe to look at them. “Gale thinks it was some kind of connection to the elemental plane.” At his responding silence she shifted awkwardly. “Okay,” she drew out the word, “I’m going to go.” 

“Goodbye.”

He stayed to watch her go, eyes glued to the way the robes clung to her bottom, the shift of the fabric and delicate metalwork over her exposed legs. 

“You can’t wear that,” he blurted out. “Not in battle. You’ll be ripped to shreds.”

And so would the robe itself, which would be a terrible shame in and of itself, the more he thought about it.

“You said that already.” 

“It bears repeating.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Rolan.” 

As she stepped through the portal and he was left alone he groaned, rubbing both hands over his face, as he muttered to himself, “you’re going to kill me you meddlesome, irritating, beautiful woman.” 

While there had been little notice before the Netherbrain broke free and started unleashing terror on the city, Tav had at least warned her allies ahead of time that it could happen any day at any time. With Rolan’s permission, Counselor Florrick had spread the word that the tower was going to be one point of haven in the city. It had protections and wards, and plenty of space. When all hells broke loose, Cal and Lia were holding down the fort while he made his way to High Hall. Thankfully most of the fighting was happening in the upper city, but mind flayers were running rampant, the sky was red with fire, full of errant blasts from nautiloids and dragons. 

He sent civilian healers as he found them to the tower, instructing them to take whoever they could with them. The high hall was crowded, Flaming Fists taking account of all the allies of Tav’s which had gathered. Many of them he recognized, some he had never seen before, but his heart swelled with pride at the gathering of people who were ready to support Tav and her friends. 

When she came through the door with all her camp in tow, smattered in blood, as she always was, he thought she may cry at the showing. There wasn’t much time, but she took a moment to appraise them of her plan. Her entire party would take the main push to the brain, along with the illithid she had with her. There was no time to explain, she only assured them that this person — Orpheus, was on their side. She needed anyone she did not call to her side to focus on protecting the few points of refuge they had managed to secure in the city, and above all to keep as many civilians safe as possible. She was given means to summon her allies as needed.

As Tav made the quick effort to offer thanks to everyone individually, he felt the terror of it being the last time he saw her. This was not the Tav which he’d had drinks with at the Elfsong every night leading up to this battle, laughing with her friends, carefree for just a few hours. This was the woman who had lead four people to victory against a small army of Goblins, who stormed Moonrise towers and lifted the curse over Reithwin. Focused, determined and if she was scared it never once showed on her face. Only the storm dancing behind her eyes, calm before she exploded into action. 

Rolan had to believe the next time he’d see her, she would be relaxed and teasing him about something over a glass of wine. As she approached him last, before heading out to save the city, he bolstered himself to be whatever she and the rest of the people of Baldur’s Gate needed. 

“The tower is ready, you need only call.” He told her swiftly. 

“Thank you.” She nodded. “Rolan, I — “ she bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut. “If I survive this —“

“You will,” he said certainly. 

“If I do,” she repeated, eyes boring into his with earnesty he hardly knew how to deal with, “would you like to join me for a bottle of Arabellan Dry?”

“Are you asking me on a date? Right now?” As if to punctuate his point the ground shook, horrible screeching sounds and the roar of a dragon sounded out. 

“Might be my last chance,” she breathed. 

“It won’t be,” he insisted. If she was going to be bold enough to ask him out for a drink before running off to certain death — he had to rise to the challenge. He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. “You’ll come back to me, gloriously and infuriatingly victorious.”

If he said it confidently enough it may just come true. It had worked for him before.

Tav nodded, squeezing his hand in hers. She hesitated, but there was little time for more to be said. She suddenly began to dig under the collar of her armored robes with her free hand. After fidgeting for a moment with something around her neck she held out the chain of the necklace which held her Pearl of Power. 

“Can you hold onto it for me? I don’t want to lose it again.” 

“You may need it,” he was unsure what else to say. 

“Already used it today,” she said, “it’s just sentimental right now. And just — hold onto it. Please.” 

Tav took his hand and placed the necklace into his palm, gently curling his fingers over it. It was such a small trinket, but the implications of her leaving it with him made it feel immeasurably valuable. He thought he would rather die than let it come to any harm. The dramatics of such a train of thought struck him so violently with the realization that he was undoubtedly in love. The terrible timing for such an epiphany was only emphasized by a loud boom on the roof and the shudder of dust and small bits of debris raining down on them.

Tav let go of his hand and with a determination in her eye he knew all too well, led her party out into the midst of terror with no other word. 

There was no time to stop. 

Not even Moonrise nor the Shadowcursed land had been this hectic. They dodged rains of incredible fire from dragons, psionic blast from nautiloids and falling debris from buildings crashing around them. Fighting their way through an army of cultists, mindflayers and intellectual devourers, her team felt as united as ever. Everyone felt the finality of it. She had seen Astarion and Gale share what they thought might possibly be their last kiss. Watching them felt like an intrusion, but the glance she had gotten of desperate softness in their eyes made her more determined than ever. Tav silently vowed that she would come out of this with everyone alive and ready to begin anew. 

When they finally found the  stalk of the Elderbrain it led higher and higher up over the city. She felt the adrenaline spurring her to start to climb, and she didn’t have to look behind her to know they followed. At the top it was an onslaught of psionic forces: the netherbrain, the illithids it commanded, and the tadpoles in their heads revolting at every move they made to fight against them. There were moments that blanked out, as she was stunned or her head hurt so badly she felt she couldn’t see. They were all moving on pure instinct to survive. 

Karlach’s rage was an unstoppable force, Lae’zel cut down anyone in her path with brutal efficiency, and the only thing more intense than the amount of healing magic Shadowheart was expending was the force with which she brought down her mace. Jaheira and Halsin were in charge of summoning reinforcements as needed, controlling the battlefield with Druidic magic while Gale sent off spell after spell with devastating effect. Astarion and Wyll danced around the battlefield; Wyll’s combined magic and skill with the blade making him virtually untouchable while Astarion flitted in and out of visibility, daggers digging into flesh with deadly accuracy. 

And she exploded with magic. 

Her arm hurt, the flowing lines of whatever had touched her when she put on that ring in the tower glowed and raged as she gave everything she had. When she felt she had nothing left, it fed her new power, keeping a steady stream of lightning ready to strike. There was not a lot of time to think on this new development, only time to acknowledge that whatever it did to her, her magic was thriving on it. Her magic felt centered for the first time in her life. Controllable, not just something she was barely wrangling and flinging around blindly. 

The last push to the crown was upon them. The way just needed to be cleared, she called to Halsin over the clamor of it all, tadpole transmitting to the others her plan. In truly rumbling cacophony explosions rained down, almost clearing their path. For a moment she took in the show of power from Ramazith’s Tower, but they had to bolt forward. 

Lae’zel took the lead, attacking an illithid arcanist guarding the portal they needed to get into. Gale was quick behind her, magic missiles firing off in every direction and counterspell quickly cast afterwards. Karlach was keeping the way clear, as more illithid were summoned, hacking at tentacled heads until they rolled off. Tav took off for the portal, only to come face to face with her father. 

No. It was her dream guardian. The Emperor’s trick. 

When she had first seen the man in her dreams she had thought the same thing: he was just similar looking enough to her dear old dad to get her guard down but not so identical it would ring off alarm bells in her mind. Tav’s father was dead, after all, the Emperor had toed the line of familiarity on purpose. The single moment of hesitation was enough for the guardian to blast her with psionic energy, knocking her off of her feet.  An intellect devourer took its chance and leapt onto her. Searing pain spread through her abdomen as claws dug in and tore. It was climbing up her body, ripping skin with every step. Her arm was pinned underneath one of its horrid legs, unable to cast, and she felt the thunderous pulse in her chest, the tingle of electricity in her veins — and then a dagger came down stopping the devourer in its tracks.

Astarion was above her, kicking the thing off of her. With a cry she felt the claws slip loose, blood pouring out of the wounds. The pain slipped away to the back of her mind as she flung forward, hands outstretched  when a chain of lightning erupted at another dream guardian which tried to stop Gale. Astarion helped her to her feet, shoving a meager healing potion at her. It was not enough to close the wounds, but it gave her a rush of new vitality and they ran for the portal

This was it. This was the final task. All they had to do was survive long enough to take out the Netherbrain. 

After setting off the blasts at Halsin’s command, Rolan had launched himself halfway down the stairs, nearly stumbling and stepping on his own tail. There were a handful of Flaming Fists, armed civilians, Cal, Lia and even Aradin guarding the perimeter of the tower; he had to go join them. The store was always chaotic with all the summons wandering around and magical effects but this was a different vein of mayhem. Anyone he could find with healing magic along the way was running around, people were screaming and crying on the floors and any clear surface available. 

It sounded like Elturel. 

Shaking his head of the thought, he pushed through the doors. People were still running, trying to get through the doors of the tower and whatever building still stood to get away from the carnage. The square was full of bodies and blood and rubble. He spotted Cal and Lia, both alive and fighting well. Cal’s swing was strong, Lia’s aim was impeccable — he was able to focus on casting. An illithid floated forward, chasing after a meal of one of the Flaming Fists' brains, Rolan quickly cast color spray, confusing the creature and shortly after one of Lia’s arrows sunk into its elongated head.

Cal got stunned, his head in his hands as he wobbled on his feet, two mindflayers floating towards him. Rolan nearly tripped over his robes to grab his brother by his shirt and pull him back, Cal fell and as soon as he was out of the line of attack Rolan felt the boom of thunder erupt from his hand. The illithids were sent backwards, landing on their back, prone. 

“Cal,” he turned to offer a hand to his brother, “stay steady.” 

“Yeah,” Cal grunted, shaking his head free of the psionic force which had stunned him. “I’m good, I’m alright.” 

“Rolan! Incoming!” 

Lia’s voice called out before she let an arrow loose. His eyes flicked to the sky, a nautiloid was overhead, a beam of some sort beginning to glow with energy. 

“To me! Now!”

Aradin and anyone nearby enough to hear him huddled close, Rolan swiftly casting an orb of invulnerability. He had never cast it before, not successfully, but it was all he could think of to try. A slight red shimmer created a bubble around them, the nautiloid made its attack. A few people were decimated by the blow immediately outside of the orb, even a ravenous illithid in the middle of extracting a brain from a skull had not made it out of the way in time. The spell worked. Rubble flew into the air with the blast, and stopped bluntly at the barrier. 

Thank the Gods. Rolan thought to himself, sweat beading down his temple. 

Lia ducked in and out of the orb to shoot off arrows, clearing the path for some to make their way to the tower or within the confines of Rolan’s temporary protection. He managed to keep the orb up long enough for the blasts to cede after the nautiloid was distracted from attacking the ground by a Githyanki force of dragon riders. 

“There’s more coming!” Aradin yelled. “We should fall back into the tower.”

“The wards can only take so much,” Rolan snapped back. “Get out there and kill something or get out of the way!”

He never understood Zevlor’s well-known ire for the mercenary more as he fled inside. As he had said, more illithids came out of the woodwork. The alien army had not found it necessary to send any armored mind flayers — relying on the freshly transformed tadpoled masses which had been lurking in the city. They had numbers, but most of them were stark naked, and sloppy in the unusual new bodies. Many of them fell quickly, which was his only comfort against the slowly dwindling numbers of his own allies. If they just kept it up, they could maintain the line of defense around the tower. 

“Come on, Tav,” he heard Lia scream as another Flaming Fist fell to an illithid. “Just kill it already!” 

There was no way for Tav to hear them, but he understood the panic. He felt each second that passed since he set off the blasts from the tower as if it were an hour. They could not keep this up forever, and part of him knew that as intense as it was on the ground, up there where the brain hovered in the air it was ten times worse. 

“Tav needs us to hold strong,” he called to his sister. “We owe her that, at least.” 

Lia was too far away for him to be sure but thought he saw her jaw set in the same way Cal’s did when he was concentrating. His brother felled an illithid in one blow, clean and easy at the neck. 

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Cal said, “but Rolan is right!”

It truly was the end of the world.

When Tav hit the water, she blacked out for a moment. Her eyes opened and the gasp that wracked her body filled her mouth and lungs with water as she realized too late in her waking that she was in the Chionthar. She floundered to the surface, hacking and coughing. Once she had her breath, she started screaming for her companions.

“Here!” Gale yelled.

He was not too far off from her, hanging onto some floating debris, with an unmoving lump with white hair. She swam over, grabbing onto the debris. 

“Is he alive?” She panicked. 

“Breathing,” Astarion’s voice was weak, “stop screaming.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Tav felt herself succumbing to the confusion. “Karlach! Have you seen anyone? Wyll!”

“I’ve got Shadowheart and Wyll!” She heard Karlach call, a red spot in the distance, tethering two limp bodies as she kept them on their backs. 

Lae’zel, Halsin, Minsc and Jaheira were still unaccounted for. Tav’s eyes scanned the water, dawn hadn’t broken yet, it was still dark and the depths below were impossible to see into. The only real light was provided by the city which was still very much on fire. Just as Tav was about to give into despair, a giant tentacle broke the water, then another, in its grips was an unconscious Lae’zel, and Minsc who was sputtering and cackling like a madman. Finally a third, and Halsin broke the surface. 

“Minsc! Where’s Jaheira?”

“You look upon her!” He called back. 

Wild shape was one hell of a thing. Tav called to the giant octopus whose eye peered into hers as it breached the surface, telling Jaheira to grab Karlach first as she was treading water and trying to keep two people afloat at the same time. Tav watched, only vaguely hearing Astarion and Gale speaking next to her. She needed to see them all safely put upon the dock, she needed to know she had done it. She hadn’t lost anyone. 

“Stop trying to talk to me,” Astarion muttered. “I’m furious with you.”

“My love, I would have made sure you were transported out of harm's way,” Gale attempted to sooth him. 

“And what about you?” Astarion snapped. “What was I supposed to do without you?” 

She was not quite sure what they were talking about. 

“We were losing, Astarion,” Gale pleaded. “The orb may have been—“

“The orb?” Tav heard her neck crack as she swung her head so fast to look at him. She felt dizzy. 

“He very nearly blew himself up, again,” Astarion seethed. “I saw him reach for the dagger.” 

“Gale!” Tav scolded. “I told you — not an option!”

“Tav, please, if all else failed —“

“But it didn’t!” She yelled. 

“No,” he sighed. “No, it did not. So please, can we make it to land and put this to rest.” 

Just as Tav was about to argue with him, she felt a tug at her midsection, and uncomfortable stinging of pain accompanying the grasp. Astarion and Gale were lifted out of the water by tentacles  at the same time she was and they were being slowly carried to the dock. It was supposed to be over once they all made it on dry land. She had given in to the hope that she had finally led her party to their final battle without losing a single member. The victory was supposed to be sweet, and cathartic. 

The moment they caught their breath on the dock, Karlach’s engine started to fail. 

The main floor of the store was cleared of most furniture to make room for cots full of injured people. Amateur and professional healers alike were running around madly, calling for aid from whoever was still standing. To his credit, he had begun to organize as best he could. It was still chaos, but he was managing to take requests, send off whatever volunteer was nearest to assist, and have Cal take on grabbing potions and herbs from the stores as needed. Rolan was no healer, but he could wrap a wound before too much blood was lost as some poor soul waited for someone to be available. He could also bark orders, arrange for Fists to section off high risk patients from those who could survive without immediate attention. 

There were two surgeons he had managed to recruit. Their space was at the very back near the necromancy supplies were, with a temporary shielding wall of stone. It didn’t drown the screams of agony as they operated but it prevented anyone from witnessing an amputation. 

When the heroes of the hour burst through the door of the tower, even amongst the chaos, Rolan knew something was wrong. They looked like hell. Jaheira was bleeding from a deep wound on her head, Shadowheart was limping, and even Minsc who was always quick to get back on his feet looked like he had been thrown from a twenty story building and felt it. A good chunk of the party was missing. Wyll and Karlach were nowhere to be seen. In fact way too many of them were just gone. Astarion, Gale and Lae’zel didn’t follow, and neither did Tav. Halsin was the very last of them in, carrying someone.

“A bed! Now!” The Archdruid’s voice boomed over the chaos

A humming sound rang in his ears, the entire world pinpointed to the form of the woman in Halsin’s arms as he was directed to place her on a free bed by a Fist. 

Rolan let his feet guide him to her side, a numb feeling keeping panic at bay. On the bed was a bloody mess of a woman, who in all appearances looked like Tav but… That surely wasn’t his Tav. That was an empty shell; the skin had no vibrancy, the only truly bright color was the blood leaking out of the deep wound in her stomach. Her eyes, open staring up at the ceiling, were empty. 

Shadowheart placed her hands over Tav and the glow of her healing magic flashed and ebbed away. She tried again, but the magic stuttered out. Shadowheart let out a strangled scream in frustration, pounding glowing hands into Tav's chest and each rush of power was weaker and weaker.

“What are you doing? Heal her,” Rolan demanded. “Fix her!”

“I can’t —“ Shadowheart’s voice cracked. 

“Shadowheart’s magic is spent,” Jaheira’s tone was sharp but even, the voice of a General. “And healing magic won’t work on her now. This is a magic shop — find a resurrection scroll.” 

Resurrection implied she was dead. Logically, yes, he could see that. Tav was dead, nothing more than spent flesh and blood. But this was not supposed to happen, this was beyond everything he knew of her.

She always survives. She always does the impossible. She can't be dead.

“How did this happen?”

“Rolan,” Shadowheart pleaded his name, disregarding the question, “do you have a resurrection scroll?” 

The buzzing in his ears stopped, the cacophony of the tower coming back to him. A solution that he could focus on. He took off in a sprint, jumping over the counter. His hands shook as he opened the safe where they kept the high value scrolls.  

“Rolan, that Florrick lady is here, she brought some — what’s wrong?”

He didn’t hear Lia come up, and didn’t take the time to acknowledge her as he started reading through the stock. “We must have one.”

“Talk to me,” Lia said again getting his attention, “what’s happened?”

An idea jolted him, there were stores and stores of supplies in the study. “Upstairs, in the study, the scroll collection —“ he quickly said, “we need a resurrection scroll.”

“But —“

“Check the vaults, check the study — find me a resurrection scroll!” 

Taking in his frantic tone, Lia ran off without further question. There was no possible way this was how Tav’s story ended. In a numb haze he remembered what little he knew about healing and divine magic; there was a time limit on a basic resurrection spell. At some point a soul was too far gone and True Resurrection would be the only other option. Plain resurrection scrolls were rare enough as it was, but a True Resurrection scroll was near impossible for most people to get ahold of. 

Chain of lightning, hold person, cloud kill — his hands fumbled to work as fast as he read the scrolls. He had no real idea how much time was passing, but each second was too long. There were dozens of scrolls, and he looked at each one. Finding nothing of use he ran around the counter to start up the stairs.

He should have told her at High Hall. He should have just said it. He should have thought to find a scroll ahead of time for this very purpose. What a cosmic joke, for her to have made it this far, only to die at the finish line. She deserved better. He would make sure she got a better ending than this. He nearly ran into Lia jumping the last few steps of the staircase. 

“I found one!” 

She held up the scroll and he snatched it out of her hand, narrowly dodging a healer as he ran to the bed where Shadowheart was praying desperately. 

“Found — the scroll —“ he stammered out, short of breath. 

“Use it, quickly,” Jaheira said. 

His fingers fumbled with the clasp that held it shut, as it unfurled he knew he needed to breathe through the panic in his chest. He could do an incantation, he could read the words off of a scroll as he had a hundred times before. There was not a God he prayed to usually, not one he thought to plead with specifically. Mystra, maybe. But given what he knew of her and her friends, Mystra might not be so inclined to help Tav. 

His willpower would have to be enough; this was not how her story ended, he repeated to himself. She was too good, too resilient, too kind, too forgiving, too infuriatingly wonderful — too loved.  Rolan was not going to let her disappear that easily, he vowed as he spoke the incantation.

The spell took hold, golden light shuddering Tav’s body, and then disappearing. For a terrifyingly long moment, he was unsure if it worked. But her eyes blinked, at first it looked like a twitch, but then they fluttered a few times and the light was back in them. Her limbs jolted like she had been electrocuted and then a truly shocking deep gasp for air had her sitting up on the cot. 

“There you are, Cub,” Jaheira said, a steady hand on her shoulder which emitted the familiar green light of her Druidic magic. “Didn’t think we’d let you get out of cleaning up, did you?”

“Hurts,” she sucked breaths in desperately. 

“Lay down,” Shadowheart said. “We’ll find a healer.”

“Where —?”

Rolan was frozen to the spot. She still looked so close to death. Her head swiveled over to him, eyes confusedly still searching for some sense of what was going on. 

“You.” Was all she said. 

“Yeah, me,” he breathed. “Lay down. You look awful.”

“Rude,” she wheezed but let herself ease onto her back. “I think you look… good…” exhaustion, pain or any combination of whatever her body was going through had her slipping out of consciousness. 

“Tav,” Rolan panicked, kneeling next to her. “Damn you, stay awake,” he grabbed her face in his hands and she gave him a heavy lidded stare. 

“Trying,” she said. 

She was still in rough shape. Halsin and Jahiera dumped the last dregs of their limited healing magic into her, doing just enough to keep her from bleeding out on the bed once more. Shadowheart tipped her head back for a basic healing potion, and it dribbled down the side of her face but it brought some of the vibrancy of her skin.

“She won’t succumb to the wounds, but she needs healing quickly,” Halsin seemed to be talking to himself more than them, as he took off to find someone to help. 

“You can rest now,” Shadowheart assured her softly. “Right, Rolan?” 

He wasn’t so sure. But Shadowheart was a healer, she knew better than him. He swallowed hard, and nodded. “That’s right.”

“Good,” Tav mumbled, “tired.” 

Shadowheart and Rolan watched as she slipped into unconsciousness. Her chest rose and fell, although shallowly. Shadowheart heaved a big breath, recomposing herself. She looked around the room, and then to Rolan.

“I need to rest, then I’ll be able to help,” she seemed to be telling herself rather than him. “I’ll stay here,” she said, “I’ll stay with her and rest.”

“What can I do?” Rolan asked desperately. 

“You are the Master of Ramazith’s tower,” Jahiera cut in. “This is your city, you have a duty to its people now — unless you wish to follow Lorroakan’s example, get to work.” Jaheira looked down at Tav, “we will look after her, as she has looked after us.”

Rolan never felt more like an outsider, and he felt he should watch whatever healer Halsin found. If only to see for himself that she was truly going to be alright. Shadowheart was watching the rise and fall of her chest with intense focus, and it felt wrong that she was the only one of their original group by her side. 

“Rolan, there’s a fire that they can’t put out over in Heapside,” Cal was there, Rolan hadn’t even heard him approach. 

“There’s summoning scrolls, water elementals,” he said distractedly. 

“Go,” Shadowheart looked at him. “We’ve got her.”

“And that is supposed to be a comfort?” He snapped. “She was dead just moments ago under your watch!”

“She didn’t tell us,” Shadowheart said back, a tone of shame in her raised voice. “Everything was happening so fast — she didn’t tell us she was hurt!”

“No one here is to blame,” Jaheira was annoyed, he could tell by the arch of her brow. “She would tell you the same.”

He felt another comment on the tip of his tongue, ready to rage and yell to do something with the gods awful feeling in his chest. He nearly lost her. 

“Rolan,” Cal said, “we have to —“

“Fine! Fine.” 

The city still needed saving, despite the threat being gone. Who knew how much help was needed across the city. Running to everyone's rescue was what she would tell him to do, but still he was afraid to leave her side. He touched her cheek: warm, alive, despite looking worse than she ever had after a fight. 

“She’ll be alright?” He asked, wincing slightly at the desperate crack in his voice. 

Shadowheart nodded, her hand coming to squeeze his, “I promise, I won’t let her slip away again.”

Rolan had no other choice but to trust her.

Thank you for reading!

Next Chapter

[destielfanfic]

Group Ask #212

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Ask #1 (Anon 1 ): there’s this fic…# 1

It's canon divergent and I think Dean and Cas get together in the middle of it. But it's a case fic where demons are gathering all over and Sam calls a bunch of hunters to the bunker. They split into teams and go to the areas where the demons are gathering. Dean and Cas are a team and they go to this office building and the boss is this lady who is possessed. I really really don't remember much else but there's one part that I recall vividly. Dean and Cas are caught by the demons in the office and tied up. The boss lady tells them that they actually want Sam. Dean asks her if she really expects him to give up his own brother. She says no, but Cas might. Cas says "he's my brother too." And that's basically all I remember. Also, I think Jody ends up rescuing them from the demons. And there's an asshole hunter that one of them punches. Sorry I know this is vague but I've been looking for this fic for months now.

Ask #2 ( ): there’s this fic…# 2

Hi! I’m looking for a fic, and I swear I’ve found it before and now I’ve lost it again, BUT. It’s an AU, that starts in like Roman/grecian times where Dean is captured and Cas (I think Cassius??) is the son of the lord and likes to taunt all the slaves his father’s got. Anyway one day Dean leads a revolt and ends up getting caught and killed for his efforts, and he vows as he’s dying to find cas in the next life. And then! They find each other in the next life!! But this time they’re falling in love! And I cannot for the life of me remember what it’s called or any relevant tags. I know I read it on AO3! Thanks!

Ask #3 ( @forthosethatwonder ): there’s this fic…# 3

Hi! I've been thinking about this fic for a while and I can't seem to find it. It's a very angsty story. I think it takes place in California. Dean and Cas are former foster kids who grew up next to each other. Dean, in a more normal house with Ellen or Missouri, as his parent. Cas was in a house with many other kids and had an abusive foster parent (Azazel/Allistar?) that he eventually has to kill to stop him from hurting the younger children. Cas eventually just disappears from Dean's life, but returns to the home when he finds out that Dean's foster mother is sick or recently died? The fic bounces between past and present. I hope those are the details, it's been a while since I've read it. Hopefully someone can remember what it is. Thank you!

Ask #4 ( @loveagoodstory2 ): there’s this fic…# 4

4.1 Hello I’m looking for a fic I read some time ago. In this story Dean takes a job as Cas companion. He saves Cas at a party by bringing him a phone call. Dean has a bad panic attack in the shower and Gabe helps him. I think Cas owes a security company.

4.2 There is also another one where Dean catches Cas in bed with Meg and it’s so heartbreaking. (He was able to catch them because he was driving a different car) Gabe and Sam are at the divorce proceedings with them because Dean had to go through therapy. Gabe feels bad because he introduced them.

Ask #5 ( @heynow-urarockstar ): there’s this fic…# 5

Hello! Really hoping you can help me find a destiel fic set around season 7. Sam and Dean find Cas from the lake all wounded and take him back to patch him up. Leviathans are after them, Sam keeps seeing Lucifer, and lots of Cas-whump as they move around a bunch. Cas is blind for a majority of the fic. Been looking for it for weeks! I think word count is around 60-100k words.

Ask #6 ( @trueastoast): there’s this fic…# 6

A while back I read a longer kinda slow burn fic where destiel were childhood or highschool friends later turned lovers. They get married later in life and foster to adopt a little girl then when she’s older they foster a troubled preteen boy the Cas thinks might be a lost cause but Dean puts in the work and they bond over past parental trauma and fishing. Wish I could remember the name I just know it was an AU with a sprinkle of internalized homophobia in the beginning of their relationship and disagreements over adoption later. Any tips appreciated!

Other requests

Ask #7 - our follower is looking for a possibly deleted fic, “Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester” by asexualclassicist on AO3.

Ask #8 - our follower is looking for a possibly deleted fic, “I’ve got a Bad Case of Lovin’ you” by HigherMagic.

Ask #9 - our follower is looking for a possibly deleted fic "Castiel's Scars" by Martypom.

It takes a village to find a lost fic, every reblog is appreciated!

[unreliablesnake]

Untitled. Part one.

Summary: Deacon wants to introduce his girlfriend to his kids.

Note: Reader is a fashion model in her twenties. Deacon and Annie only have three kids. To be honest I like him and the reader together and I see potential. I mean, jealousy from Annie's side or her coming up with the idea that Deac is experiencing some midlife crisis, the kids hating/loving her, the team finding out they're together, she gets into trouble and he has to save our protect her...

Warning: age gap, afab!reader.

PS: I told you I can't stop.

Danica, the lead makeup artist of the photo shoot came over to you with a wide grin on her face, quickly sending the others away so she could tell you an important piece of gossip. You returned her smile as you leaned closer to listen, expecting something about the model who caused some chaos by not showing up.

But she remained silent for a little too long, and you began to assume it was about something else. And just like that, your suspicion was proven right when she finally spoke up. “There's a handsome silver fox outside with a police badge and he's looking for you. Jack is trying to convince him to leave if it's not related to an investigation, though, so if he belongs to you…”

“Oh, yes, he's mine,” you were quick to say with a bright smile. “Thanks for the heads-up, I'll talk to Jack.”

She nodded before gently patting you on the shoulder, giving you the green light to leave. Your makeup was done, it was only your hair that they had to finish before you could stand in front of the camera. They could surely survive five minutes without you, so you rushed out of the building to find your boyfriend and hopefully tell the head of security that there was nothing to worry about.

When your eyes finally fell on Deacon, you couldn't help but gulp from the sight. He was wearing a suit, something you always pointed out looked good on him, and when he noticed you, his face immediately lit up. You had been together for three months now, so this was probably the honeymoon phase making you this happy around each other, but you truly hoped things would stay this way.

His marriage ended shortly before you met thanks to Chris, and back then he wasn't ready to make a move on someone. But months later you met again on a night out with the team and he finally made up his mind to ask for your number. Long story short, he swept you off your feet with ease, and even the age difference wasn't enough to stop you from being happy together.

“Jack, he's with me. Can you let him in?” you asked with a sweet smile.

The man let out a sigh then gestured to him that he was allowed to enter the premises under your watch. Deacon leaned down to kiss the top of your head, already knowing better than to ruin your makeup, then took your hand and led you a little further away from people.

“Don’t get me wrong, I'm glad you're here, but why did you come? Did something happen?” you asked worriedly.

He was quick to reassure you with a shake of his head. “I just wanted to see you. But there's a change in the plans. Annie called; something came along and I'll have the kids over tonight,” he told you.

If he had the kids over, it meant your planned date had to be canceled. It sucked, but you were okay with it. His kids would always come first, and you liked that about him. He loved them more than anything, and it was nice to see how well he and his ex got along after the divorce. Were you jealous of their relationship? Yes, some days it was hard, but you knew they had a history together. You can't delete so many years with a piece of paper that proved you weren't together anymore.

“Raincheck?”

Deacon's smile returned as he watched you. “No. Come over tonight and meet the kids,” he suggested casually. You bit on your lower lip and avoided his gaze, showing the tell tale signs of your insecurity. “Hey, it's okay. I want them to finally meet you. Actually, I think Lila would love you. I was going through some photos of you the other day and there was this stunning picture of you wearing a purple gown. When she saw that, she said you looked like a princess and got all excited, saying she wanted to dress like that too.”

It was hard to hold back a laugh. You could imagine a young girl going nuts over the idea of wearing gowns every single day, and you could also imagine the way he was torn between smiling at his daughter and wishing she would just go to sleep.

Despite your good mood, you still didn't know if you were ready. Meeting the kids was a big step, one that he wanted to happen sooner than it would naturally occur. So you took a deep breath and stepped away, dragging him along as you walked back inside the building. Maybe if he began to focus on seeing you work, he would forget about this idea.

While Henry styled your hair, Deacon leaned against a table with his arms folded over his chest as he watched you. “You don't want to meet them,” he suddenly said. When you let out a sigh and tore your gaze away from him, he nodded. “At all or just yet?”

“It's too soon, Deac,” you admitted. “Look, we've only been together for a few months. I love you, you know that, but I don't think I'm ready for their questions. I need some time to figure out how to talk to kids first. I don't know anything about that, I don't have the experience, and–”

With a small smile on his face he came closer and signaled the hair stylist the step aside for a second. When you gave him a worried look, he just leaned down to place a light kiss on your temple. “Okay, okay, I get it. I love you too, no matter when you meet them. I can give you advice, don't worry, then we'll wait until you're ready,” he assured you.

“Lovebirds, I hate to interrupt, but if you're not ready in ten minutes, they will kill you,” Henry said, but then his eyes fell on Deacon's badge. “Not literally, of course.”

“Yeah, I assumed you meant it that way.”

[hotgirlmythology]

The OIAR's very well funded response team headcanon (I havebbeen watching Torchwood too much)

Now, we know that Mr Bonzo is On His Way to deal with anyone the OIAR sics him on, but there is only one Mr Bonzo. What happens when one needs to catch a group of people in a building with a door they can all just leave through once Mr Bonzo arrives? Clearly, the OIAR needs their Response part to complement the Assessment.

The OIAR has terrible funding, just like the magnus institute, and so I'm guessing that any kind of response element would also be badly funded. Presumably the assault rifle carrying crazies who showed up at the hilltop road charity shop and proceeded to shoot everything and then firebomb it were an external organisation, associated with another Entity maybe. Thus we should base our OIAR crack hit squad on an even less well equipped group: The british police force.

We already have section 31, so the police clearly have some knowledge of paranormal activity and respond to it. The OIAR does not need to manage the entire country, in that case. So the team directly associated with them would be fairly small and deployed when the target is not going to be moving off anytime soon. Isolated avatars and creatures, and localised cults are unlikely to get wind that they are about to be attacked by a sleep deprived paramilitary who have to travel by train so this probably isn't much of an issue.

The equipment of this group would probably be based on british police equipment, though obviously with some modifications for dealing with possible paranormal activity. British armed police generally carry pistols and have taken up using rifles recently too. However, let us think. Does it seem likely that an eldritch touched being is likely to buy body armour. Not really. If a weak bullet doesn't stop it long enough to be dealt with a rifle bullet probably won't either, and given the cost constraints it would probably make sense that this response unit has pistols all around and perhaps a sniper rifle. Some kind of night vision or thermal imaging may also be useful in the case of entities messing around with the time of day, which does seem to happen rather a lot. To round out the actually reasonable equipment, a flashbang might help. It's hard to concentrate on using your mystical powers of death and destruction when your ears are bleeding.

Now we move to the more silly equipment (:3). Rope! Rope is great for when you are nervous about losing your way or climbing into a pitch dark hole. Maybe string would help too, come to think of it. Glowsticks should also be useful for testing the aforementioned pitch dark holes, or to make sure nothing is creeping around behind you (would leave a shadow). For that matter stick a torch on the guns. Some kind of analogue recording device would probably be nice as entities seem to be able to wreak havoc with any kind of electronics, so paper and pen basically. Motion sensors are quite cheap and easy to set up, so we can give them some of those too. Pepper spray is terribly boring but I think it might be useful.

The most important part of these people is obviously going to be their esoteric knowledge of entities and ability to keep a clear and logical head when everything goes pear-shaped and their friends get turned into pineapples or something. Ideally they should understand the broad strokes of meditation exercises, be able to get past contradictory sensual input and have experience being a part of at least one paranormal group (so that they understand the modus operandi of this type of thing). Additional helpful tricks might be being able to shoot very accurately, some kind of self hypnosis to force oneself to snap out of delusions of fear or literally being an avatar themselves.

The Eye runs the OIAR as it ran the Magnus Archives and I think we can all agree on this. The Eye is probably also very interested in the prospect of being able to subsume allll the knowledge that this response team manages to nick from the people they black bag and drive off in trucks with. So on some level the response team is just as much a branch of the Eye as the assessment people. I'm thinking mmm unusually keen eyed (miraculous recovery from needing glasses), people becoming compliant when interrogated, maybe a compulsion to be extra thorough when turning the target's house upside down for secret books, but only when there is one to be found (the Eye is good at secrets). Obviously the Hunt is going to be involved somewhere too but likely to a lesser extent than the Eye.

I did consider having them drive around in the alcoholic equivalent of a clown car but honestly this would probably get them found out rather easily. Instead, it's more likely that they would take the train with some kind of identification to allow them to travel with weapons (or the Eye just helps them not be noticed when they are on it). And THEN they get into the clown car, which is actually a "requisitioned" unmarked police van. Of course, not everywhere they go has these to spare. In fact, they seem to magically get misplaced as soon as the Voyeurs (nickname for how they sometimes get caught nose deep in filing cabinets) show up. In which case, it's time for walkies

TLDR: Group of understaffed paramilitary kick in your cult's front door and somehow know precisely where all your EVIL TOMES are kept. And then when you try to cast an incantation upon these poltroons they throw rocks at you. An alternative interpretation is if someone was to be going around making people think they're falling out of the sky, deploying a bunch of people of whom some have actually fallen out of the sky will probably help them keep it together.

[mama-qwerty]

The Knuckles Series - Review

Okay. So.

Finished the series.

I have thoughts.

First of all, it was fun. I view it as kinda filler episode material, that if someone watched just the movies they wouldn’t miss much. I watched it with my family and there were times we were all laughing and cheering and just enjoying the ride. It was silly and fun and Knuckles was adorable in every scene he was in.

That said, was it perfect?

No. No, it was not.

Here’s my take on some problems.

~ Setup felt rushed

We had the barest glimpse into Knux’s difficulty adjusting to a life on Earth, which, honestly, just made it look like he wasn’t being challenged enough. He can’t go from being on the run and fighting for his life at every turn to just sitting around playing VR and goofing off. That’s just not who he is.

Not to mention, his interpersonal skills are practically non-existent. He fought his whole childhood away. Presumably, anyone who came near him either wanted to exploit him, use him, or fight him. So he’s used to just doing things on his own, with no one to answer to, or take into consideration. That’s what I saw at the beginning—and honestly, it may have been easily handled had Maddie sat down with him and actually tried to get to know and understand him a little better.

~ Maddie

I felt for her, I really did. And I get that she was frustrated. Tom’s off who-knows-where, and she’s left at home trying to get the damage to the house fixed, while keeping tabs on three super powered alien kids, one of whom is actively attacking handymen, dragging a ton of dirt and sharpened sticks into the living room to make a warrior fighting pit, and dismantling the car to build himself an Iron Throne in the dining room.

She’s frustrated, and doing everything she can to keep herself from snapping. She didn’t sign up for this, but now has to learn on the fly how to deal with three very different, and very special needs kiddos.

But her referring to Knuckles as “our little red barbarian friend” kinda rubbed me the wrong way. He’s not a barbarian. He’s a warrior. He’s a traumatized kid who feels like the honor of his entire tribe rests on his shoulders. He’s struggling with this change and instead of trying to sit down and talk to the kid to explain how things are done on Earth, and see if there was some kind of agreement they could reach to keep them both happy, she just kinda gives up and walks away. Not very understanding, and doesn’t make her come off looking very good.

~ Pachacamac

Okay, this is just weird. Pachacamac, for those who don’t know, in the games is the warmongering echidna tribe chief who led the warriors in an assault to take the Master Emerald’s power for themselves. In the process, they enraged Chaos, the God of Destruction, who all but wiped out the Knuckles clan.

I know, I know, game and movie universes are different. The movie team has taken liberties before with certain aspects of Sonic lore, so this shouldn’t be any different.

Except it is. Canonically, Pachacamac is not a good guy. He’s not even a morally gray character. He is not an honored chief, who trained Knuckles and is now his wise spirit guide. He was the cause of the fall of Knuckles’ entire tribe, thanks to his greed and lust for power.

Making Pachacamac essentially Yoda is like changing Robotnik into a kindly grandfather figure. I mean, what??

The only thing I can think this harkens back to is Longclaw’s little hologram message from the second movie, in which she gives Sonic a quest to find the Master Emerald before Knuckles does. Which, okay, it’s a lost loved one giving a final message to help direct the character on a new path.

Except, Pachacamac isn’t a lost loved one for Knuckles. We did not see any interaction between Knux and Pach. We did see interaction between Knuckles and his father, who would have been a much better choice to send his son on a new path.

(I did, however, see this post that makes SOOOOO much sense in why Pachy appears to Knux, and instructs him to train Wade, specifically.)

~ The Master Emerald

Speaking of, WHERE IS IT? It was referenced numerous times, but never shown once. The absolute least the show could have done was show it well secured, with a Tails’ created security system in place. Show Knux meditating near it, or praying to his ancestors that they can rest easy knowing that the Emerald is safely back in the hands of the echidna once more.

The absolute lack of a presence of it is strange, considering the pursuit of it was what caused the near extinction of both the echidna and the owls. It was Knuckles’ focus for his entire life. Yet he simply leaves it behind without a second thought?

~ Wanda

OMG I hated Wade’s sister. Just, hated her. She was immature, abrasive, abusive, unnecessarily antagonistic with Wade (which seemed to be a life-long thing if the flashbacks are anything to go by) and just struck me as someone who was overcompensating for something. She’s a bully and it’s no wonder Wade is the way he is if he had to grow up with someone like her.

~ No Closure

We didn’t see them arrive back home, where Maddie would hand them their asses for just disappearing like that and not telling her. She was likely worried out of her mind the whole time. And I would have liked to have seen Sonic and Tails try to cover for Knux’s absence, in funny little brotherly shenanigans.

As I said above, I still found it fun. I loved Mother Whipple. I loved Knux’s interactions with her. I loved how Wade grew over their little trip. It was an enjoyable ride, and my whole family really had fun.

How would I have done it differently?

Well, that’s a different post.

[frownyalfred]

this except it’s Brucie Wayne doing this during some company team building event and absolutely traumatizing an entire cohort of interns at Wayne Enterprises

[rowrowronnie]

hiking time!!

[coldvampire]

anyway as soon as i pry myself off this couch im gonna share some screenshots of bg3 protags on my sideblog. just gotta like. reach the desk first.

[k1rishiki]

going from "i like ayaka but i'm going to pull for her brother instead bc i already have a cryo sword user + i want to replace my barbara w a 5*" to ayaka's biggest wanter and a ride or die barbara stan who doesn't even use ayato. every day i regret my decisions made during 3.5

[fischlcatgirl]

Board certified abyss 12 HATER