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cool-fancier · 6 months

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A Dance of Rivalry and Romance

Synopsis: Your crew,Eclipse and Bebe join together to change Seoul's dancing rivalry into a partnership. An unexpected bond sparks among pulsing beats, transcending rivalry.

Seoul's heart pulsated with life's beat, a lively symphony that echoed through its neon-lit streets. In the midst of this bustling backdrop, two dance groups, yours, Eclipse, and Bada's, Bebe, stood as more than simply rivals, but as entities who expressed the exciting spirit of the city. After a chance encounter with a local dance battle in your younger years, you created Eclipse, inspired by an instinctive passion of dance. Bada and her crew Bebe danced in defiance of society expectations, expressing themselves when words failed.

Your first meeting with Bada marked the start of a furious rivalry, a dancing war that laid the foundation for a relationship that would transcend the confines of competition. Over time, the Seoul dance community became divided into two factions: Team Eclipse and Team Bebe. Every competition increased the rivalry, transforming the dancing scene into a war where every movement was weighed down by passion and competition.

Under the surface of the competition, however, there was mutual appreciation for each other's abilities. The dance battles evolved into a dance of desire, a hidden connection buried between violent movements and intimidating glares. It was an emotional dance, with each jump and turn telling a story of unspoken attraction.

As time passed, a show called "Harmony Beat" formed, aiming to bring rival dance crews together for a collaborative performance. The news hit both teams like a tsunami, and the tension in the dancing studio was apparent during the first meeting. You and Bada, the leaders of your respective groups, stood at opposite ends of the room, looking at each other with a mixture of rivalry and suspicion.

"Look, I don't like this any more than you do, but it's for a good cause to get recognition for my group and might as well yours," Bada explained, her voice solid but laced with hesitation.

You sighed, realising the truth of her words. "Fine, but let's get one thing straight - this doesn't mean we're suddenly best friends."

Bada smirked, amusement visible in her eyes. "Agreed. Let's just get through this without tearing each other apart."

The unsure collaboration began. Eclipse and Bebe's dancing styles initially clashed, with each crew retaining its distinct identity. However, as the rehearsals went, an unexpected synergy evolved. The heated rivalry that once defined your relationship with Bada has developed into a creative collaboration that has pushed both groups beyond their comfort zones.

Late-night practises became occasions for mutual laughter and struggle. Eclipse and Bebe found a peaceful beat in the dance studio, which was formerly a battlefield. Seoul, famed for its throbbing energy, witnessed the transformation of two competitive dance teams into a collaborative force for good.

You and Bada were sitting on the studio floor, catching your breath one evening after a long session.

"You know," Bada continued, her face serious, "this collaboration might not be so bad after all."

You lifted an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. "Coming from you, that's saying something."

"Well, I can't deny that your crew has some serious moves," Bada grinned. And maybe, just maybe, dancing is more than simply competition."

As the days turned into weeks, the charity performance for Harmony Beat approached. Eclipse and Bebe's collaboration had grown into something far more significant than either of you could have imagined. The dance routine, which was formerly a clash of styles, now smoothly blends the skills of both teams.

The city gathered to watch the show on the night of the performance. The lights were darkened, the stage was set, and the music began. Eclipse and Bebe danced together as if they were one, their bodies portraying a message of unity, resilience, and the transformational power of dance.

The audience applauded wildly as the final beats echoed throughout the auditorium. You and Bada exchanged a knowing look as you stood side by side in the centre of the stage. Your relationship's rivalry had grown into a partnership that transcended competition.

Bada turned to you with a genuine smile after the performance, as the crews enjoyed in the praise and cheers. "Maybe we should do this again sometime, minus the rivalry."

You grinned, realising that the change from bitter opponents to collaborative partners had been a life-changing experience. "Yeah, maybe we should."

Eclipse and Bebe continued to work together on several projects in the weeks that followed. The dance studio became a haven for creativity, and your relationship with Bada grew stronger. Late-night practises became moments of shared laughter and close glances, with the pulse of the music blurring the lines between competitiveness and romance.

The studio was bathed in the warm glow of dimmed lights, the lingering traces of the hard practise still in the air. You and Bada stood in the centre of the dance floor, the music playing at a low hum, as if mimicking your two's silent intensity. The pulsing beat seemed to match the quick speed of your heartbeat.

Bada's dark and seductive eyes fixed onto yours. The air was charged with an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that drew you in. Bada took a step closer without saying anything, her fingers going up to softly cup your cheek. You found yourself leaning into it, your gaze never leaving hers, while the touch sent shivers down your spine.

"I've felt it, you know," she said quietly, her voice a breathy melody that rang out in the gap between you.

"Felt what?" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"The connection, the dance beyond the choreography," Bada added, running a soft path over your jawline with her thumb. "There's something here, Y/N, something that goes beyond the rivalry, beyond the dance floor."

Her words hung in the air, leaving no space for doubt. The competitive edge that had defined your relationship with Bada seemed to fade in that charged moment, leaving only the raw, unfiltered feeling that had been boiling beneath the surface.

Without saying anything else, Bada closed the gap between you, her lips meeting yours in a delicate, lingering kiss. The world around you appeared to slow down as the sensation of her lips against yours faded away, leaving only the warmth of her touch searing through every fibre of your existence.

It was a kiss that said everything, the culmination of the tension, need, and unspoken connection that had been growing between you and Bada for so long. The dance floor was converted into a canvas for a different sort of choreography at that stolen moment—one that transcended rivalry and spoke the language of love.

The city of Seoul outside the studio walls seemed to hold its breath as the kiss deepened, as if respecting the delicate intimacy unfolding within. The neon lights continued to flicker, putting a warm glow on the two figures locked in an emotional dance.

When Bada finally pulled back, her eyes bore into yours, a mixture of vulnerability and longing mirrored in their depths. "There's no denying it now, is there?" she whispered, her voice a mere echo in the hushed space.

Your breath caught in your throat as you shook your head. Words were needless in the following days of what had happened. The shared kiss had said it all, proving a connection that extended beyond dance fights and championships.

The city of Seoul continued to pulse with life as you and Bada stood there, the studio filled with the echo of the music that had witnessed this private moment. The love story between Eclipse and Bebe's leaders, which had formerly been defined by rivalry, had taken an unexpected turn—one that had painted the city with the hues of a romance that had flowered in the middle of the dance floor.

In the end, Bada and you became symbols of a different kind of harmony, one that celebrated not only the power of dance but also the transformative nature of love. The city, with its beating heart and vibrant soul, embraced the tale of two rival dance crews turned lovers, proving that in the rhythm of life, even the fiercest competitions could lead to the most beautiful collaborations.

#bada lee x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee fanfic #bebe #bada lee x oc #bada lee x y/n #dance

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psychelis-new · 1 year

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pick a pile: "Your soulmate's light and dark"

take a breath and choose the photo/number that calls you the most to read about what may be the "good" and "bad" sides of your soulmate: remember a soulmate can be either romantic or platonic (it's part of our soulmate family). I will let the message open to any type of soulmate also cause not everyone wants a romantic partner now.

As you can see from the pics, the reading is divided in two parts: if you feell called by the light side of one pile and the dark side of another, it's obviously fine. Sometimes lights aspect may mix up with dark ones and vice versa: it's fine. Nobody's here to judge what is really light or dark in everyone's life. Thanks to the 2 Anons who suggested this topic.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4 top part/colored pics : light sides bottom part/bnw pics : dark sides - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

--light--

Someone good with words and communication, very talented in what they do. Someone that may be rich, not just with money but also in experiences. Someone into magic or that has magical abilities (or perceived so). A joyful optimistic, open, ambitious, spiritual, not too corrupted by the harsh world, and healing for you. Your connection may bring healing to both of you. Balanced, may also be doing two jobs. Very giving to those they like/love, the classic "helping hand". May also be an healer as a job (also through communication). They may be healing some dark aspects of them too atm. Physical in their displays of affections (loves hugging).

song: quiver | lonas

--dark--

A "shield hard to break": might not be easy to get closer to them, not much physically but emotionally. May have had not positive past experiences or fear being played with; once they trust you though, nothing can break that trust (unless you do something stupid which ofc would make them show you a different side of them: I think may have problems with anger, at times). Kinda possessive/jealous of their partner and friends/family. Likes to take care of you/them and go beyond in order to do that (meaning they may second guess themselves, at least on occasions). [18+ MESSAGE: may be a dom and like to tie you or ordering you]

song: the boy is mine | brandy and monica

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pile 2

--light--

I keep hearing "simplicity is the key". Might not appear or stand out physically, but hides loads of amazing and different traits in their character. Sophisticated, empathic, harmonious, likes to be one of the many out in the world, but appreciate everytime someone (and in particular you/their family/friends) remind them of how much important they are. Wise, smart, into books, a philanthropist. Might be donating a lot to charity. The person you'd go to for advices. Has continuosly transformed, grown and adapted through their life. Might be popular, even just in their field or city.

song: the fabulous emancipation of one harley quinn | daniel pemberton

--dark--

Too kind for the world, too sweet, too easily hurt. Too giving. Still needs to work on boundaries and self esteem/worth. Tendencies to people please, feeling neglected and abandoned on occasions. Still needs to work on some of their traumas, despite how much they've already done. Might fear running out of time and gets anxious. Needs someone to ground them and remind them it's fine to not know and to be patient and hopeful. To not be scared. Might have fear of commitment/intimacy, and not realize when it's time to take a step back and see how much they've done. They want to do more constantly. They need to do better. Never satisfied. Always searching for something else, and for someone that needs them/their help. Needs to learn how to take care of/show up for themselves.

song: song of the sea | lisa hannigan

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pile 3

--light--

This person is light. And love. Bright, optimistic, happy, a warm ray of sunshine. Ofc they have some issues too, but when they're around others, they try to be as positive and encouraging as possible. They want to see people succeed. And applaude them. They are a gift from heaven to everyone they encounter. People may randomly start speaking with them, confessing stuff to them e.g. when on a train or in line at the grocery shop. They make people feel understood and never judged. Very welcoming, accepting and kind energy. Tend to not see immediately when they're being deceived, may be a bit naive.

song: if you love me | brownstone

--dark--

Nobody/not many know this cause they rarely speak about their darkest side, but they've been through hell and back. They've been in the mud, they navigated the darkest waters but still managed to came out so pure and kind as nothing happened. Only at their core they know and remember every little step of those trips (and sometimes they may still feel that deep hurt). They have known hate, judgment, abandonment, neglect... maybe even more. They stayed strong through all that, through all the physical and mental struggles. It doesn't matter if others aren't aware of this trait and tend to judge them easily as a "lucky one". They want to save others from experiencing the same hell, and for this reason they try to be this bright kind person everytime they can. They didn't let pain change them.

song: fade away | lucky daye

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pile 4

--light--

A little bright pure star. Someone who likes to be at the center of attention, doesn't mind that. Might be popular online/make public speeches. May like to be different or results different in their environment (clothing/style, physical features...). Healing eyes/smile. May help those around them to change perspective, to see how beauty is hidden in the darkest places. May have scars or some other particular feature/medical aspect, and not mind showing them and how well you can live even while being "imperfect". They may nurture everyone's fears, trying to help them balance their mind and emotions also by being an example/guide (for some). Someone everybody can learn a lot from. They "change the game" (and mentality) of people. Strong minded. They use their differences (whatever those are) as a way to stand out from the crowd. Not as something to be afraid but to be proud of. Leader.

song: wanna be on your mind | valerie june

--dark--

Might have slightly manipulative behaviour occasionally, in particular when triggered. May fear not making it, not having done enough, not being able to do enough. Might fear to be forgotten by their dear ones in particular. Despite not regretting being different, secretly wants to be as anyone else especially when triggered (our emotional immaturity comes out when we're triggered). Needs time outs to get away from those moments (especially in nature/meditating). Constantly fighting with their mind and emotions to keep a balance, may experience outburst of anger and powerlessness/unworthiness. Might try to isolate themselves, not to hurt others. A bit of self sabotage and impostor syndrome. Might find their self validation in others.

song: under my skin | claudia kane

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avaleigh16 · 7 months

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In the vastness of the galaxy, where stars sparkled like diamonds and celestial wonders beyond comprehension existed, a being named YN emerged as the most powerful woman in all known realms. YN was a remarkable hybrid, an extraordinary blend of Yautja and a human-like species blessed with magnified physical prowess, immense strength, and unparalleled beauty.

Every being in the cosmos whispered her name in hushed reverence, for YN possessed not only incredible strength but also the potential to unite the divided species under one harmonious reign. She was destined to be the future monarch of the Yautja, a responsibility as weighty as her cosmic powers.

As YN navigated the expanse of her extraordinary existence, she unexpectedly found herself entwined in a romantic courtship with a prominent and mighty male Yautja. His stature towered above all, his presence oozed strength and prowess. He was formidable, the epitome of Yautja might. Yet, YN carried within her the child of another male Yautja, a secret that weighed heavily on her heart.

Guiding her steps, YN's wise and protective father and grandparents stood as her unwavering support system. They were Yautja of formidable reputation, respected elders vested with indomitable knowledge and uncompromising loyalty. YN's grandmother, a Yautja with an inherent strictness, possessed wisdom forged through countless cycles of life.

When news of YN's courtship reached her grandmother's ears, she summoned the male Yautja to a secluded chamber deep within the Yautja homeworld. There, age-old traditions and the strength of spirit converged.

The male Yautja stepped into the chamber, his presence commanding yet respectful. He bore the weight of his species' admiration but understood he must face the scrutiny of YN's vigilant grandmother.

"Sit, warrior," the elder Yautja spoke with a voice laden with authority. Her eyes measured the male's every move, assessing his worthiness to court her cherished granddaughter.

The male Yautja, aware of the gravity of the situation, maintained a respectful posture, embodying the strength and honor befitting his kind. With careful words, he conveyed his love for YN and his commitment to protect her and the child she bore, accepting the responsibilities that would come with their union.

Caught between pride and concern, YN's grandmother listened intently. She scrutinized the male Yautja's every word, gaze digging deep into his essence to gauge his resilience and his recognition of YN's immense power and potential. And in this quiet moment, the male Yautja bared his soul, revealing his unwavering devotion and unyielding loyalty.

As the conversation unfolded, layers peeled away, and the warriors found common ground. The grandmother, though strict and unyielding, acknowledged the strength of this male Yautja's character and loved ones. She recognized his commitment to stand by YN's side, protecting not just her, but their lineage, their legacy. In time, she granted her approval, acknowledging the undeniable strength and bond forged between them.

Days turned into cycles, and YN, carrying the child of the male Yautja, navigated her extraordinary gifts and impending destiny with grace and purpose. Together, they stood as a symbol of unity—a yin and yang, blending their strength and power to champion justice and honor among the stars.

In the annals of cosmic history, YN's legacy would endure. As the most potent force ever to grace the galaxy, she wielded her powers to protect and guide her people while cherishing the love of her devoted partner. Their union became a beacon of hope and harmony, uniting the Yautja and every species that basked in the effulgence of their reign.

And thus, with unwavering love, unbreakable bonds, and unparalleled cosmic abilities, YN embraced her destiny. Standing tall as the beloved and cherished monarch of a united galaxy, she became the embodiment of strength, compassion, and limitless power—forever enshrined as the epitome of greatness in the annals of the cosmos.

#yautja love #male yautja #female reader #yautja x reader #predator #yautja #predator x reader #reader pregnant #aliens #aliens vs predator

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theregencywriter · 11 months

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(9) A Gentleman's Pursuit - Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

My Dearest Readers,

It appears that a long-awaited reconciliation is underway within the esteemed Bridgerton household. The tempestuous relationship between the eldest Bridgerton brother, Anthony, and his spirited sibling, Benedict, has been a topic of much speculation and gossip. However, I am delighted to report that the icy rift between these two gentlemen seems to be thawing, just in time for the grand ball taking place in their very own residence tonight.

Whispers in the social circles suggest that Anthony and Benedict have engaged in heartfelt conversations, seeking common ground and understanding. Their disagreements have given way to a newfound appreciation for each other's perspectives, and it seems that the bonds of brotherhood are being fortified once more. Such a reunion is a cause for celebration, as unity within the Bridgerton family has always been a matter of great importance to their beloved matriarch, Lady Violet.

As preparations for the ball reach a crescendo, one cannot help but anticipate the atmosphere of harmony and joy that will grace the event. The Bridgerton brothers, once divided, are now united in their shared purpose of hosting an exquisite evening of revelry and enchantment. It is a testament to the power of forgiveness and the strength of familial bonds.

Of course, dear readers, I shall keep a watchful eye on the developments of this captivating saga. Will the renewed harmony between Anthony and Benedict extend beyond the confines of the ballroom? Only time will reveal the depths of their reconciliation and whether it will withstand the tests of the outside world.

As the night unfolds, let us revel in the delights of the Bridgerton ball and witness the triumph of familial love and understanding. May this be an evening of joy, laughter, and newfound unity.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Eloise and Y/N stood before the full-length mirror in Eloise's room, both clad in exquisite dresses, preparing for the much-anticipated ball. Eloise sighed and turned to Y/N, her expression filled with apprehension. "I can't help but feel a pang of resentment towards this whole courting business. It's as if society expects us to follow a script, to be pursued by suitors without considering our own desires."

Y/N nodded sympathetically, her eyes reflecting understanding. "I know how you feel, Eloise. It can be suffocating to have one's choices dictated by tradition and expectations. But perhaps we can find a way to navigate this season on our own terms."

Eloise smiled appreciatively, knowing that Y/N was a kindred spirit in their shared desire for independence. "You, my dear Y/N, seem to have caught the eye of many suitors. I can't help but wonder if there's a particular brother of the Bridgerton clan who has captured your heart."

Y/N blushed, trying to suppress a smile. "Oh, Eloise, you and your matchmaking schemes! But no, I assure you, my heart remains undecided. It's true that I have spent time with Benedict and have come to appreciate his company, but as for deeper feelings, I am still uncertain."

Eloise's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Uncertain, you say? Well, we shall see how the evening unfolds at the ball. Perhaps with Anthony temporarily out of the picture, Benedict will step up and seize the opportunity."

Y/N laughed, a mixture of amusement and disbelief in her voice. "Oh, Eloise, you do have an imagination! But let us not get ahead of ourselves. Tonight is about enjoying the festivities, dancing, and cherishing the freedom."

They shared a knowing glance. Together, they vowed to approach the ball with a sense of adventure and self-determination, ready to challenge the rigid expectations of society. As they made their way downstairs, anticipation in the air, Y/N couldn't help but wonder what the evening held in store. Would Benedict finally reveal his true intentions? Or would she find herself drawn to someone unexpected? Only time would tell, and for now, she was content to embrace the uncertainty and revel in the excitement of the approaching ball.

---

Y/N made her way downstairs, and as she reached the bottom, she noticed Violet Bridgerton overseeing the final preparations for the ball. Y/N approached her with a warm smile. "Ms. bridgerton, is there anything I can do to assist you?" Y/N offered, her voice filled with genuine eagerness.

Violet turned to face her, a hint of relief and gratitude in her eyes. "Oh, my dear Y/N, your timing is impeccable. I could use an extra pair of hands to arrange the flowers. Thank you for offering your help."Y/N nodded, her fingers delicately arranging blooms of vibrant colours. As they worked together, a comfortable silence enveloped them, a shared understanding between two women connected by the bonds of family.

Violet paused for a moment, studying Y/N with a gentle expression. "Y/N, I want you to know how much we value your presence in our lives. You have brought light and joy into our home. We would be proud to have you as part of our family."

Touched by Violet's words, Y/N felt a warmth spreading through her. She knew the Bridgertons had welcomed her with open arms, but to hear such heartfelt sentiments made her heart swell with gratitude.

"Violet, your kindness means the world to me," Y/N replied, her voice filled with sincerity. "The love and acceptance I have found within this family is something I treasure deeply. I am truly grateful." Violet smiled, her eyes sparkling with maternal affection. "You are deserving of every bit of love and happiness, my dear. Tonight, as we gather for the ball, remember that you have our unwavering support. Your choices and desires matter to us."

Y/N's heart swelled with a renewed sense of belonging. She had found a second family in the Bridgertons, a family that embraced her with open hearts and celebrated her individuality. As the final touches were made, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead. With Violet by her side, Y/N knew she had found not only a guide and confidante but also a woman who believed in her and her journey towards independence.

As Y/N stood beside Violet, absorbed in their heartfelt conversation, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the foyer. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Eloise burst through the door, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and exasperation. "Y/N, come with me this instant!" Eloise exclaimed, her voice filled with urgency.

Surprised by Eloise's sudden appearance, Y/N allowed herself to be pulled along, her hand firmly clasped in Eloise's grip. Together, they ascended the staircase, their steps echoing in the quiet corridors. As they reached Eloise's room, Y/N noticed the array of dresses, accessories, and makeup scattered across the room. It was clear that Eloise needed help in preparing for the ball, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement and curiosity.

"Eloise, what's the rush?" Y/N asked, her voice laced with laughter. "Do you require assistance with your ensemble?"

Eloise huffed, her frustration apparent. "Yes, indeed! I cannot seem to decide on the perfect gown, and my hair refuses to cooperate. I need your keen eye and expert opinion, Y/N." Y/N couldn't help but smile at Eloise's dramatic flair. She knew that beneath her friends exasperation, there lay a genuine desire for everything to be perfect. Y/N stepped forward, ready to assist in any way she could.

"Alright, Eloise, let's tackle this together," Y/N said, her voice filled with determination. "We'll find the perfect dress and create a hairstyle that will leave everyone in awe. You'll be the belle of the ball." Eloise's eyes softened, a flicker of gratitude shining through. "Thank you, Y/N. I don't know what I would do without you. Sometimes, it feels overwhelming, being the centre of attention. But with you by my side, I feel more confident."

Y/N's heart swelled with warmth. She understood Eloise's struggle, the weight of societal expectations and the desire for autonomy. Together, they would navigate the challenges of the ball and support each other every step of the way. As they spent the next hours preparing, laughter and banter filled the room, dissipating any remaining tension. Y/N delighted in helping Eloise select the perfect gown, carefully arranging her hair in an elegant style that showcased her sister's natural beauty.

When the transformation was complete, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy. Eloise looked radiant, her confidence shining through. They linked arms, ready to descend the stairs and face the night that awaited them.

As they stepped into the ballroom, the sound of music and laughter filled the air. Y/N could not help but feel grateful for the bond she shared with Eloise, a friendship that transcended societal expectations and provided unwavering support. Hand in hand, they walked into the festivities, ready to create unforgettable memories and face whatever challenges lay ahead. United in their pursuit of individuality and independence, Y/N and Eloise stood side by side, ready to conquer the ball.

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gallifreyanhotfive · 15 hours

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 49

If you recall from a previous part, it is a class 2 intervention for a Time Lord to set themselves up as a god, and the punishment for this is vaporization. (Audio: False Gods) On an unrelated note, the Doctor is referred to ans treated as a god by many races and species in many different stories.

The Fifth Doctor has given Turlough and likely his other companions long, extended lectures on cricket. (Audio: Phantasmagoria)

The Master was connected to everything and nothing while stuck inside the Eye of Harmony. (Audio: Planet of Dust)

Sarah Jane was aware of the Master before they met in the Death Zone. (Novel: Managra) This suggests that maybe she heard of him through journalism or through UNIT, or maybe, of course, the Doctor spoke about the Master often enough that she became somewhat familiar with who he is.

The Twelfth Doctor once performed surgery on Danny Pink when he had been caught in a blast on an alien world. It was very important to both of them that Clara never found out about it. (Audio: War Wounds)

Time Lords have an instinctive fear of the Ravenous, like how sheep tend to be afraid of wolves and how deer freeze in headlights. (Audio: Deeptime Frontier)

By one account, Sarah Jane thought of the Third Doctor as a father figure but the Fourth Doctor as a mad uncle. (Novel: Managra)

The Master keeps a well stocked liquor cabinet. (Novel: Deadly Reunion)

Under the influence of cyberparticles, K-9 would say "no" instead of "negative." (Audio: The Fate of Krelos)

The Fourth Doctor recalled beating Ernest Hemingway at tiddlywinks, and apparently, Hemingway never forgave him for it. (Audio: Death Match)

The First Doctor and Susan were being pursued by the Chancellery Guard when they stole the TARDIS and ran away from Gallifrey. (Audio: The Beginning)

The Fifth Doctor once used his cricket bat to deflect a sword blow, but his cricket bat was damaged by the impact. This saddened the Doctor. (Comic: The Tides of Time)

The Guardians of Time number six in total and is called the Six-Fold God. All the aspects of the universe are split amongst the six of them. Included in the Six-Fold God are the White Guardian of Light in Time, the Black Guardian of Darkness and Chaos, and the Crystal Guardian of Dream and Fantasy (also known as the Toymaker). (Novel: Divided Loyalties)

The Fifth Doctor and Turlough once showed up to stop an evil from committing murder, only to find multiple versions of the TARDIS nearby and that the previous victims, burnt beyond recognition, all had two hearts. The Doctor realized that he was caught in a paradox and that the previous victims were his future selves who had also shown up to stop the murders. (Audio: Repeat Offender)

According to some, the Doctor was the best agent the Celestial Intervention Agency ever had. (Audio: Intervention Earth)

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sw33tsnow · 4 months

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Enchanted by the aching wounds

- (I) / (III)

Mercenary!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Harpy!F!Reader

Summary: In a world filled with chaos, mankind and mythical creatures refuse to maintain a harmonious interaction. But it seemed not all would comply the exact same.

Warning: NOT FOR MINORS, size gap, mentions of violence, mentions of death, blood, vocabs, timeline ("once upon a time") Wordcount: 2k7

NOTE(s):

I've been working on The UK history for my field and came up with this blog's idea. I'll try my best to bring the vibe (might appear some grammar errs)

Inspired by: Maleficent (Angelina Jolie's role) and the incredible mini-serie Songs that sound like sea-foam - @halcyone-of-the-sea

THE SECOND PART || THE THIRD PART

Mother Nature - Nak created everything. She shaped mountains with scarce ores for the Dragons to guard, blew the wind and guided the Elves and Centaurus to bring seeds to the arid steppes. Whenever a precious life passed away, Nak would shed Her tears of sorrow and they would flow into vast oceans, becoming a great home for Sirens and Mermaids. Oases and islands, the same as floating land on the water surface, surrounded by sand and deep inside where the trees were so dense, there are jungles guarded by the Harpies. That's your kind, being called by an intimate name - the Aborigines, given by Nak and friends from other species. The reason was because jungles were the combination of nearly all the quintessence that Mother Nature has ever formed. Harpies' deep knowledge of flora and fauna impressed the meadow fairies to come back to learn, your kind's mastery in predicting the taste and temperature of liquid attracted the water fairies, and the respectful manners toward the mountains always pleased the Dragons.

Then the Sky came. He called Mother Nature his muse, allured Her and succeeded in making Her give birth to a short-lived, disgusting species called human. They're stupid, always curious and impatient. Nak wanted you - her beautiful children to treat them like family, just like the Sky treated Her. Yet unexpectedly, the Sky abandoned Her along with these brainless mortals for his new interest - the Moon. When He was still by Nak’s side, their passionate love resulted in endless harvest and warm sunlight illuminated the entire land but when He left, Mother Nature was drowned in inconsolable grief and forgot Her duty, causing what we called The ice age today. Those weak mankind rebelled because they couldn't stand the harshness which nature has given them. They sharpened their own weapons and started to hunt food, they exploited the mountains to take away the essence, and then started dividing territories and killing their own kind to assert their power.

Mother Nature's fury has risen, Her tantrum was beyond imagination. The mountains roared and spewed boiling melted rocks that burned fields dared to cross their path, the calm coastline was replaced by angrily tsunamis, the vast pastures turned to lifeless soil, and the forests became somber and dreadful. Mother Nature was unable to dissuade. She was your mother, their mother, but the mortals didn't know better. Instead of reconciled and coordinated, foolish humans with vague knowledge began to imitate your kind. They formed classes as you have your clans, their patriarch preferred to be called king, and your warriors were called guards in their language. They robbed your ores and molded the gold into cramped shapes entitled crowns, wearing them on their heads as if to represent their power. With endless greed, the mortals yearned for exotic garments and accessories so they did not hesitate to slaughter your brothers and sisters only for feathers and claws as the materials.

Faith vanished when the whines from families who lost their members and the desperate prayers couldn't reach Nak, She has banished you all, Her own blood. The survivors from all remaining species have gathered in the far-off island, separated and protected from the ugly world which mankind has conquered.

Afraid of being hanged for failing to track the left traces of you fairies, the vassals forged stories to delude their majesty. Spreading rumors about your kinds’ extinction and turning you fairies into mythical creatures that they chose to tell their later generations as bedtime tales.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Reckless and brutal

The stories that you heard from the elders as a child told you all. Mankind is truly bloodthirsty. Time flies like an arrow, the war raged non-stop, the deafening explosions of the weapons they called 'guns' and the mournful screams of all things did not subside for decades. The mortals did not give up easily as they silently seeked for you creatures with the excuse that you fairies would take revenge. They massacred villages, shed no mercy on newborn infants to harmless old ones, women were captured to satisfy their animalistic desires and men who defied orders were killed unhesitatingly. However, not only you fairies had to shed blood, humanity also refused to spare their own people.

Foolish

Well, you aren’t on the same page. Humans are indeed ugly and cruel, but they have superior intelligence, which was clearly unfair. They learned from their previous mistakes in order to correct and improve themselves. Without special-given abilities, mortals built their own boats to help them travel on the sea, put up their own huts called houses to live in and start a family, they also learned how to herd animals and grow crops.

That's also why you're here, chained below the sodden hold of an enormous royal cruise.

Your naked body was covered in wounds and coagulated blood stains from the whip, your hair disheveled and your legs were shaking from the loss of strength from being knelt for too long. The surrounding dark space limited your vision, there were some collision sounds that came from some valuable objects, the whimpers of animals and the jingling sound of the chains on your neck and your wrists as they bump into each other. On the main deck, the nobles were eating, drinking and dancing to the melodious music of the violin, guests all wearing masks as requested in the invitation. This ship's indeed well-known as a venue for clandestine auctions. Alcohol, jewelry, paintings, drugs or any other illegal items would be converged here for the wealthy to throw their money around. Attendees were way more crowded than usual thanks to the rumors about a special creature on display waiting to be owned here - you, to be more specific.

During the final purge on the island where you fairies were hiding, your parents sacrificed themselves to protect you from impending death. All by yourself, you had to hunt for your starvation, had to learn how to fly and use the gift you were given - mankind called it magic, without receiving any guidance. You came to realize that you were the last Harpy, the last child of Mother Nature - Nak while eavesdropping on a conversation between pirates. Couldn’t hide forever, you disguise yourself as a human-being and blend in the human society. Years of working like a dog, you have earned enough money, which the mortals used to trade for goods, and opened a pub of your own. You have learned their language to communicate and lived in peace for such a long period until a group of strangers ambushed and brought you to this cruise. Even though the time serving for pirates and monarchs' forces has whetted your battling skills, you’re outnumbered and were forced to surrender.

They brutally tortured you, stimulating your wild's instinct to rise and revealing your true self before their eyes. They treated you like an animal, feeding you filthy stuff that even the most foolish creature wouldn't put in their mouth just to keep you from dying. If you dared to resist or went on hunger-strike, they would avoid damaging the valuables of your body and force you to submit by slicing your flesh. Devastated, you no longer have the strength to find a way to escape but accept your fate, being locked up and sold like an actual commodity.

In the hidden corners of the ballroom, four men with sturdy built frames were quietly observing every movement with hawk eyes. All four of them were dressed in late Victorian formal attire, after all it’s considered a formal event with plenty of royalties appearing. Standard plain white shirts with detachable white collars tucked inside the waistcoats, ascot or ties by choice. Their trousers and frock coats were not the same shade, perhaps to avoid unwanted attention. From head to toe, the costumes were meticulously tailored based on each individuals’ measurements because the job they undertook required quite a lot of manual work.

Beneath the giant painting hanging between the two paths leading to the balcony, a brunet with a black mask was staring at the end of the hall. That’s where the door leading down to the lower deck was, where his team had to reach as claimed by the instruction. The term of the contract was short and simple - his team’s party wanted the most valuable 'thing' in this auction.

Normally bland businesses like these would never be accepted, but they’d be fools if refused such huge sum. What’s more? Free of charge handmade pieces of clothing and the chance to sneak those expensive liquor wouldn’t be unpleasant after all.

The gentleman had begun to move. He lightly tapped on the bench where two charming men were sipping wine as if commanding, they immediately finished the booze before standing up and followed him. The brunet gave an oblivious glance as if observing the surroundings, a tall figure appeared out of nowhere and joined them as all four men quietly disappeared behind the door, not being seen by anyone.

Carefully removing the masks and cumbersome collars, the men gently pulled out the small arms attached to shoulder holsters hidden beneath their long coats. Checking the magazine again, a masculine face and neatly trimmed beard, seemed to be the Captain, motioned the other three to stick with him as they entered the hallway.

"What exactly are we looking for, sir?" The pretty boy with dark skin whispered in curiosity.

"We shall find out soon, son" The Captain replied

Their eyes never left the dark path ahead. Gently approaching the hold, there were two guards positioned by the stairs armed with rifles absentmindedly chatting with each other. With his index and middle fingers pointing forward, in the back, the tallest man moved like a ghost behind the guards as he pulled out a knife grabbed around his thigh to stab one’s neck before raising the gun to shoot right between the other’s eyebrows. The cheers along with music and the guests' lack of alertness successfully masked the loud gunshots just well. They gathered up and began to hide dead bodies into the nearest wine barrels. Bounty hunters and petty thieves would leave evidence and traces behind but these men were professionals, could possibly tell by their swift movements.

All sorts of illegal services are offered in the black market in order to complete dirty jobs which customers didn't want to get involved with. And The One-Four-One, one of the most well-known mercenary teams, utilized by both the government and merchants, they're qualified plus always ensured to complete deals in their agreement. As long as they’re paid properly.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Your dizziness was gone by the loud noise coming from outside, gunfire, you confirmed. Pulling yourself together, you dragged your sore body deeper into the darkness of the hold as your pointed ears perked up due to the sound of expensive leather heels on the wooden steps. Adjusted your breath and narrowed your eyes, you peaked up to the direction where the noise came from while purposely clacking the chain to entice those humans. As soon as two bulky men carefully approached and stood in front of you, using one leg to knock one of them down, you snatched the gun from his hand and aimed straight at his forehead. Your right knee firmly pressed on his chest and your left foot pinned his wrist down, not allowing him to sit up.

"Steamin' bloody...."

"Shut yer trap or ‘ll crush ye barnacles" You gritted your teeth and forced the gun harder against his head. Your gift could not be used if your mind were unclear, so there’s no other way but to improvise under this circumstance.

Opposite of the silky feathers image, the primaries of your wing were like sharp blades pointing at the adam's apple of the man behind you as goosebumps exploded on your entire body. The man was quiet, so quiet that you almost couldn’t realize his present when you attacked the human below you. He calmly pierced down at you, only his beautiful chocolate brown eyes and messy blonde hair were visible because the man wore a tubular cloth around his neck. His high nose bridge and lips were hardly seen beneath the stretchy material as it pulled up to cover more than half of his face.

"Savvy?" You asked with an unemotional face and voice.

"Easy, ma lady.....easy" The dark-skinned boy knelt on the floor, one hand raised in the air to show that he had no intention of harming you, the other hand gently placing the gun on the wooden steps.

You didn't let down your guard, only turned your eyes to the boy, his wine-red cutaway spread out on the wet floor so delicately.

The blond didn't step back, he put his gun back in the holster and slowly took off his coat. You followed his every move as you retracted your wing, bringing it to block the front of your body while crawling down from the man lying on the floor. The faint scent of gunpowder and burnt orange peel tickled your nose as the blond man draped his large coat over your smaller shoulders, his calloused hands grazing your shoulders, leaving an indescribable itchiness on your skin. After helping the shorter man on the ground to his feet, they all backed away so as not to tower over you.

"Ye're one of them, eh, ma lady?" Your pupils shone brightly in the darkness as you focused on analyzing the older man in front of you.

"....Are ye mercenaries?" Sounded more like a statement.

"Aye ma'am" The man you have just pinned down to the floor was now brushing his suits while answering you with a grin on his face.

"Apologize for my previous acts" You glanced, "Am I yer negotiation?"

Your voice hoarse and your lips chapped due to dehydration, but still managed to deliver your words clearly. You retracted your wings and horns back inside. Couldn't stop peeking at mountain of a man leaning against the pillar, your claws which have been replaced by mankind’s fingers dug into the thick garment he handed you.

"No" the blond grunted, "The requirement was the thing, they'll get the thing."

Word for word. You silently thanked him when he finally opened his mouth and spoke, his voice low and seductive, better than you expected. The gentleman was always silent but his expressionless eyes never left you. His decisive words and gentle gestures made you drunk, years of going through your heat by yourself, controlling desires has never been this difficult to you.

"Simon" Simon, you mumbled, your lips thinned to a line as if just his name was enough for you to smile like an idiot.

"Blimey, Cap, ye saw how she held me down"

You understand why the Captain hesitated. Mercenaries’ jobs were neither easy nor safe, would’ve to pay with your life if you’re negligent. But the ridiculous hair man got his point, not only your other self could never be a burden, you alone were completely qualified for their team.

"Miss, ye ever been on battlefields?" The Captain sighed before asked you

"If the Tudors And Stuarts count" You answered bluntly, "Also an old salt on Sir Francis Drake and Anne Bonny's ships". Tilting your head, you slightly smiled as their eyes widened.

An impressed whistle was blown, the boy with the red cutaway walked over and patted the Captain's shoulder, whose face looked down and shook his head in defeat. The blond gentleman walked over to where you sat to unchain you as the oldest man cocked his head like a command, careful not to hurt you.

"Thank you" You said with sincerity, rubbing the scratched and bruised skin on your throat and wrists.

"Can ye stand, ma lady?" You nodded in response, "I still can walk, they spared my legs out", but seemed to receive disagreement from the rest.

" ‘ll carry ye" The blond spoke softly, "Allow me"

Lifting you up effortlessly, he placed you on his bulky arm and the other held the gun. Nodding to the other three, you all quietly disappeared from the dark hold.

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simpforfandom231 · 3 months

Text

The it-girl's soft side

In the bustling halls of Braxton High, where the hierarchy of popularity is as complex as the curriculum, Maeve Rosewood was the quiet enigma that defied expectations. With her soft red hair cascading like a gentle waterfall around her shoulders, and captivating blue eyes that held a world of hidden thoughts, Meave was the epitome of a shy, nerdy girl.

Her reputation as the cute, silent scholar with an undeniable flair for history was well-deserved. In the hallowed halls of academia, Maeve's brilliance shone, making her a standout student. But beyond her academic prowess, Maeve harbored a secret world of talents that few were privy to. She possessed a voice that was both soft and sweet, capable of weaving melodic tales in the form of songs, while her fingers danced effortlessly across the keys, creating harmonies that echoed with emotion. Unbeknownst to many, she was also a skilled gamer, finding solace in the pixelated adventures that awaited her on the screen.

Maeve's appearance, though elegant, betrayed her true nature. Freckles adorned her face like constellations in the night sky, a subtle reminder of the whimsical charm that lay beneath her reserved demeanor. Despite being undeniably attractive, Maeve chose the sanctuary of her books and her passions over the allure of popularity, content in the company of her two closest friends.

Ruby Landdale, the fierce companion in this trio, brought a contrasting energy to their circle. With her blond hair and brown eyes, Ruby's athletic frame hinted at a strength that complemented her bold spirit. Though not the stereotypical popular girl, Ruby exuded confidence and a love for feline companions, a facet of her personality that added an unexpected layer to her persona. While Meave found comfort in history, Ruby navigated the complexities of economics, proving that their bonds surpassed the boundaries of academics.

Completing the trio was Olivia Paxton, the brown-haired, green-eyed dynamo of the girl's soccer team. Despite her slightly higher standing on the school's social ladder, Olivia chose the genuine companionship of Meave and Ruby over the superficial allure of popularity. Her ability to stand up for herself, combined with her genuine warmth, made Olivia the bridge between the worlds of Maeve's quiet introspection and Ruby's fierce determination.

Together, Maeve, Ruby, and Olivia navigated the intricate tapestry of high school life at Braxton High, where the bonds of friendship triumphed over the superficial distinctions that sought to divide them.

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of Braxton High as Meave, Ruby, and Olivia made their way to their lockers. The rhythmic hum of chatter filled the air as students hurried to exchange books and catch up on the latest gossip. Meave deftly navigated the crowd, her fingers lightly grazing the pages of her history textbook as she approached her locker, marked with a subtle assortment of stickers that reflected her eclectic tastes. Ruby, with her characteristic confidence, strode alongside her, occasionally tossing a friendly smile or a quick nod to familiar faces. Olivia, carrying her soccer gear, brought up the rear, her green eyes scanning the bustling hallway.

As the trio began to gather their belongings, Meave overheard snippets of a conversation nearby. Huddled in a corner were Margot and Billie, Rachel Zegler's loyal minions. The air seemed to crackle with the aftermath of an incident involving Peter, a fellow student known for his passion for chemistry and his gentle nature.

Ruby's eyes narrowed as she caught wind of the conversation. "Did you hear what Rachel did to Peter in chemistry class?" she whispered to Meave and Olivia, her voice tinged with concern.

The three friends leaned in, their curiosity piqued by the brewing drama. Olivia frowned, her soccer bag hanging over her shoulder. "No, spill the details. What happened?"

Meave's soft voice joined the conversation, her eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Yeah, tell us."

Ruby, with a glance over her shoulder to ensure their conversation remained discreet, recounted the incident. "So, Peter was doing his thing in chemistry, you know, being all passionate about it, when Rachel decides to mock him. She made fun of him in front of everyone, ridiculing his enthusiasm for science."

Olivia's expression hardened. "Seriously? That's low, even for Rachel."

Ruby nodded, her blond hair bouncing with determination. "We can't let her get away with that. Peter doesn't deserve that kind of treatment."

Meave, though usually reserved, felt a surge of empathy for Peter. "We should do something. Maybe talk to him, offer support."

Olivia, her wavy brown hair cascading over her shoulders, hesitated for a moment before voicing her concern. "Guys, I get that what Rachel did to Peter is messed up, but we need to be careful. Getting involved with Rachel can make things worse for us. You know how she operates."

Ruby crossed her arms, her expression defiant. "I don't care, Liv. Peter's our friend, and we can't just stand by while Rachel bullies him. We have to do something."

Olivia sighed, her green eyes reflecting a mix of caution and empathy. "Look, I'm not saying we should ignore it, but we have to be strategic. Rachel has her claws deep in this school's social scene. If we challenge her openly, she'll make sure we regret it."

Meave, the usually reserved one, chimed in with a thoughtful tone. "Olivia has a point. We don't want to become targets ourselves. Maybe there's a way to help Peter without directly confronting Rachel."

Ruby's expression softened as she considered the potential consequences. "Fine, but we can't just let Rachel get away with it. We have to find a way to make things right for Peter without putting ourselves in the crossfire."

Olivia nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We need to be smart about this, strategize, and maybe gather more information before we take any action. We can't afford to underestimate Rachel's vindictive nature."

The three friends exchanged a determined look, silently acknowledging the delicate balance they needed to strike. While the desire to stand up for Peter burned within them, the reality of dealing with Rachel Zegler's influence demanded a more cautious approach. Braxton High, with its intricate social dynamics, would prove to be a challenging battleground, but the trio was prepared to navigate it together, ensuring justice for Peter without falling victim to Rachel's schemes.

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

In the heart of Braxton High's bustling corridors, Rachel Zegler moved with an air of calculated confidence. With her stunning dark brown hair flowing effortlessly down her back and her brown eyes radiating a mix of confidence and cunning, Rachel commanded attention wherever she went. Her killer body, sculpted through a combination of genetics and an unwavering commitment to maintaining her status, drew glances from both admirers and envious peers alike.

Freckles adorned Rachel's face, strategically placed as if to add an extra layer of charm to her already striking features. While her physical appearance was captivating, it was her sharp mind and shrewd understanding of the social dynamics that truly set her apart as Braxton High's undisputed queen bee.

As she navigated the crowded hallways, Rachel's gaze was not solely focused on her surroundings but rather on the power dynamics at play. Her two loyal minions, Margot and Billie, trailed behind her, mirroring her confident stride. Margot, with her sharp features and keen eyes, exuded a sense of unwavering loyalty, while Billie, with her flowing locks and polished demeanor, complemented the trio, forming a formidable alliance.

Rachel reveled in her position atop the social hierarchy, her influence extending like a web throughout the school. Despite her popularity, or perhaps because of it, Rachel harbored a penchant for exploiting the vulnerabilities of those who dared to challenge her. A reputation for cunning schemes and razor-sharp comebacks preceded her, leaving a trail of defeated foes in her wake.

Her interaction with Peter in chemistry class had been a calculated move, a demonstration of her prowess in maintaining control. To Rachel, it was not just about belittling an unsuspecting classmate; it was about reinforcing her dominance and instilling fear in those who dared to question her authority.

As she passed by lockers and groups of students, Rachel's thoughts focused on the intricate dance of power that defined high school life. Unbeknownst to her, a trio of determined friends had just caught wind of her latest exploit, and they were quietly plotting a course of action that would challenge the very foundations of Rachel Zegler's reign.

As Rachel Zegler and her entourage glided through the hallway, a subtle hush trailed in their wake. Meave, Olivia, and Ruby exchanged glances, recognizing the imposing force that was Rachel. Meave, however, felt an unexpected chill as her eyes locked with Rachel's confident gaze.

Caught in the intensity of that moment, Meave couldn't look away. Rachel, with her signature smirk, acknowledged the trio's presence and, to their surprise, delivered a sly wink in Meave's direction. The unexpected gesture left Meave momentarily stunned, her cheeks flushing with a mix of confusion and intrigue.

Ruby, always quick to respond, nudged Meave with a playful smirk. "Well, well, seems like the queen bee just noticed us. Or rather, noticed you, Meave."

Olivia, more cautious, shot a wary look at Rachel's departing figure. "Don't read too much into it, guys. Rachel's up to something, as always. Let's not get entangled in her games."

Meave, still processing the wink, shook her head, her soft voice carrying a note of uncertainty. "Yeah, you're probably right. Let's focus on helping Peter without getting too close to Rachel's radar."

The bell echoed through the corridors, signaling the transition to the next class. Meave and Olivia headed towards their history class, and Ruby made her way to the politics room, each carrying the weight of their respective subjects. Braxton High, with its maze of classrooms, seemed to morph into a battleground of academic pursuits.

As Meave and Olivia entered the history classroom, they found themselves amidst the familiar rows of desks arranged for the day's lesson. The room buzzed with conversations and the shuffling of papers as students settled in. Ms. Thompson, their history teacher, welcomed them with an enthusiastic smile that hinted at the passion she held for unraveling the mysteries of the past.

Taking their seats, Meave and Olivia exchanged a glance, silently acknowledging the shared journey through the labyrinth of Braxton High's academic challenges. Little did they know that the day would present them with a twist that involved none other than Rachel Zegler, the enigmatic queen bee of their high school.

Ms. Thompson announced a group assignment that would explore the socio-political implications of historical events. The anticipation in the room rose as students exchanged ideas, forming alliances for the task at hand.

Meanwhile, in the adjacent politics classroom, Ruby found herself surrounded by eager minds ready to dissect the complexities of governance and power. Mr. Hastings, the politics teacher, outlined their project – an analysis of contemporary political events with a focus on diplomacy and international relations.

Back in the history class, as Meave and Olivia were contemplating potential group members, a familiar voice cut through the air. Rachel, with her trademark confidence, spoke up, addressing the entire class.

"Hey, Meave! How about we team up for this project? I think our combined brilliance could make it a masterpiece."

Meave's blue eyes widened slightly at the unexpected proposal. Olivia shot Rachel a discerning look, sensing the ulterior motives that often accompanied Rachel's actions.

Rachel continued with a sly smile, "I've heard your insights into historical events are quite intriguing. It could be an enlightening collaboration."

Meave, though taken aback, managed a nod. "Um, sure, I guess."

Olivia, however, intervened with a raised eyebrow. "Rachel, what's the catch? You never just team up for the sake of academics."

Rachel chuckled, her brown eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, Olivia, you always see through me. Let's just say I find Meave's perspective on history fascinating, and I thought it would be a shame not to explore it together. Besides, I'm sure we'll learn so much from each other."

The air in the classroom crackled with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism as the trio reluctantly formed an unexpected alliance.

As the history class came to an end, the students gathered their belongings, ready to navigate the next challenge – a joint project exploring the intricacies of historical events. As Meave and Olivia exited the classroom, the lingering unease from Rachel's proposal still hung in the air.

In the crowded hallway, Rachel approached Meave with a confident sway in her hips, her dark brown hair cascading gracefully over her shoulders. The subtle hum of whispered conversations seemed to pause momentarily as Rachel leaned in, her lips curving into a sly smile.

"Meave, darling, I'm excited about our little project rendezvous at my place. I'm sure we'll find the perfect mix of brains and beauty to make it unforgettable," Rachel purred with a teasing tone that sent an unexpected shiver down Meave's spine.

Meave, momentarily stunned, managed a polite smile. "Uh, sure. Your place it is."

Rachel shot a wink at Meave before gliding away, leaving an air of mystery in her wake. As Rachel disappeared into the hallway crowd, Olivia and Ruby joined Meave, their eyes questioning.

"What was that about?" Olivia asked, her green eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Meave shook her head, bewildered. "I have no idea. She just said we'll meet up at her house for the project."

Ruby chimed in, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Well, that's unexpected. Be careful, Meave. Rachel's not known for being straightforward."

As the trio made their way through the hallways, they couldn't help but speculate about Rachel's motives. The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, and the three friends found themselves outside, contemplating the impending collaboration.

Nervous anticipation gripped Meave as she pulled up to Rachel's imposing residence. The grandeur of the estate, coupled with the knowledge of Rachel's formidable reputation, left her with an undeniable sense of unease. As she approached the front door, Meave couldn't shake the feeling that this collaboration might prove to be more complicated than any historical event they were meant to explore.

Taking a deep breath, Meave pressed the doorbell, and the echo of its chime resonated through the lavish halls of Rachel's home. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Rachel standing there in all her casually elegant glory. The sight left Meave momentarily speechless.

Rachel, sporting sweatpants and a snug tank top, exuded an effortless allure that clashed with the extravagant surroundings. Despite the casual attire, there was an undeniable grace in the way Rachel carried herself. Meave couldn't help but feel a pang of self-consciousness, suddenly aware of her own more modest outfit.

With a flick of her dark brown hair, Rachel greeted Meave with a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Well, look who's here. Meave, darling, do come in."

As Meave stepped inside, her eyes inadvertently wandered, taking in the opulence of Rachel's surroundings. The grand staircase, the chandeliers casting a warm glow, and the air infused with a subtle hint of luxury—Meave couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water.

Rachel, unfazed by the palpable discomfort, led the way to the living room, where textbooks and notes were scattered across the coffee table. With a theatrical flourish, Rachel gestured for Meave to take a seat.

"Make yourself at home, dear. We have a project to conquer, after all," Rachel declared with a mockingly sweet smile, her diva attitude undiminished by the casual attire.

Meave, feeling a mix of nerves and bewilderment, sat down, arranging her materials with a sense of awkwardness. Rachel, on the other hand, took a seat with the regality of a queen on her throne, completely at ease in her own domain.

Throughout the evening, Rachel maintained her mean-girl, diva attitude, punctuating the collaborative effort with subtle jabs and condescending remarks. Meave, determined to rise above the tension, focused on the task at hand, though the challenge of navigating Rachel's complex personality proved more daunting than any historical puzzle.

As the night wore on, Meave couldn't shake the feeling that this collaboration would leave an indelible mark on the dynamics of Braxton High.

As the evening unfolded, Meave found herself surprised by the unexpected turn of events. Instead of the anticipated clash of egos, Rachel was surprisingly engaged in the project, working alongside Meave with a level of dedication that surpassed Meave's initial expectations.

With textbooks spread across the coffee table, the two girls delved into their exploration of historical events, tracing the threads of the past with an intellectual fervor that bridged the gap between their divergent personalities. Rachel's insightful contributions and genuine interest in the subject matter left Meave in awe.

In the midst of their collaborative efforts, Rachel interrupted their research with an unexpected offer. "Meave, do you need anything? A drink, perhaps? Snacks?"

Meave, taken aback by the sincerity in Rachel's voice, hesitated before responding, "Uh, sure, I guess a drink would be nice."

Rachel, with a faint smile, gracefully rose from her seat. "I'll be right back."

As Rachel disappeared into the depths of her extravagant home, Meave exchanged a perplexed glance with herself. This wasn't the Rachel Zegler she had expected – the manipulative mean girl was momentarily replaced by someone surprisingly considerate.

Returning with a tray of refreshments, Rachel set it down on the table. "Here you go, Meave. Tea or coffee?"

Meave, still adjusting to this unexpected turn of events, stammered, "Tea is fine, thank you."

Rachel poured a cup of tea, her movements fluid and deliberate. The two girls continued their work, sipping tea and exchanging thoughts on historical events. The walls of animosity seemed to crumble as the evening progressed, revealing a side of Rachel that Meave had never imagined.

As they worked together, Rachel subtly dropped her usual diva facade, showing a genuine interest in Meave's opinions and insights. It was as if the layers of Braxton High's social hierarchy were temporarily set aside, leaving only the shared passion for their project.

Unbeknownst to Meave, Rachel was harboring a secret crush, carefully concealed beneath her composed exterior. Her interactions with Meave, fueled by a desire to impress and connect on a more personal level, revealed a vulnerability that few were privy to.

As the night wore on, Rachel's mansion transformed from an imposing fortress to a space where two unlikely allies shared a common goal. Meave, fully immersed in the project and captivated by Rachel's unexpected kindness, couldn't deny the sense of camaraderie that had developed.

As the evening progressed, Meave found herself more and more captivated by the unexpected soft side of Rachel Zegler. The tea, snacks, and engaging conversation made the collaboration on their history project a surprisingly pleasant experience. Meave couldn't help but marvel at the transformation happening before her eyes.

"Who would've thought Rachel Zegler could actually be nice?" Meave teased, a playful grin on her face.

Rachel chuckled, her eyes twinkling. "Well, Meave Rosewood, there's always more to people than meets the eye. You might be surprised if you take the time to look."

The banter continued, each comment and exchange revealing another layer of the complex personalities beneath the surface. For a brief moment, it felt like the walls of Braxton High's social hierarchy had crumbled, leaving only the genuine connection between two individuals bound by a shared interest.

However, as they say, old habits die hard. Rachel, ever the it girl, couldn't resist the allure of her mean girl persona for long. When Meave playfully pushed the boundaries of their newfound camaraderie, teasing Rachel about her temporary departure from the usual diva attitude, Rachel's defense mechanisms snapped back into place.

"You know, Meave, this little truce doesn't mean you get to forget who I am," Rachel retorted with a smirk, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I'm still Rachel Zegler, and this project doesn't change a thing."

Meave, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, decided to tread lightly. "Fair enough, Rachel. Let's just focus on the project."

The tension lingered, but the work continued. As Meave reached for her tea, the cup slipped from her fingers, and the liquid spilled onto Rachel's lap. Time seemed to freeze as Meave's eyes widened in horror.

"Oh, my gosh, Rachel, I'm so sorry!" Meave exclaimed, scrambling to grab some tissues to help clean up the mess.

Rachel, at first appearing shocked, quickly recovered and gave a dramatic sigh. "Well, isn't this just perfect? Ruining my outfit."

As Meave dabbed at the wet spots, Rachel's gaze shifted, and a sly smirk played on her lips. Meave, oblivious to Rachel's devious thoughts, continued apologizing.

"It was an accident, Rachel. I didn't mean to—"

Rachel interrupted, her tone dripping with mischief. "Accident or not, Meave, you really should be more careful."

It was then that Meave noticed Rachel's subtle change in demeanor. The smirk on Rachel's face widened as she saw Meave's gaze unintentionally shift to where the tea had left its mark on Rachel's tank top.

"Oh, what's this? Admiring the view, Meave?" Rachel teased, her diva attitude firmly back in place.

Meave, caught off guard, blushed furiously. "No! I was just trying to help clean up!"

Rachel, relishing the moment, laughed. "Well, consider it a lesson, Meave. Even when I'm being nice, I'm not one to be underestimated."

The atmosphere, once filled with camaraderie, had shifted back to the familiar dynamic between the quiet historian and the enigmatic queen bee. As Meave awkwardly tried to navigate the aftermath of the spilled tea, she couldn't shake the feeling that the delicate balance they had struck might be more fragile than she had initially thought. The rest of the evening would reveal whether this unexpected collaboration could withstand the challenges that lay ahead.

Despite the accidental spill and the return of Rachel's diva persona, Meave couldn't shake the lingering embarrassment. The air in Rachel's opulent home felt charged with a tension that had nothing to do with the history project.

As Meave continued to mop up the spilled tea, Rachel, with an air of innocence that contradicted her reputation, pretended not to notice Meave's discomfort. She casually strolled to the kitchen, leaving Meave momentarily flustered.

"So, Meave, what do you think about delving into the cultural impact of the Renaissance?" Rachel called from the kitchen, her tone light and seemingly innocent.

Meave, trying to regain her composure, responded, "Uh, sure, that sounds like a good angle to explore."

As Rachel returned, Meave couldn't help but notice the subtle sway in her hips and the way her tank top clung to her slightly dampened skin. Unbeknownst to Meave, Rachel was orchestrating a silent seduction, tapping into the art of allure that had made her the it girl of Braxton High.

Rachel leaned over the table, her eyes locking onto Meave's with a mischievous glint. "You know, Meave, it's surprising how working on a project can create such... intense moments."

Meave, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone, stammered, "Uh, yeah, I guess so."

Rachel's lips curled into a sly smile as she leaned even closer. "You seem a bit flustered, Meave. Is everything alright?"

Meave, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, nodded awkwardly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just focus on the project."

Rachel, seemingly unfazed, continued to toy with Meave's composure. "Oh, I fully intend to focus on the project, Meave. We wouldn't want any distractions, would we?"

As they delved deeper into the Renaissance, Rachel's subtle touches and lingering glances heightened the tension in the room. Meave found herself growing increasingly hot and bothered, her focus wavering between the history project and the enigmatic girl sitting across from her.

With each innocent comment and sultry gesture, Rachel maintained an air of detachment, leaving Meave to navigate the unfamiliar territory of desire and confusion. The it girl of Braxton High had managed to weave a subtle web of seduction without overtly crossing any lines.

As the night wore on, the temperature in Rachel's home seemed to rise, and Meave couldn't shake the feeling that she was caught in a delicate dance orchestrated by the irresistible queen bee. Little did she know, Rachel's enigmatic charm was just one facet of the complex game that would unfold in the corridors and classrooms of Braxton High.

As the night progressed, Rachel couldn't help but revel in the effect she had on Meave. The subtle shifts in her body language, the nervous glances, and the occasional stammering—all signs that Meave was more affected than she let on. The it girl of Braxton High had always enjoyed the art of influence, but tonight, she found a different thrill in knowing she held a unique power over Meave Rosewood.

As they continued to work on their history project, Rachel couldn't resist pushing the boundaries further. She leaned in closer, her lips inches from Meave's ear, as she whispered with feigned innocence, "You seem a little distracted, Meave. Is the Renaissance getting to you, or is it something else?"

Meave, acutely aware of Rachel's proximity, felt a shiver run down her spine. She stammered, "I... I'm just trying to focus, Rachel. Let's finish the project."

Rachel pulled back, her brown eyes dancing with mischief. "Of course, Meave. Focus is essential. But you know, sometimes a little distraction can be... enlightening."

Meave, attempting to divert her attention back to the project, found herself increasingly drawn into the magnetic pull of Rachel's teasing. The air between them became charged with an electric intensity that neither could deny.

As they discussed historical figures and events, Rachel's playful touches and suggestive comments continued to fuel the flames of desire. It became evident that Rachel wasn't just interested in completing the project; she was reveling in the game of seduction, relishing the power dynamics that unfolded between them.

"You have this incredible way of making history come alive, Rachel," Meave remarked, her voice betraying a mix of admiration and something more.

Rachel, with a coy smile, replied, "Well, I believe in adding a personal touch to everything I do. Keeps things interesting, don't you think?"

The tension in the room reached a palpable peak, and Rachel, sensing Meave's growing vulnerability, decided to take the teasing a step further. As she reached for a book on the shelf, her fingers brushed against Meave's hand, sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.

"Oh, sorry, Meave," Rachel said, her voice dripping with insincere innocence. "I didn't mean to intrude."

Meave, now fully aware of the game Rachel was playing, tried to maintain composure. "It's... it's fine, Rachel. Let's just finish this."

As the night wore on, Rachel's calculated maneuvers pushed Meave to the edge. The it girl, reveling in her ability to turn the tables, couldn't resist a final, daring move. With a smirk, she leaned in, her lips brushing against Meave's ear.

"I must say, Meave, you're quite the fascinating project," Rachel whispered, her breath sending shivers down Meave's spine. "I wonder how far this distraction will take us."

As Rachel pulled away, the room hung in a charged silence. Meave, flustered and intrigued, couldn't deny the magnetic pull that Rachel had skillfully woven around them. The it girl of Braxton High had succeeded in turning a simple history project into a complex web of desire and intrigue.

The charged atmosphere in Rachel's luxurious home reached a boiling point, and Meave, feeling the intensity of the moment, couldn't resist the magnetic pull any longer. In a bold move, she closed the distance between her and Rachel, capturing her lips in a kiss that held a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as Meave's heartbeat echoed in her ears. The unexpectedness of the kiss left Rachel momentarily stunned, but as Meave pulled back, a flicker of surprise and something deeper flashed in Rachel's brown eyes.

Meave, overwhelmed by the rush of emotions, stammered, "I... I don't know what came over me, Rachel. I'm sorry."

Before she could fully comprehend the implications of her actions, Meave attempted to retreat, but Rachel, ever the enigmatic manipulator, seized the opportunity. With a swift, almost predatory grace, Rachel pulled Meave back into the embrace, her lips claiming Meave's in a more assertive kiss.

The atmosphere crackled with a newfound intensity as Rachel, now in control, deepened the kiss. Meave, torn between desire and apprehension, couldn't deny the electrifying chemistry that existed between them. Rachel's soft, teasing demeanor had given way to a more dominating presence, and Meave found herself surrendering to the unexpected allure of the it girl.

Breaking the kiss, Rachel whispered against Meave's lips, "You're full of surprises, Meave Rosewood. But don't worry; I can be just as unpredictable."

A mix of emotions danced in Meave's blue eyes—confusion, desire, and a hint of fear. Rachel, however, remained composed, her expression revealing a complexity that transcended the usual mean girl facade. Behind the confident exterior, there was a softness reserved exclusively for Meave.

As Rachel continued to explore the boundaries of desire, Meave, lost in the intoxicating whirlwind of sensations, couldn't help but be captivated by the magnetic pull of Rachel's touch. The it girl, now revealing a more vulnerable side, guided the dance between them, each movement a testament to the unspoken connection that had ignited between them.

Meave's initial boldness had triggered a shift in the dynamics of their relationship, and as Rachel continued to dominate the girl with both finesse and a hint of genuine affection, Meave found herself teetering on the edge of an emotional precipice.

"I never knew you could be like this, Rachel," Meave whispered, her voice laced with a mix of awe and vulnerability.

Rachel, with a subtle smile, replied, "People are full of surprises, Meave. You just have to be willing to explore."

The night unfolded in a symphony of desire, a delicate dance between two souls navigating uncharted territory. The it girl of Braxton High had found herself entangled in a connection that transcended the superficial, and Meave, despite her initial reservations, couldn't deny the undeniable allure of Rachel Zegler.

As dawn approached, the tangled threads of desire and intimacy began to weave a complex tapestry that neither girl could easily unravel. The corridors of Braxton High, witness to their secret liaison, would become the silent keepers of a story that transcended the usual high school drama.

Little did Meave and Rachel realize that the complexities of their connection would redefine the very fabric of their lives, creating a bond that surpassed the expectations of their peers.

In the hushed aftermath of their intense make-out session, Meave found herself panting softly, her lips swollen and her senses ablaze. The room was cloaked in a charged silence, broken only by the rhythmic beats of their rapid breaths. Rachel, her usual mean girl facade now completely shattered, giggled softly, her brown eyes filled with an unexpected tenderness.

"Well, that was unexpected," Rachel remarked, her voice carrying a playful lilt.

Meave, still catching her breath, managed a shy smile. "Yeah, it definitely was."

The air between them crackled with a newfound vulnerability as Rachel, usually the picture of confidence, hesitated for a moment. A soft, almost wistful expression crossed her features before she spoke, her tone uncharacteristically sincere.

"You know, Meave, I've had this crush on you for years. It's just something I never thought I'd actually act on."

Meave's eyes widened in surprise, the weight of Rachel's confession settling between them. The it girl of Braxton High, now stripped of her mean girl armor, revealed a side that Meave had never expected. The unexpected sincerity in Rachel's voice left Meave grappling with a mix of emotions.

"You... you have a crush on me?" Meave repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rachel, seemingly unfazed by the admission, nodded. "Yeah, I guess I do. It's weird, right? But I can't deny the attraction, the way you've always intrigued me."

Meave, still processing the revelation, felt a strange mix of flattery and confusion. The lines between their roles at Braxton High had blurred beyond recognition, leaving them standing on unfamiliar ground.

"I had no idea," Meave admitted, her voice a fragile whisper.

Rachel, with a soft smile, reached out to gently tuck a strand of Meave's red hair behind her ear. "Well, secrets have a way of staying hidden, especially in high school. But tonight, everything's out in the open."

The room seemed to shrink, leaving them suspended in a moment of uncharted intimacy. Rachel, typically the puppeteer of social dynamics, now found herself in uncharted territory, her heart exposed in a way that went against her carefully curated image.

"I never expected tonight to turn out like this," Meave confessed, her blue eyes searching Rachel's for understanding.

Rachel chuckled softly, a genuine warmth in her eyes. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it? Sometimes, we end up exactly where we never thought we'd be."

As the night wore on, the two girls navigated the uncharted waters of their newfound connection. Rachel's mean girl attitude had given way to a softer, more genuine demeanor, and Meave found herself drawn to the complexity that lay beneath the surface.

Their conversations ebbed and flowed, touching on everything from high school drama to shared dreams and fears. The layers of Braxton High's social hierarchy seemed to dissipate, leaving only the vulnerability of two girls who, against all odds, had found a connection that defied expectations.

Little did Meave and Rachel know that their unexpected journey would continue to unfold, revealing twists and turns that would redefine the contours of their lives. The corridors of Braxton High, once witness to their secret liaison, now held the echoes of a story that transcended the boundaries of friendship, desire, and the unspoken connections that bound them together.

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A/N: simply based on Mean Girls :)

#rachel zegler #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird x you #fandom #lucy gray x fem!reader #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #fanfic #tbosas

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wallisninety-six · 8 months

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The Quiet, Dark, Landmark Rock Experiment of the Beach Boys' "Today!"

In 1964, The Beatles arrived to America and began the British Invasion, causing the Beach Boys to play catch up commercially and artistically- they released four albums in just under a year, and started laboriously touring nonstop as a result- and those results were consequential to bandleader Brian Wilson.

Brian had already been producing, arranging, and preforming in not only the band's output, but also for other artists like Glen Campbell, and stressed hard over work, his image & artistic output, and his rushed marriage with Marilyn Rovell. And eventually, while on tour- he suffered a serious panic attack that was so bad, that he soon moved away from touring to focus solely on songwriting & production...and the first major result of it all, is the 1965 album "Today!"

Today!- by many accounts, is a really *weird* album and sticks out from not only the classic surf-era of the band, but also from the post-Pet Sounds period. The latter half of the album (and the whole work in general) is often talked about in comparison to Pet Sounds, which makes sense- but I think doing that does Today! a great disservice to what the album meant in 1965- because it's endearing, strange and even innovative completely on its own terms.

Today! was divided into uptempo songs on side 1, and dramatic ballads in side 2- and the great talents of session group The Wrecking Crew were brought to do the instrumentals for both; five of their members had worked on previous Beach Boys albums like All Summer Long, but with Today!- they had a fuller, two dozen-strong crew to help create a new, bold sound in rock and roll: progressive, atmospheric, and orchestral. And more than ever before, their sound plus Brian's increasingly complex compositions and the inclusion of instruments not heard in rock helps elevate the album's sound itself to whole new levels.

The album's ideas of a more progressive rock were very novel in a world of classic rock & roll, traditional vocal pop, and then-growing folk rock movement- that barely any major act sought to go in a similar direction in rock aside from the equally-ambitious Beatles. It made the intro "Do You Wanna Dance" have a borderline power pop sound, give "When I Grow Up to be a Man" a twinkling baroque shimmer, and "Kiss Me Baby" that much more theatrical and thunderous- with Boys' harmonies in one of their strongest forms for this album, too. And not only that, Dennis Wilson sings lead for the first time on two tracks- showcasing his deep crooner vocal style and an implicit message that this isn't the youthful boy band you know anymore.

The subjects of these songs itself helped veer mainstream rock lyricism towards something much more brutally confessional and (for better or worse) much more glaringly honest and autobiographical, to an almost uncomfortable extent- the worries of growing up and your future being bad, relationship issues of mutual distrust & suspicion- but also still wanting it all to last. Brian's lyricism was much more overtly paranoid, and much more explicitly sad- sometimes in ways that Pet Sounds wasn't. This is reflected in some songs Brian sang lead in like "She Knows Me Too Well", his voice was much more hoarse and emotional in a way that goes beyond *just* singing a sad song...

Potentially leading to the more emotional lyrics and performance- Brian started to drink much more, and he used marijuana for the first time- leading directly to the hazy sadness of "Please Let Me Wonder"- a hint of Brian's willingness to go beyond music and go *deeper* within himself to make a more personal, creative statement. All of this makes the last track more glaring- it isn't even a song but part of an interview with the band, almost certainly put there by the Boys/Capitol Records to lift the downer mood of side 2 and show that "everyone's okay!" (Brian's wife, Marilyn even appears in it chatting with the group)- but this inclusion at the very end almost feels as if the entire album we just listened to was what was brewing behind the interview the whole time.

This is the album that cemented the band's image change that moved away from that iconic surf image that started in All Summer Long, and it helped chart a new path for the band that led to great future success- But things wouldn't be so rosy. After all, the lead-up to this album saw significant and growing vulnerabilities to Brian's psyche even as he was quickly & radically expanding his artistic talents...and this was hinted in the seemingly skippable last track where Mike Love utters a line that- in hindsight, is incredibly ominous-sounding:

"Brian, we keep waiting for you to make a mistake."

#the beach boys #beach boys #brian wilson #today!#the beach boys today!#the beach boys today #1965 #60s music #dennis wilson #the beatles #music history #music production #album review #cw: alcohol #cw: weed #cw: drugs #mike love

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the-shrouded-shards · 2 months

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The Story of the Seven Shards | Aftermath, Eschyl

When the Shroud first came over the world, it was...difficult... to devise a solution. Every color was divided and trapped within their own personal wars and woes. It was understood among the many people that the newly born infection was a sort of Darkness—something they had overcome long, long ago—with the way it darkened the earth below their feet and severed people’s minds from their bodies. However, the infection seemed to be greatly beyond the intelligence of Darkness. It remained a hivemind, but it was as if the dark had learned from its past mistakes, learned from the people and learned from watching all these years... slowly spreading among the shadows.

Naturally, their earliest ideas related to the Hero. After all they had gone through, all they had overcome, who could stop them when united now? Surely, their coming together again would solve the problem easily. Ever since the great enemies of old, particularly the Void, their civilizations had grown amazingly in power. But they faced the age-long dilemma of every new loss of peace; their lack of crystals would sacrifice their immediate protection. They would have to rely again on a Hero, on one sole person.

... ... … ...

After about a year passed since the Shroud’s dawning, the rulers of each race were finally able to peacefully meet together face-to-face. [And so were the [REDACTED].] They had brought their crystals and were prepared to negotiate about creating the Hero. The discussion reflected their desperation for help. [The windows are darker than they should be.] They spoke for hours of candidates, armies, morals, massacres… and after that time had passed, they came to an agreement. [Nobody notices the flashing light outside.] A plan to protect all of their people together. They would still create a Hero, but to make things manageable they could—! [The signal flares fly into the sky.]

—An explosion shatters the walls, the windows. The meeting room caves and collapses.

The infection spreads in seconds across the ground like lightning etching its white, jagged scars into the skies. [The Queen of the Indigos smiles, swirls of a darker purple barely hidden beneath her cloak. She disappears with the cool night breeze. Was it her?]

All is lost.

The kings and queens of the Chromatics are found dead and infected under the rubble. Within a day, they will have decayed into Nothing.

When their people arrive to the scene, duly disturbed by the destruction and the losses of their rulers, the area is drowned in ash. They notice that some places in the stone and mist… glow. A dim shimmering among the dull gray ruins. A pulse.

49 shards.

Each chromatic crystal had split into seven pieces. [The witnesses who were there could tell you about the way the shards somehow seemed in... pain.]

So small, so weak...

... ... … ...

The apprentices, or the newly appointed rulers, made the collective decision to distribute the shards among the seven races. It was their only hope of protection.

A shard of each color to a shell of each ruler. The kingdoms were so quiet.

The unity and harmony that the Chromatics kindled before the assassinations began to crumble all over again. Distrust, disbelief, disparity. [War will break out in 2 years time.]

There are movements to unite again. To rekindle the flame. It spreads like wildfire, but remains unheard.

The people of one movement retreat to a distant island with three stolen shards. Red, orange, yellow. They call themselves "Eschyl—" and it means "hope."

Half a century passes.

A siren sounds throughout the island.

[Where are the shards?]

The sky goes dark.

The Movement resurfaces.

[But which one?]

#the shrouded shards #HELP THERE ARE SO MANY TENSE CHANGES #THE PACING IS SO WEIRD?#But i lobe them so much #Yall are not ready for Sabre to come into the lore #Oh ny gosh #THIS IS WEITTEN BADLY. Ok

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broitsf-ckingfreezing · 8 months

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Fandom vs. Dooku: Religious Affiliation

Okay, my first rant has been making the rounds, so I wanted to come back and do a more in-depth approach (WITH EVIDENCE). Last time I was rapidly keyboard mashing on my phone whilst simultaneously howling my grievances to the moon, so hopefully everything should be a smidge more... coherent in this one.

This is taking HOURS to type up, so everything will be split into different posts. Possibly, idk. Look I have opinions and ADHD. Gotta peel those layers back like a particularly rancid onion.

(thanks @eloquentmoon for the dividers!)

Something that Star Wars as a fandom often fails to realise is that Jedi Master Dooku (or Yan Dooku, I suppose, if that's your headcanon) and Sith Apprentice Darth Tyranus are not the same. Well, they are literally the same person, but that's not what I'm getting at. The point I am trying to make here is that a character can in fact be an inherently good guy and also a genocidal psychopath. In Star Wars, one is not born a Sith. You cannot just... be a Sith and nothing else. Much is the same with a Jedi. One is either born with the ability to reach/manipulate the Force or they aren't (Force-nulls, for sake of clarity), they are not born Jedi or Sith. Jedi and Sith are religious orders. Like Protestants and Catholics, Jedi and Sith follow the same faith but with different philosophies and restrictions (or complete lack thereof regarding the Sith; anything is game if it eventually means absolute power).

Let's take a look at the best established religious order of Star Wars in canon and Legends. Mandalorians.

(A GIF of the Armourer in The Mandalorian. The subtitles read: "According to Creed, one may only be redeemed in the living waters beneath the mines of Mandalore.")

In Legends, to be Mandalorian is to dedicate yourself to the Resol'nare or the Six Actions:

Wearing the armour

Speaking the language

Defense of oneself and one's family

Raising children as Mandalorian (this is the Way)

Contributing to the clan's welfare

Answering the call of the Mand'alor or Sole Ruler

Canonically, to go against the word of the Creed, such as removing your helmet to outsiders or non-clan, was to declare yourself dar'manda or No Longer Mandalorian (not stated explicitly in canon, but widely accepted in fanon/features in SW: The Old Republic). In Christian equivalent, this would be committing sin. As shown in the GIF above, one could be redeemed for "sinning" in Mandalore's living waters. Kind of like confession and repentance in Christianity.

And like the many differing dedications to the concept of God, like Jedi and Sith as you will soon see, Mandalorians have their thoughts on the Force. The only difference here is that where God is not provable beyond doubt, the Force is. Its existence cannot be denied. However, how the Force is/should be interpreted varies from person to person, from religion to religion.

The Jedi Code

Jedi and Sith also follow Creeds.

(An image of the Jedi mantra in Basic and Aurebesh. It reads: "There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the force.")

The Jedi Code places great emphasis on compassion and bettering one's self; particularly, maintaining control over your emotions and learning to let go. Here especially is where fans like to pick and choose their understanding of canon like rooting through a jar of lollipops at the doctor's to get the orange one. So, I'm gonna highlight my point here with some big ass text:

Jedi do not condemn emotion

(be warned: LOTS of italics incoming)

(An edit of a still of Anakin Skywalker from Attack of the Clones. The text reads: "Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden. Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is central to a Jedi's life.)

Sure, where Anakin is obviously not the prime example of what a Jedi should be, and he is clearly trying to butter up Padme to embrace his frankly awful flirting attempts, we must also remember that he had been living by the Jedi Code for almost (if not exactly) ten years at this point. AND. AND AND AND. We have IMPERICAL EVIDENCE from the Clone Wars that while not often stated outright (if at all; forgive me, I only just reached the Mortis Arc and believe me, I have OPINIONS), Jedi DO love unconditionally.

(A GIF from The Clone Wars of Mace Windu. The subtitle reads: "I'm going to do whatever I can to help these people.")

Often, their first instinct unless guided otherwise by alternate intel or the Force itself, is to have faith in those who would call upon them for help. There's literally an entire movie about Ahsoka and Anakin delivering the child of Jabba the Motherfucking HUTT back to him. They could've killed the child. Held him for ransom until Jabba conceded to a beneficial alliance. Instead, they hold to the hope that Jabba would hold to some kind of honour as a parent and allow an alliance negotiation on good faith. Jabba. A literal owner of SLAVES. Who planned, because of intel from a Sith Lord, to stab the Jedi in the back.

I bring your attention to this iconic line from my last post:

(A GIF of Ki-Adi Mundi from Attack of the Clones. The subtitle reads: "He is a political idealist, not a murderer)

He is talking about Dooku, ex-Jedi, now publicly politically aligned with and the leader of the Separatist movement: AKA the "let's leave the Republic because we believe them and, by extension, the Jedi, to be corrupt" crew. He is a mark of shame upon the order. One of the Lost Twenty--Legends lore, for those who don't understand, is that there have only been twenty Jedi (including Dooku) ever to leave the Order past achieving Master status)--and yet, they still honour him as one of their own, literally saying: "he was once one of us." If that isn't a sign of unconditional compassion, then I'll eat my lightsaber collection.

I now move on to this:

(A GIF from Attack of the Clones of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The subtitle reads: "Don't let your personal feelings get in the way!")

To be in control of yourself and your reactions isn't to abandon emotion entirely. That is literally impossible. In fact, emotions are valuable to Jedi. However, they are taught to be mindful of how emotions can affect their logical reasoning.

When Obi-Wan Kenobi is ordered to hunt down Darth Vader, whom has just sworn himself to the Sith Lord and literally murdered possibly hundreds of Jedi Masters, Knights, Padawans, and Initiates by his own hand, he actually abandons his logical reasoning and refuses to kill the man he raised and fought beside for the last 13 years.

(A GIF from Star Wars III: The Revenge of the Sith of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The subtitles read: "You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.")

This is a direct parallel to Anakin's refusal to kill recently-revealed Sith Lord Palpatine, Darth Sidious. Both of these instances were done for entirely selfish reasons.

Anakin twists a tenet of the Code upon its head and refuses to kill Sidious because, at the time, he is without a weapon, and Jedi are sworn never to kill an unarmed opponent. Logically, we must reason that these rules do NOT apply to the Sith because A) they had been thought extinct and therefore didn't need exceptions written into the Code, B) it is literally proven within that very same scene that an unarmed Sith Lord is still extremely dangerous, and C) Jedi are sworn to uphold the balance of the Force within themselves and the galaxy, therefore the Sith must be destroyed. In this moment, Anakin has allowed his fear of his wife and unborn children dying to cloud his judgement, allowed the Lord to live, and subsequently doomed the galaxy.

Obi-Wan, canonically a far better Jedi than Anakin, allows his love for the man he raised to stop him from killing him. Even out of mercy as Anakin burns in the heat of Mustafar. Yes, he walks away, believing Anakin will certainly die, but again: an unarmed Sith (literally because ya boy has NO ARMS, lmao) is still extremely dangerous. Just as Maul survived from literally being sliced in half, so did Anakin survive Mustafar. Allowing love, grief, desperation to cloud his judgement, Obi-Wan has (although unknowingly until the Obi-Wan Kenobi series set ten years later) assisted in dooming the galaxy.

It is not Obi-Wan's love for his former-padawan that has done this. It is his refusal to let him go, his fear of being the one who has to kill Anakin, despite being the only one capable of doing so because of Anakin's incredible skill and power.

Despite these contradictions: Obi-Wan Kenobi is still a good guy, and Anakin Skywalker is a bad guy.

Obi-Wan would go on to repent for the rest of his life, cutting himself off from the Force to hide his presence and watch over Luke Skywalker on Tatooine, even though the Lars family do not welcome him at all. And he will go to great lengths, putting himself in constant danger, to save Leia Organa. When this is all over, he will face his student one last time and sacrifice himself to ensure the safety of the children, to give the darkened galaxy just one more chance at hope.

(And, as an aside, Obi-Wan's final sacrifice is also to teach Luke about the Jedi tenet of letting go and dedicating yourself to something greater than your own wants and physical being, just as Qui-Gon did for Obi-Wan decades before.)

Anakin, in the meantime, Darth Vader by this point, is literally running around blowing up planets. Let me repeat that: BLOWING UP PLANETS. With billions if not trillions of lifeforms on them. And also murdering Jedi Purge survivors. And, you know, killing basically anyone that doesn't agree with the rule of the Empire. Also, enslaving a lot of people. Like, a lot of people. Including the clones he once thought brothers until he... idk, kills them all? They all die of rapid old age? I'm not exactly sure what happens to them.

Obi-Wan loved unconditionally. He was compassionate. As was in accordance with his Creed.

Anakin Skywalker was possessive. He loved only that which he wanted and that which loved him in return, but only if it was love to his standards. Obi-Wan, who surely loved him as a brother and a son, tried to stop him from taking the galaxy, therefore he had to destroy his former Master.

This is what attachment is.

Unwillingness to let go of something you can no longer have.

Do you pro-genocide fans think Obi-Wan wanted Qui-Gon Jinn to die? He literally cradles him in his arms and cries, for goodness' sake. And do you know what Qui-Gon does in his last moments? He does not fear for himself. He does not tell Obi-Wan everything will be okay. Because he knows it will. He knows Obi-Wan will be okay. Because his padawan will mourn, but he will also accept that it was Qui-Gon's time to pass into the Force. And he knows that Obi-Wan knows that he will always be with him in the Force. There is no death. There is the Force.

What he does instead is so loving and compassionate and so caring. All he wants in his final moments is to make sure that Anakin, the boy in his care, will be safe.

(A GIF from Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace of Qui-Gon Jinn comforting Obi-Wan Kenobi as he dies. He reaches up and brushes Obi-Wan's face with his fingertips)

Those who can see that GIF, look at it and tell me that it is not a highly emotional, beautifully intimate moment between a dying father and his son. Look me in the eyes and tell me that and I will call you a liar because your pants are on fire, mother fucker.

The Sith Code

We have a better understanding of the Jedi Code than we do the Sith, largely because Sith are chaotic pathological liars who constantly break their own rules.

(A GIF from Star Wars I: The Phantom Menace of Yoda and Mace Windu. The subtitles read: "Always two there are. No more, no less. A master and an apprentice.")

Only two, huh? Then tell me, Tyranus and Sidious:

WHO THE HELL IS THIS?!

(An image of Asajj Ventress from Star Wars: The Clone Wars wielding two red lightsabers)

Like Satanism to Christianity, the Sith Code stands as a direct and deliberate contradiction to the Jedi Code.

(An image of the Sith Code in Basic and Aurebesh. It reads: "Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The force shall free me.")

Let's take a quick look at the two Creeds side by side:

(An image of the Sith Code (left) and the Jedi Code (right). The one on the left reads: "Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength. Through strength I gain power. Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken. The force shall free me." The one on the right reads: "There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the force.")

Pretty big differences there.

One of these Creeds is dedicated to learning, maintaining balance in the Force, and achieving personal betterment through peace of mind. The other is dedicated to becoming strong, powerful, and unbeatable by comparing putting the needs of the many before the wants of yourself to slavery.

I'll let you take a guess which one is which.

I mean, it is almost explicitly said that an important initiation process for becoming a Sith is to fucking murder a Jedi. In Tales of the Jedi, which is considered canon in the current state of the series (meaning should someone with authoritative control over Star Wars later retcon this, then it will no longer be canon), Dooku kills Master Yaddle as his official initiation after the death and funeral of Qui-Gon--don't forget, before this point Dooku may have been Fallen, but he was not Sith until Sidious loses Maul as an apprentice. Say what you will about Palps, but you gotta give him credit for abiding by the Sith Rule of Two, otherwise the galaxy would've been a lot more utterly fucked than it was. Until this was canon, anyone who was not versed in Legends lore (AKA me) generally headcanoned that Dooku murdered and assumed the identity of Sifo-Dyas for his Sith initiation.

Also, I feel it is imperative to note that the Sith Code was literally inspired by Mein Kampf. You know, ADOLF HITLER'S MANIFESTO. Need proof? Here, straight from the Star Wars Wookiepedia:

What's The Point?

I've been writing for almost 3 hours and I'm only JUST getting to the bit that's actually about Dooku. Let's take a breather and re-establish some points:

Jedi and Sith are religious Creeds

You are not born Jedi or Sith

To be Jedi or Sith is to make CHOICES that align with the tenets of the Creed

To be Jedi is to be compassionate, mindful, and a protector of those who are defenseless

Jedi have rules and regulations to protect their Order from corruption and abuse of power

To be Sith is to put your wants first, to become all-powerful, and to be victorious over all others

Sith do NOT have rules and regulations (that they actually follow faithfully aside from the Rule of Two, which is broken by Dooku multiple times anyway)

Got it?

Cool let's move on.

This is what I mean by the separation of Jedi Master Dooku and Darth Tyranus. On the matter of Dooku, the fandom largely seems to be divided between:

He was manipulated by the Sith! He was actually a good guy who knew the Senate was corrupt! He was just trying to save the galaxy!

And:

He was a shit Jedi and everyone should've known he was Darkside. He abused Qui-Gon. He abused padawans. He hated children. He didn't Fall because he was always evil.

My guys.

My dudes.

My homies.

Just... WHAT?

For point A, I present to you:

(A GIF from The Clone Wars of Dooku. The subtitle reads: "I would kill you both if I didn't have to drag your bodies.)

He literally just threatened murder. Actual murder. In another scene, season 1, if someone could find the GIF that would be fantastic, Dooku says he wants the death of the Jedi. All of the Jedi. He wants to slaughter children, the people he once considered family. In season 4, to Savage Oppress, he offers the galaxy. "We will rule the galaxy together." That is a dictatorship. These are not the signs of a healthy man doing what is best for the people. This is selfish desire. This is Sith Creed.

For point B:

(A GIF from TOTJ. Dooku stands before Qui-Gon's favourite tree on Coruscant). Look, I'm not great at image and GIF descriptors. If someone would like to fix this for me, please do. I worked real hard on this analysis and I want it to be accessible.

A man who did not love his padawan, his pseudo-son, would not have visited their favourite place on the entirety of Coruscant upon their death. This was inconvenient. Him visiting this tree when he shouldn't have because he'd just infiltrated the archives and deleted evidence of Kamino brings suspicion upon him that he could've avoided by simply staying away. But he couldn't. He had to go one last time.

He also, in Attack of the Clones, expresses regret at never meeting Obi-Wan before then. Qui-Gon always spoke very highly of him. Yes, because an abused child whose evil, evil master, again, abused him, would ever speak of his own child to said-abuser. Dooku may be a Sith of a decade by that point, but don't forget that Sith are entrenched in negative emotion. We have no idea what he was feeling meeting the son of his son for the first time. He could have easily murdered Obi-Wan before Anakin and all of the Jedi arrive. He later tries to multiple times. The first thing he does is offer an alliance. An apprenticeship. He even tells Obi-Wan the truth of Palpatine in the Senate, not that he (Obi) has any reason to believe him (Dooku).

Again, what's my point?

My point is that he is both a good guy and a bad guy.

He can be both.

He was once good. He Fell. He was not always one or the other. Because that is how Star Wars WORKS. His doubts over the Senate, his fears that the Order is falling to darkness, his utter grief at the death of his child; it crippled him. He could not overcome the Darkside. And so he Fell. Perhaps originally he had good intentions.

The road to Hell is paved with good intentions after all.

Eventually, the anger, the grief, the fear, corrupted him. As is how the Darkside works. Yes, it is a choice. It is a Creed he chooses to follow. But to walk back from the Darkside is also a journey that requires incredible strength.

In canon, only one achieves it. Anakin Skywalker.

Early on, perhaps Dooku could have been saved. But by the time of Attack of the Clones, he is utterly corrupt and evil and literally planning an absolute takeover of the galaxy. He is far beyond redemption.

Look, thanks for coming to my TED talk. If you enjoyed this post and would like to see more, please consider tipping! I am an unemployed chronically anxious and depressed sewer rat. I also accept love in reblogs and comments XD

I feel like @jedi-enthusiast and @antianakin will like this.

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essentionesque · 5 months

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LORE DROP???

Image text under read-more

Templar Emperors (Vegala 1) Humans have long since lived to grow and adapt as they survive the trenches of existential dread and woe. These wonderers believe in a religious overseer, but deluded themselves into thinking they had to create their overseer who was never going to come for them. Centuries pass as the land destroys its organic resource and turns to an era of artificial technology, borrowing from the minds of regular civilians and crafting what they believe is wizardry and playing with forces unbeknownst to them, but are in fact just mirrors of their own shells.

Crimson Colony (Vegala 2) Rising heat waves permeate from Vegala 1 and 3 as it creates fire and onyx. Gargoyles and orcs of magma and onyx come together born from the acidic fire that brims through their system. A system dividing these species moves their plates from one side of their system to another, like individual tectonic plates in their own orbit. Their 6 layers of hell act as the measure of depth one must remain in to survive in their atmosphere. Often times planets cross from one to another, which can often result in civil discourse. But from the flames becomes a forged arsenal of heavy weaponry each borrow as they grow stronger.

Phyliphasees (Vegala 3) Caught in between the fires of Vegala 2, and the parasitic gases erupting from Vegala 4, Angels of shining orbs were born. They were but mere glowing entities scattering through the cosmos of their own system. Their lives had moved far beyond the concept of survival, and had discovered the strength of being a light that keeps away the darkness. Many of these angels are cast away if they bring nothing to their planetary structure and are seen as lesser by their overseers. They would lurk across the planes of nothingness in search for a home, to which they would find it in a race of titan mechs.

Bozchlyth Gnial (Vegala 4) Millenia's pass through Vegala, and with rising pollution crossed between Vegala 5 & 3, gluttony and vile bacteria's evolved into freakishly barbaric Xenos races. They are a disease that prey on spreading across planes of land, consuming mass entities to transform and evolve throughout years, eventually being able to spread their wings unto territories unaware of their emerging swarms.

Trojan Magnus (Vegala 5) An age of mechanic tyranny bestows the regions of Vegala 5. Trojan Magnus. A war of machines came with a perilous fight for biomass, all in which to create super titans capable of fortifying their worlds and keeping danger away. These monsters are lesioned by dark angels that create forgery and harmony between steel and muscle, crafting the faces of blood and debauchery on a titans chest. A Trojan titan's bionic carnage knows no bounds when combined with super human organisms. They had faced Xenos armies before, and with their remains would become this forging.

Velvetta (Vegala 6) In the far away barons of Vegala Infinity remains a race of majestic elvan royalty bent on concealing archives of recourse to be sent back to Vegala Infinity. This empire was not about war, they were about protecting knowledge and bringing it back to their rulers caught in the middle of the Vegala bubble. Time after time, several of the various systems floating in space catch their eyes on this resource and instead come to lust for this knowledge and prey on its seed. Several times the Velvettans frail masses would succumb to invasion, and must spend the rest of their lives being defenders of resource.

#dagames #iris official #goliath's throne #dawn of the dimetrix #heart of an artist #will ryan originals #Tag yourself I'm Velvetta-

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 9 months

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I find myself questioning why I'm still bothered and how I let it get to me the lack of nuance in fandom discourse. Especially with K-Pop and everything I've witnessed in the last 3 years. The bigger the fandom, the less chances for it to be cohesive and attract a specific demographic able to participate in a certain high level of discourse.

I remember a few years back I was lurking in the Black Sails community here on tumblr. I was usually someone who would read the weekly reviews to tv episodes and that would be enough. In the case of that series, it didn't feel enough because to me, the reviewers were missing or ignoring the complexity of that show. And to my surprise (although it shouldn't), the fandom on tumblr was one of the best I had the chance to observe. There was dedication, yes, but more than that, smart people were writing these amazing essays and analysis worth of getting published in established journals. Well beyond a simple review. They were media literate, which is something that gets lost more and more as time passes.

Of course I don't expect that same thing in a fandom like Army. They can barely be compared. Army is way, way larger. It covers a wide demographic which is good and bad simultaneously. Theoretically, there's a place for everyone, regardless of their identity/background. So in cases like that, people tend to choose their own corner, subsection depending on where they fit and their interest. Perhaps a teenager is more likely to spend time on tiktok making edits and looking at clips, without following each and every type of content out there. Because they don't have to. Fans using weverse are also their own category that exhibit a specific type of mentality. Twitter and tumblr are places that offer the platform for a more discussion-type of engagement, with twitter taking the first place.

So, we find our community and that's supposed to allow fans to live in harmony. I know, funny. It's never like that because we like to peak and invite ourselves in other spaces. And the places can easily become echo chambers. But what is interesting to note is observing what the fandom deems as an echo chamber. A solo stan account or a shipper is an echo chamber, but an account focused on the group as a whole and only their achievements and updates is not. It doesn't matter that the user feigns ignorance when confronted with weird hashtags trending because they had no idea. They curate their experience. It's perfectly valid, but the danger of creating/becoming part of echo chambers happens to all of us, regardless of our type of engagement. The longer we sit comfortably in our corner, talking to people who are of the same opinion as ours, the greater the risk.

Nevertheless, there is still this need of showing one's superiority based on the type of subsection of the fandom we are part of. Which automatically fails because it shows our ignorance and getting to what I wanted to talk about, the incapability of engaging in a nuanced discussion. Of course this is not something that we should expect from everyone. Like I said, we need to know our "audience". I won't go to the weverse/IG pages wanting to talk about Asian fetishization in kpop fandoms. It would be pointless. But we do touch on those types of topics on twitter and tumblr. Which is why I don't find it completely absurd to have expectations.

Shipping within the fandom has once again been under fire today, more than usual. And it showed, as each and every time, that there is simply no bridge, no way of finding a common language, of willingness to have that nuanced conversation without resorting to generalized statements. The result of that usually creates more harm, divides the communities even more and sweeps under the rug the normalization of a specific type of shippers who transform mentions of sexual assault into a weapon to attack and offend. As serious as this is for people who are not online 24/7 in fandoms, it has indeed become the norm for those who are part of it. So then why we ignore it? Why do we generalize it instead of addressing the exact person or community who does it regularly? Because it's the crazy part of the fandom and those who are not part of it consider themselves to be better than others. Feeling superior is the ultimate goal. In a fandom of millions, we all try to differentiate ourselves in one way or another. And that leads to our fandom identity and automatically our position towards issues within the larger community. Being for or against, wanting to engage or not, is sending a message. It's always more about us than the people or content we talk about.

I know I haven't touched on 1% of what this topic should cover, but these are just some thoughts. We can't all be the smartest and better than everyone else when we are completely fixated in some beliefs that come to exist based on how much we want to use our intelectual abilities or simply refuse to.

#m thoughts #bts #army #bts shipping #shipping discourse #fandom discourse

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samandmaxfan · 3 months

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The Great Zootopian Detectives

What if the great mouse detective helped Judy and Nick on their night howler adventure? How would things change? Let’s find out!

I OWN NOTHING, NADA, NOTHING AT ALL!! THIS IT JUST FOR FUN!!!

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ZOOTOPIA

CHAPTER 1: Young Youth

“Fear, treachery, blood-lust.”

A bunny ran through the jungle, afraid of every waking moment,

“Thousands of years ago, these were the forces that ruled our world. A world where prey were scared of predators. And predators had an uncontrollable, biological urge to maim and maul,”

The young rabbit stopped and drank some water, unknownst to her that a tiger was stalking her slow but fast enough when-

“AHHH!!!”

The young rabbit screamed when a tiger pounced on her,

“Blood! Blood! Blood,” she started to milk it as she ran out of string and grabbed ketchup “And death!”

The bunny squeezed the ketchup one more time for dramatic effect, which none seemed to care for or were disgusted by, then she got up,

“Back then the world was divided in two, vicious predator,” The young tiger hisses, “and meek prey.” The rabbit dropped her ears and put her hand over her heart.

Just then, two boxes, one named viscous (vicious) predator and the other, meek prey, came out of the top of the stage and they went into it as a sheep danced around. When the boxes lifted they were all in a white robes,

“But over time, we evolved and looked beyond our primitive savage ways.” the rabbit says as the sheep pops a noisemaker, then the rabbit and tiger hold hands “Now, predator and prey live in harmony and every young mammal has multitudinous opportunities”

The sheep walked closer to the edge of the stage. “Yeah, I don’t have to cower in a herd anymore,” she took off her robe. “Instead, I could be an astronaut!” The crowd cheered, then the tiger walked forward and started to talk in a robotic voice because he was sort of scared “I don’t have to be a lonely hunter anymore,” takes off robe revealing to have a suit and tie, “today I can hunt for tax exemptions; I’m gonna be an actuary”

“And I’m gonna make the world a better place, I’m gonna be…” She takes off her robe “…a police officer!” Her mother an father look at each other in a worrisome manner

“Ha! A bunny cop! That’s the most stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!” a young fox laughs to his friend who was a ferret as the rabbit puts on her hat,

“Although it may seem impossible to small minds,” she looks over at that fox “I’m talking to you Gideon Grey,” then looks away when he scowls at her “but, just two-hundred and eleven miles away,” the jungle backdrop leaves and incomes a colorful cardboard city with the words ‘Zootopia’ on top of it, “stands the great city of Zootopia, were our ancestors first joined together in peace and declared,” the tiger and sheep grabbed a banner “That anyone can be ANYTHING!” and all the mammals cheered.

After the show had ended, Stu and Bonnie Hopps decided to try to change their daughters future plans, not to discourage her, now they still love her the same as all of her 125 brothers and sisters, but they thought that being a police officer would be very complicated, especially if you're the first rabbit cop.

Ever.

“Judy, have you ever wondered how your mom and me got to be so darn happy?” Stu asked his nine year old daughter,

“Nope!” The rabbit, Judy, said as if they just asked her if she wanted to go on a ride again, but Stu still continued, “Well, we gave up on our dreams and we settled, right, Bon?” He looked over at his wife, “Oh, yes, that’s right, Stu. We settled hard.”

“See? That’s the beauty of complacency, Jude. If you never try anything new, you’ll never fail!” But Judy still wouldn't budge on her opinion,

“I like trying, actually” She told her parents as she jumped on a haystack, Bonnie sighs and tries something else, “What your father means, hun, is that it’s gonna be difficult, impossible even, for you to become a police officer.”

“Right! There’s never been a bunny cop,” her husband said

“No!” agreed his wife,

“Bunnies don’t do that.”

“Never!”

“Never.”

Judy started to walk slower, indicating that she was sad or thinking, or even both.

“Oh,” She said, lowering her head for a second before lifting it again, “then I’ll have to be the first one! Because,” She jumped “I’m gonna,” She did a backflip and struck a pose “make the world a better place!”

“Or, uh, heck, you know, if you want to talk about making the world a better place, no better way then becoming a carrot farmer.” her father tried

“Yes! Your dad, me, your 125 brothers and sisters, we’re changing the world!”

“Yeah!”

“One carrot at a time!”

But Judy stopped paying attention to what they were saying when she saw two sheep one of her sisters and a mouse go to an area with no one and a certain fox and ferret follow them, so she ran in their direction and hid behind a line of hay,

The mouse was the only one who stood up to the bully the most “You can’t have our tickets!” He yelled but Gideon paid very little mind to what the mouse was saying “What are you gonna do, pipsqueak? Fight me? I’m much larger than you and you know it!" "That's to say the least,” The mouse said with a smirk on his face,

“Hey!” The fox was clearly offended by this and picked up the mouse and held him in a way where his hands were stuck and his legs were dangling, “The. Tickets. Are. Mine!”

“Over my dead body” Even if the mouse was at a clear disadvantage, he wouldn’t quit without a fight, so the fox laugh and was about to through the young mouse on the ground when Judy interfered:

“Stop!”

Gideon looked over at the bunny in a cop costume

"Oh look who it is, the bunny cop here to save her useless friends!” The fox laughed as he gave the mouse to the ferret, who was now squirming to get out of the ferret’s grip and failed.

“Kindly return my friends’ tickets,” she told him

“Sure, but where are you gonna find them? They ain’t in my hand or Travis” Gideon laughed, but the mouse wouldn’t let him get away with this,

“They’re in his pocket!” He yelled, and the fox, annoyed and confused, looked over at him.

“How do you know that? You never saw it happen!”

“Your pocket is opened outwards more stretched than it should be, and the long rectangular pattern your pocket has near the middle, indicates that the tickets are in that pocket!” The mouse said as everyone when quiet, staring in disbelief, he was right. The mouse was so busy fighting the fox and, yet was still able to observe all this.

“Well then, I’ll finish you later,” He said as he looked over at the small mouse who was still stuck in Travis’ hand, “but right now if our little bunny pal wants her tickets back, she’ll have to come and get them! But watch out! ‘Cause like you said in your stupid little stage play, us predators used to eat prey, and our killer instinct is still in our denah!” Gideon told the now scared Judy, but Travis interfered that moment, “Umm, I’m pretty sure it’s pronounced D-N-A.” But the fox looked over at the ferret in annoyance, “Don’t tell me what I know Travis!” Gideon yelled looking back at Judy,

“You don’t scare me Gideon!” she yelled before being pushed to the ground, the free animals ran and hid,

“Scared now?” He asked, smirking. The young bunny started to breathe faster, and Travis laughed “Look at her nose twitch, she is scared!” But the mouse wouldn't have it, he kicked Travis right between the vein and bone on his paw, in pain Travis dropped the mouse. Just then Gideon grabbed the mouse, “Oh you two don’t know when to quit do you?” He asked holding the mouse up high, “This is what happens when you mess with me,” He told the mouse as he scraped Judy on the cheek with his claw, he heard the screams of the other animals, then he looked over at Judy “I want you to remember this moment you think that you ever be anything more than just a stupid, carrot-farming dumb bunny!” He yelled in Judy’s face before leaving,

“Judy you ok?” Yelled one of the sheep

“Yeah,” she said holding up their tickets,

“Wow you got our tickets back!” the sheep exclaimed in happiness,

“Your awesome Judy,” Said the other, Judy smiled as she said “I couldn't have done it alone,” She looked over at the mouse, “Say, I’ve never truly met you before,” she told him as he turned to look at her, “what's your name?”

“Basil,” he said, “Basil of Baker Street.”

I WOULD LOVE FEEDBACK!!! THIS IS MY FIST FANFIC AND IM VERY PROUD OF IT, AND IF I GET LOTS OF LIKES AND/OR COMPLEMENTS I’LL DEFINITELY CONTINUE IT, IF NOT, I MIGHT CONTINUE IT!!

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