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#The Target Storybook
familyparadox · 4 months
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The short story “we can’t stop what’s coming” is so funny. Fitz finding out that at some point in the future the Last Great Time War will break out. Hie must have been like “oh no, not again.”
Like Trix was never involved with the War in Heaven and 8 can not remember it. Only Fitz knows about the War and he is not going to tell them. Perhaps Fitz noticing all the signs of the coming Last Great Time War was what eventually made him leave. He could not see the Doctor go through this pain again, and nor could he risk becoming Father Kreiner again and hurting the Doctor himself.
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Fyi there is actively a Doctor Who story where 12 takes Bill, Missy, and Nardole to a rock concert, some rockstars yell "The Doctor's in the house!" then the Last of the Time Lords renders himself unconscious via stage diving and Missy tries to cure the flu to make him proud of her.
It's 12's story in The Target Storybook. It's called Pain Management by Beverly Sanford.
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agenderhyde · 11 months
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missy wears docs.....
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jewishjanetandco · 11 months
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missy owns a pair of "purple-glittery dr martens"
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bonkas-blurb-hitlist · 9 months
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Untitled
Fandom(s): Original Work Prompt: N/A Series: N/A Length: Oneshot Idea: a princess makes a nest in the roof so she can read without a single interruption.
Notes: kids storybook style. ever increasing attempts to read. ends in a truce but she keeps her nest. tbh, it's absolutely a vent story
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have thoughts re: Two and Fugitive!Doc, but they’re not fully fleshed out
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molinaskies · 7 months
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What We Get Wrong About Dark Sonic
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I find Dark Sonic incredibly interesting.
I’ve said this before, but Dark Sonic represents an overflow of Sonic’s negative emotions, the ones he usually suppresses: anger, sadness, and fear.
However, many people believe that Dark Sonic is somehow a betrayal of Sonic as a character (even Ian Flynn, reportedly, but I’ve yet to see an official source). Sonic is meant to be a beacon of optimism. Sonic is meant to be the pillar of hope when all else fails. Sonic is meant to be the last one standing, no matter what.
In this sense, sure, Dark Sonic contradicts the notion that Sonic is “uncorruptable,” but I think that depends on how we define corruption.
I see it two ways:
1) Corruption by way of losing faith, through dishonesty and fraud. 2) Corruption by way of a forceful shift from one state of being to another.
In the first sense, corruption occurs when someone’s paradigm is shifted through lies, cheating, or manipulation. It’s a conscious mental shift. In the second sense, corruption occurs when something (or someone) is co-opted and changed without its will or influence, like data corruption, or a shift in the meaning of a word or image. It’s a literal, physical and/or metaphysical shift.
There’s a saying that floats around the fandom that says, “Shadow is just ‘Sonic, if Sonic had one really bad day’,” and I think that makes sense. Shadow is jaded and cynical because of how the world has hurt him, but he still wants to do right by people—just like Sonic. What separates Sonic from Shadow, however, is Sonic’s tenant optimism and positive paradigm. Without those differences, Sonic has endless reasons to be as cynical as Shadow, or even more so.
So, Sonic doesn’t let himself feel those feelings for very long, and especially not when other people are around. He pours everything into a clean, neat bottle, with a tight screw-on cap, right?
What happens when something tampers with that bottle?
Dark Sonic is a forceful corruption of body but not of mind. Let’s talk about it.
How Dark Sonic Works
What I think people misunderstand most about Dark Sonic is that it’s not an intentional state of being. It never was.
Dark Sonic is the polar opposite to Super Sonic, which is achieved when Sonic harnesses the positive energy of the Chaos Emeralds. If Sonic wanted to harness the power of the emeralds for the wrong reasons and his heart accessed the negative energy rather than the positive, he could possibly bring about Dark Sonic willingly. This, however, would likely never happen because that is the betrayal of Sonic’s character that everyone worries about.
That said, the only reason Dark Sonic ever appears is because of a mix of Sonic’s pure rage over Black Narcissist physically assaulting Chris and Cosmo and the presence of hundreds of the Metarex’s fake Chaos Emeralds, which possess an aura clearly shown to impact Sonic and make him ill.
Sonic’s first interaction with negative Chaos energy from the fake emeralds is filled with discomfort and even disgust. Sonic reacting to the negative Chaos energy poorly is critical, as it showcases that it’s seeking him out, not vice versa.
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When Sonic was as triggered as he was, the negative energy from the fakes harnessed his emotions and corrupted him. It was a complete, freak accident.
This situation is very similar to Darkspine Sonic, the in-game equivalent to Dark Sonic from Sonic and the Secret Rings. Darkspine Sonic only surfaces when Sonic is severely triggered after Shahra starts to betray him, Erazor Djinn murders her (she sacrifices herself for Sonic), and he sees Erazor Djinn’s final form about to destroy the storybook world. In his shock and anger, the Secret Rings of Sadness, Rage, and Hate target him, painfully turning him into Darkspine Sonic. Once again, external energies corrupt him at the height of his emotional vulnerability.
Sonic never seeks out the negative energy of the Chaos Emeralds because his heart is good. When the negative energy seeks him out in such overwhelming waves, it corrupts his abilities, alters them, and pulls them out to play.
But—
If it’s simply a matter of fake Chaos Emeralds, then why can Sonic use Tails’ fake Chaos Emerald in Sonic Adventure 2 without any problems? I posit this to the fact that Tails might have a better understanding of the balanced nature of the Chaos Emeralds (in that they are powered by both good and evil), while Eggman and Dark Oak have only ever used (or desired to use) the Chaos Emeralds for evil.
Recall Eggman’s laser at the beginning of Sonic Unleashed and Perfect Chaos in Sonic Adventure. Both uses of the chaos emeralds drained them of their power—their negative power, that is. (Albeit through different means based on the lore of each game), Sonic is still able to restore and harness the emeralds’ power because he relies on the positive energy of the emeralds. As intelligent as he is, I imagine that Eggman (as well as the Metarex) has a hard time replicating the intricate nature and balance of the Chaos Emeralds because their hearts are filled with hatred and turmoil, so unwilling to heed the perspectives of others. The power is there, sure, but not the heart.
~Chaos is power. Power is enriched by the heart~
Tikal's Prayer
I think the difference between Tails’ fake emerald and every other fake emerald we’ve seen in canon is marked by the fact that both Eggman’s and the Metarex’s fakes disintegrate after excessive use (i.e., Chaos Control), but Tails’ fake remains intact.
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The Metarex's emerald disintegrates upon excessive use
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Eggman's fake emeralds can't hold their form upon excessive use
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Tails' fake emerald is intact and ultimately used to stop the Eclipse Canon from firing
In short, Tails’ emerald is simply a better fake, more accurate to the originals.
also, I refuse to talk about how dumb it is that Sonic was able to use a fake Chaos Emerald to do Chaos Control for the first time. However, it is canon, and therefore relevant to my point.
Another key problem cited in Sonic X is just how many fake emeralds there are. One emerald pales in comparison to hundreds. Sonic feels all the latent negative energy consume him because that energy is a corruption, itself.
It’s not that Sonic gets so angry that he just gives in to darkness, it’s that darkness captures him when he’s in extreme emotional distress and his guard is down. Dark Sonic is the result of negative, unstable, potent Chaos energy clinging to him, using his latent Chaos powers as a vessel when he least expects it and, thus, is powerless against it.
I think I can best prove this by contrasting Dark Sonic with Sonic’s other intimate encounter with darkness…
Sonic Unleashed, Dark Gaia, and the Werehog
I’ve spoken at length about this game and this specific scene, already, so kindly forgive my hyper-brief summary this time around!
When Dark Gaia’s “weight issues” cause its essence to disperse around the globe, many people fall influence to Dark Gaia’s despair, losing faith and hope in the world. Nothing like the influences of Chaos energy, but enough of an influence that much of the world feels it. A core aspect of the game’s plot is that Sonic, distinctly, does not. In the cutscene No Reason, Sonic asks Chip why he stays the same despite the darkness inside his heart while so many others change at night. Chip answers simply, saying that Sonic’s too strong to lose himself and that part of his good will is because he never doubts himself, even when he’s on his own.
The difference is that while Sonic undergoes a physical transformation, he never loses faith or gives up hope—made especially clear by the fact that Professor Pickle, once as hopeful as Sonic, eventually does lose hope.
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Also key to note that Amy also never loses hope.
Unleashed is just another fun, high-stakes adventure for Sonic; there’s never a moment where he’s aggressively triggered by something or when his personal morals are ever tainted. Irritated, maybe. Flustered, even. Never at a loss. The closest we see Sonic come to this is when he loses the werehog form to Dark Gaia before the final battle. He falls to his knees, worn and exhausted, and tells Chip to run because he doesn’t want him to get caught up in the mess. Yet even then he’s not giving up.
That’s why Sonic’s heightened emotional state is so important to the conversation. When Sonic’s will is intact, he’s much stronger, but when he’s triggered by something and his defences are down, it’s much easier for corrupting forces around him to take hold.
Mind over Matter
Even with the parameters for Dark Sonic’s appearance established, something that stands out to me about Sonic’s encounters with dark energies, and something I see as additional evidence that Dark Sonic is only a literal, physical corruption and not a corruption of his paradigm, is that Sonic is still in control of himself—to an extent.
Even as he seethes in his amplified rage, Dark Sonic never inflicts harm on the innocent. After Gold and Silver are destroyed, it’s not expressly clear if Sonic intends to stop or fight Black Narcissist, but Eggman implies that Sonic was fighting Gold and Silver until there was quite literally nothing left. Sonic was given a target to attack, and he kept his focus there, even when other enemies presented themselves.
This also goes for the Werehog and Darkspine Sonic.
He also has the mind to listen to reason—from Eggman, of all people—and stop when it’s clear that he’s finished what he set out to do. Sonic channels his anger to where it needs to be, and it’s clear that Sonic’s moral code and paradigm on life are thoroughly intact.
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The only thing that changes is that he’s no longer imposing his usual limits. Sonic is stupidly powerful, even without any power ups. If he ever wanted to kill Eggman, he would have by now. If he ever wanted to kill anyone, he would have by now (and technically, he has).
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Sonic throws Erazor Djinn's lamp into a pit, never to resurface, effectively trapping him and ending his livelihood indefinitely.
However, Sonic holds back because he doesn’t want to be an arbiter of justice—he doesn’t want to deprive someone’s chance to be good unless it’s been clear that they cannot be redeemed.
Why I Care About This
It is no secret that I believe that Sonic is a highly emotional character—far more emotional than many give him credit for. It bears repeating that Sonic’s emotions are very big and can be cataclysmic when left unchecked…
…but that’s just part of growing up—growing up as a hero and, damn it, even just a kid.
Dark Sonic isn’t a case of Sonic giving himself to darkness, nor is it a perversion of Sonic’s character. It’s an energetic, chaotically-charged version of Sonic when he is at his angriest—and even then it’s not enough to change his morals or make him lash out unjustly.
Dark Sonic is cathartic, in a way, and I definitely think it deserves its place in canon.
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bronzeagepizzeria · 28 days
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it is hilarious how a bunch of dw fans don’t accept the actual goddamn show saying tentoo is the doctor but some obscure target dumbass storybook says his name is like corn or something and suddenly nothing has ever been more canon
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asha-mage · 4 months
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Wheel of Time (books or show)
I'll go with a mix for this one.
A lot of the things that folks are crediting the show for doing 'better' then the books are not the show fundamentally changing anything about what the books did- rather its' a result of an intimate understanding of the books on a deeper thematic and narrative level, and making sure that comes through in the new TV medium.
Lanfear is a great example of this. In the books Lanfear is one of my favorite antagonists, because Jordan does an excellent job of conveying the nuances of her personality and deeper character to the reader, even as she herself is trying to present various fronts, ranging from 'classic storybook maiden' to 'all knowing sinister sorceress'.
There is nothing in Lanfear's depiction in the show that doesn't have a clear root in the books: her tendency to only be vulnerable when she has the shield of plausible deniability, the way there is more love and affection for Lews and Rand then she wants to admit to herself. The way her pride is her cardinal sin and she can't see it: even as she simmers with quite rage from having to present herself as 'less' then she is- rage that she finds subtle plausibly deniable ways to express at any target she has at hand.
The way her casual disregard for human life is born of that same pride and how it allows her to remorselessly kill without hesitation or regret. The way she holds herself apart from other Dark Friends, even other Chosen, because deep down, despite her oaths, despite her promises, despite having witnessed the Dark One's power herself, she doesn't believe in his cause. A part of her still views him fundamentally as a creature of her own discovery- she knows personally that he can be bested, because she broke into his prison with her own two hands, and that gives her the inescapable nagging thought that she can best him too, or exploit him for her own gain, if only she is willing to take the gamble.
The show's changes- 'Selene' being an innkeeper rather then a noble lady, her not using the mask of mirrors off the bat, Lanfear being exposed to Rand earlier and so being able to engage with him on later-book things sooner, even her slightly adjusted manipulation techniques- have more to do with the logistics and realities of bringing the story to TV then with the core of Lanfear's character.
It's all there in the books. It's just that like Rand, most people take the surface of what Lanfear presents as the truth, rather then digging deeper.
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legok9 · 18 days
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My favorite genre of Doctor Who image is ones featuring all of the Doctors:
Doctor Who Special illustration by Peter Brookes (1973):
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Timeslip by Paul Neary (1980):
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Birth of a Renegade by Mark Thomas (1983):
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DWM 111 poster by Alister Pearson (1986):
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Doctor Who Pinball: Time Streams by Linda Deal (1992):
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Happy Deathday by Roger Langridge (1998):
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The Legend Continues (2005):
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The Forgotten by Kelly Yates & Kris Carter (2008):
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Endgame by Kelly Yates & Charlie Kirchoff (2013):
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LEGO Dimensions (2015):
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The Target Storybook by Anthony Dry (2019):
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Doctor Who Day promo (2022):
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Doctor Who Day promo (2023):
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naiatabris · 9 days
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That Rarest of Things
A little Regency AU drabble for Wyll Week in which Wyll tries to be the perfect heir, talks politics with a friend, and dances with a certain pale elf who has been watching him from the shadows. Prompt: "The Blade of Frontiers."
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The pale elf was watching him again.
Wyll tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed. He was supposed to be regaling Councillor Florrick’s guests with yet more tales of his time as the Blade of Frontiers, not ogling handsome strangers. And the man’s scrutiny should not have bothered him. Ever since his return to Baldur’s Gate it had felt as if all eyes were on Wyll whenever he entered a room. Some of the gazes were approving, the stares of people who looked at Wyll and saw a newly-eligible noble bachelor restored to his father’s good graces, the perfect target for a courtship. Other gazes took in his horns and the ridges on his cheeks and arms with loathing or fear; those gazes saw a devil, and little more.
The elf, however, did not seem to fall into either category. He watched Wyll with an air of weariness, of sorrow, of vague disdain. He tried to pretend he was not listening when Wyll described battles against goblins or encounters with a hag, but Wyll could see the way his eyes slid to the side, keeping Wyll in his sights.
Perhaps I am imagining it.
He knew he was not.
“Another stirring tale,” his friend Alys Towerfell told him once he’d finished the story and the crowd had begun to disperse. Wyll could see envious eyes on them the moment she favored him with her attention; Alys was a half-Drow beauty who happened to be the heir to a very large fortune, and Wyll knew that half the room would give their right arm for a conversation with her. To him, however, Alys was merely an old friend, the solemn teenager who used to read eight-year-old Wyll storybooks when their parents gathered for dinner.
“I have many more stories to offer before the evening is over,” Wyll said wryly. “Councillor Florrick and my father requested it specifically. Apparently, my tales of heroism are just what they need to swing the correct number of votes their way.”
Alys slid a companionable hand into his elbow and began to guide him into a turn about the room. “Ah yes, the city defense measures,” she murmured. “Lord Gortash cornered me earlier. He has many ideas about them. Most of them, somehow, seem to involve the city placing a large and lucrative order for steel golems of his own creation.” She scowled. “I do not trust that man. I don’t know how his golems work, but mark my words, there’s something amiss in their construction.”
“You’re right, I’m certain,” Wyll replied. Alys was a gifted sorcerer; if she said there was something wrong with a magical construct, he was not fool enough to bet against her. He was going to say more, about city politics or the golems or perhaps about Lord Gortash’s general oiliness, but a flash of white curls in the far corner distracted him. 
The pale elf was lounging against the wall, sipping slowly from a wine glass, looking out over the assembled company like a predator evaluating prey.
“Alys? Do you know that man?”
Alys’s mouth twisted thoughtfully as she spotted the object of Wyll’s gaze. “Mr. Ancunin. A fixture of recent gatherings, but not someone I know well.” She arched an eyebrow at Wyll. “Do you desire an introduction?”
“Yes.” Wyll realized, a beat too late, what that answer implied. “That is to say—he seems to be watching me closely of late. It would be best to know his intentions.”
Alys bristled, her shoulders drawing back and her chin tilting up as she narrowed her eyes at the elf. Wyll felt himself half charmed and half amused at the sight. Alys had always considered herself something of an older sister to him, and had resumed that role almost instantly upon his return to the city. But the sharp expression was gone a breath later, replaced by her usual elegant poise. 
“I agree.” Her drow-lilac eyes locked onto the elf. “Let’s see what we can do.”
To any onlooker, it would have seemed nearly accidental. Alys guided them around the room, chatting with the guests, continuing her conversation with Wyll. And then, when they were a pace or two away from the elf, she stopped and blinked as if she’d only just noticed him. “Why, Mr. Ancunin! What a pleasure to see you again. May I present Wyll Ravengard, only son of Duke Ulder Ravengard?”
“You may—and the pleasure is mine, darling.” The elf swept an elaborate bow. “Well. Haven’t you found yourself a handsome suitor.”
Mr. Ancunin’s eyes met Wyll’s as he straightened, and Wyll felt his breath catch in his lungs. It was a momentary reaction, fast enough that Wyll could almost pretend it hadn’t been there. The elf had been handsome from a distance, but up close… up close he was more than merely handsome. The other man’s gaze was nothing short of piercing and the smile that played around his lips was sharp and playful and wicked.
“You flatter me,” Alys said with a light laugh. “In truth, Mr. Ravengard is simply an old friend kind enough to keep me company.”
“As if you lack for company,” Wyll teased. “Every line of your dance card is full, whereas mine is woefully empty.”
“Well. That won’t do, will it?” From somewhere deep in his evening kit, Mr. Ancunin pulled out a pencil and his own dance card. He met Wyll’s gaze and arched one elegant eyebrow. “As it happens, my own card is rather bare. If I may be so bold?”
Wyll bit back a satisfied smile as he handed over his card. He had laid the trap, and the elf had stepped right in. “I would be honored.”
As Mr. Ancunin finished writing his name on Wyll’s dance card, the soft chime of bells sounded throughout the ballroom. “Just in time, it seems,” the elf murmured. He offered his elbow. “Shall we, Mr. Ravengard?”
The gleam of satisfaction in Mr. Ancunin’s eyes made Wyll wonder if he had been too quick to assume that he was the one laying a trap.
They took their positions opposite one another for the opening dance, studying each other all the while, pretending they were not. Mr. Ancunin was elegantly dressed in black with purple trim, a choice that highlighted his fair skin and pale curls. Wyll managed, just barely, to avoid tugging at the collar and cuffs of his own gold-and-white clothing. Even now, after nearly six months back in the city, he felt ill at ease in a noble’s garb.
As the music began, however, he felt his discomfort fade away. He had always loved dancing and he knew he was adept at it. He suspected Mr. Ancunin might be the same; the other man had shown a catlike grace as they made their way to the dance floor. But to Wyll’s surprise, as they began the steps, Mr. Ancunin moved with just a hint of hesitation—as if he were fighting to recall exactly what his feet were supposed to be doing and what came next.
Wyll’s object had been to learn more about the other man, to try to determine why he was being watched so closely. But seeing Mr. Ancunin ill at ease put him off-balance. Made him want to take the man’s hand and guide him through the dance rather than use the opportunity to press him with questions.
Spotting Wyll’s scrutiny, Mr. Ancunin flashed a smile, a quicksilver thing that did not reach his eyes. “When I woke this morning, I could never have imagined myself taking to the floor with the legendary Blade of Frontiers,” he murmured as their hands met for the first time, Mr. Ancunin’s black glove stark against Wyll’s white. “You’ve been amassing quite the audience for those stories you tell—all the tales of daring and heroism and mortal peril.”
There was an edge of mockery to his voice that set Wyll’s teeth on edge—and that sent a feeling of shame twisting through him. He enjoyed recounting his adventures for those close to him. But he was less comfortable doing so in public. He did not want to be thought a braggart or a fool.
I am doing it for the city, he told himself. Not my own glory.
“Do you have a favorite?” he parried, trying to act nonchalant as they spun round each other. “I believe I’ve noticed you listening. Once or twice.”
“Only once or twice?” Mr. Ancunin asked softly. “You should pay more attention to your surroundings then, my dear Blade. I don’t know what I find more astonishing: the number of stories you seem to have, or the fact that somehow, I believe them all to be true.” His mouth went tight. “A real hero. A creature that by all rights should not exist. And yet, here you are.”
Wyll wanted to reply, but the dance’s next steps took them away from each other, sent them weaving through the other couples until they had reached the end of the lines. When they faced each other again, Wyll met his partner’s gaze.
“I did what was necessary. Nothing more.”
Mr. Ancunin chuckled. “I think you almost believe that. Remarkable.” He stepped forward once more, met Wyll’s palm with his, resumed their steps around each other with more confidence and rhythm than before. “Perhaps it was necessary, all those risks and heroics and the years in exile. But few others would have done what you did. Which makes you, Mr. Ravengard, that rarest of things: a good man.”
The words nearly took Wyll’s breath away. It was as if Mr. Ancunin had stripped his soul down to its essentials and given voice to his greatest wish: to be a good man. A protector of his city. A defender of the weak. A worthy heir to Ulder Ravengard.
It was a wish he’d felt slip further and further out of reach every day he had worked with Mizora.
“I’ll make no such claim for myself.” He could hear the rough edge to his voice. “I hope I have helped those who needed it. Defended the city I call home. But I—”
“Too honorable to take a compliment, Mr. Ravengard? You’ve been so good for everyone else. Doesn’t it get tiresome?” Mr. Ancunin was teasing now—but his tone was not entirely playful. His voice softened to something near a whisper as they completed their turn. “Has anyone been as good for you?”
Wyll clenched his jaw. He did not allow himself to think about things like that. What mattered was doing the right thing, giving all he could. He did not keep score. He did not expect things in return. But—gods. It almost sounded as if Mr. Ancunin was offering something, and though Wyll did not quite know what it was, part of him ached to find out.
And with a flash of insight, Wyll realized that was exactly what Mr. Ancunin wanted. To put him off balance, to intrigue him, to draw him in. To what end?
“Why, it almost sounds as if you’re concerned, Mr. Ancunin,” Wyll said, letting warm amusement creep into his voice. “Or are you offering to be the one who evens the scales?”
The expression moved across the elf’s face so quickly Wyll might have missed it. But it was there: a twinge of revulsion, something close to a flinch. It was quickly replaced by a smile that did not reach his eyes. “And if I am?”
“Then I would decline,” Wyll said easily. He thought about telling Mr. Ancunin that he’d seen the expression, that he could sense the other man didn’t truly want a dalliance, but he worried that insight might scare the elf away—and Wyll very much wanted to know what this man was up to. 
“Doing good is its own reason and its own reward,” he said instead. “Though I suspect you’ll call me tedious for saying it.”
“Dear gods. You actually do believe that,” Mr. Ancunin said wonderingly. “How utterly astonishing.”
As they stepped back to their places in line, their hands parted—but Mr. Ancunin’s fingers rested against his for just a heartbeat longer than they needed to, and Wyll did not pull his own fingers away.
He bent into his most elegant bow as the final notes played. When he straightened, Mr. Ancunin was watching him with those bright, knowing eyes, a half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
“It’s been a pleasure, my dear Blade. Until next time.” He lowered his voice. “And I do hope there will be a next time.”
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y'all know Gallifrey's a messed up place when someone calls the 6th Doctor the only decent time lord they've ever met ffs
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bearlybella · 10 months
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Fiery flames 🔥 (part 1)
Wally (human) x dragon!reader
Part two here
Thousands of years ago dragons ruled the skies. With their terrible fiery breaths and intelligence they were seen as the biggest threat to mankind. But as the years pass and the world changed dragons started to disappear one by one from the war between them and humans. Nowadays they are simply deemed a fantasy in storybooks. But you are still alive. Sure you might have to stick to your human form and adapt to modern life but the large scaly beast was still active inside of you, waiting to break free.
You lived in an apartment complex in the lesser side of the city, where crime was a bit more prominent, your typical robbers and car jackers. No one dared to bother you so you were never worried of waking up with your stuff stolen or getting mugged off the street. The reason you moved here was because it was much more interesting than surrounding yourself around pompous idiots in the white collar district. You also had made a couple of friends in the complex including a young mother with two young children that you babysit every Friday night and an widow who always told nice stories.
It took awhile to adjust to your new mundane life. You missed the times when you were a large liege seizing havoc upon knights and hoarding your prized possessions but that didn’t mean you couldn’t entertain yourself. At night you would fly through the dark skies over the city looking down at the light up buildings just like the old times.
This particular morning you woke up around six am getting up and ready for work at your new job. You was a camera person for this live set children’s show called ‘Welcome Home’. If you had to pick it reminded you a bit of Mister Rogers and Sesame Street. There were live actors that would dress up as these characters and do your typical lessons like being kind to one another and how to count to ten. You didn’t have no opinion on it since you wasn’t the targeted audience. After getting dress and shoving a toast in your mouth you rush out of the building to the train station taking the D train to the uptown area. While riding the train you looked down at your phone scrolling through your feed not paying anyone no mind, even when someone was singing loudly drunk.
After getting to the studio and clocking in you immediately got to work setting up the cameras. The other workers rushed around preparing to record a few episodes while the actors got ready. You’ve met all of them finding them kinda quirky but friendly folks, but your least favorite of them all was Wally. He was a weirdo to say the least. The ‘star’ of the show most would say and for good reason; he was funny, charming, and pretty outgoing to everyone who met him. A lot of the people around here and his fanbase found him attractive as well with his cocoa brown skin and dark blue dyed hair that was always put up in a pompodor. You however didn’t see the hype but then again humans didn’t really get you going, you only dated a handful in the past. On top of all of this he just had a weird vibe that you couldn’t exactly place, maybe because he had a bit of a staring problem that people overlooked.
After thirty minutes everything was put in place as you started to record. You sat there with the other camera people as the actors performed on the set. This particular episode featured Wally, Barnaby, and Howdy teaching kids about counting and adding. Wally was explaining how adding works while looking straight at your camera, but it felt like he was staring at you. There goes that weird feeling again but you quickly shook it off. Afterwards the break bell rings and you all stepped away to eat lunch. You pick up your subway sandwich sitting down between Poppy and Frank diving in hungrily, scarfing it down in less than ten minutes.
“Geez Y/N, you sure can eat!” Barnaby says teasingly from across the table. “That wasn’t even five minutes!”
“What can I say? I’m a growing person.” You respond patting your stomach causing the others to laugh.
“How about about an eating contest?” He challenge raising an eyebrow.
“You’re on big guy.” You smirk as Julie jumps up clapping her hands. “Me and Frank can be the judge!” Frank cuts his eyes over at the rest of you while holding up a book. “Why me? They’re going to just get themselves sick.” He shakes his head.
“Come on Frank, it’ll be fun.” Julie pleads as he sighs putting a bookmark in his book before closing it.
“Can I also judge?” A voice calls as all of you turn to the star of the show himself, Wally. While everyone lights up you couldn’t help a frown appearing. Great. Mister big shot was here.
“Sure Wally!” Julie was saying excitedly as she starts listing stuff they would need. You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your face as you tried not to look over at the blue haired man. Don’t make eye contact to give him any ideas. The bell rings signaling that lunch was over. As everyone disperse to go back to their places you felt a hand on your shoulder looking over to see it was Wally. He was staring at you so intensely that it felt like he was looking into your soul.
“Hello Y/N, how have you been?” He asks in that sickly sweet voice you loathed.
“I’ve been alright Wally.” You said putting your hands on your pockets. You both stared at one another in some type of staring contest. He was shorter than you, probably just above 5’1, so he was looking up at you. You wasn’t intimidated by this kid, in fact you was more annoyed by him than ever. What did he want? You couldn’t help but feel like he was hiding something.
“So did you needed something or did you just wanted to stare at my pretty face?” You said chuckling trying to break the tension. At your comment Wally grins flashing all of his teeth and you could have sworn his pupils got larger.
“I don’t mind either.” He said in a flirtatious tone causing you to double take. Was he…flirting with you? Just as you was about to say something he turns and strolls off casually, hands behind his back as he hummed the Welcome Home theme song.
God he was weird.
(This is a test to see if I can write Wally well! I know it says part one but I’m not sure if I’ll continue, if y’all like it and want more let me know!)
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nova--spark · 2 months
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Cybertronian Sorcery: A Lost Art
⚠️This is a Personal Headcanon, using lore from TFP, Bay's Last Knight movie, Quintessa [TLK] and personal Ideas and HCs ⚠️
In the early times of Cybertron, it was fabled that there existed an order of what most stories would call mages, sorcerers and sorceressess.
These mages were spinners of Energon, weavers of divine energies, a gift of Primus by which they could not only reshape reality around them, but also see beyond it.
It was said that Primus had blessed them with power directly from the AllSpark. So that they might see not just their own world, but those beyond. Worlds past, current, and yet to be, worlds alternate to theirs, similar and more.
Each wielded a relic which carried a portion of their Spark, and a portion of their power, a Focus by which they could reshape the world as they saw fit.
In the first Eras, they were key to the reshaping of their world, of crafting the landscapes, the wildlife and even at first, the very inhabitants of the planet.
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There was no limit to the extent of transformation by which they too could go through, able to adapt to what was necessary. Forms smaller, bigger, agile, stronger, or more.
This art, of weaving reality around them, was also a target on their backs as time came, and the ages of conquest began.
Used as soldiers, medics and more, their numbers dwindled, slowly but surely. That by the time these conquests and crusades ended, there were only a few hundred left, in comparison to the once hundred thousands in their ranks.
After which, came the Hunts.
As tensions rose in Cybertron, with the change of politics, religion and more, the Mages were persecuted, seen as not blessed guardians, oracles or shapers of the world.
Instead, they were now seen as vile witches who could do as they pleased, able to instead warp reality on a whim and no one would be none the wiser.
It is said that none survived, the relics they once weilded now on display in the restricted section of the Iacon archives, where they remain heavily monitored.
But there are whispers that their teachings remain shrouded in myth, found within storybooks and folktales, some argue that they never existed, and were a mere ghost story, the relics on display entirely replicas to fulfill these stories.
But none can truly say for sure.
But what all can agree, that the power they did use, was one to be feared and respected.
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bestjeanistmonster · 11 months
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Sonic au summary list
Just to give a rundown of each one!
DC (Sonadow Harlivy) AU- Sonic and crew take on the roles of DC comics heroes and villains, shenanigans ensue as i pick and choose what i want to include and/or change from the multitude of dc comics timelines and continuities and mixing it with Sonic stuff for fun. The most significant roles are Sonic as Harley Quinn and Shadow as Poison ivy
SONIC & TAILS SWAP AU- Tails is the adventuring hero of mobius while Sonic is a pilot/mechanic who's a low-key genius
But along with the role swap I'm also changing Sonic's relationship with his own speed. I'm thinking that Sonic is insecure about his speed due to bullying and other jerks calling him a freak, he acts like it doesn't bother him and laughs it off but he doesn't run and if he has to run he deliberately slows himself down
His boots are even weighted down so that it's harder for him to reach high speeds
They have the same abilities, but because of how different their lives have been they utilise them in different way and have different interests and stuff like Tails’s smarts are targeted towards something different, he’s more interested in ancient ruins and learning about different cultures and stuff which leads him to go on some wacky adventures OZ AU- a sonic storybook situation but Shadow is the one being transported out of nowhere to the land of oz where he must travel great lengths to meet with the wizard of oz and find a way back home and face off against Oz's greatest threat, the wicked witch of the west who is... Sonic??? ROADTRIP AU- a coming of age, slice of life au where Amy makes an ill advised purchase while sleep deprived. She buys a bus. She buys a yellow school bus and for reasons (yet to be revealed) she decides to go on a trip to get away from home for a while. She ends up picking up a series of hitchhikers on the way, making friends, enemies and discovering things about herself on the way!
ONCE UPON A TIME (OUAT) AU- Eggman places an evil curse on the land which leaves our heroes stuck in a world with no chaos energy, no powers, no way out, stripped of their heroic deeds. Our world. They now reside in a town called storybrooke with no memory of their past lives, trapped and robbed of their happy endings, doomed to live in misery. Time is frozen in this town until someone special comes to visit, a saviour to rescue the fallen heroes and undo this evil curse.
Then all the way in station square, Cream the Rabbit is gifted a mysterious storybook by her mother on her 6th birthday, something her father left behind for her, and Vanilla informs her daughter that they will be moving into her Father’s old family house as per his final wishes, located in a town called ‘Storybrooke’.
And Cream will soon find that the town’s residents seem awfully similar to the characters in her new book…
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traegorn · 5 months
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Life isn't a storybook but it sure as shit helps me and countless others to think of it that way
I get that, but here's the thing -- it can be incredibly dangerous when we cast random events into a narrative that ends up being counter to reality.
None of us are the "main character" because it implies other people aren't. It's an easy way to dehumanize others.
And things that are just shitty aren't always malicious acts, and it makes it harder to fix them if we're targeting the wrong solutions.
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