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aftermathfanfic · 7 months

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Part 4, Chapter 1

Uncle Scrooge stood in front of him, one hand on his cane. His hat was resting on a nearby countertop, and he wore a strange, guilty expression.

“I’m sorry, Louie.” He told him quietly. “I should’ve been there.”

“Mm-hm.” Louie grunted noncommittedly.

~~~

Three Years Ago

Louie sat silently in the armchair, his gaze levelled at a cup of water he was clutching in his hands. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the wall-mounted clock and the scribbling of pen against paper, a few feet in front of him.

“…Can you tell me what triggered your panic attack?” Asked Dr. Lake, his voice calm and measured.

“…Yeah.” Louie murmured. He took his hands out of his pockets, laying them on his legs as he talked. “Um… so, I was at my uncle’s Money Bin. Apparently, some thieves had broken in, tried to steal stuff… the Beagle Boys, apparently. No idea how they got in. Me and my brothers went over when we heard about it… not that we needed to, it was all wrapped up by the time we got there. We saw the police were taking some of them away, and they were searching them… fishing gold out of their pockets and everything.

“I came over, saw this, like… gold ingot that had fallen on the floor. And I…” Louie swallowed, forcing himself to continue. “…I saw my reflection in it. Like I’d seen in the… in the dagger.” Louie took a moment, then finished, “And I just… same thing that happened with my golden khopesh. I just… froze up, couldn’t breathe right… it felt like I was back in that room, like…”

“Like you couldn’t escape?” Lake suggested.

“…Yeah.”

Louie fell silent. He heard the doctor scribble something else down.

“…And what did your family do, when you had your attack?” Dr. Lake asked.

Louie shrugged. “Took me home. Huey calmed me down, he’s, uh… really good at doing that. And I just watched TV for the rest of the day.”

Louie looked into the cup, his tired reflection staring back at him.

“…I used to really like gold.” He murmured.

“Did you like it because it was valuable, or for what it represented?”

“Both. Kinda. Having gold meant that you were rich.”

“And what does it mean to you now?”

Louie shrugged again. “I don’t know.” He mumbled.

The therapist was quiet for a moment. Louie looked up at the older drake, swaddled in an old grey turtleneck. He put his notepad down, then asked, “These panic attacks, they occur whenever something happens that reminds you of that… ‘adventure’, yes?”

“Yeah.” Louie nodded. “That’s why we don’t go on adventures anymore.”

“And the nightmares… do they occur in response to similar stimulus?”

Louie shook his head. “No, the nightmares just happen whenever. There’s no… rhyme or reason to them.”

“I see… and do you tell your family about the nightmares?”

“No… but they know.”

“And they take care of you when you have your panic attacks? You mentioned that your brother Huey is good at calming you down.”

“Yeah, yeah. They take care of me.”

Dr. Lake wrote down another note. “…Let’s go back to your last ‘adventure’, where this all started. Are you comfortable if we do that?”

“…Yeah.”

“In one of our previous sessions, you mentioned how the incident started off as a ‘routine adventure’.” The doctor recalled, flipping through his notes. “Could you remind me… what constitutes as a ‘routine’ adventure?”

“Uh… ancient ruins, deathtraps, treasure that’s either cursed or protected by another, scarier deathtrap…” Louie explained. “You know, like those Ford Windfall movies.”

“And you’ve always felt safe on those trips?”

“…Yeah? Like, it- it’s dangerous, but Uncle Scrooge always has our back.”

“You feel as if your uncle protects you?”

“…Why wouldn’t I?” Louie asked, confused.

“He doesn’t force you to go on these trips? You have the choice of staying behind?”

“Of course I- What do you mean? What is this?” Louie demanded.

“Calm down.” Lake said steadily. “I’m not trying to be accusatory. I’m just trying to get a better understanding of your… situation.”

“Really? ‘Cause it sounds like you’re saying that- that it’s my family’s fault that- that I’m like this!” Louie accused him.

Dr. Lake didn’t say anything, his face pensive. He leant forward in his chair, his hands clasped. “Louie… if I could speak frankly…” He said slowly. “Your family has a very unique lifestyle.”

“Yeah, we’re adventurers.” Louie retorted.

“I know that. But please, try to understand… there are very few children who live a lifestyle like yours. And those children are typically… quite troubled.”

Louie didn’t say anything.

“There are many people who would say that your circumstances aren’t healthy for a growing mind.” Lake continued. “And if your uncle didn’t have the reputation that he has… well, it’d be seen as a case of neglect, or abuse, even. I-”

“Abuse?” Louie spluttered. “You think my family’s- what the hell do you know about my family?”

“I’m saying this is how your circumstances can be perceived. These aren’t my views, and I don’t personally believe this to be a case of abuse. But I do think that your family might have had a role to play, however unwittingly, in your trauma. All I want is to get to…”

Louie stopped listening. He couldn’t hear him. He felt his breathing quickening, his heart racing, the doctor’s words flying back and forth in his head. The cup shook in his hands, there was a ringing in his ears, and-

~~~

He was in a doctor’s clinic.

He was sitting on a bare white bed, a bloodied bandage wrapped around his midsection. His hands were in his lap, and he felt exhausted.

Uncle Scrooge stood in front of him, one hand on his cane. His hat was resting on a nearby countertop, and he wore a strange, guilty expression.

“I’m sorry, Louie.” He told him quietly. “I should’ve been there.”

“Mm-hm.” Louie grunted noncommittedly.

Both Louie and June had been whisked away to the village doctor’s clinic the moment the family had escaped from Castelo de Cristo. Both of their injuries were flesh wounds, though June had lost a lot more blood than Louie had. It took a while for her to wake up, and neither Donald, May nor Webby left her side until she did. When Louie saw her, she was sporting bandages around her head that held a thick gauze to her wound.

Louie’s complication was the poison – the bulezau’s barbed tail had delivered a potent venom into his system. It was a small dose, thankfully, but it was still enough to warrant an overnight stay at the clinic.

Scrooge was talking again. Louie wasn’t listening. He just nodded dumbly and said, ‘Okay’ whenever the talking stopped. Eventually, Scrooge left the room, leaving Dewey as the only other person in the room, sitting in a nearby chair. Louie didn’t look at him. He just looked at the ground, his hands in his lap, and the tortured expression of the murdered girl burned into his retinas. He remained in that state for the rest of the day. It still hurt to move, and he needed to lean on Dewey to walk, so all he could do was sit on the bed and wait.

They were back on the plane in what felt like no time at all, and the flight felt like it only took an hour. Louie kept his distance from the others, sitting up on the upper level buried in his hoodie. He didn’t speak for the whole trip, not even when they landed back at the mansion. Huey and Della immediately rushed to his side, helping him walk back into the house and worrying ceaselessly over him, and Louie saw the other adults rushing out of the house as well.

Louie didn’t think he’d ever seen Daisy so terrified. She ran up to June immediately, hugging her tightly and apologizing profusely over and over again. June didn’t look like she knew how to react at all. She just lent dumbly into her foster mother’s embrace, allowing herself to be led back into the house with Donald and May in tow.

Webby followed them with Mrs. Beakley beside her. Neither she nor Louie spared a glance at each other.

Louie was taken to his bedroom by his mom, with both his brothers in tow. He had to move slow, every step causing a dull pain in his stomach. He was sat down gently on his bed, Della kneeling before him. “Hey,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

Louie grunted weakly, holding his wound.

“Do you want a can of Pep?”

“…Yeah.”

“Coming right up.” She stood back up, looking at all three of them. “You don’t have to worry about going to school tomorrow. We’ve told them what’s… well, we’ve given them a sanitised version of the story. You’ve all been through enough without having to angst about tests and stuff.”

Dewey frowned. “What happened to Huey?”

“…Something happened while you were away.” Della replied evasively. “But we don’t have to get into it now. What’s important is that you all recover from this, so you’ll stay at home. We’ll set up some sessions with Dr. Lake, maybe a-”

“No.” Louie interrupted.

“…Louie, you can’t-”

“You guys can do whatever you want, but I’m not seeing him.” Louie declared stubbornly.

“…Alright.” Della sighed. “You need to physically recover first, anyway. Just rest up, don’t exert yourself… if you need anything, just call me or your brothers. Okay?”

“Yep.”

Della gave him a weak smile, then left the three of them in the room.

Once she was out of earshot, Louie looked up at Huey. “Tell us what happened while we were gone.” He told him bluntly.

Huey hesitated. “…Louie, I don’t think you need to be-”

“I need to distract myself, Huey. Anything to stop me from thinking about last adventure or the pain, okay?”

“Or the stuff you said to Webby.” Dewey added, giving him a look.

“…I was kinda hoping I’d dreamt that.” Louie muttered.

“Well, you didn’t, and I feel like she deserves an apology.”

“Later. Now’s too soon.”

“What did you say to Webby?” Huey asked slowly.

“Just- tell us what happened.” Louie all but begged him. “Whatever it was, I can guarantee that it wasn’t as fucked up as what happened to us.”

“Language.” Huey chastised him.

With both of his brothers looking at him now, he sighed, reluctantly explaining, “If you must know, I got accosted at school the other day by someone from the FBI.”

“The what?” Dewey exclaimed in disbelief.

“…The Federal Bureau of Invest-”

“I meant like ‘what the hell’, dude. I know what the FBI is.” Dewey replied, annoyed.

Louie leaned forward, wincing as he did. “…What did the FBI want with you? Did they confuse you for me or something?”

“No, they- wait, why would they want to talk to you?”

“I dunno, I’m just the more suspicious one.”

“…Right. Well, what he wanted…” Huey continued, sitting on Louie’s desk chair. “And this is where it gets weird – he wanted me to talk about the Other Bin. Where we keep the dangerous stuff.”

“The…” Dewey frowned. “Isn’t that, like, top secret? I mean, we didn’t even know about it for like, two years.”

“It is. But he knew about it somehow. Or at least, he knew about some of the items we keep down there.”

“How?”

“No idea. But I did some research, and the guy who spoke to me…” Huey pulled out his phone. “His name is Agent Nickel, and – this is where it gets even weirder – he’s behind this.”

He brought up a picture of a large, dark figure being shoved into a police car, showing it to both of them. Louie narrowed his eyes at what he saw, asking cautiously, “That’s… that’s that ‘Phantom Blot’ guy, isn’t it?”

“Yep. And this…” Huey swiped through his gallery. “…is Steelbeak, being brought in by the Arizona police. And this is Rockerduck,” He added, swiping to the next picture. “Also getting arrested. And this one- well, we didn’t fight him, but he was one of FOWL’s administrators. All of these senior-level FOWL agents, everyone who fled from the fight at Alexandria, almost all of them are in prison now – and this Agent Nickel guy was behind all of those arrests.”

“Holy crap…” Dewey murmured.

“Lang-”

“This guy brought down FOWL! I mean, we defeated them first, but he- wait, shouldn’t this mean that he’s on our side?” Dewey questioned confusedly. “He obviously knows FOWL were the bad guys, why’s he after us?”

“I don’t know.” Huey admitted, putting his phone away. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Maybe he’s covering his tracks?” Louie suggested. “Like…” He winced as he shifted his position, “…there’s no way that this guy just happened to know exactly where all of these FOWL guys were hiding out. That’s something you can only learn from the inside.”

“You mean Nickel’s ex-FOWL?” Huey frowned. “That explains the arrests, but what does he have to gain by going after Uncle Scrooge?”

Louie shrugged. “Dunno.”

He felt his phone ping in his hoodie pocket. He frowned, pulling it out and looking at it.

It was from Doofus Drake.

“So, what happens now?” Dewey asked. “Like, we can’t go on another adventure if we’re being watched by the government, right?”

“I don’t think we’d be going on another adventure regardless.” Huey replied flatly. “Not after what happened on this one.”

Louie put his phone away, trying not to betray the surge of panic he’d gotten. “Yeah, nah, dude. This adventure was a disaster.”

The door opened again, and Della stepped in with a cool glass of Pep in her hand. “Hey, dudes.” She handed the glass over to Louie. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, mom.” Louie murmured, taking the glass and taking a long sip of it. After a moment, he asked quietly, “Could I be, like, left alone for a bit?”

“You sure? You don’t want to talk about-”

“No.” Louie replied brusquely. Hesitating, he added less harshly, “Not… yet. I just… need to be alone.”

Della shared a concerned look with her other two sons, then replied, “…Alright. If you need anything, just shoot a text to me or your brothers, ‘kay?”

“Yeah.”

Della hesitated, then added, “…You don’t have to see the doctor if you don’t want to. But you should still talk to someone about stuff like this. Trust me, if you just let it stew…”

“Yeah, I know.”

Reluctantly, they left his room, leaving Louie alone. He waited a few moments after they left, listening to their footsteps disappear down the corridor, then he pulled his phone out again, checking Doofus’s message.

I see you’ve returned, it read. Bring my present to where we last met. Sooner rather than later.

“God… fuck.” Louie swore under his breath. He stood up, wincing at the pain, and trudged to his door. He opened it, looking down both directions of the corridor, just in case either of his brothers were secretly listening. Seeing nobody, he shut his door and hobbled back to his bed, dialling the number that the text had come from.

Only a few seconds later, there was an answer from the other end. “Llewellyn.” Doofus greeted him boredly.

“Hey, Doofus, buddy!” Louie replied, trying to sound confident. “Hey, look, I’m gonna just say it and save us both a car trip – I don’t have a treasure for you.”

“…Is that so?” Doofus replied disinterestedly.

“Yeah, I know. I know how it looks, but the thing is-” Louie bit back a hiss of pain as he sat down on the bed. “…my uncle had been duped. There wasn’t any treasure for me to grab, so- so you can’t exactly blame me for not-”

“I thought I was clear, Llewellyn.” Doofus interrupted him. “Bring me my trinkets, or your school finds something… unpleasant in your locker.”

“I know, but there- there were no trinkets to nab.” Louie chuckled nervously. “You gotta understand that!”

“I believe I mentioned, last we spoke, about perusing your uncle’s collection?”

“That’s not an alternative. He’ll know, man.”

“We both know that’s not my problem.”

“Look, just- be reasonable.” Louie groaned. Thinking quickly, he told him, “My family goes adventuring every weekend, right? Why can’t I just get you something on our next adventure?”

“And give you and Chanda time to ruin me?”

Louie froze. He heard Doofus chuckle and remark, “Yes… I know you two are plotting against me. Really, Llewellyn? Trying to wriggle out the moment you’re out of earshot?”

Louie took a few moments to compose his answer, replying carefully, “…Guys like us don’t like being blackmailed, Doof. I feel like you’d do something similar in my position.”

“Hm.” Doofus sounded amused.

Louie sighed, continuing, “Look, your blackmail isn’t going to work anyway. I don’t know if you caught on from how awful my voice sounds right now, but I’m not going into school this week. And if a bag of weed just magically shows up in my locker when I’m not even there, I can refute that easily, can’t I?”

When Doofus didn’t respond, Louie insisted, “You have to give me a week.”

“…Hm.” Doofus didn’t sound so amused this time.

After a moment, he said coldly, “Next Sunday. I want something by then.”

“I can get you something by Sunday.” Louie lied.

“And I expect it to be gift-wrapped.” Doofus added before hanging up.

“Of course, yeah.” Louie chuckled to himself in the brief moments before his smile vanished. “Fuck you. Fuck you all the way to Hell.”

He slowly laid down on his bed, throwing his phone to the side and staring hopelessly up at the ceiling. He already knew he was going to have a bad week.

~~~

Bentina handed Webby a glass of water. “Here. This will help.”

“…Thanks.” Webby mumbled, taking the glass and taking a sip.

They were in Webby’s room, on the library floor. Webby was sitting on the stairs leading up to her proper bedroom, with Bentina kneeling before her. She had a hand on her granddaughter’s shoulder, looking sympathetically into her eyes.

“…Do you need anything else?” Bentina asked.

Webby shook her head, taking another sip of water. “No.”

Bentina was quiet for a moment, before saying softly, “Those men… they were trying to kill you.”

“I know.”

“If it hadn’t been for whoever saved you, you would be in a much worse place. You know that?”

Webby frowned, looking up at her. “Are… you trying to make me feel better about it?”

“I’m trying to make you understand that it couldn’t have gone any other way.” Bentina told her. When Webby didn’t respond, Bentina insisted, “It had to be done.”

“…I don’t like that idea.” Webby murmured.

That’s because you’re young, Bentina thought to herself. But she said nothing, only looked at her granddaughter sadly.

“…I’ll get you something sweeter.” She decided, standing up. “Apple juice?”

“…Yes, please.”

Bentina left the room, leaving the door open behind her. She made her way to the kitchen, where she found Donald, Daisy, and Scrooge having a hushed conversation. They stopped as she entered, though it didn’t escape Bentina’s notice that their words had a somewhat heated edge.

“…How’s Webby?” Daisy asked anxiously.

“It’ll take a while. But she’ll be fine.” Bentina replied. “May and June?”

“…May’s alright.” Daisy answered her, worry painted across her face. “But June… she’s barely said a word since she got back. It’s like she’s catatonic.”

“She’s had a head wound. She’ll recover in time.”

She walked over to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a bottle of juice.

“You can stop blaming yourselves, by the way.” Bentina added over her shoulder.

“It was our adventure.” Donald lamented, shaking his head.

“We sent them there, Bentina.” Daisy insisted. “June and Louie got hurt – seriously hurt – because we didn’t see this coming.”

“How would you have seen this coming?” Bentina questioned simply, walking over and putting the bottle on the table. “Our research gave no indication that anyone had lived in those ruins for centuries. And the only hint we would have had of them was a single missing person report. There was no way you could have known.”

“Goldie did.” Scrooge spoke up miserably. “She up and told me to my face. I didn’t listen.”

Bentina frowned. She opened up one of the cupboards, replying, “Well, you’ve made worse lapses in judgement.”

Scrooge gave her an angry glare. “A lass died, Bentina. Barely older than the kids.”

“And sitting here, feeling sorry for ourselves, will not bring her back or make the children feel any better.” Bentina said dryly. She put down the glass for Webby, inquiring, “You contacted the Portuguese authorities, yes? You told them what happened?”

“…I gave them a truncated version of it, aye.”

“And her family has her body?”

“Aye.”

“Then that is all that we can do.” Bentina told them simply, pouring the glass.

The kitchen door opened again. Della walked in, looking just as tired as the rest of them. “Hey.” She murmured. The others greeted her back.

“How are the boys?” Donald quacked concernedly.

“…Dewey’s handling it pretty well.” Della sighed, heading over to the fridge and reaching towards the top. “That boy’s unshakeable. But Louie…”

She took down a bottle of Irish whisky, admitting, “…He’s not gonna be okay for a while. He’s been doing so well, opening up to us and everything, but after this… I wouldn’t be surprised if he starts pushing us away again.” She laid out a number of glasses on the table, asking, “Anyone want some?”

They all nodded, save Bentina. Della poured the four drinkers a shot each, then promptly drank hers in one gulp. Everyone else took a sip of their glass.

“God, those poor fuckin’ parents.” Della muttered, pouring herself another shot. “Can’t imagine what they’re going through right now.”

“If it hadn’t been for that gunman, we’d be going through it too.” Donald mumbled.

“God… the idea of losing one of them makes me wanna puke.” Della winced. Holding up her glass, she asked frustratedly. “And we have no idea who that guy was? Not even a hint?”

“Nope.”

“Great.” Della muttered, downing her drink. “One more mystery to deal with.”

Donald nodded. Then, he frowned, looking up at her. “…One more?”

“Huey got accosted by someone at school.” Daisy muttered, her drink untouched. “From the FBI, apparently, talking about-”

Scrooge suddenly bent over in a coughing fit, slamming his half-finished drink on the table. He waved them away as they came to try and support him, thumping his chest as he cleared out his throat. When it was over, he looked back up at his family in shock and anger.

“…What?” He hissed.

#ducktales aftermath #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #fanfiction #scrooge mcduck #louie duck #dewey duck #huey duck #webby vanderquack #donald duck #daisy duck #della duck #bentina beakley

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lavenderbexlatte · 11 months

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day 24: food play

nct/wayv 1.3k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Xiao Dejun NSFW

🖤 warnings: my ridiculous passionate undying love for xiaojun, not letting ur puppy watch u get down n dirty, improper use of ice cream bars 🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

"What the hell are you doing?"

He's completely frozen like you caught him committing a petty crime, like a dog with its head in the cupboard.

That's not too far off, actually, because Bella is right behind him, beagle tail wagging as she expects a bite of whatever her dad is trying to find. In the freezer, though. Not the cupboard.

"Nothing," Dejun answers.

Really, you're not shook about the snack. He can eat what he wants, when he wants. You're just wondering why this is happening at nearly three in the morning. The witching hour, man. Middle of the night. Making suspicious noises in the dark, dark kitchen.

"I heard a noise, I thought Bella was breaking something," you say, squinting even in the dim light of the freezer.

He relaxes. "Oh. No. Just me."

Just him. No dog messes to clean up, which is a huge relief. You're sleepy as hell.

"Then eat your whatever and come back to bed," you say.

"Wait."

"What?"

"You wanna try this?"

You really want to bury yourself back under the covers, and pass out for the remaining few hours until you need to get up for work, but you're only human. Your ability to resist your most favorite boy, with his messy middle-of-the-night hair, still rifling through the fridge, is extremely low. Basically nonexistent. If he's having fun, you want to be there.

He's just so excited. Tail wagging, basically.

It's three in the morning.

You sigh. "What is it?"

He brightens. You swear you can see the fine, sparkly glitter cascading off him, like a cartoon character at peak power. See, this is the energy you can't resist.

"I found these Oreo ice cream things," he says.

Of course, they're Oreo.

After the second or third time Ten roasted him for making shitty desserts in the microwave, Dejun made it his personal mission to find the best store-bought Oreo flavored snacks and desserts. Cookies and cream flavored confections are included, you've been told, but on thin fucking ice.

The best one needs to be found, and he's gonna be the one to find it.

"They're good. I ate one on the way home," he tells you.

"How many did you get?"

The heavy plastic shopping bag that comes out of the freezer is all the answer you need.

"A few," he says, diplomatically.

"More than five?"

"No comment."

"More than twenty?"

He grins. "No."

"Then we're fine," you decide.

"Do you want one?"

"Sure."

Dejun hands you a flimsy blue packet emblazoned with the Oreo logo. Looks pretty good, at least.

You open it up and take a bite. Yeah, pretty good. Nice.

In stark, pitiful contrast, Dejun opens his own ice cream, bites off the end, and immediately drops a big chunk of black chocolate coating onto his white tee.

"Fuck."

"Clumsy," you say, fondly.

It stains, because of course it does. You watch his panic build, as you lean down and retrieve the piece of chocolate so that Bella doesn't get to it. He darts for the sink, and he scrubs at the dark spot with some water, but it doesn't budge.

"It'll come out," you tell him.

"Still," he grumbles.

He strips off the shirt, while you watch with pointed interest. You get to see him naked a lot, but hey, sue you. You enjoy it every time.

The shirt gets yeeted, and the ice cream melts down his hand.

"Careful," you warn.

But the vanilla bar melts down his hand, down his arm, and as he raises the bar up, panicky, to try and fix it, the trail of white drips onto his abs.

He's gotten skinny-guy jacked, lately, and the melted dessert falls enticingly into the little ridges between his abs. He just stares down at it, annoyed.

You, on the other hand, are getting an idea.

"Hey," you say.

He glances up. "Yeah?"

You grab hold of his wrist, and push the softened half-eaten ice cream bar into his chest. He yelps. Which, yeah. It's still cold and the texture is weird. But still...

"Jeez!" he yelps louder.

"Let me just-"

It's three in the morning. It's not your fault.

You lean in, take hold of his thin, broad shoulder, and you lick a stripe up his chest. The ice cream is sweet and cool, and the warm smoothness of his skin underneath is a strange thrill. You just kind of vibe with it for a second. You go in to lick him again, this time, sweeping over a nipple.

"Oh-KAY!" he says, stumbling back a step. "Okay! Wow!"

Poor guy is flushed and wild-eyed. He glances down at his dog, who's just watching, like she wants to go next.

"Sorry, should have asked," you say, shameless.

Dejun looks down at his chest, at the flecks of ice cream and the clean trails you've left behind. You're looking a little lower, at the very sudden interested shape in the front of his pajama pants. Incredible. Your impromptu plan worked like a charm.

What he says, when he finally speaks, is, "Not in front of the puppy."

Bella gets locked out of the bedroom, but one of the ice cream bars gets to come in.

Another one, a fresh one. It's melting, but that's kind of the point.

"You're super weird," he tells you.

"I'm exciting," you correct him.

Clothes are lost, the tingling arousal you'd already been feeling from putting your mouth all over him rising with every inch of skin revealed. Dejun still seems flustered, but he's a cocky bastard. You can see his stupid rizz coming in strong.

You're eager to rip open the next ice cream. Clasped in the excited warmth of you hand, it's mostly melted, squishy in the package. You liked doing it more than you thought, the first time. What was mostly impulse turned into something that you can't wait to try again.

But you don't get to do that, because Dejun snatches the ice cream away.

"Hey, what - oh!"

The dude isn't the tallest, not the biggest, but he's got the motivation and the audacity. He pushes you right onto the bed and crawls on top of you. He sits on your thighs, pinning you in place pretty effectively. You could probably get him off you, if you wanted, but why would you want to?

"This is revenge," he says, dramatic, per usual.

"Do it."

Melted ice cream is fucking cold.

It's cold, but it feels...nice. You're squirming under Dejun as he rips the packet with his teeth and drips the melty vanilla ice cream down your torso. Careful, so that it doesn't run down your sides and stain the sheets.

There's something extra obscene about the color, you muse, as you take in the little shapes he's drawing on you.

"You know what," he says, peering down at your messy chest and stomach. "I get it."

The cold was interesting, but the warmth is even more thrilling.

Dejun's careful tongue, tracing the lines he drew, warm against the chill on your skin. His teeth, as he nips at the thin skin over your ribs, a slow drag over your sternum.

His eyes have fluttered shut. His hand is splayed over your torso, long pretty fingers.

"Jun," you say, serious.

"Mm?"

He's not really listening. He glances at you, and then he adjusts the angle of his head just a little bit, calculated, so that you can see the very best of his sharp jaw, his long lashes.

Fucker. He knows how pretty he is, and he's weaponizing it.

"Jun," you repeat.

"Yes?"

"Does this get to be on your Oreo dessert tier list?"

Now, that one makes him sit all the way up again, face thoughtful. He still has the ice cream wrapper clutched in one hand, and he straightens up on top of you as he rips open the package all the way and takes out a piece of the chocolate coating. He eats it.

"I dunno," he says. "I think we need more research."

You wriggle again, the tacky feeling on your skin starting to get weird. "More research?"

"Yeah. I mean. For example. Is that the tastiest thing in the room?"

His smile is so stupid. Can't even sell an innuendo without cracking up.

"Let's find out."

#kinktober 2023 #kpop kinktober #nct fanfic #wayv fanfic #nct xiaojun fanfic #nct xiaojun smut #wayv xiaojun fanfic #wayv xiaojun smut #xiao dejun fanfic #xiao dejun smut #wayv smut

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simplyclary · 1 year

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Red, White and Royal Blue: A Royal Obsession

(Photo credits: Entertainment Weekly)

This is honestly a long overdue [personal] review of one of my most favorite book to movie adaptations EVER, considering it came out last August 11, 2023, and I wrote this entire thing on October 11, 2023 (Wow, on the 2nd month anniversary of the movie's release! How ironic!). But hey, what's important is it's here and it's here for you to read.

To be quite honest with you all, I have no particular format for this review, but I will be reviewing the storyline, the characters, the dialogue and what's in the book but not in the movie and vice versa.

I will also discuss the perfection that is the CASTING!! Like I can't imagine anybody else as Alex and Henry than who was casted, and you should know their names by now even though I'm gonna state their names a little later, so stay tuned.

Feel free to keep reading even though you haven't watched the movie or read the book, I'll leave it to your discretion but there is a section where I discuss the differences between the movie and the book so skip that if you wish ;)

So with that, I'll go ahead and jump into the movie and book review.

RED, WHITE AND ROYAL BLUE MOVIE AND BOOK REVIEW

Let's talk about the storyline first.

The storyline is not one for your typical romantic comedy. To be honest, this is the first romantic comedy storyline of its kind that I have ever seen in my life, like its not set in like high school or whatsoever where stakes are low. This is sort of high stakes (though not fantasy level high stakes), considering that the lives of the main characters Alex and Henry are forever altered with what happens in the story. This is also a story with an enemies/rivals-to-lovers trope, which I personally love, like I'm such a fan for any story with that trope.

The story has plot and it's a good one. It's one of those plots that are sort of unforgettable and you really need to watch until the end to find out what happens. The storyline of this balances the comedy to the romance and the drama. Like I love that so much, it's everything I want in a romantic comedy story.

Also, there are certain changes between the movie and the book but I'll discuss that in a bit.

Now, let's talk about the dialogue.

With regards to the dialogue, I wouldn't call it cringe because some of the lines are just the wittiest and hit lines that I have ever heard and read. The banter between characters is so fun to read and the way the actors delivered the dialogue is just worth remembering. Like there are certain scenes that I can never unhear from my brain, even while I was reading the book. I would also like to point out that the dialogue are not those cringy one-liners that other rom-coms have and so, it was one aspect that set it apart from your typical rom-com.

One thing that I would like to point out is the conversations between Alex and Henry through text and emails. Now, this was an aspect in the movie that I loved, like the way they executed their conversations in the emails and texts by having text bubbles show up is just cool. Their emails were longer in the book, with some poetry involved but I didn't mind how it turned out in the movie.

I'll now talk about the characters and the utter PERFECTION that is the CASTING.

This story does not have an overload of characters, which makes it easy to remember almost everybody in the story. There were some characters who were not included in the movie or was changed in the movie but kind of had the same vibe with the original character in the book. The titular characters of this story are Alex Claremont-Diaz and Prince Henry. Notable side characters include June Claremont-Diaz, Nora Holleran, Princess Beatrice, Zahra Bankston, President Ellen Claremont, Oscar Diaz, Shaan Srivastava (Henry's equerry), Rafael Luna, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, Duchess Catherine of Edinburgh, Queen Mary and Henry's pet beagle David.

Casting wise, I have nothing to say except that the characters were casted perfectly. Having Taylor Zakhar Perez as Alex and Nicholas Galitzine as Henry was nothing but PERFECT! Like, their chemistry was off the charts and emanating through the screen as I was watching the movie. The banter that flowed between them is so natural and so fun to watch. They did have to be close immediately because of the intimacy of the story, and I love how easily they got along considering that Nick was casted first and they had to find someone who can easily bond with him and I'm happy they found Taylor because their friendship is a gem to be treasured.

Even when I read the book after watching the movie (I know, it's a sin. PEACE!), I heard their voices in my mind as I was reading their characters' dialogues. As for the supporting characters, Uma Thurman as President Ellen Claremont was a force of nature, her speech toward the end of the movie was something else, Sarah Shahi was hilarious and iconic as Zahra, Rachel Hilson as Nora is the best friend you want in your life, and Ellie Bamber as Princess Beatrice is the sweetest and supportive sister you want with you during tough times.

Honestly, I have nothing but praise for the casting of this movie. Other casting directors should learn from this (just kidding, but lowkey, yes, they should!).

Moving on to the twists and differences from book to screen.

Similar to every other book to screen adaptation, not every element from the book gets adapted on screen and this movie is no different. Certain characters were also not adapted and changed and certain scenes were not included.

Let's talk about the differences in characters first.

One of the characters that I really wanted to see in the movie (this is after reading the book already) was June Claremont-Diaz. June is Alex's older sister and the First Daughter of the US. She was not included in the movie, which kinda made me sad because her banter with Alex and Nora is one of my favorites in the book. Also, she just provides that sisterly vibe to Alex similar to what Beatrice provides to Henry. I would've also loved to see the Claremont-Diaz siblings banter on screen but sadly, that is not the case. I would also like to mention that one of my favorite actresses Emeraude Toubia was the fancast for June and simply imagining her with Taylor just makes me giddy and happy.

Another character that was not there but mentioned multiple times in the movie was Henry's mother Duchess Catherine of Edinburgh. She was present in the book but not in the movie so that's another character that I would've loved to see on screen.

For the characters that were changed, a few notable ones were Rafael Luna. Rafael's character became Miguel in the movie, and believe me when I tell you that Miguel irritates me in the movie, especially when he is around Alex, which is always! Another notable character change was the royal ruler of England. In the book, it was Queen Mary but in the movie, the character became King James so it was a transition from a queen to a king which I don't mind.

So far, those are the only ones that really come to mind. The other side characters like Zahra, Nora, Shaan, and Percy were maintained. I would also like to add that it's a smart move when they decided to have the author of the book Casey Mcquiston appear in the movie! That's a slay, honestly.

As for the differences in the storyline and dialogue...

Storyline-wise, the movie stayed pretty true to the book, which is honestly good because I am not the biggest fan of when they put too much twists in a book to screen adaptation that sometimes it already strays away from the original plot. Some iconic scenes from the book that did not make it to the movie (the Cornetto scene, for example, but it was released later on) and some minor changes to places were made like in the book, Alex and Henry first met in the Rio Olympics while in the movie, they first met at the Melbourne Climate Conference.

Dialogue-wise, it is pretty much the same thing. Some dialogue was just made more dramatic in the movie (Zahra saying "I will Brexit your head right off your body" to Henry in the movie is one of my favorites), but most of it was taken from the book itself which honestly, slay because the book basically gives you your script so if changes were to be made, it would be minor and not super major.

More deleted scenes could possibly be coming, so keep manifesting for their release, you guys!

Before I end, let's talk intimacy, smut and spice

This story is definitely not YA, and it has spice and smut within. Honestly, I would rate the spice 3/5 chili peppers because it's not like a full-blown "frack me boneless" or something but it still has hooking up and making love scenes that are essential to show the growing romance between Alex and Henry. To be fair, since I watched the movie before reading the book, I was surprised by the speed of the spice but I was also enchanted by the tenderness of when they made love in their room in Paris. Like that scene was beautifully executed and I was speechless after that.

The intimacy level of the story is one of the main reasons (if not the main reason) why Nick and Taylor had to be close so fast because the level of trust that needs to be established in order to execute the intimate scenes is necessary between two actors. Their dedication to their craft just leaves me in awe every time I think of the care and work they, along with the entire cast and crew, put into this movie.

Now, to conclude,

To end, I do not regret watching Red, White and Royal Blue. It's one of those feel-good movies that I could never get tired of no matter how many times I have already seen the movie, read bits of the book and heard the dialogue. It's just that good. The movie easily became a comfort movie for me and the book is one of my 5-star reads for the year.

History, huh? This movie definitely made some.

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #rwrb movie #alex claremont diaz #prince henry rwrb #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #firstprince #review

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mizjoely · 6 months

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For sherlollyweek2024. Thank you, @sherlollyappreciationweek for hosting!

Also on AO3 here.

Hounded

Canon Compliant Morgue Moments: Missing/potential scene set during "The Hounds of Baskerville". Sherlock has admitted to seeing the hound after denying doing so, admitted to being scared, deduced the inn's occupants, and finished his manic episode by sneering that he doesn't have friends. At that point, John storms out, and later Sherlock texts him about Henry's therapist. So it seems he's calmed down a bit - perhaps because he made a quick mobile call to the one person who might be able to talk him down?

"Yes, Sherlock? What do you -"

Molly frowned into her phone as Sherlock's excited babbling interrupted her question. "Wait, slow down, what's this about a hound?" she finally managed to break in. "Where are you?" Her frown deepened, lines creased between her brows and head tilted to the side as she attempted to hold the mobile between shoulder and cheek. Whatever Sherlock had called her about - what kind of hound, she wondered briefly - bassett, blood, or beagle? - she still only had about a half-hour to finish eating before she had to get started on her next autopsy.

"A hound, Molly! An enormous hound! I saw it, but I couldn't have seen it - it's not possible! I lied and said I didn't see it, but I did and John thinks I'm crazy, I know he does!"

Sherlock was as close to panicky babbling as she'd ever heard him. "Sherlock, whatever you are, it's not crazy," she said as firmly as she could as Sherlock took what almost sounded like a sobbing breath. She took a calming breath of her own. "Do you have a list?"

Silence greeted her question, a silence that was broken finally by the sound of a ragged breath being drawn - immediately followed by a sardonic bark of laughter. "It's not drugs, Molly, at least nothing that I intended…"

He fell silent again, but Molly waited patiently, grabbing a quick forkful of her lasagna as she did so. If Sherlock said it wasn't drugs, then it wasn't drugs, but clearly her question had set off a train of thought he was currently following. If he'd been standing in front of her, she fancied he'd be staring off into the distance the way he did when his mind was racing to a conclusion, possibly with his fingers waving a bit in front of his face.

That little quirk was one she'd always found endearing, made him seem that much more human than the cold-blooded deducing machine he seemed to want everyone to believe him to be.

She knew better, or thought she did. Hoped she did, anyway, even though he'd pretty thoroughly shot her down the one time she'd worked up the nerve to ask him for coffee. Had he really misunderstood her, or-

"That's it! Of course!" Molly nearly dropped the phone, and did drop her fork onto the floor. Luckily she always kept a spare one on hand, never knew when it might come in useful!. So she fished it out of her handbag and started to ask Sherlock what this call was about when he abruptly ended the call.

She glared down at her mobile in annoyance. It was a good thing she lo-liked him a great deal! she thought in total exasperation. Sherlock and his games. Well, probably it was something to do with a case but honestly, one of these days she was going to get fed up enough to demand that he answer a question for her before she answered one of his!

oOo

Back in Dartmoor, Sherlock grinned as he flipped his mobile in the air and caught it one-handed. As he typed in a quick message to John, he found his thoughts wandering back to his brief conversation with Molly. She'd been wide of the mark, thinking he was back on the sweeties, but he had to acknowledge her right to question him about it. And, he further acknowledged, as he waited for John's response, it was that question that had brought things back into focus for him.

John might be the person who most frequently managed to nudge Sherlock's intellect in the right direction by means of his own ignorance, but he was hardly the only person.

He frowned at the thought; it was dangerously close to sentiment, and hadn't he just told John that he didn't have friends? He wasn't sure why it was a bad idea to think of Molly that way, but told himself that he didn't have time for such nonsense at the moment. He was on a case, and his feelings about Molly Hooper - not that he had any - could be safely ignored.

Or deleted. After all, what danger could there possibly be in removing anything he didn't need from the well-oiled machine that was his mind?

#sherlollyweek2024 #sherlolly #mizjoely writes #mizjoely's fics

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scotianostra · 7 months

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Charles Darwin, was born on 12th February 1809 in Shrewsbury, England.

Yes he is English, but he attended Edinburgh University and he liked us Scots in general, going by this quote from the man:

“Scotchmen are so civil and attentive, It is enough to make an Englishman ashamed of himself.”

As a medical student in Edinburgh, It was on the shores of the Forth, at Prestonpans and elsewhere, that he carried out some of his early scientific work. Long before he became famous for what he discovered in distant southern seas and lands and then used in development of the Theory of Evolution,

Darwin became an expert in the marine life, especially barnacles, of the Lothian coast. He also learnt how to stuff birds (a skill that would be invaluable when collecting scientific specimens during his southern voyage on the ship Beagle, years later). His teacher was a freed black slave, John Edmonstone, who lived in the same Edinburgh street as Darwin. Edmonstone had told him about the South American rainforest in his native Guiana. It’s fascinating to think that this man, John Edmonstone, whose name is all-but forgotten, taught a key skill to Darwin, taxidermy, one of the most influential figures in science. He also gave young Charles an early taste, in his imagination, of one of the globally important natural habitats whose pleasures he would later experience at first hand. Darwin wrote of him:

“By the way, a negro lived in Edinburgh … and gained his livelihood by stuffing birds, which he did excellently: he gave me lessons for payment, and I used often to sit with him, for he was a very pleasant and intelligent man.”

As well as being complimentary of us Scots, Darwin was also a fan of our capital city, he arrived in Edinburgh in October 1825. He and his brother lodged at 11 Lothian Street. He described his lodgings in a letter to his father:

“We got into our lodgings yesterday evening, which are very comfortable and near the College. Our Landlady, by name Mrs Mackay, is a nice clean old body, and exceedingly civil and attentive. She lives in 11 Lothian Street, Edinburgh and only four flights of steps from the ground floor which is very moderate to some other lodgings that we were nearly taking. The terms are 1£-6s for two very nice and light bedrooms and a nice sitting room; by the way, light bedrooms are very scare articles in Edinburgh, since most of them are little holes in which there is neither air not light.

“We set out and walked all about the town; which we admire excessively; indeed Bridge Street is the most extraordinary thing I ever saw, and when we first looked over the sides we could hardly believe our eyes, when instead of a fine river we saw a stream of people.

“We have just been to church and heard a sermon of only 20 minutes. I expected from Sir Walter Scott’s account a soul-cutting discourse of 2 hours and a half.”

Not all was good though, Darwin had no time for Alexander Monro tertius, who had followed his grandfather and father as professor of anatomy, as he describes in a letter to his sister Caroline:

Monro “made his lectures on human anatomy as dull as he was himself.” “I dislike his lectures so much that I cannot speak with decency about them. He is so dirty in person and actions.”

Some years later Darwin visited Edinburgh again, in 1838, on his way to study the geology of Glen Roy. He spent some time on Salisbury Crags, studying the geology described by Hutton.

#scotland #scottish #history #english #geologist #natura #ist #biologist

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azurdlywisterious · 6 months

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The Brainless Ones (part 2)

AN: I'm back with more of Sir’s adventures! I wanted more Sir so now y'all get more Sir.

Word count: 1.3k

CW: body horror played for comedy (idk how else to describe sir’s empty head), very unethical scientific practices, body horror not played for comedy (if the centaurs count as body horror but I think they do)

“Where are we heading, Beagle?”

He runs his fingers through his silver hair. “End goal, New Vegas. But right now, we’re going towards a little town called Novac.”

“I’ve walked this way before,” I observe. “Where is Novac on this map?”

I show him the screen built into my arm, which currently has a map of the area pulled up.

“I’m never gonna get used to this,” he mutters under his breath as he examines the map. "Uh, I think it's around here?"

He taps a spot on the map and a waypoint appears on the map. There's a small ping! noise, which causes Beagle to jump.

"You're very nervous," I observe.

"I still haven't fully grasped that this is my new reality," he retorts. "I've heard of lots of terrifying things out here in these sandy wastes."

"My interest has been piqued. What kind of things?"

"Radscorpions, geckos, the Powder Gangers out by the NCRCF..."

His voice trails off at that last one. His eyes lose focus, like he's seeing something playing out miles in front of us. I put my head as close to his as possible and zoom my eyes in as much as they can.

"What are you looking at?"

He jolts and does a small hop away from me. I can feel warm air on my skin. Is that his breathing? Dr. Dala told me about breathing, what it looked like, what it felt like. I don’t fully understand her obsession with it, but I am starting to gain my own appreciation for the habit.

“I was just… remembering something,” he says to me after he’s regained his bearings. “Nothing that a pretty lady like you should worry her pretty little head about.”

“Right,” I respond, disinterested in whatever it is he’s hiding. I continue to walk since he spotted nothing.

“Wait!” He half jogs to catch up to me. “Don’t you want to know what I was thinking of?”

“You can tell me if you want,” I reply, “but right now our main goal is Novac; and all this sand being blown by the wind is getting in my eyes.”

He doesn’t respond, instead lighting up another cigarette as we walk.

"We aren't walking on a road," I state. "Is there any reason for this?"

"Well, according to the maps, this is the fastest way to Novac," he tells me. "There is a longer route following the main road that crosses through a town called Nipton, but that place gives me the creeps.”

“Elaborate.”

“It's been radio silent for weeks. If anything happened down there, i doubt that it would be anything good.”

“You imply that Nipton is south?”

“Weird way of phrasin’ it,” Beagle remarks, “but yeah, I suppose so.”

I stop to show him a point on the map in my arm. “Is this Nipton?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’ve been there,” I inform him. “Boring place. Just a bunch of dead lobotomites everywhere.”

All he says in response to that is, “Oh,” before holding his cigarette in place with his teeth and shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

I continue to walk and he follows suit.

After a long while of silence, Beagle plucks the remains of his cigarette from his teeth, flicks it away, and asks me, “So what is a pretty lady like you doing wandering the desert all by her lonesome?”

“The great minds of the Think Tank made me to explore the new world beyond Big MT in their stead so that they may study it from the safety of their labs.”

“Wait…” He starts counting on his fingers before giving up entirely. “How old are you?”

“Depends,” I reply.

“Depends?”

“The body is roughly 26 years old, the computer parts that keep the body functioning are a few days old, and the data programmed onto my hard drives encompasses all of scientific knowledge that humanity has ever recorded and the Think Tank had ever saved to their computers. Though all of the components have been together for 32 days.”

“So you're 32 days old?”

“It appears so. Like Athena from the myths of the Old World, I emerged from the Think Tank fully formed.”

“Who’s Athena?”

I start to reply, but a flicker of movement from the neighboring hill catches my attention. I place a finger to my lips and crouch down. I zoom my sight in and study the creatures that caught my attention. The top half is a lobotomite torso and head, but the bottom half is a mass of tissue and extra arms acting as legs. Three tendrils hang out of its mouth like long tongues and it has no true arms.

Beagle notices what I’m looking at and grabs his gun. He’s aiming it wildly due to his shaking hands, a phenomena caused by the sudden influx of adrenaline in his body.

I gently lower the gun for him and start to quietly move closer, calibrating my long distance lasers as I move. The LRADs are already primed.

Using the pointed tip of my thumbnail as a scope, I aim a laser right between the thing’s eyes.

“Fascinating,” I remark as I see it spit sludge in our direction, taking plenty of photos as it does so. “One shot isn't enough to kill it.”

“What?” Beagle squeaks and pulls out a voice recorder. I gently lower that too before he starts talking into it.

The creature’s aim is not good enough to hit us with the sludge. That doesn't stop it from setting off my internal Geiger counter. My skin feels crackly. I need to end this quick.

The thing is charging at me and Beagle is starting to try and take voice memos again. I roll my eyes and let him. I just turn my ears off and fire enough shots to fell the beast.

I blow on my index finger to cool it off before extending the opposite hand to Beagle. I feel his hand vibrating on contact, so I grip it tightly to get it to stop shaking.

I lead him over to the corpse, the whole time him describing the encounter into his voice recorder in strikingly accurate detail. Despite his trembling hands, his voice is rather level, and nice to listen to. It’s soft and smooth, like the half melted butter on top of the waffles in those commercial breaks that Dr. 0 accidentally recorded along with his movies.

I turn my ears back off to remember to take more photos of the thing before teleporting it off to the Think Tank. I wince a bit as my still hot index finger lightly burns my temple.

I turn my ears back on, ready to listen to him talk; but all I hear is unvoiced gasping. I’m on alert.

“What is it?” I whisper urgently.

“The thing,” he points to where the creature once was. “It’s gone!”

“I teleported the cadaver back to Big MT,” I tell him, hovering my fingers by my temple. “Remember, if something bad happens to me while we’re out here, press on my temples and we’ll be teleported back to safety.”

He nods solemnly, processing the information as clear as day behind his eyes. As my science deputy, he deserves to know how to activate the teleported in case of an emergency.

He takes my arm, studies it, and places a new waypoint, saying, “I don’t wanna run into another one of those things. If we go up from here and then start cutting across, we should be fine.”

“Why not just go south to Nipton?”

He stares off into the distance and lights up another smoke. “There’s something that needs to be done up there anyways. And you’re just the person to help me.”

“Then why not just go directly to New Vegas?”

“Deathclaws,” Beagle replies coolly, taking another well timed drag of his cigarette.

“What are deathclaws?” I ask him.

“Nothing good,” he responds, gently lowering my arm for me; as if wanting to reach for my hand but not having enough courage to do so. “I’ll tell ya later.”

"When?"

"After you help me clean out the NCRCF."

#fallout new vegas #old world blues #fallout fic #sir of big mt #the brainless ones

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iciwelcome-home · 1 year

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A Rich Welcome Home AU - Welcome Mansion

Okay! I think I'll go for it, the AU of Welcome Home and it's the Rich!Wally Darling. No clue of the AU name of it, but maybe Welcome Mansion... eh. I'll work on it. Anyway! The ideas of the roles I'll give to cast of Welcome Home Show. Plus some small info in my AU.

Wally Darling - The owner of the Darling Mansion. Took ownership after his parents passed away when he was only 14. He's been kinda spoil by his parents, but slowly becomes kinda cold after losing his parents, fearing to lose anyone he's close too. (He's probably 5'2" ft tall in this AU). There's a rumor about Wally, but are they true?

Barnaby B Beagle - Butler and Guard. Has been best/close friends with Wally since they were kids (at age 6 or 7). His adoptive mom is part of a family of maids & butlers. So far, one of the ones that Wally is somewhat nice to. Barnaby tries his best to make sure no intruders gets in... He is a guard DOG 😆Sorry!

Julie Joyful - Journalist, disguise as a Gardener. Has been working as a journalist in her family business for 5 years. She has heard rumors about Wally Darling and hopes to get the info before the others. Her partner in crimes is Frank, who has worked with her for 2 years. In order to get the truth, she decide to 'work' as a gardener to get close... which is hard.

Frank Frankly - News Reporter, disguise as a Butler. Takes their job serious as a reporter, having some odd feelings about the Darling Mansion. Tries to Julie from going into trouble, they were force to 'work' as a butler in order to get some info. However, a certain butler is making things hard to focus. *coughs*Eddie*coughs*

Eddie Dear - Head Butler. Has follows in his father's footsteps in butler lines. Despite Wally's somewhat harsh orders, Eddie could tell Wally is lonely and he hopes someone would at least get Wally to be nicer. For now, he follows Wally's orders and looks after the mansion. He does help and teaches new butlers and maids when they arrived and he is taking interest on the new butler named Frank.

Howdy Pillar - Limousine Driver. Work as Wally's driver for 2 years. Well-manner and goes where Wally would like to go, he doesn't get harsh treatment... unless he has to carry what Wally will buy (mainly hair products). He would talk his troubles towards the mechanic when the limo needs tune up.

Poppy Partridge - Kitchen Maid; also head Maid. Is like the mom towards everyone and is one of the ones who Wally treats nicely. She enjoys cooking and feeding everyone. If she gets sick, Wally would step in, but many would quickly take over to cook since Wally is not good at cooking.

Sally Starlet - Scullery Maid. Good in washing clothes, she's one of the new recruits, not knowing much about the Darling family. She would sometimes be in charge of telling stories to Wally to help him sleep and she's good at it, acting out and stuff. She does wonder what happened to his parents though, but it's a touchy subject...

Home - Mansion, duh! Had been around since Wally's great grandpa was alive. In this AU, Home the descendant of living buildings and enjoys hearing music playing. Sort of a second close friend and one of the ones that Wally is nice to. Knew the Darling family and sometimes reminds Wally he's a tad too harsh. Home is also one of the two who knows what happened to Wally's parents, sadly... no one, but Wally could understood them.

Now for my OCs that will be in Rich AU...

Eric Hopper - A recent homeless rabbit puppet, soon to becomes Butler. Lost his home after his mom kicked him out for losing a job. Despite that, he's still kind. As a kid, he did found and return something to a puppet boy with blue hair, but it was so long ago, Eric doesn't remember who was the boy until Eric stopped a robber from taking money from Wally Darling. As thanks, Eric was dragged and asked to be a butler which Eric agrees until he kinda regrets due to Wally's treatment. It seems he can under Home... [Also! In Eric's Place, Y/N would be also be in this role]

Whiskers Furball - Mechanic. In charge of fixing the limousine and often hears rumors about the Darling family. Somewhat an Informant for Julie to get juicy gossip around the neighborhood. He seems to lit up when Howdy comes around.

Possibly more??

...I might change the roles, but let's go with these for now. 😅 I might add Barnaby's mom in the AU, along with Julie's siblings if I want to. I will tried to sketch the main ones out in the roles in the future.

#welcome home #welcome home au #rich!wally darling #Welcome Mansion #GinnyICi Words #wally darling #frank frankly #juile joyful #sally starlet #poppy partridge #eddie dear #howdy piller #barnaby b beagle #home welcome home #welcome home ocs #Eric Hopper (WH)#Dr. Whiskers Furball (WH)#my stuff~

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brokenpieces-72 · 5 months

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Paloma ‘Sunny’ Vascoe

Part 1 this is part 2

Paloma was loaded into a military jeep with Alejandro in the driver’s seat. When she reached for the back seat, he stopped her.

“Sit up front, you’re old enough. Need someone in shotgun.” He said. Paloma followed his order. In the seat he handed her a cap, telling her to put it on, and pull her hood up. Last thing he wanted was for the narcos to know she was with him. Clearly one of them knew something about her, he wanted to keep that list as short as possible.

“Yes sir.” She said.

The drive was quiet and awkward making it feel longer. She considered confessing everything right then and there. If only to save her from the suffocating silence. Alejandro even considered forcing it out of her now. Still she was a kid, and his friend’s daughter.

“Anything you want from home? I’ll ask Sergeant Parra to grab it for you.” Alejandro offered. Paloma thought about it for a bit.

“Hoodies, tank tops…” she suggested. Alejandro nodded. Not much of a talker.

“There’s a stuffed toy on my bed… beagle… would be nice…” she trailed off. He gave a half chuckle.

“The shoe box under my bed, I’d like that too.” She asked. He raised a brow and glanced at her for a moment.

“There’s something inside…it’s private…” she admitted.

“Need anything else? Medicines, documents? Money, jewellery, pictures?”

“Don’t really have any. Never needed them.” She exclaimed. Paloma pulled her knees up to her chest, before muttering, “Can’t have nice things.”

Alejandro stole another glance at her again. She was staring out the window, curled up in a ball. Marco told the colonel he had found her like that by the door way one night. She was scared and hungry and staring off. Taken her in ever since.

Alejandro and Marco had enlisted together. The two men remained friends even after Marco left, and he considered Alejandro family. One day Alejandro appeared at the house and found the girl in the living room before she hurried away like a startled cat.

Marco had to reassure Paloma that Alejandro was a guest, before she would even stay in the same room as him. The most recent time he’d seen Paloma was at a family gathering where she had made a mess all because of a table cloth getting caught on her belt. He remembered seeing her run away when Marco’s sister went off on her. The way Marco had chewed out his own sister was brutal, especially in front of everyone there. Marco loved Paloma, even if they didn’t share blood. Clearly Paloma loved him back.

“You are the nice thing Mija.” Alejandro told her. Paloma looked at Alejandro. “Marco told me so himself.”

There was more going on here, someone saw Paloma doing something. If she was an informant her intel had been a great help. Now she was paying the price for good deeds.

………

Rudolfo showed up to the safe house, with a small bag of her stuff, Alejandro letting him in. Certainly the first time he’d picked up items for a teenage girl. Then again he’d never expected to be assisting with witness protection of a teenage narcos.

“You talk to her yet?” He asked. Alejandro shook his head.

“Don’t want to scare her anymore than I have to. I have a plan.” The colonel said quietly.

Before the two men could discuss it further, they heard footsteps approaching. Paloma stood in the hallway, with her hoodie still on and the hat off. Rudolfo offered her a small smile as did Alejandro.

“Comfortable Mija?” Rudolfo asked.

“I will be.” She said, eyeing the bag of stuff. Rudolfo came over and gave her the bag.

“I got some extra clothes for you.” He exclaimed, handing the bag over. She returned his friendly smile.

“Thank you. Is um… is Marco awake yet?” She asked, hopeful. Rudy was caught off guard a bit.

“I haven’t been there yet. Someone is watching him though, I assure you.” Rudy said.

“Thank you again.” She said, before turning and going back to the bedroom, walking quickly. Rudolfo had to admit, he too was struggling to see how such a quiet girl could get involved with Narcos so closely. The door was shut behind her, and both men heard a lock turning.

“You have a plan Hermano?” Rudy asked. Alejandro nodded, looking toward her bedroom.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y_l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207

#colonel alejandro vargas #cod oc stories #cod oc #los vaqueros #rudolfo parra #call of duty modern warfare #there’s more #love this character #there’s a few more parts and stories

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theoddcatlady · 9 months

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Mr. Ferguson

I think the whole street breathed a sigh of relief when we saw the EMTs take a body bag out of the Ferguson house. I was only about ten or eleven at the time and it’s been a while so some details of my childhood are lost to time, but I can’t forget Mr. Ferguson.

There was never a Mrs. Ferguson in the picture, as far as I know. He lived in the house on the corner, the one with the bright yellow shutters and the gorgeous garden out back. The garden didn’t make up for the rotten old bastard he was. I wondered once if he was nicer when he was younger, when he didn’t have to walk with a cane and could actually get around without help, but my dad set me straight on that one. Mr. Ferguson had always been a terrible person and the neighbor from hell.

All day long, Mr. Ferguson would sit on his front porch in his rocking hair, grasping onto his black cane as he stared out on the street. If someone walking their dog even got close to his yard, he’d start spewing threats about what he’d do if the dog took a shit on his lawn. If a kid put even a toe on his property, he’d get up from that chair and start shouting more terrible things. I learned my first cuss words from Mr. Ferguson, he didn’t censor his language even among the smallest of ears. And he wasn’t all talk. One of my friend’s dogs wandered into the Ferguson yard, just sniffing around as beagles do, and Mr. Ferguson beat that dog bloody. The poor thing had anxiety for the rest of its life and if you so much as passed the Ferguson house with it the dog would lose its mind.

Other than him, our neighborhood was a friendly place. Summers were full of cook outs and pool parties, winters had Secret Santa gift exchanges and someone was always willing to help shovel out your driveway. You’d never be hard pressed to find a babysitter on short notice, odds are your friend had a teenage daughter willing to make a few bucks to make sure the kids were on bed in time.

But not Mr. Ferguson. People did try to bring him in on the fun sometimes. He’d scoff and tell them to leave him alone in no uncertain terms. Mom said he just wanted to be miserable. I didn’t understand how someone could want that and well, I still don’t.

One hot summer morning though, his caretaker came in to do a check and found him in his garden, dead as a door nail. Probably a stroke or a heart attack.

My mom made us go to the funeral. I don’t know why, she probably hated Mr. Ferguson the most and we were like one of five people that went. One of those people was the priest. At least it was short, the priest just said a few words about how we should treasure our lives and be good to others and then Mr. Ferguson was chucked into the ground.

That was that… or so I thought.

The accidents started happening just a week later.

I was at my friend Michael’s house, we were playing board games when we heard the crash. It was so loud it shook the house and Michael dropped his soda. Root beer spilled onto the carpet as we tried to figure out what that sound was for a second.

Then we heard his dad screaming bloody murder.

Forgetting completely about the spilled soda, we ran out to the garage where he’d been working on changing the oil in the car.

Michael’s dad was pinned by the car against the garage door, face white as a sheet as his head lolled to the side. I saw blood splattered against the off gray color of the metal and I puked while Michael ran inside to call 911.

It was luck that he survived. He never walked again and health issues plagued him for the rest of his life, but for a guy crushed by a car that’s probably best case scenario.

It was an accident, sure, but a weird one. The car just suddenly launched forward as Michael’s dad stood in front of it. But there was no one in the garage with him. So yeah. It was just an accident.

But accidents started happening more and more often.

The next one was at the final pool party of the season. We were all at the Benson house because they’d just gotten a brand new hot tub. There was probably like twelve kids running around, the sun was shining, the barbecue was sizzling. I had just gotten out of the pool to grab a lemonade and was chatting with Annie when I heard the pop.

Mrs. Benson and her friends had been relaxing in the hot tub, making jokes and laughing until the pop. Their bodies suddenly went rigid before they began rapidly jerking about and twitching. Mr. Benson shouted if she was all right and I heard this gurgled yell before Mrs. Benson went under.

The kids stampeded out of the pool and I smelled something burning before I realized that the hot tub was on fire.

Mrs. Benson and her sister ended up dying on the way to the hospital. The other woman ended up surviving but not without some serious electrical burns. Electrocution via hot tub. Just an accident. But there was one more accident we all missed until we returned to the pool to see a little body floating at the top. Three year old Maggie had fallen in during the chaos and drowned.

Mr. Benson moved away after that. Losing both his wife and youngest child in that house just killed something inside of him. But after he moved away, we all saw it happen.

His backyard became overgrown by plants. Not over a few weeks, like what happens when a house is uninhabited and there’s no one to mow the lawn. The very day after they’d left that house the backyard was now filled with dandelions, daffodils, lilies. and all sorts of flowers that shouldn’t naturally appear in the late summer.

It was like a garden.

Accidents happen, sure. But not like this. Not when a guy who’s been working home improvement his entire life ends up toppling from a ladder and breaking his spine. Not when a mom trips and falls face first into the open dishwasher and ends up getting impaled on a knife. Not when a toddler was left alone for just a few seconds and ends up nearly drowning in the bathtub.

Dogs ran into the road and ended up getting hit by cars. Kids fell from their bunk beds and cracked their heads like eggshells on their dressers. Teenagers got into fatal car wrecks. It was a mess.

Two other families ended up leaving our neighborhood and their yards had the same fate as the Benson’s- completely grown over. A morbid beauty.

Fall came and the yards grew brown but the gardens seemed to be even greener. The whispers started about a ghost. A ghost that was such a miserable old bastard in life and was now a nasty poltergeist in death.

Mr. Ferguson had never left our neighborhood.

It all came to a head when a tree was struck by lightning and a large tree limb crashed into our living room. I’d just tripped while picking up my things and suddenly the roof caved in above me. I was lucky I was on the ground. If I’d been standing, well, I’d probably not be telling you this story.

Two nights later my mom woke me up. She looked grim.

“Come on. We’re going to see Mr. Ferguson.”

When we walked out of the house, I saw everyone on our street was out. Everyone had this same grim look on their face. The deaths, the mutilation, it’d forever tarnished our street and we’d all had enough. We walked down the street, I saw several guys walk into Mr. Ferguson’s house with mallets and chainsaws, but we kept going with a few of the others. I saw that several of the adults were carrying shovels and containers of lighter fluid.

We walked into the graveyard and my mom led them right to Mr. Ferguson’s grave. She took a deep breath.

“… Start digging.”

It was the frantic endeavors of people who believed they were cursed. Dirt flew in the air and nearly pelted me in the head a few times. I hid behind my mom, who just stood there stone faced.

Even now the accidents weren’t over. A man tripped in the hole and his leg snapped like a twig. He wailed as he was dragged away by a few others before they got right back to digging. Someone else got smacked the face with a shovel and blood coursed down his face from his nose as he just kept on digging.

Finally the coffin was reached, the lid cracked open. Mr. Ferguson’s body laid inside. He didn’t even look dead, it was like he was just taking a nap.

Then they started pouring the lighter fluid in. It covered the corpse’s skin, his clothes. They probably added more than necessary. My mom struck the match and threw it in, shielding me from the sudden burst of flames.

I didn’t get to see the body, but I swore I heard that old man’s yelling as his body burned.

It was over after all that. The gardens were all dead by morning. The accidents stopped. And although we’d lost so many of our friends over the past year, we recovered. New neighbors moved in. We welcomed them into our fold. One or two asked about the property on the corner, the one that looked like a tornado hit it, and we’d just say it was vandals. They stopped asking. We never talked about what we did to Mr. Ferguson’s body. And soon we just stopped thinking about it.

I grew up on that street. Even now I only live a few blocks away. And for so long I wondered why our family was practically the only one untouched by the tragedy. We never got hurt, even when the tree branch came crashing into our living room.

I think I found out the answer. See, my mom passed away a few months ago from breast cancer and I’ve been going through her things. She’s always been such a good, kind woman and it was great seeing pictures of her helping plant the garden behind the church and teaching at the local school.

But in the bottom of the box, hidden under dozens of other albums, was a picture from when she married my dad. Unlike the family picture with the groom, all it was was my mom and an older man. I didn’t recognize him until I flipped the picture over.

On the back was written ‘Pauline Walters (P. Ferguson) and The Father of the Bride.’

#my stories

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bardinthezone · 1 year

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Night Vale and the Power of Stories

So I’ve been losing my mind about this latest arc. Full hyperfixation. Studying for finals? Calling my parents? Enjoying other hobbies? Eating?? Who’s she, never heard of her. There is only the “#wtnv spoilers” tag.

Anyways, inspired primarily by this post, this post, and this post, I have been thinking about Night Vale as a place of stories.

Night Vale is a deeply weird place. It is a place where all the crazy conspiracies and contradictions and creepy crawlies can coexist (try saying that 5 times fast), and it is built on stories.

We know from “109: A Story About Huntokar” that Huntokar singlehandedly saved the town from nuclear destruction in 1983. This in and of itself is beautiful, tragic, terrifying and wonderful (I could write a whole essay on the lasting effects of the Cold War on the American psyche and how that’s impacted our media, but that’s not what this post is about). But what Huntokar says in describing this moment is fascinating: “ The people of Night Vale huddled, waiting for the end to their story.” The use of the word “story” here is so poignant and poetic. This was her town, a narrative she had lovingly followed since its inception, with an ever rotating cast of characters, finally seeming as though it would come to an end. And yet she managed to continue their story. The people of Night Vale, of every alternate universe Night Vale, are kept alive because Huntokar wanted to keep the narrative going. It is a town kept alive-- inverted and shattered and bizarre, but alive-- because someone saw the tale coming to an end and wasn’t satisfied with that. Night Vale is a place of stories.

And Cecil. Cecil Gershwin-Palmer is such a wonderful enigma. He’s a deeply troubled man, he’s the town’s beloved radio host, he is the voice of Night Vale. As the town’s only (?) regular source of news, he carries incredible weight in shaping the public’s perception of reality. It is his radio show that keeps the people informed through all of these earth-shattering events-- it is Cecil who, for as goofy and cringefail (thank you @bigcommunist for that phrase) as he can be, has been responsible for keeping his citizens safe. In “227: A Word With Dr. Jones,” Dr. Janet Lubelle notes that one of his traits is “town leadership.” When Cecil speaks, things happen. He rallies the people, against Strexcorp or the Beagle Puppy or Steve Carlsberg and his dry, dry scones. Hell, he says “weather” and everyone stops, or sometimes (Like in “204: Audition”) it literally saves his life. @lostboywriting raises a fascinating theory about Cecil having inadvertently brought the Faceless Old Woman into existence through his repression of his complicated relationship with his mother-- and while this contradicts with the backstory presented in "The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives Inside Your Home," who’s to say that both origins can’t be true, with how splintered and fractured Night Vale’s existence (and especially relation to time) is? Perhaps Cecil, as the Voice Of Night Vale, is capable of changing the world more than he knows.

Either way, this is why Dr. Lubelle’s Explaining of the town has so much of a tangible effect on it-- because she’s coming in and using something “empirical” to change the narrative. That is why she’s so threatening-- because how do you argue with the facts? How do you argue with science? She is using logic to insist that her reality is right, that these stories and poetics used to keep the town alive are meaningless. That it would be better for them to not exist than to exist outside her narrative. She said it herself-- she cannot imagine that anyone thinks differently to herself about anything, and she is all to happy to provide any who disagrees with an Explanation. No matter the cost.

In 227, Cecil remarks that “Science is not good or bad, as language is not good or bad, as religion is not good or bad, because humans are not inherently good or bad.” This sets up a fascinating play between science, language, and religion that I think is perfectly encapsulated by Dr. Lubelle, representing science, Cecil, representing language, and Huntokar, representing religion. Whether she knows it or not, Dr. Lubelle is directly undoing all of the hard work of Huntokar, and attempting to use Cecil as the most powerful tool at her disposal.

And this works in conjunction with my distinction of the What vs. the Why. We can take the incursion point of November 7th, 1983, and view it through both lenses. From Huntokar’s perspective, we get the Why: Night Vale was in danger, and it needed saving, so she saved it. But from Dr Lubelle’s perspective, we just get the What: Night Vale was the target of a nuclear missile. Nuclear missiles are unstoppable by any force known to science. This is a town that should have been empty for 40 years.

I posit a world in which Dr. Lubelle reduces Night Vale to what it “should be:” A town ruined by nuclear destruction. The empirical facts, the anchors that held Night Vale down to reality, the threads that Huntokar broke-- Dr. Lubelle is seeking to tie them back together. And with the Voice of Night Vale on her side, Explained and ready to share the Truth, of course she can make that happen. Perhaps Huntokar takes center stage again to show that science is not the end-all-be-all. Perhaps Carlos steps in to replace Dr. Lubelle as the Scientist in this equation, to provide a good alternative to her callous methods.

Or I could be totally off-base with that prediction. I imagine the bodies being dug up in the sand wastes and the murals of flesh will play a major role in the finale. Maybe she’ll uncover the splintered realities of Night Vale and won’t know how to explain them away. Hell, people keep hyping up a Desert Bluffs return, what with the Sandstorm tapes and the talk of doubles-- Maybe Kevin and Lauren will be the “religion” in the triumvirate, and drive Dr. Lubelle mad with their unrelenting fervor. Who knows? I have my theories, but I’m just excited to see where this all goes.

Also from a meta perspective, this is 100% harkening back to all those early-days fan theories that “Night Vale is a normal town and Cecil is just off his rocker” (Thanks @maxgicalgirl for that one!). Welcome To Night Vale is a show that has never been about continuity and tight lore-- it’s about spinning a fun narrative, it’s about the poetry, the music, the aesthetics; it’s about everything that Dr. Lubelle HATES. From a meta perspective, Dr. Lubelle is every theorist who tries to ruin the magic of a story, who nitpicks it endlessly because it doesn’t adhere to how the “real world” functions. She doesn’t care about why story elements are included, she just needs what’s included to adhere to her worldview. And I can’t wait to see her get taken down, no matter how it happens.

Thanks again to @maxgicalgirl, @lostboywriting, @eclipse-song, and everyone who’s been sharing their thoughts about the latest arc on tumblr. I would not be writing this without y’all!!

#im sorry to everyone who says shes hot but shes basically a colonizer #''im new to your community but your culture is backwards and wrong''#''let me fix it with my superior science and reasoning''#shes so evil i hate her /pos #finknor wrote her so well #and janet varney is an incredible VA #i cannot express how much I love this arc so far #i really hope we get more on the 1983 storyline because that is just positively fascinating #a town that should have died long ago #that should have been reduced to ashes #and yet here they are #lubelle would fucking hate that if she found out #also WHATS GONNA HAPPEN TO EVERYONE WHO GETS EXPLAINED???#cause if cecil is getting explained i dont think itll be permanent #but #ough its just so GOOD #also carlos. my man. where are you. when are you gonna show yourself #when will we get to know your tragic backstory cause there is SOMETHING going on there #i swear she was just trying to get to carlos and the rest of the town was an added bonus #wtnv spoilers #wtnv 227 #wtnv #welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale spoilers #cecil gershwin palmer #dr janet lubelle #uowii #huntokar

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wolf-among-mechs · 5 months

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Unfortuantely can't send emojis for some reason so uh, for question things, red circle, red heart, and of course, yellow heart, wanna hear about your ride -@the-tired-merc

🔴 What factions (that you do not belong to) do you disrespect? Why?

The Draconis Combine has always been my archenemy. It is not a violent, burning hatred anymore but rather a quiet unending contempt. I was born into Wolf's Dragoons. I grew up on Hephaestus station. I got a bit... Seperated from them for a while due to... Steiner politics let us say. One day I simply heard on the news that Hephaestus station had been blown up over An Ting. There are no words in any human language that can truly express the rage I felt at that moment. The feeling that everyone I knew and cared about as a child had been killed in a single instant. The dragon was to blame I knew it. I swore a blood vengeance against the dragon and for every of their warrior I would take their blade as a trophy. A fate akin to being disowned of their mechs among their samurai once upon a time.

It would not quell my anger to merely say so. At night I would take my Black Knight and wander the nights on Yance I. With the old intact Star League era Beagle probe I was able to detect their lone mech patrols, with a burst of radio waves I disguised my sensor signature and struck mechs up close at the dead of night. Overwhelming them and quickly carving up their cockpits and taking their katanas from their pilots. Sometimes I had to kill them personally but that was more than fine enough for me. I even went hunting once with a sniper rifle in the woods. It came to a head when I proposed to melt down all the stolen swords into a weapon for the Black Knight. But my lance mates convinced me that if I did they would hunt me until the ends of the universe. I slowly started to simmer down and try to learn my enemy.

I am also not a fan of the clans but that is a lot more to do with the fact that they keep calling me freebirth dezgra when I punch their mechs... And also they could not stand to listen for one second to me about trying to fight a war in the inner sphere but that is a different story entirely. It is not a seething hatred though. Just... I do not like them.

♥️ Do you have a preference for ballistic, energy, missile, or other (e.g. melee/EMP/EW) weapons?

I generally prefer energy weapons. The PPCs for preference. Call it cliché if you want but I do enjoy casting manmade bolts of lightning from afar.

That is not to say I dislike other weapons. I do enjoy volleying enough missiles at a target to blot out the sun. The recoil of an autocannon firing is very satisfying and I do quite enjoy landing shots with a ballistic arcs... Well except the gauss rifle. It does not feel well with me. I know it is effective, I know it is good and the thought of accelerating a solid slug of metal to super sonic speeds by way of electromagnets should be a lot more fun than it feels. To me anyway.

I have had a had at working with electronic warfare systems such as ECMs and active probes. I think I find probes more useful in the end.

Where I truly shine though has always been that I use the mech as a weapon. Punch, kick, tackle and landing. You name it. Making the mechs move in such ways to make the entire world tremble from the impact is a true wonder. I remember one time in my early classes to prep for mech combat we were shown a slide of a Charger CGR-1A1. The other kids laughed but I simply looked and thought to myself, I can use that. After all. Most of the big guns on the field have better things to do than to hunt a lone Charger of all things.... That is until it is suddenly appears behind your fire support and punches open their cockpits.

💛What do I currently pilot. (OOC: It gets a little time fucky wucky here since Asuka here is part of an RPG campaign that hasn't gotten to the Clan Invasion yet. But this blog is an AU where she obviously got that far. Bear with me.)

I hate to say it but I am between mechs. I am waiting on a custom part for the refit of a Kodiak. So I do not have any fun stories to tell.

Let me tell you about my Black Knight instead. It was on Yance, a bit before the news as I told of earlier. The combine had uncovered a star league cache and found an intact black knight in there. Our mercenary company sent me to disable it and claim it for our own while the rest of my lance held off reinforcements. We fought for a while until I was able to gun it down and overheat and shut down. Losing the arm of my cataphract at the time. It was an all of nothing alpha strike which knocked over the black knight and render the pilot inside unconscious. After restarting the Cataphacts reactor I parked it ontop of the black knight and climbed in and took the pilot hostage.

It took two weeks to fix her up. I decided to add a few frills to it. Like red spotlights in the cockpit as to give it eyes in the dark. A bit of effect you know. A bit of showmanship a little fun. A bit of personality.... I may also have gotten fog machines and put them inside the collar of the black knight BUT ANYWAY. Me and it became known as the Oni of Yance after the annihilation of Hephaestus station from... Well you know. It came to the point that when we left Yance, shinto priests of towns and villages were putting up wards to scare away the Oni. The garrison was paranoid and barely dared to leave on patrols without large groups which also left many many blind spots in their patrols.

Shortly after that thanks to a friends contacts in the ISF we learned that my parents were being kept on a black site in combine space along with other members of the dragoons. We hired a dropship to take us there, putting outselves in debt hoping we would be able to pay back later, this was an opportunity too good to pass up after all.

It brought me back to where I first came. Back among Wolf's Dragoons. Our Mercenary company has practically been a subsidiary or sister company since. Through that I started upgrading and refitting the black knight. Eventually leading to the Black Knight BL-6XRD designated Slayer. Short for Dragon Slayer. It had a red mech sized sword in one hand though if I am going to be perfectly honest it was more of a slightly sharp club. It also had pulse lasers and a PPC. Oh actually I think I have have a recording of it.

youtube

(OOC: Please forgive the crumminess and scuff of it. It was probably my first time animating something. It felt like a good time to share.)

That came down to the wire let me tell you. She had her engine exposed and hit, lost most of her left torso and the left arm. It took her a while to put her back together but it was probably our finest moment.

I am not ashamed to admit that when we auctioned that mech off to charity. I cried myself to sleep that night. The Slayer had served me so well. It did not feel good to let her go. But time stops for no one I suppose. The funds for it went to good causes. I hope she got a retirement in a museum or something in the end. She deserved it more than I ever will. Damn it... I think it is beginning to rain over there now that I think about old Slayer... Oh yeah... It is raining all right.

Hey. Can I buy you a drink?

#battletech #mechwarrior

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aftermathfanfic · 7 months

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Monthly Update

So, Chapter 1 of Part 4 is about... halfway done, I think? I'll be honest, I've been working more on my original fantasy writing as of late, not so much on angsty ducks. I do intend to release something, it just might be a little later than anticipated.

To tide you over, however, here's a peek at the first part of Chapter 1. I have not run this by my beta reader, so this is Chapter 1 before editing. Enjoy!

Three Years Ago

“…Can you tell me what triggered your panic attack?” Asked Dr. Lake, his voice calm and measured.

“Like you couldn’t escape?” Lake suggested.

“…Yeah.”

Louie fell silent. He heard the doctor scribble something else down.

“…And what did your family do, when you had your attack?” Dr. Lake asked.

Louie shrugged. “Took me home. Huey calmed me down, he’s, uh… really good at doing that. And I just watched TV for the rest of the day.”

Louie looked into the cup, his tired reflection staring back at him.

“…I used to really like gold.” He murmured.

“Did you like it because it was valuable, or for what it represented?”

“Both. Kinda. Having gold meant that you were rich.”

“And what does it mean to you now?”

Louie shrugged again. “I don’t know.” He mumbled.

#ducktales aftermath #aftermath #ducktales 2017 #update #fanfiction #dt17 louie

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hannahhook7744 · 1 year

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Claudine Frollo Application revamped;

Trigger warnings; Child abuse, neglect, religious trauma, etc.

🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️🏴‍☠️

Name: Claudine Esther-Mary Frollo.

Known Aliases: The Mouse girl, the rat girl, the weird religious girl, the Belle girl, that weird Frollo girl, Crepe girl, Ms. Swabbie, She who does not make a sound, and Harriet's Swabbie.

Nicknames or Other: red, Mousey, the meek mouse, Classy, Leftie, the carrot top, Brainy, Dean, Essie, Einstein, Claudy, Dinny, Dina, Didi, Claw, Cherry, Bluey, Rosie, little Rose, Ruby, Brainiac, Beagle, mystery, Rusty, Scarlet, star girl, Spitfire, chatterbox, and Bookworm.

Do not ever call me angel or goddess.

Date of Birth or Best Guess: November 1st, eighteen to nineteen years ago.

Place of Birth: the isle of the lost on the second floor of Frollo's Creperie.

Favorite Color: Grey because it reminds me of my rat friend and it's neutral.

it also makes my father less angry and less likely to punish me—

Favorite Activity: can I put more than one? I've heard you can put more than one, so I'm going to do that. Sorry if it's wrong and impolite. I like baking, cooking, drawing, painting, listening to music, reading, doing experiments, oil painting, tie-dye, sewing, playing music, sailing, learning languages, learning, and reading/writing poetry.

Favorite School Subject; Home ec because it's one of the only classes I have other than my bible study classes. I'm home-schooled, so I don't know any other classes one would have.

Father's Name (or alias): Claude Frollo.

Mother's Name (or alias): I don't know. My father doesn't like to talk about her and made that very clear the one time I asked. I think she's dead.

Father's Profession: Owner of Frollo's Creperie.

Mother's Profession: She's dead so none.

Who is your favorite of the first wave of VKs? There is no wrong answer.

Evie, I guess. She seemed really nice and didn't treat me as if I was creepy like her friends did.

In your own words, tell us why you want to come to Auradon. There is no wrong answer.

There's no wrong answer? Then I'll be honest.

I want to come to Auradon because I can't stand living on the same island as my father. It might seem harsh but it's the truth and you wouldn't understand unless you were here.

Everyone knows how he treats me. Knows how he's trying to keep me dumb so I won't go exploring 'sinful' things that I have interest in like equal rights, science, art, and music. Knows that he works me halfway to death and punishes me harshly for everything—even things out of my control.

I am everything my father despises.

Red headed, female, left handed, feminist, etc. He hates everything about me and makes it clear every time he sees me.

I don't feel safe here. I fear for my life and the lives of those harboring me.

They may be stronger than me and him but he has more power than us.

More influence.

And that scares me. Please, you're all supposed to be good and sweet and kind and right. You're supposed to be heroes and save people. So, save me and the other kids of the isle.

Please. I'll be good.

I promise.

Please.

I'll do anything, just get me out of here before he kills me. I don't want to see hellfire. I don't want to go back to the closet or the flames. Please. Why did you let this happen? Why didn't you help us? What did we do wrong—

Signature:

Claudine Esther-Mary Frollo.

#disney descendants #descendants #melissa de la cruz #claudine descendants #descendants claudine #claudine frollo #disney descendants applications

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oli-draw · 8 months

Text

The Great adventures of Wally and his friends

Act One:

We will begin our story quite interesting and slightly exciting

This story tells about a guy named Wally, he was completely different from other people in that he was a muppet and he wasn't shy about it. He was very kind and generous, which allowed him to make many friends. A whole neighborhood just like him, cheerful, friendly and not like everyone else.Barnaby, Jilia, Frank, Eddie, Sally, Poppy and Howdy were different, but they were still passers-by. Wally didn't have any adventures in his life and the lives of his friends, but this moment changed their lives.

Wally was sleeping in his cabin and he dreamed of a very beautiful and interesting, but at the same time strange and frightening in the end:

In the beginning, he found himself in a clearing, grass and flowers were blowing around him, bees were buzzing and butterflies were flying. Wally was very surprised and at the same time happy. I had no time to lie down on the grass and enjoy watching the clouds, when a familiar voice came from nowhere. It was Julia's voice.

"Wally! Where are you?! We are all waiting for you!"

As soon as Wally heard her voice, he got up and followed the voice. As soon as he got to the tree where he was going to picnic with friends, hike or just lie down and listen to the singing of forest birds, he did not see his friends.

"It's weird..." the boy thought and heard a rather strange voice. It was as if the young lady was calling for his help. Wally quickly ran to where the voice was coming from, and when he got there, he saw a burning building and the voice was coming from there. Wally entered the burning buildings and started looking and when he got to the middle, he heard something crack and fell on him.

With a startled scream and a sweat, Wally woke up and realized that it was a terrible dream.

" Phew... Well, I'll dream about it," he said with relief, and a minute later his phone rang. He picked up the phone "Hello?"

"Wally?! Where have you been!"Frank 's voice came out of the phone and he was very angry "We 've been waiting for you for three hours !"

"What?!"Wally screamed in fright, he remembers that yesterday he set the alarm for 7:00, and now it's 9:47 a.m. "Oh, Loaf Butterflies!"

Putting the phone down so that he could hear and speak, Wally quickly jumped out of bed and began to pack.

"Wally, listen, you remember why we're all going, right?"Frank asked.

"Of course, we're going to the summer festival and also to visit Miss Beagle,"Wally shouted, washing up and putting his suitcases in the hallway. The house also woke up from the movement and all Wall's fuss, he began to slam shutters and doors.

"Oh! Good morning Home... "Wally said, "I'm busy right now."

" Wally, is that coming soon?" Frank asked with a sigh.

"Yes already!"Wally answered joyfully, taking the suitcase with things in his right hand and the suitcase with things in his left and kissing goodbye to the wall of the house, he left and headed for the others.

They were standing near the travel van, they were discussing something.

"Well, finally!"Sally spoke loudly and viciously, interrupting everyone "And I thought we'd be waiting for you forever!"

"Sally, will you stop acting like that!?"Howdy made a remark to her- It's not his fault that he accidentally overslept.

"Thanks for waiting"thanked Wally and gave his luggage to Eddie, who had already put everything in the trunk.

"well... Everything is almost ready," Eddie said.

"Yes, everyone" answered.

"Well, then, let's load up," he replied, and all the neighbors loaded into the van and set off.

But this story is not only about them, but also about other characters. Let's move to one place where this event will take place. In the building of the Valentino show circus, he was in his office with his secretary.

The walls of the office were a red wine shade, and the ceiling was black as a starless night. He was sitting in an armchair and glowering at the papers, then at the secretary, but at the girl sitting on the floor and wiping something like an ashtray. Valentino was dark blue and had an elegant jacket with trousers and a red tie with a bloody stripe. His hair was dark as darkness, his skin was pale, there was a bristly beard on his chin and two red eyes resembling the devil's fire on his face.

" No, no, and no again!- cried out loudly and throwing papers "This is no good!

"But.. sir..- the secretary said timidly " I gave you the best options..."

"This is too stupid and old-fashioned"!Valentino interrupted her, "We need something new!" Could you find a spy or someone else who could get some boring artists or animals for my show?

Upon hearing these suggestions, the girl who was cleaning the ashtray said:

"Can I find a good copy?"

Everyone looked at the girl with surprised eyes

"Oli, my dear," Valentino said affectionately - You can deliver a worthless thing to us"

"Don't worry Valentino!" Oli said, and put the ashtray on the dresser, ran out of the office-You can count on me!

When she reached her dressing room, she changed her gray T-shirt, shorts and white socks into a purple shirt, bluish-blue jeans and red sneakers.

" This is the best day I've ever lived in it!" She said and packed everything she needed for her assignment in a bag.

Meanwhile, Wally and his friends were on their way, chatting about the plan for that day when they were on a trip. Wally, Sally, Julia, Poppy and the others sat in the back of the van as Howdy drove the car.

"Oh, dear! "- Julia said joyfully, waiting for new impressions during the trip " I can't wait to see the new world"

"Yeah," Eddie replied, "We've been around so many roads, we'll tell you so much, won't we, Wally?"

Wally was silent, thinking about something, but when Eddie distracted him, he woke up

"Huh? "Wally asked and understood the question a little "Yes! I am very ready for this! I'm looking forward to meeting new cities, new horizons, new friends and I can assume this is the day... it's... um.."

Wally couldn't finish the sentence, as one word flew out of his head and now he can't find the right one

" Is it a beautiful day?"helped Barnaby's mind

" Yes! " happily answered Wally"he is! This is a Beautiful day!"

* Wally started singing a song*(Tim McMorris song)

Wally: The sun shines bright

As it moves across my face

I feel the light

And everything is in it’s place

I woke up feeling great

Today was made for me

And life is good, the way it should, the way it was meant to be

And it’s a beautiful day

It’s a beautiful day

Yay!

Oli: The wind is blowing, the bells are ringin’

Children playing in the park

While birds are singin’

And I’m walkin’, and I’m laughin’

Life is perfect, I’m not tryin’, it’s just happenin’

And it’s a beautiful day

It’s a beautiful day

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