#walt deville imagine
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voxmortuus · 1 year ago
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#17 & #29 for Walter Deville please? I figured you could use a break from Hannibal.
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✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Walter Deville x F!Reader ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ The Invitation ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 424 ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ From THIS prompt list: 17. "beg for it" & 29. "you're such a needy girl" ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Smut in Gazebo AKA Outside | Reader rides tip of dress shoe | Pet Name Used - Blood Doll | Calling Walt Master | Reader begging | Reader gets bitten | Blood Kink? | Unprotected P-i-V | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ YOU'RE LUCKY I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE LIMITS ARE AND WHAT YOU LIKE! I will literally write for any character you send me prompts for; I love branching out! So, I guess that makes me a whore for prompts.... ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @ariesrain ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist *̥˚✧
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As Walter looks down on you, watching you be this horny needy little blood doll of his, he can't help but chuckle. Watching you whimper and moan as you grind yourself against the tip of his shoe as you wrap your arms around his leg. Wet, fuckin soaking wet and needy for him you look up at him and bite your lip.
"I'm so wet… so needy…" You whimper. "I need you, Master." You whimper.
"Do you now, Blood Doll?" He asks with a slight arch of his brow.
"Oh, yes Master, I really… really need you. I need you to fill me. I need you to feed on me." You whimpered as you graze your bud against his shoe.
With a soft chuckle, he takes your chin and forces you to look at him. "Beg for it." He states.
Biting your lip you look over his face, your hands sliding up his hips, over the front of his pants pawing at him.
"Please, Master… Please. I need you, so badly, I need you to fuck me, I need you to feed on me. I need your guidance. Please… Please Master." you beg.
"Aww, look at you. Stand up." He demands.
Standing up you look over his face, biting your lip you let out a soft whimper as you press yourself against him. He reaches his hand between your legs and feels how soaking wet you are.
"Now what do we have here my sweet little Blood Doll? Are we soaked?" He asked.
"Yes, Master, that's how badly I need you." You state nodding.
"Well now… I'm sure that can be arranged." He chuckles with that charming smile of his.
Turning you around he makes you face the outside yard as he places your hands on the railing of the gazebo. As he feels himself stiffen from your arousal he groans and slips his hardened member between your folds and groans.
"You're such a needy girl." He groans softly.
"I'm always needy for you master." You moan softly as you grip the railing and let out another soft moan.
As he kisses your bare shoulder he moves the crook of your neck and sinks his fangs right in. You let out a slightly louder moan and grip the railing tightly. Looking down you see the blood from the bite drip down your chest, you bring a hand up and wipe it across your chest, smearing it into the skin as you let out another moan.
"Oh Master… you're too good to me." You whimper.
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bi-bard · 2 years ago
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Roses - Walt De Ville Imagine [The Invitation]
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Title: Roses
Pairing: Walt De Ville X Reader
Word Count: 3,110 words
Warning(s): kidnapping, brief mention of blood
Summary: (Y/n) begins to find roses sitting on their doorstep. When their given the opportunity to meet the man behind the small gifts, they immediately accept. Maybe they should have offered the idea more thought before making such a quick decision.
Author's Note: I have thought about this idea for weeks. I just wasn't sure how I wanted it to end.
Also, this got so out of hand.
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When the first rose appeared on my doorstep, I assumed it was some weird kind of accident.
A mistaken delivery or something of that nature.
It was a lovely rose.
I even grabbed it and placed it in a little cup of water before I headed out for the day.
I shrugged, smiled at it, and went about my business.
And then, there was another rose the next day. I was heading to work, and I stepped out to find another flower.
I furrowed my eyebrows and grabbed it.
Once was easy enough to write off. Twice was harder to explain away.
Still, I placed the flower in the cup and went to work.
This pattern kept going. I would find a flower on my doorstep, I would place it in my small cup, and then I would move on with my day. I would usually try to come up with some reason for this all happening, but it was becoming more difficult as time went on.
It all came to a head on my day off a few days later.
I had decided to take most of the day to clean. A nice and normal task.
In all honesty, I found little joy in cleaning. I knew it was necessary for my safety and well-being, but I would give anything to just snap my fingers and have the entire thing done. Even with music blasting in my headphones, I had trouble finding an ounce of the task enjoyable.
I thought that I could find much better ways to spend my time.
But still, it needed to be done, so I was going to do it.
At the time, I was going to take out the trash.
I pulled the door open but didn't get much further.
"Oh, what the fuck is this?"
I froze in my doorway and stared at the huge bouquet of roses. It was even in a vase already. All of this commitment from a person that I had yet to even see, never mind meet.
It felt like an eternity before the shock finally wore off.
"Oh, that is just... obnoxiously dramatic," I muttered.
I picked up the vase and went back inside.
As I placed it on the table, a note caught my eye.
I was stunned. A note. After all this time and secrecy, the mysterious admirer left a note. It felt like a trick.
It wasn't a long note, by any means.
You have been invited to join Walter De Ville for dinner at his estate tomorrow night. If you are to accept, you will have transportation provided to you. They will arrive at five p.m.
"Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding," I mumbled. "This can't... This can't be real. 'At his estate,' who says shit like that anymore?"
The only good thing that came out of it at the time was a name.
Walter De Ville.
It sounded like a name of old money. Dipped in oil, coated in coal from the mines. An old man sneering from behind his cigar that made the entire house stink, but he would be damned if he had to smoke on the patio. That kind of name.
I never thought that I would be one to allow my curiosity to cloud my better judgment. But here I was, getting ready to meet whatever transportation was meant to pick me up and bring me to the De Ville estate.
I stood outside at about four-fifty. I watched cars roll by for a while before one finally stopped in front of my home.
"(Y/n) (Y/l/n)," an older man called from the sidewalk.
My heart froze. That couldn't be Walter. Could it?
"Yeah," I called back, slowly walking forward. The man pulled the door to the backseat open.
"Mr. De Ville is anxiously awaiting your arrival."
I nodded. "Thank you."
I sat in the seat and buckled my seatbelt. The older man sat in the back next to me as the driver took off.
It took me a moment to speak up again, "What's your name?"
"Everyone calls me Mr. Fields," he explained. "I have worked for the De Ville family for many years."
"Oh," I replied. "May I ask what Mr. De Ville wants with me?"
"He has seemingly become intrigued by you," he said. "I would explain his feelings if I could."
I nodded again.
I watched the scenery pass by us. I made some comment about the trees being lovely. Mr. Fields didn't respond to it. I fell into an uneasy silence after that.
It was a beautiful house. A mansion. There were intricate details along the walls. Stone walls that looked like they were attempting to reach into the sky. It was breathtaking.
What would someone from a place like this want with me?
How would they even know about me? This place was in the middle of nowhere.
I only had a few moments to admire the outside of the mansion before I was ushered inside.
"Mr. De Ville is waiting in the dining room," Mr. Fields explained.
I nodded and followed him there.
The walls were a dark red while the table and chairs were a dark wood. I was immediately overwhelmed by the grandiosity of it all.
"(Y/n)."
I looked at the other person in the room. A man, around my age, stood from his seat and stepped over. There was a sickeningly charming smile on his face. He reached out his hand.
"Walter," I greeted.
"Walt," he corrected.
"Right... well, it's a pleasure to meet you," I said, going to shake his hand.
He pulled my hand up and pressed a kiss to the back of it. I took a deep breath as some kind of instinctual response.
"The pleasure is all mine," he replied. He stepped back and walked to the table, pulling out a chair. "Please, sit."
I nodded and walked to the seat, letting him push the chair in for me.
"I feel a need to apologize for how long it took me to invite you here," he continued as someone came in to pour us each a glass of wine.
"I wasn't expecting an invitation in the first place," I explained. "The roses gave the impression of a secret admirer, so I didn't truly expect to know who you were."
"I am sorry for being so secretive. I believed that it would be a way to flatter you."
I nodded.
"I can't quite explain it, but I found you... entrancing. You captured my attention immediately. I have been infatuated with you."
"Oh," I muttered. I had never truly had someone talk about me like that. I was not the one that people got crushes on. I had grown used to that.
"I hope that I haven't made you too nervous."
I shook my head. "No, no. Not at all."
"Not at all," he asked, raising an eyebrow at me with a smirk.
"That wasn't as nice as I wanted it to be," I chuckled, shaking my head. "I meant that you're not making me uncomfortable."
"Good," he nodded.
Just as he said that two more people bustled in with plates. I stared down at the dish set in front of me. It looked like a dish on a cooking show. Too fancy to be eaten. What kind of monster would I be if I ruined the equivalent of a piece of art?
"Please, enjoy, I ensured that the best would be made," Walt pushed.
I slowly nodded, reaching for my utensils.
I wish that I had looked a little closer. If I had, then I would have noticed that Walt didn't partake in the dinner. He made it appear like he did. He carefully pushed his food along the plate. It must have been a convincing enough performance for me to never ask about it.
"Tell me about yourself," Walt said after a moment.
I paused for a moment. "After the flowers that you sent, I assumed you knew everything there was to know."
"Nothing like hearing it from the source," he replied. "Please."
"What do you want to know?"
"What do you spend your time doing?"
"Well, I'm usually working," I shrugged. "Just a boring little job. It's only meant to pay the bills. But I have met very good people there."
Walt's eyes stayed trained on me as I spoke. To be certain that I didn't get overwhelmed by the intensity just below the surface, I had to switch between looking back at him and looking at the plate in front of me.
"When I'm not doing that, I'm usually making art of some form," I continued. "An old love. Very calming."
"You don't wish to pursue it as a career?"
"I would love to," I corrected. "But, as of right now, I will settle for stress relief."
"Well, I like to see myself as having a great appreciation for the arts," he explained. "I hope that one day I'll get to see your work."
"I would like that."
How had one person made me feel so comfortable in such a short amount of time?
The dinner was full of conversation just like that. Small talk about hobbies and interests and small habits. Most of it was about me. Not because I didn't ask, but because he seemed very good at steering the conversation in any direction away from him. He didn't seem interested in telling me much about himself.
Once dinner had come and gone, Walt stood from his seat and held out his hand.
"I understand that it has been a long evening already, but I would like to give you a tour of the estate if you're interested," he offered.
I grinned and placed my hand in his, letting him help me up. "Lead the way."
His hand left mine as we walked out of the dining room.
He told me some of the history and about the artwork. It was the closest that Walt had gotten to talking about himself.
He led me through rooms and hallways, telling me all about how much he adored each room. Like each one held a place in his heart like a family member or loved one would.
He froze outside of a room upstairs.
There was a pair of dark doors with golden doorknobs. He placed his hands over one of them, pausing to look at me with this small, knowing smirk. He knew very well that whatever was behind that door was going to take my breath away.
"You mentioned a love for art," Walt said. I nodded. "You will feel very at home here."
He opened the door and held it open for me. I barely noticed it closing behind me when I saw the room.
"Wow," I mumbled.
It was perfectly messy. Canvases and paints. I could see all mediums of art. It was all so distracting and amazing. The walls themselves were a dark green. They matched the dark wood floors and furniture. The windows along the far wall were tall. There were bars over them, but there was still enough room to allow sunlight to cascade through. At least, that's what I imagined would happen if it were still light outside.
"This is beautiful," I looked over at Walt, who was simply grinning at me.
"I would hope so," he nodded. Like he had been waiting for my reaction. I shook off that thought.
"Is it all yours," I asked. "I know you mentioned an appreciation for the arts, but you didn't mention making any?"
"Oh, if only," he chuckled. "Sadly, I am only an artistic genius when considering stick figures."
That made me furrow my eyebrows as I laughed lightly. Why would he have this room then?
"I did try, but nothing ever clicked."
"Oh," I mumbled.
"Maybe you could teach me," he suggested.
"Trying to tempt me into another visit, Walt," I asked.
A smirk pulled at his lips. "Is that what I'm doing?"
I scoffed.
"Would you?"
"I could be convinced," I replied.
There was a pause in our conversation. Walt took the moment to clear some of the distance between us.
I couldn't help the nervous laugh that escaped me as he stepped closer. I looked down as his hand brushed mine. He wrapped his fingers around my hand. I looked back at him, trying to calm my breathing a bit.
"I do make you nervous," Walt teased me.
"Any person is more intimidating when they get closer to someone else," I explained, ignoring my racing heart.
"Oh, of course," he nodded. "How foolish of me to assume anything more than that."
"You truly should get better at examining things from all angles. It will help you with your art."
His smirk widened for a moment before he let his eyes scan down my body. "How tempting that idea is."
I scoffed at the boldness of his statement.
He chuckled a bit as his eyes met mine again.
He slowly leaned forward. I felt a chill run up my spine as his breath brushed over the surface of my skin.
He froze just before his lips could meet mine. "Can I kiss you?"
I took a deep breath through my nose. "Yes."
When he kissed me, I felt time stop. My skin was covered in goosebumps. My mind was racing at the same speed as my heart. I had never experienced a kiss that felt quite like this one. I had never had a kiss make me feel so desirable. I adored that feeling.
I tried to savor that feeling for as long as possible.
However, my enjoyment came to an abrupt end when I felt something sharp dig into the skin of my wrist.
I hissed as I pulled away and looked down.
I let out something similar to a yelp when I saw that it was Walt's nails, now long and sharp and dark. Claws. That was the best word for them.
"Oh dear," he whispered. "Seems like you made me lose control of myself."
He let go of my arm just as I pulled it away from him.
I held it close to my body, staring at him in shock.
"I am so sorry, my love," he continued. "I will not let such an accident happen again."
"Listen," I said. "I... I don't know what this is, but I have no interest in being any part of it."
I walked away from him, going toward the door. Mr. Fields walked in just as I did. I felt a wave of hope at the sight of his grumpy face.
"Please, take me home-"
My words trailed off as he turned and locked the doors.
"What are you doing?"
He didn't answer me.
"I want to go home-"
I tried to push past him, but I was grabbed and shoved back roughly. I stumbled a bit, finding myself closer to Walt than I desired to be. I moved backward, getting as close to the far wall as I could.
"No need to be scared," Walt said.
"The claw marks on my arm and the locked door beg to differ," I snapped.
He shook his head and chuckled. "As witty as they are gorgeous, aren't they, Mr. Fields?"
Mr. Fields merely nodded in agreement.
"Let me go home," I ignored the comment. "I... I won't tell anyone about this. I promise. Just let me go and you'll never see or hear from me ever again. You can live in peace-"
Walt started to shush me as I rambled. "Why would I never want to see you again?"
My words died on my tongue.
"Do you think that I plan to kill you," he asked. "No, no, no, my love..."
I furrowed my eyebrows.
"I plan to make this your home," he explained. "You are going to stay with me. Forever."
"I just met you."
"And yet, I've known you for so long," he replied. "I have given this considerable thought. I want you here. With me. To love and take care of. Imagine it... a life with none of those things that could weigh so heavily on your mind."
I stepped further back when he tried to step closer to me.
"You'll be very happy here, I promise."
"You don't believe that I would genuinely just stay put because you want me to, do you?"
"I would hate to have to find a way to restrain you, but I will if need be."
I ran my hands over my face.
"This is your home now. With me. I would accept that now and make it easier on everyone."
"What about work," I asked, trying to ignore how much my hands were shaking. "And my family? I have co-workers, I have siblings. Someone will wonder where I am. What will you do then?"
"A letter of resignation has already found its way to your boss's desk," Walt explained. "And you'll get to see your family. I'm not a monster."
"Do you want to re-think that sentence?"
An amused huff escaped him. "Oh, my love, I can be a monster if it's required, but I would rather not entertain that side of myself if I don't need to."
I felt that sickening feeling in my stomach only getting worse.
"All I ask is that you behave yourself," he continued. "After a while, I would be delighted to invite your family. To show them the beautiful life that you live with me."
He walked closer to me. I didn't move away from him this time. I knew that I had no hope of escaping him. I wasn't giving up hope. I was trying to play my cards right.
His hand reached up and cupped the side of my face. That charming smile that enchanted me earlier that evening now made my heart sink.
"Why me," I asked, voice no more than a whisper. It had been on my mind all night, but now, it felt like essential knowledge.
"My love, is it not obvious to you?"
I bit my lip to stop my tears from falling.
"No need to worry," he mumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to my cheek. I flinched when his lips found my skin. "I will ensure that you eventually see exactly what I do."
I took a shaky breath.
"I think we should retire for the evening," he said. He guided me away from the wall and to the door. A kiss was laid on my shoulder as he did. "You will be so happy here, my love."
I feared for the day that could possibly be true.
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princessbettina · 2 years ago
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Tulips 🌷Walter Deville x Fem!Reader-The Invitation
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Summary: You go about your day each week, doing the things in which you enjoy (garden work outside in the garden you own in the cottage house you have) and even taking care of the mini farm in which you have that’s located across your cottage home) when one day, he sees you from a little bit away, he can’t take his eyes off you, that’s when he becomes your new secret admirer. He (aka Walter Deville) starts leaving little gifts for you in your garden that you take note of and one day, the time you and Walter meet brings a few surprises that you certainly didn’t expect in your life.
(A/N: This was originally going to be writen as a Female OC character paired with Walter story, but I changed my mind and thought writing it as y/n reader paired with Walter looked better. Y/N is the main female lead in this.
Also, there's a lot of use of the words "darling" and "my love" included in this. Mini warning as it gets a little intense towards the middle, but nothing spicy or violent happens.
This is similar to @bi-bard 's work on here. After reading her's, I got inspired to write my own version, or something similar. I love the one she wrote!
By no means, is this a remake or copy of her's. The one I wrote is inspired by the one she wrote.
I aplogize if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes in this.
I hope you all enjoy <3)
🌷
It was always bright and sunny. No rain or cloud ever filled the sky, and when it did it was still peaceful to say the least. Each day of every week was pretty much the same. I would go to school, theatre school that is, then to work, and finally back home to my lovely cottage home. With everyday being beautiful outdoors, I took the opportunity to continue my garden work, which I became very passionate about.
My garden was filled with mainly flowers. From sunflowers to roses that perfectly lined up in a delicate row as one all around the garden.
A few steps away from my garden was my mini farm that did in fact have a couple animals living in it. A golden baby chick that was always waddling around, one pretty pink piglet, and a goose with fur white as snow.
Those animals were almost like my children. I adored taking care of them. That is exactly what I did every day when I came home from a busy day out each week.
🌷
It was a new week when I had come back home from being at school and then work. I stepped outside to water the flowers in the garden when I began to feel as though I was being watched.
“I’m feeling someone’s presence, but there’s literally no one around me” I thought to myself, furrowing my eyebrows as I quickly glanced all around and behind me and even straight ahead, outside the wooden gate that separated my home from the other half, that lead to the hills and empty fields that lead to more beautiful emptiness in the cottage atmosphere in which I was in.
Not thinking much of it, I shook it off, shaking my head briefly and then returned to my garden work and then headed over to my farm to greet my lovely animal friends.
Unbeknownst to me, as I was walking to the farm, that’s when the same presence recurred again. A little ways away from the farm and my house, there he was. Kneeling down and hiding behind a tree that was next to the cobblestone filled pathway that anyone could walk on, passing through the neighborhood.
He studied my every move from when I glided out of my garden and over to my farm and then walked into it. I had no clue there was a person there.
The person who hid behind the tree liked what he was seeing and wanted to get to know me, but he didn’t exactly know how to make the move and strike up a conversation with me. A sudden idea came to his mind and quickly disappeared to wherever he lived, knowing just what to do to get my attention, hopefully.
🌷
The next day rolled around and as soon as I got home and into my garden, I noticed something that wasn’t there before. Moving closer to it, I raised my eyebrow from curiosity when I saw a small golden key that looked like it could open a door, with a few tulips attached to it. I gently picked up the key and tulips and examined it for a few minutes in my hands.
“Why is there a key with tulips attached to it? This is difficult to understand" I asked myself.
Shrugging it off again, I walked back inside to my cottage home where I gently unwrapped the tulips from the key and placed them in a vase filled with water, letting them grow and show off their beauty in the inside of my home.
"Wow, that actually is really pretty." I thought to myself as I examined the tulips in the vase that was sitting atop my dining room table.
The day was finished and soon another began. I opened my door and glanced down and saw a small pile of tulips waiting for me to take them in.
I widened my eyes and covered my mouth with my hand as I quickly knelt down to pick up the flowers.
"What is happening here? This is starting to become creepy." I whispered to myself as I glanced down at the flowers quickly before looking around to see if someone nearby would confess that they sent the flowers.
No one was around. Great!
Quickly, I put the new set of flowers in the same vase with the first three and then headed to school and work for the day.
"It could be a quick mistake that the mailman made. Mix Ups in delivery are a common mistake that are easily fixable. Yes! That's gotta be it" I thought to myself while being at school.
This mysterious tulip situation was all that I could think about and focus on.
Nothing else. This was becoming an overwhelming distraction that I needed to stop thinking about.
I had to either find out who's behind this or put an end to it soon.
Hopefully the mysterious person would confess sooner rather than later.
🌷
It was when I got home for the night when I noticed yet another thing that caught my eye right on the steps of my home.
Reaching my front steps, I knelt down and picked up this letter and with it were more tulips. Of course.
Furrowing my eyebrows in slight confusion as I began to read and try to understand the letter in which it read the following, "Greetings Y/N, you are cordially invited to the New Carfax Abbey manor to meet Walter Deville, the lord of the manor. He has taken an interest in meeting you. If you accept, the meeting is scheduled for tomorrow. Transportation will be provided. Best wishes.
P.s. bring the gold key"
I shook my head in slight disbelief. How was all of this happening so fast? I felt a sudden thrill because I knew I would soon find out and meet the one who sent the tulips. Whoever this Walter person is.
I couldn't help but giggle when the letter mentioned bringing the key, "I was wondering what the key was about."
I went inside and then proceeded to do my fun hobbies outdoors and took care of my animal friends.
🌷
The day in which I had been waiting for had arrived. I looked out my window, pacing back and forth, kind of impatiently as I waited for my source of transportation. Whatever vehicle it would be.
Holding the gold key in my hands, a sudden knock on my front door was heard. I gasped softly and quickly scurried to the door and opened it and saw an older man standing a few feet away from my door.
"Are you miss Y/N, L/N?" The older man asked in a neutral, calm tone of voice and emotion.
"Yes, that is me, in the flesh. Are you Walter Deville?" I questioned quickly as the older man shook his head briefly.
"No. I'm the butler of the manor. You can call me Mr. Field. I've worked with Walter for many years." Mr. Field introduced briefly.
I nodded slightly.
"Come along now. Walter is expecting your arrival and wouldn't want to keep him waiting too much longer." Waved Mr.Field as he turned around and walked back to the black old fashioned Cadillac.
I quickly locked up my home and then followed suit to the car, thanking Mr. Field as he held open the car door for me as I got in.
Moments later, the drive to the manor began. My eyes loved and enjoyed the outdoor sights as we got closer to the manor. My heart beamed with excitement as we passed a few flower gardens that stood out in the green grassy open fields.
I got so wrapped up in the excitement of the flowers that I didn't realize we had arrived at the manor. Mr. Field helped escort me out of the car and seconds later, I found myself in awe while looking up at the manor that I stood before.
"Wow. This place is incredible" I whispered to myself, while admiring its beauty and mysteriousness for as much as I could before my thoughts of admiration were interrupted.
"Miss Y/N, I introduce to you the lord of the manor, Walter Deville." Announced Mr. Field as he motioned an arm to the man who walked down the steps and over to me with smooth, delicate, and quick steps who just so happened to be Walter Deville himself.
Walter was definitely not who I expected, but it was a pleasant surprise to say the least. "Thank you, Mr. Field for the introduction. I'll take it from here." Walter kindly said to Mr. Field as he quickly nodded his head and bowed and scurried away, leaving it to just be Walter and I.
"You must be Y/N? It's an honor to finally meet you" Said Walter as he smiled brightly. I smiled back, trying not to blush.
"That's me. It's nice to meet you too, Walter"
"Oh, please you can call me Walt, dear" Walt winked and smiled more. I widened my eyes and nodded. "Oh, why of course. It's nice to meet you, Walt"
Him and I smiled at each other for a few seconds more, the blush and heat growing on my face more and more. Walt then held out his arm and motioned for me to take his arm in mine, "Come along, dear. I think it's appropriate to show you a tour of the manor. I think you'll love it"
I smiled and wrapped my arm into his and followed his lead as we made it into the manor. The manor was even more breathtaking on the inside as well on the outside. Classic works of art or paintings that looked like art were displayed perfectly all throughout the manor.
Followed by this was a large beautiful cobblestone grand staircase that I found myself barely having time to really admire as I found Walt guiding me up the staircase and through a pathway that led to different rooms.
Walt showed me every room possible, from the kitchen to the grand library, which I thought was incredible.
As we were walking through the large open hallways, Walt glanced down at me and smiled softly, "I would be honored if you told me about yourself."
Glancing up at him, I smiled too and then gently shook my head, leaning it forward just a bit, "Oh okay. Uhmm, what would you like to know?"
"Anything. What do you enjoy doing for fun? Hobbies of any sort?" Walt replied, wiggling his eyebrows slightly as he continued to look at me.
I giggled and blushed, looking away from him briefly to relax my face. "Well, I enjoy performing, you know acting in plays, becoming characters that you normally would never be in reality." I firstly mentioned, looking back over at Walt as he remained quiet but was eager for me to continue talking.
"I guess I've always had a strong passion for performing ever since I was younger and being in my first play in school, Really helped set that goal for me. I should also mention that being outdoors, gardening in particular. I've always enjoyed planting flowers ever since I was child. It's another passion of mine if you will" I smiled more as I finished my long answer about myself.
Walt smiled as he nodded his head, showing me that he was listening. "Lovely answers, darling. It's refreshing to see those passions within you. Speaking of gardens, if you look out this window you'll see the manor garden out there. Please feel free to use it any time you wish."
My smile grew and grew as the excitement in me increased. I was becoming more and more speechless.
"I can assure you that there are plenty of tulips in the garden waiting for you, darling" Said Walt, with another charming wink my way.
I widened my eyes and gasped softly after putting the pieces of the days and even weeks before together. With the mysterious gold key to the tulips always showing up at my house.
Walt was the one who sent them.
"H-how did you know? Wait, you were the one who sent them? You sent the tulips, didn't you?" I asked, raising my eyebrow slightly.
Walt chuckled once more and nodded, "You are absolutely right, darling. I did send you those things."
"I honestly never would have guessed. But why did you send them, Walt?" I asked softly as I gently crossed my arms in a neutral way, staring back at Walt.
"I happened to be in your neighborhood and let's just say that you caught my eye but I didn't know how to talk to you before that, so sending the tulips was my way of communicating. I knew you'd like them. Any flower really. You can say that I was your secret admirer" Said Walt, smiling even more brightly than before.
How was any of the things I'm hearing coming out of his mouth possible? My mind couldn't comprehend the fact that I did in fact have a first secret admirer. Growing up, that was something I struggled with not having. I wasn't the type that people crushed on or liked me back if I felt that way towards them.
Learning to accept that fact was indeed a hard pill to swallow, but over time, I got used to it. Knowing that Walt (maybe) had a crush on me, sent shock waves all through my body of adrenaline.
🌷
On the next (last) stop in our tour, I found myself raising my eyebrow in slight confusion as Walt and I stood in front of a door in which I had no clue as to what was behind it.
Walt turned around and glanced at me for a second, taking both my hands into his, "May I have the key please, darling?" He kindly asked while pursing his lips slightly that fell into a smirk.
Getting lost in his beautiful and mysterious expressions and features, I nodded quickly while stumbling out for words. I removed one of my hands from his briefly to retrieve the key that was in my pocket.
After handing it to him, he let go of my hand to turn and face the door as he inserted the key into the door in which it just so happened to unlock the room.
Brilliant.
Walt quickly glanced at me once more while unlocking the door, smirking that instantly caused me to blush. I giggled and my eyes fell to the ground for a moment, then back up when Walt held the door open for me, leading me inside.
The room was pitch black for a few moments, which caused me to furrow my eyebrows and my heart rate to increase slightly because I could'nt see a thing, that's how dark it was, "What is this place, Walt?" I asked out loud, hoping Walt would respond.
"You'll see, darling." Walt replied with a small giggle. A faint whooshing noise was heard and suddenly there was light in the entire room which revealed what the room was.
Seeing the audience chairs and large stage took my breath away. I knew exactly where we were, what this room was as I instantly loved it. I couldn't help but smile.
"Do you like it?" Walt asked softly, smiling at me. I quickly nodded and continued to smile back at him.
"Yes. Yes I do. It's magnificent. You have an auditorium fit for performers like me and fit for hosting performances in your mansion"
Walt chuckled at my reaction, "I had a strong feeling you might be pleased with it. You are always more than welcome to use it anytime, darling"
I smiled at the sound of that. A silence was heard for a few brief moments, until I heard Walt begin to speak again.
"What drew you to performing?"
I looked up at him and smiled, as my mind raced quickly to think of an answer that wouldn't sound boring or repetitive to him. "Oh uhmm, I guess ever since being in grade school and taking the drama classes there and being in the drama club really sparked my interest. Being on that stage alongside my friends as we pretended to be characters that we're usually not was a lot of fun for me." I said softly while smiling, my heart began to race, hoping that I didn't say too much to Walt.
He smiled and nodded his head while still looking at me, "Good answer. I think it brought a lot of happiness to your friends that you feel that way."
I nodded too while chuckling. "You're too kind. I really appreciate that, Walt."
"This auditorium, along with the garden is yours, darling. Everything in the manor here is yours. I hope I'll someday get to see you perform." Stated Walt as he playfully smirked again, causing me to blush uncontrollably.
"Perhaps you could even teach me how to perform." Walt suggested, which made me furrow my eyebrows in a playful way as a giggle escaped my lips.
"You really want acting lessons from me? I mean, I could give it a try,but I'm not an acting coach" I giggled playfully while clasping my hands together while looking at Walt.
"You and I just met, taking lessons from a complete stranger isn't ideal. Besides I don't think I'm very good at performing anyway" I admitted, slowly turning my head away from him for a second.
Walt shook his head in disagreement, "I don't think that's true. Give it time, I'm sure you'll feel like you and I have known each other a lot longer. You shouldn't doubt yourself on something you're passionate about. Please for me?" Walt said with softness in his voice.
I turned back to face him and blushed after hearing everything he just told me. I had no idea what to say. I glanced down at the floor for a moment, then back at Walt.
"I think that can be arranged, Walt. But I am curious though, why do you have this beautifully built performing auditorium if you don't use it?" I asked curiously. Walt pursed his lips playfully again.
"If you can believe this, when I was child, I too was a big fan of the arts. That goes for all art forms like painting, pottery, musical, and theatre. There was one instance where I found myself standing on a stage alone like this one here," Walt motioned over to the stage that was a few steps away from us.
"There was no crowd but seeing the empty chairs and imagining what an actual crowd of people would be like for me made me fascinated in that art form. Unfortunately, I knew I wasn't good at performing, my skills weren't there. I know yours are though, that's why I want you to teach me, darling" Said Walt, as he gently grabbed hold of my hands and led me to the middle of the stage, where he and I leaned against, standing next to one another.
Hearing everything that Walt said made my heart flutter. I think I was starting to fall more for Walt. I hope he will be there to catch me when I make my final leap.
"All of what you said is extremely heartwarming, Walt. I want to teach you, but we still literally met today. Wouldn't you want to get to know me for a bit longer? You know, for a few more days at least?" I asked while fiddling with my fingers as Walt chuckled softly.
"Within these few hours of spending with you has made me already feel like we both know each other. Can't you feel the connection, darling?" He asked in a soft tone while slowly leaning towards me.
I could start to feel my face start to burn from blush when he got closer to me. All I could do was nod my head, my mind was spinning. What was Walt doing? Was what I thought going to happen next?
"Y-yes I think I'm starting to feel it, Walt. I think I've come to the conclusion that you're really great." I smiled as my eyes glanced down at the ground for a second. My eyes picked back up when I felt Walt's hands gently on top of my cheeks, causing me to blush once more.
"I also think you're really great too, darling." Walt softly replied as his hands gently caressed my face, his thumb gently rubbed against one part of my face, causing my heart to beat extremely fast.
Walt kept leaning forward, the tips of our noses touched as his lips were centimeters away from mine. "May I kiss you, darling?" He asked softly. I nodded my head and felt my heart want to leap out of my chest.
"Yes" I quickly whispered. Walt closed his eyes and gently pressed his lips to mine, kissing me which I had never ever experienced before. I wanted this magical feeling to last for as long as possible. This wasn't what I expected to feel as my first kiss, but it was one that I was head over heels for, instantly loving it, trying to hold onto the feeling forever.
As the kiss deepened, Walt had gently rested his hand atop of my arm when I felt what felt like him poking and pinching my arm and the skin around it. I gently pulled away from the kiss and gasped softly after feeling the pinching.
"Hey? What was that for?" I hissed while grabbing hold of my upper arm and then furrowed my eyebrows up at Walt.
"I am so sorry, my love. I didn't mean to do that on purpose. I guess I got too ahead of myself there." He admitted with a slight chuckle. His hands were holding mine briefly.
Taking one of his hands, I lifted it up and examined it as my eyes widened when I saw and studied these bright red monster-like claws that took over his human fingernails. What was going on here?
I furrowed my eyebrows once more up at Walt as I still held his hand, "W-what are these, Walt?"
Walt took a deep breath as he looked straight into my eyes, "Now, my love please believe me when I say it's nothing to worry about. Not even to be afraid of either. I can reassure you that I will never use them to hurt you in any way." His hand is still holding mine.
I tried slowly backing out of his grasp but he didn't budge. Acknowledging my attempt to escape, Walt remained calm as his thumb rubbed against the top of my wrist, hoping that would calm me down.
Of course it did.
🌷
I would have fought more but I had no idea what Walt was capable of and I really didn't want to get on his bad side. Taking a few deep breaths as I relaxed in his touch. My mind began to spin again. I had no idea what to think of it all.
My body was filling up with both fear and adrenaline, like heavy waves of water crashing along the shore rapidly.
"Are you afraid, my love?" Walt asked quietly. I glanced up at him while shaking my head, "I'm not afraid. Of course not."
Walt gently let go of my hand, which allowed me to pull back and hold on it with my other hand, near my chest.
"Y/n" Walt began with a calm but stern tone while walking to the other side of me and the stage.
"I can sense a little bit of fear in you. You don't have anything to fear, I am not going to hurt you. You are going to be just fine with me, under my protection, darling."
There was a slight pause, I was still trying to understand it all. Nothing was ringing any familiar bell in my brain. Walt and I locked eyes with one another, "What are you?" I asked in a soft whisper.
Walt leaned towards me for a moment while smirking, and that's when I could feel the heat grow on my face just a little bit again, the same as before the secrets were revealed.
"Why don't I just show you,darling." Walt quickly replied and smirked a little bit more for a moment, which then turned into him opening his mouth, revealing and showing his two pointed and sharp vampire fangs.
The heat on my face grew when my eyes saw his fangs. I covered my mouth with my hand for a brief moment.
"Y-you're a vampire?" I asked in a soft tone. Walt smirked again while closing his mouth and nodded.
My whole life I've always been fascinated with the concept of vampires. But that was always in stories and films. I was told that vampires don't exist.
Man, was I wrong! But I think it's horrifyingly cool in reality.
🌷
"My love, you're a part of the family now. I strongly believe that one day, very soon, you'll be a vampire like me, too." Asserted Walt as he gently held my hands once more. I widened my eyes and was taken back by the powerful statement he said.
"I'm sorry what? Me, be a vampire like you?" I questioned, furrowing my eyebrows up at Walt as he simply nodded at me once more.
I shook my head in disapproval, "I think this is all amazing and breathtaking, Walt but I don't think I have what it takes to be a vampire. I'm so sorry." I pulled my hands away from him and began to walk towards the auditorium doors. Walt stood where he was, watching me walk away with slight worry in his eyes.
I only made it inches away from fully exiting when I was stopped right in front of Mr. Field. "Oh, hi again Mr. Field. Would it be alright if you took me home now?" I asked, hoping he would follow through.
Mr. Field shook his head, "Apologizes Miss Y/n, but I am unable to do that request."
I closed my eyes and brought my hands to my chest, fighting back and holding back my tears that I felt forming in my eyes. I slowly turned back around to see Walt, but he was gone.
I didn't hear or see him leave. This was confusing. Furrowing my eyebrows at the empty spot in which Walt stood once before, I quickly turned my head and body back towards the door, attempting to leave the auditorium when I gasped loudly.
"My love,please don't leave. This is your home now. I promise you my full protection. You are completely safe with me. I will not hurt you." Walt softly assured me as he magically appeared right in front of me, resting his hands on my arms that were held in front of me, fighting to not get too close to him.
"Please just listen to me. Please, darling" Walt cried out, getting me to stop and stand still, taking deep breaths as I looked into his eyes. He rested his hand atop of my shoulder.
"What about my home? My school and work? I have a family who I care about very much. I need to go back to them sometime soon" I questioned softly. My heart and mind burned while awaiting his response.
"Your family can visit you anytime. You don't have to say goodbye to them, darling. You don't have to say goodbye to that life. Everything will remain the same." Said Walt, reassuring me again. He began rubbing my shoulder with his thumb briefly.
🌷
I closed my eyes once more and felt a few tears start to fall down my cheeks. I was totally overwhelmed by everything I was being told. I wanted to go through it, but I was terrified of the whole transformation process.
"Hey, hey, hey. Y/n, it's okay. You're safe with me." Walt softly spoke against my ear and planted a kiss on my cheek.
His kiss on my cheek began to sooth my scared emotions down. I blushed as his lips remained on my cheek for a few brief moments, "I am being totally truthful and honest with you, my love. Please believe me. I wanted to tell you right away, instead of keeping it a secret and having you find out on your own." Walt admitted as he kissed my cheek once more before gently holding my chin with the tips of his fingers.
I continued to take deep breaths and nodded my head. I guess this is a childhood dream come true for me. Meeting a real vampire,falling in love with him, and becoming a vampire myself has always fascinated me.
What? It's true! Haha
All in all, I don't care about the secrets of what Walt is and what lies within the manor. All I truly care about is Walt and being with him everyday, and being under his wing.
I glanced up and into Walt's eyes as he looked into mine, a small smile began to show upon my face, "Walt. I thought about it and I changed my mind. I think being alongside you and being a vampire is okay to me. It's not so bad anymore. I'll stay, I promise."
Walt smiled brightly after hearing what I told him, "Yes? You will? That's wonderful, love. Thank you!" He pulled me in for a warm hug as I hugged him back, resting my head on his shoulder and blushed when I felt his lips kiss my neck gently.
From this happy and romantic time, Walt politely waved Mr. Field off, allowing him to leave and go about his business. He did just that, bowing before Walt and I and then exiting out of the auditorium.
"You are in complete and safe hands with me, like I previously mentioned. Oh and welcome home, my love." Said Walt as he winked my way, causing me to blush again. He then magically held out a tulip that he held behind his back and handed it to me.
I smiled and giggled softly as I took the tulip from him and thanked him for it by giving him a kiss on his cheek.
I swear I saw a tint of blush appear on his face that made my heart flutter with excitement. Oh what a thrilling time to be alive!
-the end!
I hope you all enjoyed my very first Walter 'Walt' Deville fanfic! It was tons of fun to write. There will be more of Walt to come from me soon, I promise! <3
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radiaking · 2 months ago
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200 years later, no matter how he feels about it or how he felt about it at the time, etc. coop feels fucking gross thinking negative things about barb. he does it sometimes. it happens. but he's upset w/himself nearly every time it happens. he does not like to talk about her and especially not talk bad about her....and unfortunately, it's kinda hard to talk about her at all without her coming off as a bad person....so he just. doesn't.
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disneytva · 5 months ago
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Disney Branded Television Sets PRIMOS Premiere For July 25th As Part Of Disney Channel Epic Mid-Summer
Oigan Primos! from the talented people who brought you Big City Greens comes a new meaning for BEST SUMMER EVER. ☀️🌈🖍️📔
Disney Branded Television has set the series premiere for Primos with a two-episode premiere July 25 at 8:00 p.m. Pacific on Disney Channel (with two new episodes airing every Saturday starting July 27). An initial batch of episodes will be available to stream on Disney+ starting July 26.
“Primos” follows Tater Ramirez Humphrey, an imaginative free spirit bursting with creative energy who is ready to spend the summer of her 10th birthday sorting out her goals and dreams. But her plans are derailed when she learns that her mother has invited all 12 of her primos — cousins — to spend the summer at their home and share her room.
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Joining the talented Primos guest cast includes
Gabriel Iglesias (Jorge R. Gutierrez "I-Chihuahua") as Tio Gustavo, Sarah Sherman (Anaapurna Animation's "Nimona) as Carmela, Cheech Marin (Pixar Animation Studios "Coco") as Abuelo Pop, Sherry Cola (Pixar Animation Studios "Turning Red") as Ms. Mahoney, Bill as Kyle MacLachlan, Jaime Jarrín (Los Angeles Dodgers) as Día de la Cultura Announcer and Xolo Maridueña (DC Studios "Blue Beetle" Marvel "Moon Girl And Devil Dinosaur").
Primos songs are GRAMMY nominated composers Alana Da Fonseca and Bobby Studley (Tim Burton's "Wednesday", Disney Channel Original Movies "Teen Beach Movie" franchise). Jim Lang (Nickelodeon Animation Studios "Hey Arnold" franchise) serves as score composer, Hey Arnold! creator Craig Barlett does additional guest clay animation.
Karla Sakas Shropshire (Nickelodeon Animation Studios "The Loud House", Disney Television Animation "Katz Café") serves as story editor.
Inspired by growing up in Fontana and Riverside with the chicano culture Primos has gotten praise by fellow industry members such as Jorge R. Gutierrez (Nickelodeon "El Tigre: The Adventures of Manny Rivera", 20th Century Animation "The Book of Life", Netflix Animation "Maya And The Three"), Phil Lord (MTV Animation "Clone High", Sony Pictures Animation "Cloudy For A Change Of Meatballs" franchise,"Spiderman In To The Spiderverse" franchise), Sofiá Alexander (Crunchyroll Originals "Onyx Equinox", Disney "Phineas And Ferb"), Guillermo Del Toro (Dreamworks Animation "Rise of The Guardians", "How To Train Your Dragon 2" "Tales of Arcadia" ,20th Century Animation "The Book Of Life", Netflix Animation "Guillermo del Toro's Pinnochio"), Miguel Puga (Nickelodeon Animation Studios "The Casagrandes", DC Studios & Warner Bros Animation "Blue Beetle The Series" ), Megan Nicole Dong (Netflix Animation "Centaurworld", Locksmith Animation "Bad Fairies" ) and more.
PRIMOS will be used by Disney TVA Multiplatform with their short series "CHIBI TINY TALES", "THEME SONG TAKEOVER", "BROKEN KARAOKE" & "HOW NOT TO DRAW" , Tater and The Ramirez Family will set to appear on CHIBIVERSE Season 2.
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Additionaly a Primos soundtrack by Walt Disney Records is set to debut July 26th on digital music platforms
PRIMOS joins Moon Girl And Devil Dinosaur,Kiff, Big City Greens,Amphibia,The Ghost and Molly McGee, Hamster & Gretel and Hailey's On It! on getting official albums.
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voidsentprinces · 29 days ago
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Good Evening, it is now the last week of October. As a veil between the world of the living and the dead becomes its thinnest and spirits of those long departed wander the Earth. It seems only appropriate to end the Spooky Season by spending...a Night on Bald Mountain by Modest Mussorgsky
Classical pieces don’t exactly have lyrics, so I thought I’d post some pieces and make a poll to help this super niche set of people maybe find the music they have been looking for one day.
Mussorgsky was hired to work on the piece to be set to an opera known as St. John's Night. But initially it was composed to aid in a play by his military friend Georgiy Mengden known as The Witch. One that either never got off the ground from conception or was never shown more than once. Either way, the piece is meant to portray the gathering of witches and sorcorers upon the titular mountain. Gathering their magics and horrors before the ringing of the bell brings the dawn of a new day upon which rests the Sabbath, Sunday the Holiest of Days. Making the servants of the Devil scatter before the presence of the Father and the rising Sun.
It was, of course, played in obscurity, until a Walt Disney experimental work, known as Fantasia. Set out to have artists put classical pieces to imagination and animation. Night on Bald Mountain depicting the gathering of ghouls and goblins before the imposing figure of Chernobog. A dark god in Germanic Myth and Legend. Appearing, first, in Helmold's Chronicle. And most recently, depicted by Peter Stormare in American Gods. Were it not for Walt Disney, it is possible that Czernobog would of remained an obscure character in global fiction. But thanks to this piece, he would appear even as an obstacle and boss in the now reknown Kingdom Hearts' first installment.
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shy-nightmare · 3 months ago
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The Toonz Twins: Toontown Sleuths Chapter One: Point of No Return
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Summary: Life is hard, especially if you’re a Toon. But life’s even harder if you’re a Toon hybrid living in a modern-day world where humans and Toons co-exist…and neither play nice. Cast aside by one of their own, a pair of twisted Toon twins finally leave the past one fiery night along with their pack to start a new life. But while they hit the road, the twins accidentally travel back in time and become a part of an investigation like no other.
Note: I’ve actually written this story before way back in 2018, but that was long back then when my old computer was slow AF and I wrote over 14 chapters. Sadly, I didn’t know how to download the original story before I got my new computer TnT. So I’m rewriting this from scratch.
Credit for inspiration goes to @imaginarytoon1, author of “The Birchwood Twins: Toontown Investigators” and @its-metal-mistress, author of “Bendy and the Ink Machine: Learning How to Live”. Please check out their own wonderful content ^^!
WARNING: This chapter contains graphic violence, murder, alcoholism, death, gore, Toon and hybrid Toon discrimination, profanity, attempted murder, and the Author’s terrible sense of humor
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Life in Chicago is hard.
It’s hard to survive, it’s hard to get by on a day-to-day basis. New York City may be one of the toughest cities in the world, but Chicago was a city that was also known to make or break a person, but if you could make it in the Second City, you could make it in the Big Apple and that’s a fact.
But life’s even harder for a Toon. It doesn’t matter what generation you’re from, or how things changed back then. Speaking of which, here is a quick history lesson. Up until the year 1928, the world was full of nothing but humans. Humans that went about their daily lives, doing little things here and there to survive. However, that all changed after a…magical incident. Apparently, the animation legend Walt Disney had been working tirelessly to achieve his lifelong goal; make his dream come true. And after years and years of hard work, his dream stepped out of the crisp, clean white sheet of paper.
The first cartoon ever brought to life. Mickey Mouse.
But, you see, Mickey wasn’t really brought to life from an ink pen and white paper. Unbeknownst to humans, another universe existed like all the others in the galaxy. It goes by many names, but it is known as the Tooniverse, an alternate version of the human world ruled and constructed by cartoon characters. Imagine it as a universe where Cool World meets Bonkers, and Disney’s relationship with Mickey was lightly like Jack Deebs’ with the devil-in-disguise bombshell Holli Would. Disney thought he created Mickey, but he existed long before he popped out of the paper.
Shortly after he made his debut to the public, there was a HUGE ruckus. Human citizens began reporting seeing cartoon characters made by Disney and other cartoonists and animators popping up all over the city of New York, and it wasn’t long before Toons began pouring from the woodworks. But despite the love and success Disney and Mickey gained, it did cause a controversy.
Not all humans were thrilled to see cartoon characters coexist in the human world. In fact, most weren’t. Many saw them as nothing more than entertainment for kids, and often talked down to Toons as if they were mere toddlers unable to grasp the concept of human civilization and reality.
And then…things escalated into violent breakouts. Let’s just say Disney wasn’t happy with the humans’ negative response to the new way of life, and with the little help of another entrepreneur named Marvin Acme, they managed to convince Congress to pass the Disney & Acme Civil Rights Movement for Toons Act of 1947 (or Toons’ Rights Act of `47 for short). They pushed politicians to do the right thing, to give Toons civil rights because they were people too and deserved to be free instead of spending their lives caged and living in fear. Although the battle was long and brutal, the politicians gave in and several laws passed, eventually giving Toons equal rights. Life became happier for Toons.
However, humans still discriminate against Toons in the modern generation.
There were hate crimes. There were occasional riots not just outside of Toontown, a safe haven built for Toons located in Los Angeles, California, but literally in other states and even countries. Toon families who lived outside of Toontown were pretty common, but many fled to Toontown in fear of being mugged. Those who stayed, however…well, you get the picture. More laws were put in place to protect Toons living outside of Toontown, but the bloodstained ink still paints the walls to this very day.
But if you think things are bad enough for Toons, imagine your life as a hybrid Toon.
Hybrid Toons, like any hybrid creature, are Toons born between two different Toon species, whether one Toon parent is a cartoon human, animal, insect or even a Toon created through…darker circumstances. A halfie…is probably the only polite term hybrids have other than “hybrid”. Others would call them “half-breeds” and etcetera due to having physical features inherited by their interspecies parents but addressing them as “half-breeds” and such is basically a racial slur. WHICH IS LITERALLY THE WORST THING TO SAY TO A HYBRID TOON!!! Sadly, humans and Toons discriminate against halfies, because they weren’t “fully Toon like one of their parents”, which is bullshit. Thankfully, there are Toons out there who are more accepting of halfies and often at times see them as one of their own, but the hate still plagues the lives of these poor individuals.
Especially if they’re living in Chicago. Until one night in Chatham…
_
In folklore, the Witching Hour or “Devil’s Hour” is a time of night that is known to be associated with supernatural events, whereby witches, demons, and other supernatural entities are thought to appear and be at their highest of power. Times often vary, such as the hour immediately after midnight, and the time between 3:00 am and 4:00 am.
That won’t be happening for two more hours, Twisted Twyla Toonz thought. She checked the time on her phone. 11:20 pm.
Crossing her arms, she emerged from the darkness of the abandoned warehouse and stepped into the pale, golden light of the streetlamp post.
Twyla’s Toon design appeared as an “emo teenage Minerva Mink” at first glance. But upon noticing her long wolf-like ears and her powerful femininity, she’s blossomed into a young woman reaching her early twenties. She stood just shy of six feet and carried herself with a dark queenly power. Twyla’s hair was as black as a starless midnight with waves hovering her midriff like the wings of a hovering raven and wistful bangs that veiled her left eye like the blade of a curved dagger. Her ghostly pale gray fur was an eerie contrast to her dark hair, so pale it appeared unnerving. Although she was slightly thin, she had a body that was carved with voluptuous curves carefully crafted by the skillful hand of an artist, and between small shoulders hung a large, womanly bust. Her hands and feet were delicate and feminine, but not without their deadly weaponry; sprouting from the tips of four fingers and three paw-toes were lethal, sharp claws painted glossy onyx that can slash through stone, flesh, and bone. Behind her, a long, enormous tail nearly twice her size was covered in soft, thick layers of inky fur swaying in the light like a looming shadow.
Twyla’s face was angelic and youthful, framed like a heart with a small touch of fluff on her cheeks, and she had a small, adorable black puppy nose that could easily sense prey and danger miles away. Two large, slightly rugged wolf ears matched her fur, and her right ear had a notch pierced by a single silver hoop earring. She also had dark, delicate lips soft like petals hiding a fearsome bite. But it was her eyes that gave her name. Twyla’s large, doe-like eyes, shaped like 1930s pie-cuts, were two bewitching shades of midnight and amethyst glittering in the darkness of night like stars.
Since the Witching Hour is close at hand, she thought she would dress for the occasion. For her outfit, she was wearing a gothic midnight purple bustier crop-top, trimmed with black elegant vampiric lace accenting the cleavage and the hem. Despite the month being the middle of August, it gets chilly when nightfall rises so she decided to wear a badass studded black biker jacket with matching biker gloves to keep warm, and like hell she was going to go anywhere without her large broad-brimmed black hat. She also wore skintight black jeans framing the svelte shape of her legs adorned with a silver vampire skull-buckle belt, black biker boots and around her neck she wore a necklace holding a beautiful sparkling silver crescent moon pendant, complimenting her name.
Her right ear perked hearing the sound of walking footsteps and turned to see the three other members of her family.
The first one to walk out the rusty door was the youngest, Echo. Echo was a petite pre-teen Toon mouse, and she had no business in being cute. Her fur was a light soft tan, warming her up from the tips of her ears to the tip of her long, slightly shaky tail. On top of a messy cloud of pink cotton candy for hair were two big mouse ears with pink insides, twitching from every sound they detected, even a heartbeat. Her eyes were pale milky blue, kissed by girlish lashes that fluttered like the wings of a fragile, innocent butterfly. While she had no whiskers, she had cute little buck teeth peeking out of her mouth accented by an adorable pink twitching nose.
Because she was a cartoon mouse, she had to be spoiled with cheese-themed clothing and accessories. She wore a long-sleeved black top with a Tom and Jerry logo with a baby pink tank underneath, cheese-designed pajama bottoms and sky-blue sneakers. Her jewelry only consisted of turquoise cheddar rhinestone earrings and a matching necklace. She was dragging the last remaining suitcase holding precious cargo she needed with her for the trip, and as she walked, her right sleeve accidentally slipped down her shoulder. Twyla’s heart panged spotting a handprint bruise that has been slowly healing and bit her cheek to hold back a murderous growl stuck in her throat from the memory of how Echo got that bruise.
The sweet mouse girl walked over to the slightly older female and requested for her help. They walked over to the back of the expensive silver SUV and Twyla clicked on the key button to open the trunk before helping Echo lift the suitcase in.
“Move faster!”
“Excuse me, asshat, last time I checked I can’t moonwalk without tripping over my fuckin’ tail!”
The girls turned their heads to the source (or should I say, sources) of the ruckus. It was just the boys taking a turn carrying a rather large heavy box, probably for Adam’s computer table.
Adam Rivers Foxington, or “Slick” as he’s nicknamed, was the oldest of the group. He was a young, handsome Toon fox with a lean bod. His fur was a fiery orange, save for his snow-white muzzle and underbelly. His face was cartoonishly vulpine, tufted in fluffy white fur softening his cheeks though his bite wasn’t nearly as soft. His ears were fluffed with cream innards, pointed with keen sharp awareness that matched his eyes like sharp jade razors. His attire of choice only had the intention of blending in, so he only wore a black hoodie with navy blue jeans and black shoes.
The fourth member was Twyla’s twin brother, Tommaso Toonz, or “Gunslinger Tom” for short. Unlike Twyla, he appeared more as a 1930s Toon wolf minus the longer snout and whiskers that haven’t grown in yet. His fur was inky black and quite rugged from the tips of his ears to his long furry tail, warming his sinewy physique. On top of his head was a wild mess of scruffy jet-black hair reaching down the nape of his neck adorned by unkempt bangs veiling over his forehead, casting a dark shadow over his pie-cut eyes that can pierce any man’s heart like two deadly obsidian bullets. Like his sister, he wore biker clothing. He wore a large, bulky black leather jacket over a matching V-neck top that barely concealed his brutal power, and wore dark ripped jeans adorned with a single silver chain dangling his left hip held up by a golden belt with ass-kicking biker boots. And like hell he was going to go anywhere without his own black fedora. His outfit of choice complimented his overall style; big and bad.
The boys lifted the box and with one heavy grunt, they carefully pushed it into the trunk. Tom fanned his sweaty face with his fedora. “All right,” he panted. His voice was smooth gravel smoked by a thick Chicago accent. “Is that everything?”
Echo pulled out her notebook where she’d listed down the essentials they’d bring. After a long moment, she looked up to their leader and nodded. Three sighs of relief exhaled.
This all started with an idea Adam suggested a few months ago, something that they all have been wanting for as long as they knew each other: a new life.
After they all discussed this during a sleepover meeting, the plan was set in motion. While the girls were sleeping, Tom and Adam stayed up all night, planning. They plotted the overall costs –- the cost of gas for hundreds of miles, the cost of food, hotels, and ideas for the ideal location. Thanks to Adam’s tech-wizard and hacker skills, he pointed Tom to a property resided in a few states over in a unique town where security is enhanced and job opportunities are better, and the house was big enough for all four of them. And thanks to Tom’s sleuth skills he learned while taking “odd jobs”, he was able to receive more than enough money to pay for most of the costs. The boys even cracked a chuckle, imagining the girls’ excited squeals when they see their “new home” while discussing what they’d need to bring, what’d they need to leave behind, and how much money they still needed to save. After figuring out how long it would take for them to reach that goal, they set a date: in six months, they’ll pack their bags and leave Chicago for good.
Tonight is the night.
However, only one question remained. Tom and Twyla turned to Adam. “Well, Slick?” Tom asked.
The fox chuckled and whirled himself around in a Toon-Tornado. He was sitting in a judge’s chair with a desk while holding a neat stack of papers. Putting on an antique pair of round spectacles, he spoke in a deep powerful voice. “After reviewing your case in a thorough analysis and inspection with the court, I have concluded the state of your request.”
All three heads zeroed on him, “Well?”
Adam looked up at the twins…and smiled broadly. “Congratulations, Mr. and Ms. Toonz.” He handed them over the papers, “You have been properly and officially emancipated. Case close.” He pounded his table with the gravel.
The silence was monumental before the three Toons let out a huge “WHOOO!!!!”, and the girls hugged each other while Tom did a Smooth Criminal victory dance and finished with a dab. Then, they all pulled Adam in for a powerful group hug, happiness flowing through their bonds, their spirits alive and singing. Their hug lasted for another long moment before Tom reluctantly pulled away. He dusted his arms and his hat, “All right, enough of this gooey emotional shit.” He ignored the girls’ deadpan looks and put his fedora back on. “How’s it lookin’ for transportation?”
Adam pulled out his phone and viewed the contents. “Smooth like silk. The Amtrack will be able to get us to L.A. within two days, seventeen hours and forty minutes, and the train doesn’t leave until midnight. Unfortunately, I couldn’t save two more seats for you guys, so I propose using the only Toon-friendly trolley system Chicago has to offer.”
“The Red Car.” Tom nodded. “Which means, it’s gonna be an even longer trip for us.” He frowned thoughtfully. “That’s not too far from here, so we should be able to catch the Red Car on time.”
Adam could tell there was something else Tom was hesitating to say. “What are you gonna do in the meantime?”
Daring to sneak a glance, Tom softly cursed from the slightly tense look in the older male’s eyes and sighed, knowing damn well how they’re going to take this next news. “Twyla and I are gonna grab a few more things at the Hellhole.”
“What?!” The twins winced from the anger of Adam’s sharply loud voice and the terror in Echo’s eyes. “Toonz, are you shitting me?! You said that you’ll never step one foot in that fuckin’ place again, and we both know why!”
“I know, and I mean that.” Tom placed a hand on the Toon fox’s shoulder. “But there are a few good memories that were stolen from us, and we want those back.”
After hearing “good memories”, Adam’s sharp glare softened, albeit slightly.
“No one’s gonna find us, right?”
Three heads turned to Echo who spoke for the first time since they started packing. She was glancing at them worriedly and her poor ears drooped, which softened their hearts. Sweet, precious Echo. She’s always looking out for them even after she has been through so, so much pain and unimaginable suffering.
Tom walked over and gently placed both hands on her delicate shoulders. “We’re gonna be fine, Candy Girl. Adam and I both made sure that our tracks are well hidden while going over the costs of our plan. Right, Slick?”
“That’s right, pipsqueak.” Adam nodded, “I went through the trouble of tweaking the security footage of the webcams and traffic light cameras to make double-sure we don’t get any unwelcome visitors. Not like that’s ever gonna happen. I mean, I’m already emancipated since I got tossed out. You were pronounced “missing”, basically dead. And the twins…” he trailed off, casting the twins a somber, wary glance. “Well…”
“No one even acknowledged us, so our “disappearances” will barely make it to the news.” Tom finished grimly.
His packmates looked down at the ground, bracing the chilly air of silence or Tom’s ice-cold resentment. Or the memory of the hard pill they’ve all swallowed long ago. After another long moment, Adam was the first to speak. “You sure we can’t tag along?” he asked.
“Trust me, it’s as bad as you remember. And we definitely don’t want Echo to get sick from inhaling the nasty stench of B.O. and booze.” Their leader replied, chuckling from seeing Echo’s cute little face scrunch. “You got your phone set?”
Adam looked at his device. “We’re hot.”
“Good.” Tom nodded. The boys exchanged a quick bro handshake, silently wishing each other good luck while Echo walked over to give Twyla another hug, only to make this one last longer. She finally pulled away, still holding onto the ravenette’s shoulders.
“Promise me you’ll be careful?” she asked, looking her right in the eye.
Twyla nodded. She understood why Adam and Echo were so hesitant to start the trip without them, but she and Tom didn’t want them to take any chances at the Hellhole. Her brother gently nudged her shoulder, getting her attention. Then he looked at the other two. “You gonna buy us a pizza to welcome us home?” He grinned at Adam.
“After making me haul up all your heavy-ass cargo? I don’t think so.” The fox snorted, flipping him the bird.
“Up yours too, asshole.” Tom chuckled, returning him the bird before he and his sister began their trail to the Hellhole.
Adam shook his head, grumbling as he walked over to get into the driver’s seat. Echo watched the twins go, her eyes glistening with inky tears. She held onto the passenger’s handle with one hand, and behind her back she kept her fingers crossed.
__________________
It was practically pitch-black when they stopped at the apartment in East Chatham. The building was four stories in height and held more than 20 apartments, built of crumbling red bricks and mortar that weakened with age, bits and pieces falling off like the paper edges of a torn, tossed model sheet. The sides were caked with moss and mold from rain, age, and neglect. All the windows were closed and most of the lights were off, but the twins could see the cracks that had been left uncared for. Across the left side of the entrance stood a towering tree, its posture hunched over from the weight of the leaves and its branches dangling like a pork pig carcass. The perimeter was guarded by iron black gates tipped with sharp spear points, but no one was really living there. Everyone left, but some stayed to rot.
The twins exchanged a silent conversation, then they both nodded. “You sneak in through the bedroom window, I’ll check the master’s for more cash and heat.” Tom spoke, then he walked off to the other sidewalk.
Twyla observed her surroundings, pondering how she was going to sneak in without having to use the door. Her eyes saw the tree and a lightbulb lit above her head. She spotted the largest and thickest branch, rubbed her gloved hands together, and lunged onto the tree. With one hand on the branch, she hoisted herself up and used her tail to secure her landing before she began to climb. The wolf-mink female prowled across the branch like a graceful panther, moving the thick leaves out of her path, then she spotted the closet roof she could land on. Without taking her eyes off the roof, she took a slow deep breath, and jumped. Her raven hair flew around the air like a dark cape as she adjusted her altitude into a somersault, and like a performer, she landed on the roof with graceful time and finesse.
Twyla walked across the left side of the building, keeping her ears high and her eyes clear. It wasn’t long until she spotted the only window she was looking for, and she crouched down to knee-level before she reached for the bottom rail. It wasn’t locked. She carefully lifted the window up and stepped into the bedroom. Twyla’s and Tom’s old bedroom.
The walls were painted pale gray, almost white and the floor was blanketed in grey carpet padding. Across them were pale shadows of the band posters the twins already took down, and the bookshelf was void of the twins’ favorites, like The Outsiders and The Great Gatsby, and Twyla’s collection of Edgar Allan Poe. On Twyla’s left stood a twin-over full bunk bed, padded in skull-designed pillows and blankets. Sighing, she sat on the larger bottom bed where she once slept, her head in her hands. She thought of the good memories she acquired in the room. The times she spent trying to read while Tom played his favorite video games, days she spent helping Tom with his homework.
There were so many memories in this one room it was crazy. Her mind flittered to nights long ago when she helped clean her brother’s wounds, Tom cheering her up with his goofy voice impressions, but she banished the memories as soon as they came. The pain of remembering was too hard. She already had her bags packed in Adam’s car, and she entrusted him and Echo to look after them. And in spite of everything, she’s not bringing as much as she would need to. She only brought one purse where she kept her most valued and important necessities, and everything else she needed.
Sighing, she got up gingerly, careful to keep her movements quiet as she took her purse. As she grabbed onto the bedroom doorknob, she looked over her shoulder to the opened window, her heart steady and still as she faced the city with a somber glance.
Chicago was no longer her home.
Twyla opened the knob, and carefully pushed the door open without making a sound. She poked her head out, and noticed the long hallway across the living room and kitchen where the master bedroom was. Tom should be finished by now.
She stepped out into the living room and—
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Twyla froze. Her pale gray fur raised, alarming her that she was in grave danger. And when she looked at the balcony, her blood ran cold like ice.
Standing in front of her was another male Toon wolf, older by a few years. Unlike Tom, his fur was a rusty red and dirty compared to Adam’s. His hair was shorter than Tom’s but just as scruffy, and one of his ears was nearly torn off. He wore a stained white tank over worn-out jeans and black western boots adorned with a leather strap studded with flesh-piercing spikes. And he was muscular, but he wasn’t built with a soft layer like Tom has. No. He was huge, shredded, and his arms were packed with heavy muscle like steel armor. He towered over her, standing at an imposing height of seven feet, clenching his fist with one hand and Twyla could see the empty bottle.
Oh fuck, he’s drunk again.
Twyla’s eyes moved back to him, but doing so made her heart stop. He was looking at her the same way he always did, and it always frightened her. His lips bared into a menacing growl, revealing a mouthful of sharp bone-chewing fangs, but it was his eyes that terrified her the most.
Eyes full of ice-cold hate.
Twyla was paralyzed with fear, her heart beating so loud her eardrums would burst. Every fiber of her being trembled, unable to shake off the impending waves of horror from the sight of him, and she fought very hard not to let the memories cloud her vision.
If she spoke, he would only get angrier.
And if she did not speak, he would only get angrier.
She had to be careful.
“I-” she began to stutter but caught herself. He hates it when she stutters. “I’m sorry, Darry. I’ll leave now—”
It happened so fast. Paralyzing pain singed her right cheek. Her head spun so fast she could have gotten whiplash before she fell on the floor, spots popping up in her vision as she tasted blood on her tongue.
“You’re sorry? YOU’RE SORRY?!” the male roared. His voice was like an avalanche of a thunderstorm; loud, booming, and unforgiving. His icy blue eyes flashed like lightning, and a low growl rumbled from his throat like a warning thunder. “You have the fuckin’ nerve to show your ugly-ass mug here in my house, after what you’ve fuckin’ done, and now you’re fucking SORRY?!?!”
Twyla couldn’t breathe. His words dug into her chest like sharp claws, ripping out her heart. It wasn’t the first time he said something like this, not the first time he blamed her. Every day and night was the same back when she and Tom lived with him. He comes home from work. He drinks. And he gets angry. And even on nights he doesn’t drink, he gets angry. She wanted to help him. And she tried—she really tried, but the grief destroyed him.
She tried to speak—but bolted as soon as she saw the bottle flying towards her.
It shattered upon impact against the wall, broken glass shards scattering across the floor like pieces of broken crystal. Twyla was terrified, silent and shocked. He had never raised a hand or threw his beloved Jack Daniels at her before. She faced Darry, but he was already charging at her like a savage animal; luckily, she was able to leap over him despite being in a narrow-spaced apartment just as her opponent slammed headfirst into the stove. He grabbed onto the counter and stove railing for support, but he accidentally knocked over another bottle of alcohol, but it was full, and he switched the burner control knob on. Fire burst from the grate right into Darry’s face and right arm, causing him to recoil and scream in agonizing, burning pain.
Twyla spotted the balcony and its doors wide open. She grabbed her bag and ran over to get ready to jump.
But just as she reached out for the railing, Darry’s large hand grasped onto her tail in a very painful grip and swung her high in the air before slamming her on the ground hard enough to injure her skull. Mind-searing pain coursed her head, and her vision became distorted. And then, the large red beast pounced on her and curled his strong hands around her neck, using his strength and body weight to prevent her from escaping.
Twyla tried gasping for breath, but she could barely breathe due to her lungs being constricted. She writhed and kicked as much as she can, but Darry wouldn’t even budge. Her vision began to darken. Fuck, this is bad! She needed to be stronger!
Despite her deteriorating vision, she saw Darry pull something large and metallic out from his pocket and heard something click. Then she spotted little green splatches drip from the long barrel of the object. She took a whiff, and her heart dropped down to her stomach.
Is that…Dip?! Her amethyst eyes went wide as saucers, stricken in horror. How the hell did he get a Dip-bulleted gun?!
A new burst of adrenaline kicked in her system, and she felt a newfound strength within her fight-or-flight instincts. She clawed and kicked even harder, even as Darry’s vice-grip on her neck tightened.
“It should have been you,” Darry snarled resonantly. Twyla dared to look at his half-burned face. His right eye was bloodshot, marred by the burn scars scorning the side of his forehead all the way down to his cheekbone and neck. He glared down at her with barbaric, murderous hatred before he aimed the barrel of his gun at her face. Twyla’s heart pounded with intense, quivering terror. “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN YOU!!!”
“GET THE HELL OFF OF HER, YOU BASTARD!!!”  
Darry whirled his head around and Tom lunged onto him, knocking Darry’s gun out of his grasp. Twyla rolled over to her side, gingerly soothing her throat as she coughed heavily. As she slowly regained consciousness and oxygen, she turned to see her brother on top of the larger wolf and beating the absolute shit out of him. His tail whooshed and lashed out like a furious, deadly cobra as he beat his bloodied fists repeatedly in the drunk bastard’s face, screaming curses and obscenities in hateful English and Italian.
And Darry was completely fucked up.
His hair and fur massed with dirt and blood, his left eye nearly swollen shut, and his red cheeks battered with red, purplish bruises. His snout was smeared with traces of blood dripping down his nose and seeping down his lower lip, staining his gritted teeth red. Twyla could see three bleeding claws marks across the older male’s chest, and figured that Tom was trying to rip his heart out.
Tom saw his sister watching and shouted, “GO! I’ll hold him off! GO!”
With him distracted, Darry took advantage of the opportunity to unsheathe his claws and swung his right hand at Tom’s face, scratching him. He was sent flying across the room before he tumbled into the crappy sofa, causing the furniture to fall on top of him. The drunk brute used his hands to steady himself, swaying a bit as he struggled to stand up, his eyes locked on the biker-clad gangster.
No! No! Twyla panicked, looking around to find what she could use. She saw the gun and immediately tucked it into her jacket pocket, but her eyes spotted something. A long glass shard.
Tom clutched onto his left ribcage painfully, gritting his teeth as he held onto the sofa with his one hand before he slowly pulled himself up. A thin trail of blood dripped down his right eyebrow, clouding his vision. He dug in his left pocket, but Darry had him cornered. He grabbed Tom by the scruff of his neck and reared his right fist, ready to punch him.
But before he could throw his fist, Twyla pounced on him from behind and used her delicate arms to pull him into a chokehold. The red Toon wolf dropped Tom and grasped onto the girl’s arm, intent on pulling her off him. But Twyla was quicker.
She pulled out the shard, shoved it around Darry’s neck, and slit his throat.
Slash.
Crimson blood sprayed from Darry’s throat like a sprinkler, staining his shirt. His eye widened in shock. All he could do was grasp his bloodstained neck and let out a garbled symphony of choked screams and groans from the unbearable, flesh-tearing pain. The twins watched him sway, his arms dangling to his sides. Then he fell onto his back motionlessly.
Tom stood up on his feet and quickly walked over to his sister. He knelt and gently held her by her shoulders. “Are you all right?” he asked, then reprimanded himself when he saw the nasty bruises on her cheek and neck. “Fuck that. You’re not all right. Stupid question.”
Twyla nodded, but softly gasped when she saw the scar on his eye. “Tom. Your eye.”
“Huh?” He reached up and touched his eyelid, hissing upon impact. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I’m fuckin’ Gunslinger Tom Toonz, for God’s sakes.” He snickered.
Twyla sighed and shook her head, but she couldn’t hold back a snicker.
A garbled groan interrupted them.
The twins both turned to see Darry, who was still alive. But he was barely breathing. He laid in a puddle of his own blood, gently grasping his slit throat to stop the bleeding, but it was too late. His heartbeat was slowly growing faint, his breaths growing weaker by the minute. He heard two sounds of footsteps walking towards him, and he looked up to see Tom and Twyla standing near him.
They loomed over him like two foreboding phantoms, staring down at him with bared fangs and hellish fury glowing in their eyes. Tom’s hardened, murderous glare suddenly extinguished into a calm but stoic expression. He and Twyla turned to each other and stared right in the eyes, as if they were having a silent conversation.
After a long moment of silence, Tom spoke. “If we do this, we cannot return.”
Twyla looked at him for a moment, then slowly turned to the dying drunkard before them. She stared at him long and tense, unwavering even as he glared hotly at her despite the life slowly draining out of him.
Twyla shut her eyes, then looked away.
Tom jerked a nod, “You might wanna take a step back.”
He dug into his pocket and pulled out his gun.
Darry’s dying heart skipped a beat and opened his mouth to scream.
A gunshot broke the silence, and the bullet pierced right into his heart.
Splatches of dipped red smeared the floor right where Twyla stood and stained the sofa. Smoke rose from the corpse’s bleeding chest where Tom shot him, and Darry’s right hand fell to his side. The slash was so deep Twyla practically cut his head off. Hell, Tom could even see the veins on his jugular. He grinned with proud sadistic mirth.
Suddenly, a harsh brazen screech shrieked, followed by the smell of alcohol and gas. The twins whirled to see a growing fire fueled by the spilled booze, the flames tickling the steel exterior of the stove and dripping down to the floor. “Oh, shit! Fire!” Tom shouted, “Grab your bag and let’s bail!”
Twyla secured her purse and took her brother’s hand, running together towards the balcony. With one great leap, the twins jumped high in the air and soared across the backyard. Tom pulled his sister close protectively while keeping his hat on before he landed on his feet just inches away from the gates. He allowed himself to take a few deep breaths before he and Twyla continued running. They ran across the narrow trail leading to the left side of the apartment, not once releasing their grip even after they stopped out in the open. Twyla’s chest was heaving heavily, inhaling huge gusts of air and suddenly she spotted something red driving down their way. “Look!” she pointed.
Tom looked past his twin’s shoulder and squinted. Then he beamed, “The Red Car!”
Indeed, it was the Red Car. Their own chariot, painted in shining red and gold. Brought to you by the Pacific Electric Railway company. And right on schedule!
With all the energy they had left, the twins darted all the way down to the closest stop on the end of the sidewalk. Once they reached there, Tom pulled out his wallet while Twyla quickly applied some concealer to hide her bruises. Her brother stuck out his thumb, motioning for the vehicle to stop. With a slow, steaming hiss and the brake on the wheels, the Red Car stopped for them. The doors opened, revealing the driver to be an elderly male Toon vulture.
“You here for the midnight trip?” he asked gruffly.
“Yeah.” Tom, being the gracious gentleman he was, dug out a big smack of $20. “Would this do?” he asked, giving the driver the money.
He looked down, then sighed. “All right. Hop in.”
Tom tipped his hat, “Much obliged.”
He led his sister to the back seats at the end of the Red Car and let out an exhausted sigh the moment he sat his ass down. Twyla joined him, digging in her small mirror to check her reflection. The doors closed, the engine started, and the ride began. The Red Car was driving a few blocks past 79th Street when the twins suddenly heard a siren. They looked over Twyla’s right where the window was and saw a Toon firefighter truck zooming down past them. Eyes widening, they turned around and peered through the small glass window to watch the truck drive towards East Chatham where a flaming inferno blazed to life, eating the blackened tree leaves. The glow of the fire shone bright in the dead of night, melting the chains of the unreachable past.
This was the point of no return.
“Boy, am I glad to be out of this hellhole.” The driver grumbled to himself.
“You and me both.” Tom agreed, unaware of the stricken look on his sister’s face.
She shook it off, then looked at the words on the tracker written in glowing neon.
3280 Hyperion Avenue, Los Angeles, California.
Their destination; Toontown.
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lowcountry-gothic · 11 months ago
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That's it for the Lost tarot cards. I wish I'd finished the deck, at least the major arcana. Maybe I'll do it one of these days.
If anyone's curious about which characters/scenarios the rest of the cards were going to feature, I put the list from my notes app under the cut.
Temperance: Hurley (holding jars of ranch dressing and peanut butter) The Devil: The Man in Black (obviously) The Tower: the plane crash, broken apart and in mid-fall The Star: Claire, holding a banded seagull by the shore The Moon: Kate (white toy airplane on one side, black horse on her other) The Sun: Desmond...but I already used him for the Lovers, so I probably wouldn't have ultimately gone with him. But I love the image of him with his golden smile and surrounded with the white light from right after he turned the failsafe key Judgement: the church scene in the finale The World: the Heart of the Island
Torches (Wands): 1. Eko's stick 2. Jack chasing "his father" through the jungle 3. Jack staring at the ocean under the Lighthouse 4. Reunion scenes 5. Either Michael and Jin or Sawyer and Sayid fighting 6. Charlie, Hurley, & Jin driving the Dharma van 7. Jack vs. Locke, torches crossed Eko confronting the monster 8. The trek to the radio tower 9. Michael carrying an armful of bamboo towards the unfinished raft 10. Pushing the completed raft towards the ocean Page: Charlotte Knight: Richard Alpert Queen: Ana Lucia King: Christian Shephard
Bottles (Cups): 1. The cup Jacob's mother gives him 2. Either Hurley and Libby on the beach, or Shannon and Sayid 3. Hurley, Charlie, & Desmond drinking MacCutcheon on the beach 4. Lapidus in Eleuthera before he sees the "wreckage" of 815 5. Jack doing the dishes as Sarah leaves him 6. Cindy playing with Zach & Emma 7. Locke imagining what's inside the hatch door (Twinkies, supplies, hope, etc.) 8. Ben leaving Dharma to join the Others 9. Sawyer giving Juliet the flower in the Barracks 10. Hurley's surprise party with his parents and the Oceanic Six Page: Shannon Knight: Yemi Queen: Penny King: David Reyes
Knives (Swords): 1. Locke's hunting knife 2. Ana Lucia with Sayid tied up after Shannon's murder 3. Locke's murder (with the extension cord knot forming a heart) 4. Jack asleep, having been drugged by Kate 5. Michael leaving on the boat with Walt 6. The Oceanic Six coming ashore on Membata 7. Nikki & Paolo with the diamonds and spiders 8. Sawer or Kate, locked in the Hydra cages 9. "We have to go back!" 10. Juliet with the Jughead core Page: Walt Knight: Pierre Chang Queen: Eloise Hawking King: Faraday
Coins (but with Dharma logos) 1. Hurley's lottery ticket 2. Pressing the button (balancing that with sleep, exercise, etc.) 3. Charlie helping Eko build the church 4. Sawyer's stash 5. Shannon asking Boone for money in her bedroom 6. Hurley handing out DHARMA food from the Swan 7. Sun tending her garden 8. Sayid fixing the transceiver 9. Hurley listening to records in the Swan 10. Rose and Bernard in their "retirement" with Vincent Page: Libby Knight: Cassidy Phillips Queen: Carmen Reyes King: Charles Widmore
11 notes · View notes
xxitslivxx · 11 months ago
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Cuphead rap lyrics 😱😱😱
Take a sip of this, I'm an itty bitty Cuphead
One sentence in, I've already made a pun, yep
Picking up steam, wonder why they call me hothead
Struck a deal with the devil, now I'm rackin' up debt
Yes I made a dumb bet, no need to get upset
I'm a cup of trouble, have you seen my mugshot yet?
Step in front of my finger gun, and you drop dead
Wallop all your bosses, leave 'em all jobless
They'll never stop me from runnin' like a faucet
I'm a full cup, don't you ever try to top it
You can never touch this, but you can kick the bucket
I'm meant to be drunk from, but not to be trusted
Heads up, hit the deck, Mugman
You don't really wanna get your head busted
I'm a dirty dish, who needs a rough scrubbin'
After doing these devilish deeds, God damn!
I'll stop this train even if it's haunted
"Where's my ship?" Sorry just sunk it
Hopping like a frog, duck and dodge your punches
Won't shed a single tear when I'm choppin' onions
Spent all your breath huffin' and puffin'
Just to get dumped on by a cup for nothin'
Unless all you wanna end up dead
You do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said
Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said
Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said
Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said
Do not mess with a Cuphead, 'nuff said
You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled
My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?
I took the devilish gamble
Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle
And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill
Any line that you happen to draw
Is a line I'll be stepping across
Trapped in a world lacking any natural laws
Have you had your coffee yet? 'Cause I'm off of the walls
My demons need some exorcise
A little caffeine oughta get 'em energized
Will we ever get to heaven when we die?
Can't get any worse, we already bet our lives
Forget fairy tales, they're fizzin' out
I'd like to pick a fight with that prick, Micky Mouse
I'll kick his ass then I'll knock Walt Disney out
I'll leave 'em with a taste of toxic in their mouth (no!)
My hand's been dealt, it's a bad draw though
I'll go all in when the rest all fold
Look's like I'm on the last straw so
Better tell the devil th-that th-that's all folks!
Come see what we been brewin'
Something to keep ya movin'
Must be the beat I'm boomin'
Hit me with that funky music
How do we keep on groovin'?
Once could say we been juicin'
Beepin' boopin', looney toonin'
Time for you to face the music
You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled
My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?
I took the devilish gamble
Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle
And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill
I feel like the holy grail
Just hope I don't go to Hell
If so that won't go so well
I've been bad, but no one tell
I'm much more than just cup
Raise a toast and pick me up
Pour one more and drink it up, but don't choke
'Cause I'm not the kinda cup you should be chugging from
I'll get the jump on ya when I run and gun
Working for Lucifer is a ton of fun
"You two, do my bidding" done and done
I'm a jazzy chap who'll leave you razzle-dazzled
After I whoop and wallop your ass in battle
When I'm stuck up shits creek without a paddle
Just imagine, the glass is half full
You'll never catch me cryin' over milk I spilled
My head ain't empty, but who knows with what it's filled?
I took the devilish gamble
Nothing that a Cuphead couldn't handle
And now it's time to foot the bibbadibibitty-bill
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nocturnal-milk-dud · 1 year ago
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Ok, you did say we can send more than one. Sooo Ossie + Dusk til Dawn
I know. I’m being greedy. I’m not sorry and thank you for this. I love the way you write Ossie, and imagining him in this scenario feels like a perfect spooky season story.
Thank you for your patience!!! I felt very rusty but I had fun. I hope you have fun too! 💗 (I maybe looked at this one too much and not enough) and I listened to after dark too many times
Knocking On The Devil's Door
Pairing: Ossie Mejía x Reader
Warnings/notes: blood; language; violence; gun violence; claustrophobia; choking/asphyxiation; Ossie gif credit to the lovely @cregan-starks 💓
Rating: R
Word count: 1318
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Bad news, that's what this place is. He knew it when he saw it. Somehow this shithole had stood for one hundred years and it would stand for a hundred more. Bad news-that's what he'd told Walt. Lotta good it did him now. 
Ossie stifles a groan and air hisses through his clenched teeth as he peels himself out of his brown jacket, turning his attention to his wounded shoulder. He supposes he should consider himself lucky. When everything went to shit most guys ended up with their throats torn out. All he got was a stray bullet to the shoulder.
And you. 
Ossie is very aware of you watching him as he stanches the bleeding, and he's smart to be. 
You sit across from him in the storage room, listening to the fight raging in the bar. Glass shatters, tables crash under the weight of bodies, bullets fly, and you can smell the blood, as strong out there as it is in the room. 
You're hungry. 
It doesn't matter. You owe him a debt. He may not make it out of here alive but you won't be the reason. He doesn't need to know that, though. Best he thinks you're another survivor, caught up in the same crazy shit as him, or things could turn very ugly in the small room very fast. 
Ossie's struggling with the bandage, and you can feel the need inside you clawing at your throat. You get up-maybe too fast because Ossie stops working to look at you-and cross the room slowly. Your teeth dig into your tongue as you take the bandage from him and work to get it tied. You know you're lingering too long because you can feel him watching you, and blood from your own tongue has gathered in your mouth.
There's a loud thud that startles the two of you. Ossie gets to his feet, and you turn to face the door. Perhaps it was only a body thrown against it, but the silence sits heavy and you can't keep from holding your breath. Your eyes don't leave the door. You startle at the feel of a hand on your wrist. Ossie stands at your side, gun in hand. Lines of blood drip down his arm, one of them sliding over his thumb, and for a moment you've forgotten about the door and everything outside it. All you hear is a strong, even heartbeat.
"I can smell you." The voice comes from the other side of the door and you jump despite its softness. It seeps through the cracks like smoke, smooth and deadly. 
Santanico. 
You shove aside a stack of boxes and wrench open a dust covered trap door. 
"Go!" you hiss. Ossie looks at you in alarm and confusion. The door leads down to a large series of snaking tunnels, and the opening is pitch black. You wave at him to go and hope the desperation in your face is enough for him to trust you. Ossie takes one last glance at the door and decides there's worse things than what's beneath him, and climbs down. There's a crash as the door gives, but you've already hidden the trap door. Santanico steps over what's left of the door, cleaning the dust and debris out of her hair. 
"You're missing the party," she says, her lips shaping up into a deadly smile. She's like a cat eyeing a mouse, and you match her step for step as she slowly moves around the room. As she gets closer to the hidden door, you get closer to the wooden shards. Your eyes never leave her, watching how her neck arches and her fingers dance across her stomach, following the smell of blood that led her there. Santanico finds Ossie's jacket and you bite down on your lip to keep from grimacing. She brings it to her face, finding the dark red spot that had drenched the fabric. You find the piece you want, sharp and sturdy enough to do the trick, but before you can reach for it her eyes are on you. 
"Didn't anyone ever teach you to share?" Santanico demands. She throws aside the boxes, finding the hatch and a dark drop of blood in the dust near it. You grab the makeshift stake and charge at her, but she catches you by the neck without even turning her head. There's nothing but air beneath your feet. 
"Didn't anyone ever teach you to fucken say please?" you choke. 
"No." Santanico launches you like you weigh nothing, sending you sailing through the busted doorway, and crashing into the only table somehow still standing, dust billowing up around you. 
Ossie has no idea where he's going. His lighter offers a meager amount of light, enough to make sure he doesn't run into anything. The tunnels are tight, the walls dripping something dark. He doesn't want to stop but he's afraid if he keeps going the next turn he takes will be the wrong one. 
He shouldn't have jumped into this hellhole to begin with, shouldn't have left you up there alone. But Ossie knows he's the one in danger this time, not you. That you're aware this place exists tells him all he needs to know.  
He swears as he trips over something, landing hard on his chest, the air knocked out of him. Ossie fiddles with the lighter to get his bearing, and finds himself face to face with a human skull. The ground before him is littered with them. His blood goes cold and his heart throbs in his ears, and someone starts screaming.
No, not screaming. Someone's singing. A woman. Her voice bounces off the cool walls, off the skulls, comes from the skulls. It sounds like she's everywhere, like she's inside of him.  
Ossie snuffs the lighter and sits up, hugging the wall, trying to steady his breath.
"There's no way out down here," the woman calls, voice like velvet. "I'm going to find you." He checks his pistol, his fingers sweaty around the grip, and he worries he's starting to lose feeling-the wound maybe worse than he thought. But there's enough ammo to buy him time-he thinks.
Ossie keeps moving, picking his way carefully among the skulls.
It doesn't take you long to find the two of them. Ossie, not knowing where he was headed, had inadvertently taken himself in circles and is now staring down Santanico, gun tight in hand. The two of them stand in a small pool of flickering light. Neither of them see you. 
"And what do you think you're gonna do with that?" Santanico asks. You have to be quick. You know he'll only get one shot in and that it won't do anything but annoy her. The gun fires and you hook an arm around Santanico's neck before she can reach for him, bringing the makeshift stake down into her chest. Santanico howls and her body convulses, bubbles.
"Fucker," she spits, the word muddled and incoherent as she falls apart. You let her drop to the ground, melt into a tarry mess in the dust. 
Ossie hasn't lowered his gun, his eyes on you now. You raise your hands, give him space-not because you're worried about the gun-you're watching the rivulets of blood that are curving their way down his hand.
His face relaxes, his arm drops to rest at his side.
"A rainy night in Guadalajara, three years ago," Ossie says, and you smile ever so slightly, letting your arms fall. He remembers. He remembers you. 
"You saw someone being attacked in an alleyway. You didn't have to help, but you did," you continue for him. "You saved my life. For what it's worth." You give a half-hearted shrug, looking down at the remnants of Santanico. The two of you are quiet, thinking perhaps about that night, and everything that came after, everything that led you here.
"What next?" Ossie finally asks. 
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bi-bard · 2 years ago
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Imagine Being Loved by Me - Walt De Ville Imagine [The Invitation]
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Title: Imagine Being Loved by Me
Pairing: Walt De Ville X Reader
Based On: Talk
Word Count: 1,618 words
Warning(s): author's attempts at flirting
Summary: Walt had always been charming. He spoke in a kind of romantic language. It was enough to draw almost anyone in. He thought (Y/n) was the same until they called him on his true intentions.
Author's Note: This was inspired by a scene from the movie.
WASTELAND, BABY! - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST
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When I first met Walt, he was like a puzzle.
A bunch of small pieces of information and behavior that I tried to construct into a single image.
He made it difficult. He would hide much of his history behind riddles and vague ideas. He answered questions with questions. He used a charming smile and small jokes to hide anything that he could deem as too personal.
There had been an event held at De Ville Manor. A small dinner. I have no idea why I had been invited, but there I was, standing in the foyer of what I would have called a castle.
I never meant to catch Walt's eye. I think he meant to catch mine. I think he meant to catch everyone's eye.
He introduced himself casually, as if unaware of his status. Unaware of how many eyes followed his every movement.
His words flowed through the conversation like he already knew everything I would say. He knew how to carry control of a conversation. How to gently guide the topic to what he desired they be about.
I may not have noticed it if I didn't watch him do it again with another person just a few moments after speaking to me.
I don't know how much of that event I spent talking to Walt. It felt like an eternity. He would smirk as he made small comments. He would ask questions about my work, my life, my hobbies. If I attempted to return the favor, he would avoid the topic and turn the conversation back to me. I had never held a love for talking about myself, yet I was doing so with little to no hesitation now.
Truly strange.
When he got dragged away from our conversation, I got a chance to truly think about his actions.
He was casual. Calm. He knew that any high ground was entirely his. He knew more about his guests than the guests knew about their host. He didn't seem to use that for power. Just to draw people in. Make them comfortable in his presence.
He walked back to me a few moments later. "I am so sorry. Old friends."
"You are hosting an event," I said. "It would be rude of me to demand all of your attention."
"You say that like you have to try to do so," he smirked a bit as he spoke.
I would have scoffed at him if I hadn't been so scared of offending the host of the night.
"You don't believe me," he noted.
"I have seen your other guests," I explained.
It wasn't a lie. The other guests all seemed perfect. Interesting and stunning. Seeing myself in such a way was almost impossible, no matter how much someone insisted on it.
"And yet, you are the only one that I seem to have any interest in talking to," Walt replied simply. "It is getting quite noisy here, isn't it?"
I furrowed my eyebrows, confused about the question. It wasn't.
"I should give you a tour," he insisted. "A chance to step away from the noise."
He touched my upper arm, gently guiding me to the stairs. As I walked by him, his hand slid down my arm. His hand brushed mine but made no attempt to grab it. It was merely a moment of skin touching skin.
"And a way to limit potential disruptions."
Disruptions. Not distractions. It was one word, but it was a choice of words that I would not soon forget.
I followed Walt through the halls of the manor mindlessly. He would explain the details but wouldn't disclose anything else. No history about it.
Imagine explaining parts of your childhood home. You wouldn't only say that there was a staircase. You would say that this staircase was where your siblings and you slid down in a sleeping bag and almost put a hole in the wall.
Walt didn't talk about memories.
So, I didn't ask.
"It's a beautiful home," I commented as we stepped away from another room that looked like it was out of some high-budget period piece. "I can see why you have so much pride in it."
"It's not perfect," he replied.
I chuckled as I looked at him. "It's pretty close."
"Believe me, this place would be much better if it were less empty," he said, turning to me. "I have not had much luck finding someone to share this space with me."
I slowly nodded. I wasn't sure how to reply to that.
"Here," he stepped over to one of the doors. I followed him.
It was a study of some kind. A desk, bookshelves lined with stories that I couldn't read the titles of, there was a window seat, and a fireplace was along one of the walls.
"What do you think," Walt asked.
"It's lovely," I replied, stepping inside as I admired it all.
"I had a suspicion that you would enjoy this room," he sounded proud of himself.
"Based on..."
"Not sure," I looked at him as he shrugged at me. "Perhaps... instinct."
"Instinct?" I emphasized the word as I repeated it. I bit off the 't' at the end.
"Perhaps I kept this room because fate knew that you would find your way here," he continued. "Maybe we were always destined to meet."
"You are using the idea of soulmates?"
A smirk tugged at his lips again. "I quite like that word. Thank you for suggesting it."
This time, I didn't stop myself from scoffing at him.
"What?"
"Soulmates, destiny, a personal tour," I listed. "You talk about life like it's a gothic romance novel."
He furrowed his eyebrows.
"You never disclose your past yet want to know every detail of mine..."
"I don't think I should be blamed for you being intriguing," he replied. "Look at you now. You stand with perfect posture. Every word seems so carefully selected. You almost float when you move. It is natural that one would want to know everything about you."
I shook my head, trying to ignore how much I enjoyed the compliments.
"I have known you for a matter of hours, yet I feel closer to you than I have to most people that I've met," he stepped closer to me. "If you were to say that the world revolved around you and not the sun, then I would believe it."
"Do you always play this mysterious, troubled yet romantic character, or did you put it on especially for me," I asked as I walked around the room. I looked at him over my shoulder.
He seemed stunned at my question. As if this had interrupted whatever plan he had. Whatever normal routine he had known had been thrown off by a singular question.
"Are you always so cynical?" he countered, following my steps.
"Cynical or cautious?"
"Have I given you a reason to be cautious?"
I stopped by the fireplace in the room. "Not so much you."
"Is that right," he stopped in front of me.
"I merely have too much experience with men who try to use the language of hopeless romantics in the hopes of furthering their own agendas," I shrugged.
"What agendas are those," he asked.
"Usually getting laid."
He let out a shocked scoff at my bluntness. "I see."
I kept my eyes trained on his as he stepped closer to me. It wasn't by much. If I hadn't been paying attention, I'm not sure that I would have ever noticed it.
"And does my agenda seem to be the same as others?" his grin softened, looking like it was barely there.
I took a moment, taking a breath as I tried to find some kind of answer in his eyes. There was something behind them. Some spark of something. I could have excused it as amusement or entertainment, but there was more. Some kind of darkness just barely swirling around his iris.
His smirk began to grow again at my prolonged silence. "Well..."
"I don't know," I finally confessed. "I want to say yes, but..."
"But?"
"There's something about you," I explained. "Something... different. Almost strange."
"Mysterious?"
I chuckled at him turning my own word against me. "Sure. Mysterious."
"I'll make you a deal," he stepped even closer. A step that I would have never missed, no matter much I was or wasn't paying attention. "One night with me. If I show to be pursuing some kind of agenda that you have no interest in, then you can end the night and walk away. Never think of me again."
"And if I don't call for an end to the night?" I raised an eyebrow at him.
Walt leaned forward. I could feel his breath skating across my skin. Goosebumps traced my arms as a shiver crawled up my spine. It was the closest I had been to another person in a very long time.
"Your choice," he said simply before leaning back.
His whisper had been a quiet test. A test to see if he could pull the same reaction out of me that he had dragged out of so many people before me.
As he leaned back, I spotted that swirl of darkness again. This time, it was stronger.
But I found myself too distracted by him to care.
Too distracted by whatever plan he would have for the night. Whatever image he had tried to paint in my mind with merely two words. I would never admit it, but the mysterious, romantic character was working on me.
Perhaps that was the only reason I had agreed to the night with him.
Or perhaps my reluctance had been an anticipated part of his agenda all along.
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Navigation Guide
What I Write For
Some Original Characters
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princessbettina · 1 year ago
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4th of July Kisses Headcanons-Walter Deville x Fem!Reader
Happy 4th of July, everyone!!
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I'm not really a big fan of this holiday, especially because of the annoyingly loud fireworks. They freak me out because of how loud they are, and I think they aren't necessary, in my opinion. Anyways, one way to cope if you will and feel more at ease with them was to write this Walter story/headcanon story.
The scene in the Invitation where the fireworks go off as Walt and Evie get to know each other, which leads to them sharing a kiss really inspired me to write this and the idea of it has started to relax my nerves a bit about fireworks in general. If you have the same anxious fear of fireworks, then I hope this short story fic helps! <3
Warnings: None-Kissing and fluff. I apologize if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes in this.
Divider Credit: saradika on Tumblr
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When meeting Walter and the rest of the family, and finding out who and what they truly were, you never imagined that celebrating world holidays such as the 4th of July, would be a part of your new vampire lifestyle, but it was.
Yes, when you and Walt officially tied the knot, there were fireworks-both figuratively and literally. Especially when you both shared a kiss or two.
At first, you didn't mind the fireworks, but as the years went on celebrating the 4th, you developed a fear of them. Maybe it was because of how loud they appeared to be? Whatever the reason, you couldn't put your finger on it.
When Walter got word of your fear, he did everything in his power to protect you and help relax your nerves. He would first gently pull you close to him, wrapping an arm around your waist and the base, center of your back as you did the same for him too.
"Darling, it's alright. The fireworks won't harm you. Trust me, you're safe." Walt reassured you, his thumb gently caressing your face, causing you to blush.
You then smile up at him before resting your head on his shoulder, "I know, I know. But the popping and banging noises from them sound like I'm doomed and in grave danger from far away in the distance. Maybe that's why they scare me."
Walter nodded his head, softly smiling down at you. Letting you know that he understands and that your fear is valid, "You have nothing to fear, my love. Fireworks are like a mini soiree in the sky."
You playfully rolled your eyes as Walt and you both chuckled together. Lifting your head up, you gently booped his nose, "You're too funny, Walt Bae. Thank you for being so supportive. I love you."
"Anything for you, darling. I love you too." Walter hummed softly while planting a kiss on your neck.
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Another helpful thing Walter did to help you was giving you kisses. Kisses anywhere. He knew just how much you enjoyed and loved it when he kissed you.
When your least favorite holiday rolled around again this year,and the fireworks began, Walter politely pulled you aside, and excused both himself and you from the fancy and festive party / guests and traveled with you to his pottery / ceramics office building, you enjoyed getting to spend time in that room, especially with your husband.
Taking a few deep breaths and sighing in relief was just what you needed as soon as you stepped into the space. Walt, a few steps behind you as he closed the door and traveled to your side in a matter of seconds. The fireworks grew louder from the outside.
"Thank you for bringing me here. I always feel calmer when I'm either with you and in this room, and I'm definitely feeling a slight improvement." You winked at him, causing him to blush and smirk flirtatiously at you.
"I'm so honored to hear that. I think I know something that could help you even more, darling." Walter chirped quickly as he began to look deeply into your eyes.
You quickly caught onto his gorgeous ocean like gaze and began blushing when you caught his eyes shift down to your lips. "Oh yeah? You turning off the fireworks or stopping them all together, Walt Bae?"
"Not exactly what I was going to suggest. Would you like me to turn them off? I can gladly do that if you think it would help, my love." Asked Walter, tilting his head slightly as he continued to look deep into your eyes.
You playfully shook your head and giggled. You knew that Walter knew that you were just messing around with him. You knew he had something else in mind, and you couldn't wait for it. "What were you going to suggest?"
Walt playfully raised an eyebrow and giggled, "Your favorite, and that is a kiss. How about this, how many fireworks go off is how many kisses you'll receive."
You instantly blushed once more after hearing those words your husband said. You playfully and then flirtatiously smirked at him and began to lean towards Walt near his ear, "What are you waiting for? Please do it, lovey." You whispered with pleading eyes, showing him that your fear of the fireworks going off right outside was beginning to creep up in you.
Thankfully getting the message, Walt flirtatiously smirked back at you and got closer to you too, "Ask and you shall receive, darling." Was the last thing Walter whispered to you before he filled the gap on top of your lips.
Your fear immediately washed away and became a blur as the kiss continued and deepened. Walter always had some kind of magic when he kissed you. Maybe it's a part of him being a vampire or something, but you absolutely loved it either way.
The fireworks continued to pop more outside but that didn't seem to bother you anymore, your mind was focused on the kisses that were being shared with your husband and your self and honestly you wished this kiss would last forever.
Bonus: When you slowly started to come back to reality and your ears picked up the loud fireworks right outside, you anchored onto Walt's arm and whispered, "I just heard four of them go off, does that mean what I think it does, lovey?"
Chuckling softly to himself as his blushy smirk appeared again, Walt whispered, "You're absolutely right. Smart and good girl, you are, my love."
You flushed to yourself and felt like your face was on fire after hearing what Walt replied with. This extremely handsome and sly vampire who just so happened to be your husband, definitely knew what he was doing to always get you going, if you know what I mean, and you loved every single second of it.
"Four fireworks in a row equals four kisses for my beautiful darling, Y/n." Walt whispered quickly to you before kissing you again and taking you away from your thoughts and anxious thoughts once again.
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madmanwonder · 1 year ago
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Prompt
Fusion AU: carribean pirate AU x monster girl AU.
Crossover AU: my hero academia x my little pony.
Muses: princess celestia x izuku midoriya x princess luna.
Captain izuku "deku" midoriya, of the one for all crew sees two possible hostile ships getting closer from both sides. He recognizes both as the ones belonging to his old mentors in piracy: the captain of "the princess of the sun", celestia the sphinx. And the captain of "the princess of the night" luna the lycanthrope.
While hurt, he doesn't understand why his masters would try to take him down... until his privates Shoto and inform him that on the telescopes they see both ships having ceremonies on board, the their respective captain having stylized wedding dresses... also the signs say that izuku is the groom... Walt ¿what?
Note: Celestia and Luna are Elder Devil, with Celestia. This is how they look but imagine with them with the trademark of Elder Devil
Captain Izuku "Deku" of the One for All Crew saw two possible hostile ships getting closer and closer from both side of the ship, leaving him and his crew trap between the high-tech, dreadnought-level pirate ship.
He look at the sail and saw it was the emblem of ""The Princess of the Sun" and "The Princess of the Night" captained by Celestia the Sphinx and Luna the Lycanthrope. His old ex-mentor in the way of piracy.
"W-Why would they do this to me?" Izuku asked hurt and confuse by them trying to take him down after he become so close to the sisters who had made him the pirate king he had become.
That until his private Shoto Todoroki speak up. "Captain. You might want to look at the telescope and you will get your answer why they are trapping us."
Confused and little bit wary about the strange respone from his cool-headed, stoic private whom handled him the telscope to let him see what he was talking about. He see both ship having a strange having ceremonies on board, the their respective captain having stylized wedding dresses and two signs that had the words...
MARRY ME MY CUTE IZU-CHAN~!
MAKE ME YOUR ETERNAL WIFE, LORD IZUKU
Izuku...was stunned. Unable to believe what he was seeing. Not seeing a sudden betrayal of his mentor...it was impromptu marriage ceremonies and he was groom.
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samarashoot · 2 years ago
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a tentative 2023 reading list (bolded = books i already own and therefore should start with) (crossing them off as i finish them)
fiction:
babel, or the necessity of violence: an arcane history of the oxford translators' revolution – r.f. kuang
the best liars in riverview – lin thompson
bitter – akwaeke emezi
devil house – john darnielle
luda – grant morrison
a memory called empire – arkady martine
orlando – virginia woolf
piranesi – susanna clarke
the return of the king – j.r.r. tolkein
the summer book – tove jansson
a tale for the time being – ruth ozeki
an unkindness of ghosts – rivers solomon
the vanishing half – brit bennett
a wrinkle in time – madeleine l'engle
when the angels left the old country – sacha lamb
nonfiction:
all boys aren't blue – george m. johnson
art as experience – john dewey
crits: a student manual – terry barrett
cruising utopia: the then and there of queer futurity – josé esteban muñoz
faux queen: a life in drag – monique jenkinson
major labels: a history of popular music in seven genres – kelefa sanneh
neo-burlesque: striptease as transformation – lynn sally
please kill me: the uncensored oral history of punk – legs mcneil & gillian mccain
queercore: how to punk a revolution – liam warfield
raising free people: unschooling as liberation and healing work – akilah s. richards
releasing the imagination: essays on education, the arts, and social change – maxine greene
side affects: on being trans and feeling bad – hil malatino
they can't kill us until they kill us – hanif abdurraqib
ties that bind: familial homophobia and its consequences – sarah schulman
why fish don't exist – lulu miller
comics:
ducks – kate beaton
nausicaa of the valley of the wind – hayao miyazaki
nimona – nd stevenson
on a sunbeam – tillie walden
the prince and the dressmaker – jen wang
poetry:
deaf republic – ilya kaminsky
don't call us dead – danez smith
home is not a country – safia elhillo
postcolonial love poem – natalie díaz
salmon song and other wet poems – walt curtis
picture books:
the nightlife of jacuzzi gaskett – brontez purnell
we are water protectors – carole lindstrom
when we were alone – david a. robertson
the cot in the living room – hilda eunice burgos
x: a fabulous child's story – lois gould
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disneytva · 6 months ago
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Variety Interviews Ayo Davis, Meredith Roberts And Emily Hart On Disney Television Animation's 40th Anniversary And What To Expect On From The Past, Present And Future
40 years ago, Disney TVA was founded on the heels of challenging outcomes with features “The Fox and the Hound” and “The Black Cauldron.”
Initially, Disney TVA was restricted from using established Disney legacy characters, but nevertheless had huge successes with new shows like “The Wuzzles” and “Adventures of the Gummi Bears,” both of which became popular in syndication. As time went on, DTVA was able to use its limited rights to create shows like “DuckTales” and “TaleSpin,” which featured Disney characters. Today, the slate has evolved to include shows that travel across Disney’s streaming, linear and digital platforms, including Disney+, Disney Channel, Disney Junior and the Disney Parks
Over the 40 years of the studio has collaborated with Walt Disney Imagineering to bring beloved Disney Afternoon characters to the parks as well Mickey And Minnie's Runaway Railway and AquaMouse for the Disney Wish and Disney Treasure cruises from the Disney Cruise & Ships Line as well collaborating with Disney Yellow Two Shoes Team to redesing some heritage characters for the WDW Passholder Magnets.
Disney TVA characters also have gone to the realm of live action. In 2019 Disney Channel brought Kim Possible to the live action world as a Disney Channel Original Movie in 2019. In Spring 2022, Walt Disney Studios brought Chip 'n Dale: Rescue Rangers to a new generation of fans trought a meta-driven live action/animated hybrid film which won an Primetime Emmy Award for Best Feature Film.
In April 2024, it was announced that Kiara from The Lion King II: Simba's Pride created at Disney TVA will make her live action debut on the motion capture/computer animated film "Mufasa The Lion King" with the character being voiced by Blue Ivy Carter. In Fall 2023, it was announced that Blumhouse Television and Atomic Monster where developing a live action reboot of Gargoyles for Disney+.
The future of the studio looks bright as the studio is slated to debut it's 100th show overall "StuGo" in 2025, as well new interations of beloved classics like The Proud Family, Phineas And Ferb, Sofia The First and Darkwing Duck trought revivals,reboots and spin-offs in the coming years with early talks of new interations of TaleSpin, Kim Possible and Recess since Early 2023.
“We have a wildly diverse development slate because we don’t have a house style,” says Meredith Roberts, executive vice president, television animation, Disney Branded Television and CEO of Disney Television Animation “Our styles are creator-driven, so that allows for real support of the artist or creator to fulfill his or her vision. Anything is possible, whether it's CGI. (“Monsters at Work”), hand-drawn 2D (“Big City Greens”,"Primos","Hailey's On It!"), rig-based 2D (“Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur”,"Kiff") and stop-motion (“Mickey Saves Christmas”,"Rhona Who Lives By The River".). Roberts continues, “We really try and solve all the problems and develop it. We look at the scripts and the story arcs. Every project has to have a strategy behind it that will complement the slate and separate it from other things. Each project has a distinct swim lane to attract an audience. And we’ve learned to meet the kids where they are, in terms of streaming and YouTube.”
Co-viewing, the viewership that happens when adults sit down to watch a DTVA show with the kids in their lives, is part of the studio’s secret sauce and long-term strategy. Many of the shows are written with jokes and plot points for both audiences so both groups will return.
“We double down on the kids and family space,” says Roberts. “We’re not just dipping a toe in the water. We’re diving in. I think we’ve seen a lot of churn with the competition, who just don’t have the patience to develop and are for this audience, which is a very specialized kid audience and co-view audience.” ("The Witchverse", "Rhona Who Lives By The River","InterCats","Fantasy Sports") Roberts reflects: “I think one of the things I’m most proud of is how stable Disney TVA has been for the last 40 years despite a lot of outside churn of the animation industry. Many of our crews feel that Disney is their forever home. I think the excitement they have to illustrate and create with this brand has been terrific because it’s harder to be funny and clean. And nowhere are we tearing down people to get that laugh. I think that’s the beauty of a Disney animated show.”
DTVA also sought to meet kids where they are by making their audience — which is made up of the most diverse generation in history — feel seen, with series such as “Elena of Avalor,” which featured Disney’s first Latina princess, and “The Proud Family,” franchise focused on the life of a teenage Black girl.
“We do have an amazing insights team that are constantly in the field, giving us general information about how kids are watching content, what they’re into,” Emily Hart (VP of Current and Development - Disney Junior) says. “Some of those things are evolving, as we know the ways kids consume content is changing. But there are some universal truths about kids, and it’s great to have that reinforced. Kids still like a lot of the same things that we like. So, there’s a combination that we’re always tracking with every new idea, and we do pilot testing. We get to sit down and talk about the content, and we invite our creators in so they can see the kids talking about it because they’re the audience and they’re the truest test of if the story is going to work.”
Ayo Davis, president of the Disney Branded Television and VP of Current and Development at Disney Television Animation says the division is a “driving force” for memorable kids and family entertainment.
“All of us at Disney Branded Television are so proud of the studio’s 40-year legacy as it continues to entertain future generations with shows like ‘Kiff,’ ‘Big City Greens’ and ‘Mickey Mouse Clubhouse 2.0" --- Davis says.
Those creators who come to DTVA often stay for a long time, partnering with the studio on a variety of different projects or expanding on a hit and reimagining it for the next generation of viewers. “The Proud Family” was a standout in 2001 on Disney Channel. Creator and executive producer Bruce W. Smith is now working on the Emmy-winning “The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder,” which is based on the original series. The show follows Penny Proud as she navigates family life and her own childhood.
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“Being at Disney TVA has allowed me to realize all my artistic dreams,” says Bruce W. Smith. “As a kid, you always have hopes, thoughts, dreams, ideas and characters that can help lay out those ideas in your head. Disney has allowed me to really tap into my creative instinct, at the end of the day, you have to learn how to trust yourself. Meredith Roberts has been a true shepherd for me in all of this, allowing me to stretch my wings. Because of her belief in me and my ideas, she’s really allowed me to blossom as an artist. All that happened at DTVA.”
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“They really seem to be a place that welcomes your ideas,” Dan Povenmire says of Disney TVA. “They want to find people with real strong ideas of the stories they want to tell, and then they let them tell those stories for the most part. They seem to put storytelling and characters over anything. With [‘Phineas and Ferb’], we would write jokes for the kids and the adults in the room because we knew the adults would be there too. We were just careful not to do any double entendres.”
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leam1983 · 1 year ago
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Oh (no) Canada...
We've made ourselves some pasta salad and some deviled eggs, and Walt thought he'd break ground by introducing us to Maria Chapdelaine, the 2020 adaptation of Louis Hémon's 1910s novel on the long-suffering nature of your average French Canadian Catholic settler.
To be fair, he knew what to expect and pointed a finger at me. "Don't spoil it for me or Sarah, Mister French Literature degree!" he'd said, while bringing his slice of Key Lime pie to slowly peck at it over the movie's runtime.
I'm not about to give anyone who could read this an expert class, but let's just say that the early twentieth century was one that saw Eastern Canada be oppressively stifled by our Catholic priesthood, to the point of instilling gonzo virtues in the local literary output - such as the notion that a self-respecting colonist moved way up north into Pine Country, hacked foundations out of soil that never completely thaws using primitive tools and then spent a precious few months out of the entire year cultivating a few veggies out of the hardscrabble, with the end-goal of either covering his loan for his lot and tools or dying a good, long, agonizing and Christian death while the sawbones is trying to push a frustrated gelding through fifteen inches of snow. The priest got to you first if you were lucky, you were given your Last Rites and, well, that was it.
So. In this context, we find young and demure Maria Chapdelaine, settled in a verdant hellhole I'd call the Saguenay Lac-Saint-Jean region generations prior to modern-day logging camps and factories. As the exact same spot today is heavily industrialized outside of the pine preserves, but back then, it basically was a clean slate. For people from Montreal or Quebec City, the North was their second Klondike of choice: either you moved down to the States to adapt to the Big City or you abandoned civilization out of the honestly unproven notion that you could just Harvest Moon your way to prosperity.
Maria is sixteen, marriageable, demure, soft-spoken - and absolutely gonzo for a Métis trapper called François Paradis. He represents the 1910s Judeo-Christian ideal in the region, the "Civilized Wild Man" with all the virtues needed to thrive in Society and all the backbone and gumption you'd need to stake out your own fortune in an inhospitable environment. He loves her in the same way - desperately. She hasn't obtained her father's consent, however, so nothing happens. Nothing happens for long enough, in fact, that François up and dies in those pine-strewn wastes after betraying his status as a supposedly-flawless tracker. Maria is beyond distraught, but her social conditioning holds fast. She's the second woman of the household, so her grief only shows at night.
The problem is, Paradis hadn't proposed to her. He hadn't so much as engaged her, either, so it's effectively a love being pined for out of wedlock. You can imagine what the local priests, hypocrites that they are, would've thought about that.
Then comes the second john; a man going by Lorenzo Surprenant. He's the Self-Made Man, the Guy Who's Made it - or to borrow from French songwriter Bernard Lavilliers, the archetypal Tonton d'America, pulling several tall tales about Buffalo, Indiana's trolley system, its electric lights, its well-heated and lit brownstones and, well, the whole glitz and glam of the City, when all you've known is pines that are snowy about eight months out of twelve. Maria hasn't gone over the loss of her pelt-wearing Ken doll, so she responds to Lorenzo's advances noncommittally.
Finally follows Eutrope Gagnon, her neighbour by a few country miles who more or less promises a straight-line continuation of her current life. If anything, he's barely more of an optimized version of her father, as he's budgeted every purchase decades in advance and clearly has contingency plans set in place that could allow for failing crops or subpar yields to generate some profit. He has none of the first's passion, none of the second's pragmatic outlook on holding down a city-based job - and also none of the elder Chapdelaine's hangups about working on a milder lot further down south, where yields are better even if the social and moral credit of giving it a shot up north is abandoned.
If you thought she'd throw her conventions aside during a Disney musical number and confront Buffalo as a new challenge for her to undertake, you haven't really studied up on how the upper States and Provinces in the East coast were still stupefyingly Conservative as of World War One. The Roaring Twenties would improve things in cities, but only the sixties would see Progressivism fully kick the French Canadian clergy in the teeth.
As all this - the suffering of people like Maria's character, her settling for an unambitious life focused on servitude - was seeded in place by our clergy. We were born humble, made for humble lives and destined for hardship. To the Anglophones and Americans went tall tale of pre- and postwar success, we were being held down and more or less morally and intellectually abused by a ruling class of stole-wearing fuckwads who were the defacto lords-o-the-manor for most lots across Quebec that weren't, in fact, in Anglophone hands.
Considering this, should you really be surprised that Quebec and Ontario are as Liberal and Progressive as they are? We didn't just cast our chains off in the Quiet Revolution - we broke them to smithereens. It makes most of us default allies to POC, to the LGBTQA+, all of it because we know precisely well what it feels like to be marginalized. We know precisely how it feels to have natural instincts, personal goals or greater hopes be considered anathema by morons with a collar who hid behind their status as divinely-anointed representatives to control local politics, stifle minds and hoard their admittedly surprising scientific knowledge base (see Jesuits and their interest in Natural Sciences, for instance) for themselves alone.
They got money, they got resources, and French Canadians were told to shut up and take it, to the point where one of our leading character archetypes in adventure serials was Maria Chapdelaine's clone!
Shut up and like it. Carry your burden nobly. Suffer for sins you know nothing of. Endure in silence, for your reward is in Heaven.
Walt's background is consequently different. He grew up reading of Ontario's own Catholic and Anglican priesthoods, but Ontario and the ROC never really had this masochistic complex on being less than nothing and remaining as such. Ontarians are Diet Americans, in a sense - same gusto, same gumption, with just a dash of extra manners inherited from their long-removed English roots. If Louis Hémon had couched his story anywhere close to Sarnia, for instance, the poor kid would've hightailed it to Buffalo without question.
So, as the movie ended, and did so with the slight alteration of Maria not giving any of the three men a definitive answer - Walt gave me a puzzled look.
"Why didn't she leave with Lorenzo? I don't get it."
"Because the story isn't concerned with making sense, Walt," I told him. "This is catechism for shiftless Frenchie kids in their mid-teens as of 1910, hawked to them by well-meaning child molesters who only really think of putting more money in the diocese's coffers by acting as money-lenders to reckless kids with a sense of adventure and some misplaced Judeo-Christian sense of duty."
Sarah, who didn't study Lit, is equally confused. "Why send anyone up north like that? The ground's no good without modern tech or hydroponics!"
I scoffed. "You think fucking priests knew this? These guys seriously thought you could pray horniness away and pray fertility into a bunch of rocks and roots. Oh, and let's not forget that this didn't concern anyone's identity as a Québécois - anyone who did this was a Canadian French; un Canadien errant."
Walt falls silent as he processes this for a few seconds. "I mean, I sort of already knew why, but after this? After seeing this, your Atheism makes a Hell of a lot more sense. Damn, I'd have kicked one of those sanctimonious pricks in the balls, too!"
So... Québécois Lit 101, or Why Catholicism is a fucking grift that's only just recently realized that people are growing increasingly harder to indoctrinate into unquestioning belief.
Which is sort of funny, seeing as you see a lot of local hardcore Atheists sort of take to a hodgepodge of various spiritual, occult or "magical" practices - but hey, they reason, as long as you're not putting more money in the pockets of some shriveled old goat in a white stole in the Vatican, it's all good, right?
I mean, I guess. It's not like Brighid or Odin the Allfather or fucking Baron Samedi have tax collectors indoctrinating people left and right, hm?
Anyway - Happy Canada Day, if you're the type to go shop at Roots.
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