one thing that lowkey infuriates me is when i see people(particularly on tik tok i dont see much of it on here because i dont go into the descendants tag like, at all) go like 'oh everyones switching up on the ror part of the franchise now'
....like EVERY franchise has bad movies, you dont call someone a poser/a switchup for being a fan of star wars since they were shown the OG movies, and they only like one of the sequels? you're not a poser/switchup if you dont like a marvel movie after being a fan of a bunch of the OG movies. its the same fucking thing, people were fans of the og series of Descendants, and then Rise of Red was poorly written and executed- so they DONT like it, and then Wicked Wonderland comes along, and it's(seems to be) properly made and budgeted, it seems fun. like no fuck that lots of people, who practically hate ROR(ME) are hype and ready for Wicked Wonderland because it actually seems FUN again?! oh no the horror! people are willing to give the series a chance!
i ripped the fuck out of ROR apart when it was in production/coming out, be happy people are willing to give Wicked Wonderland a try because it genuinely seems to be better handled than ROR
Dirty Roses (on Ao3), a Fence fanfic and Cyberpunk AU. Snippet from Chapter One featured below the cut.
Laguna Bend—2056. A family moves into the city for better job opportunities before their suburb sinks. They're lucky, yet it still takes a greater hold of their son than they would have previously imagined.
Charter Hill—2064. A boy takes his first life with his father's sword, something that always sits on the mantelpiece. He tastes blood for the first time. It's salty, dense, and stains his tongue. He needs more.
Heywood—2068. A woman gives her son his first revolver. You are allowed to be nice but not kind, she told him as he held it. Your life always comes first. Aim between the eyes only at those who deserve it.
City Center—2072. A mercenary is dragged back into the clutches of corporate life against his will. Past lives are erased, future dreams forgotten. All he knows is who he is and how to kill.
The Badlands—2073. A young nomad, running from a clan bending to the will of corporations, leaves his family behind. He doesn’t have much beyond a moral compass in a place that doesn’t believe in them.
An unlucky accident forces them all together, digging them deep in a hole without a shovel to get back out. There's hope in Night City though; either achieve your dreams, or die trying. No in between.
There was a pistol sitting in the white leather passenger seat.
It was cold to the touch from the air blowing on it. The Caliburn moved so smoothly it nearly glided across any road it touched, and even with sharp turns, the gun did not shift in position. The pistol was a Tsunami Nue—similar to the Caliburn, in that it was the best model of its kind that money could buy. The difference was sixteen hundred horsepower versus a heavyweight, hard to hide gun.
He needed to bring it in with him. That, and the shotgun in the trunk.
Nothing else should have been necessary.
Climbing out of the car into the afternoon light, he had to squint. Even with the high-grade optical implants, he wanted to keep his natural eye color, but they gave him a slight disadvantage in sunlight. Maybe next time he’d try a different color, whenever it was time to get his current optics replaced.
The shotgun was tugged from the trunk with some care, mostly to make room for the set of shells that were getting carefully layered into a bag at his hip. The Nue–Death and Taxes–was settled in a holster at his thigh.
The destination was a house at the edge of Santo Domingo. Far enough that he had to take the highway to reach it, and far enough to be a complete pain in the ass to get to. Trekking across 6th Street territory was not Aiden’s idea of a good time, especially when the Mox were practically their antithesis. Not that he was involved directly with any one gang or another, but he’d have probably pitched himself into the bay before he became a patriot in any capacity, let alone associated with self-serving vigilantes who thought their justice was the only right kind. Half of ‘em were ex-cops anyway. For whatever reason, he’d never liked the police, and the Night City ones in particular he held a special grudge against.
He could only hope and pray there weren’t any 6th Street lunatics in the building when he ran through it.
The street was dead quiet behind him as he climbed up the steps and stood on the creaky wooden porch, watching the windows as he tested the handle. Part of him was surprised—usually there were at least a few people lingering in their front yards with barbecues out, or someone walking down the street, but maybe it was too hot and humid for that. The sky promised rain later, but how much of it was debatable.
With a quiet click, the door creaked open.
There was a radio somewhere, but it wasn’t in sight.
Bringing the shotgun up, nestling it in his shoulder, he continued forward as silently as possible. It was an effort to keep quiet—debris from life was scattered all over the floor. Old boxes, music, empty takeout containers, wrappers… If Aiden weren’t so light on his feet to begin with, he may have been concerned.
No, scratch that, even still he was concerned. Cover was hard to take if he needed it, which left him out in the open as a fresh, six-foot-something target should anyone decide to jump him. The radio was gradually getting louder as he continued through the house, at its loudest when he approached the stairs that descended downwards.
Slipping down the stairs, he stopped at the foot, crouching down low to make himself harder to immediately spot. People were down here, a significant amount of them. Not enough to freak him out, but enough to briefly make him consider losing his cool. The shotgun fit eight shells in it at any given point; he wouldn’t have to immediately reload after blowing straight into the first guy he saw. That gave him hope.
Can someone explain to my, why as I was falling asleep, my brain decided that it was going to focus on a cursed AU, a Twilight AU.
But this time with vampire Steve, hotboi hot topic of conversation amongst the school, desired by almost everyone and charming, very charming, but always keeping himself at a distance from everyone, except for his own family. The Harringtons. It’s some kind of weird adoption thing, the school has decided. Steve has a brood of kids living with him in his big house, some people think it’s a cult thing. They all moved here from a tiny rural town, after all. Or it’s some weird small town America thing.
And then there’s the two girls. Robin and Chrissy. The student body can’t decide if they’ve got some kind of thruple thing going on because the two girls are always so close with each other, so intimate and like… there’d have to be a boy in between that, right? Because otherwise it’s just gay. And like he’s constantly around them?
The heteronormativity of the rumours is laughable.
Steve’s a jock extraordinaire, and while he’s good at his sports, he doesn’t get close with anyone on his team, keeps them all at a distance like he does everyone else.
Enter Eddie.
Weird, eccentric, brown curly haired, big doe eyed Eddie who just moved in with Uncle Wayne.
Yes ‘w’ actually I made this months ago when Llama made her faesona (theyr so pretty) and she wanted to pair her faesona with mine so hehe… 👉 👈 (made these way back in June oops)
I have blue awlking wings! (Llama also helped me pick wings hehe)
I (my sona?) is very much suited for the summer court, but her bff lives in the winter court. They hang out together but Aka gets cold fast…
I like how you wrote the main resident rooms,💓 but could we see the proxies and maybe slender rooms?🙏💙
YES! You absolutely can! Part 1 (from forever ago) HERE!
Creepypasta Bedroom Headcanons (pt. 2)
Ft. Slenderman, Tim "Masky" Wright, Brian "Hoodie" Thomas, Toby Rogers, and Kate the Chaser
Slenderman
There are a couple of places that Slenderman can be found throughout the manor
A majority of the time, he only occupies a couple of different spaces: His Office/Study, His Sleeping Chambers, The Archives, and on rarer occasions, his garden!
It is actually a rare (and usually quite terrifying) sight to see him pacing the halls of his manor, rather than just...already existing in the spaces he needs to be in
The main place people see him is his office, so in all honesty it's a little weird to think about him sleeping....
Jane is the only person who has seen Slender's sleeping quarters, because in my au she is practically his right hand man when it comes to the operations of the manor
The other denizens of the manor have only seen the outside of Slenderman's bedroom
The door is as large and imposing as the main entrance of the manor, with intricate details carved into the heavy dark wood. The metallic embellishments are aged brass, discolored from years of wear
If one looks closely, they can pick up on the remnants of faded runes etched into the door - a dead language that no one can determine
The room itself is grand and spacious
Inside, the room is illuminated only by sparse candlelight. Shadows cling to the corners of the room, draping down the vintage wallpaper like oily water damage
Tall imposing bookshelves stretch to the ceilings on both sides of the room, seemingly vanishing into the thick blackness above. Odd bits and bobs can be found between the bookspines if one looks long enough; hands petrified to stone used as book ends, embalmed jars, fantastical flora, and odd artifacts make up his eclectic collection
It smells dark in there too, like mahogany cologne and incense, and it sticks in one's nostrils far after you've left
To no one's surprise, he has an abnormally large bed. The mattress alone could probably fit 4 Slenderman-sized people comfortably, but Slenderman does not share his bed with anyone
It is also a canopy style bed, with black-out drapes cloaking the perimeter of his resting place
There is sparse furniture throughout the space; bedside tables, a chest, a plush velvet chair....none of these objects appear as if they've been touched in centuries
Layered antique rugs cover the floor, exuding an aura of ancient wealth
And a lone framed portrait is tacked onto one of the walls, covered by a dusty sheet
THE PROXY CABIN
In my AU, the Proxies are not allowed to live at the mansion. Instead, they are forced to hunker down in a rotting structure just North West of the manor. This two-story cabin is crumpling apart, and the only reason it's still standing is due to Tim's upkeep, the large tree that grows through the structure.
Tim/Masky
Tim has the smallest room
It has a window, which is perpetually cracked slightly ajar - not because it's broken, which is typically the norm when it comes to the old place, but because he likes the air
An ash tray and a fresh pack of cigarettes can always be found on the windows ledge
The walls of his room aren't gorgeous. Honestly, one might get a splinter if they rubbed their hands against it the wrong way...but Tim has put up a map of the woods to take up wall space
The photos and images he keeps in his space are minimalist at best, and are never eye-catching enough to make conversation about
The bed, which is a sad twin sized mattress on a creaky bedframe, is always neatly made with thin sheets and a singular pillow
He made his bedside table himself - scrapped together from wood he chopped and measured and cut by hand. It's not the prettiest end table, but it works just fine
He tries to keep his bedside table organized, but it's often littered with prescription bottles and various papers (a receipt from a restaurant, a hand written note, some old polaroids, etc) and a lone wooden figurine that Brian whittled for him
He keeps a digital camera in the side tables only drawer, amongst other miscellaneous keepsakes he's picked up over the years
He has a small wardrobe (which he also built himself....okay maybe with Brian's help...) where he keeps his limited repertoire of clothing - one of the drawers is already busted, so one of his flannel sleeves is loosely hanging out of it
He keeps a guitar in his room, but only plays on very rare occasions - usually Brian can convince him
Brian/Hoodie
It's no secret to anyone that Tim spends more time in Brian's room than his own, although it is a tad more cluttered than Tim would like...
The number one thing that clutters the room is clothes. Brian leaves his clothes all over the place (his room or otherwise)
Boxes of old VHS tapes clutter the corners of the room. Some of the cardboard containers have labels like '80s movies', and others have jagged scribbles that are too illegible to read
Brian has a double bed, but there is no frame. The mattress only rests upon the boxspring, and that's it.
He has navy blue sheets and a dark gray comforter. Two pillows (one with a pillowcase, the other bare) slump against the wall at the head of the mattress
A rather large first-aid kit is sprawled out on top of his dresser, which is accompanied by a small box TV and a VHS player
A humble collection of his favorite films are stacked beside the console, a couple of X rated films amongst the mix
He has an entire wall shelf with a dozen little wooden figurines lined across it - many of these figures take the apperance of animals, but others resemble the Proxies, other Denizens of the manor, and monstrous creatures of the woods
He always keeps his firearm at his bedside table, and has bullets hidden in various places within his room
Toby
Toby's room used to have a door, but after he threw his axe at it one-too-many times, Tim decided to confiscate it (or rather, it was so far beyond repair that he couldn't fix it...)
So, for privacy, a camping tarp has been nailed to the doorframe instead, acting as a makeshift curtain door
Inside, it takes one a moment for their eyes to adjust before they can figure out exactly what they're looking at
Toby likes to collect things! His room is by far the most...eclectic of the bunch
He either steals objects from his victim's houses, or he'll collect trash he finds throughout the forest. He used to bring home dusty furniture for the common areas of the Proxy cabin, but the others complained too many times....so now he has to be mindful of what he drags home
His bed is a dirty twin sized mattress, dressed with a singular sheet, three stained pillows, a faded orange sleeping bag, and three blankets
There is no bed frame or box spring, it is simply just a mattress
Propped up against the wall across from his busted mattress, is a rusty green mountain bike with super thick wheels - one of the wheels has a very obvious hole in it, which Toby has masterfully patched up with a band-aid
An electric keyboard (no batteries) is tucked in the corner, hiding behind his beaten dresser. Both are decorated with an assortment of stickers and Sharpie-drawn graffiti
His humble bookshelf is missing a leg, but he has propped it up with a cinderblock. The shelf is a like a trophy case of all sorts of bizarre possessions - a few CDs, an ash tray, a suspicious smelling box, a pair of dog tags, a flat-brim cap, a clock with a broken face, etc
A crate of old comic books sits at the base of the bookshelf
His walls are an amalgamated collage of reclaimed treasures
Street signs (a Deer X-ing, a 'Dead End' diamond, and a faded Stop sign) are nailed haphazardly to the wall, complimented by a couple of posters
Finally, balancing atop his doorframe, rests a customized license plate. It is rusted, the corner bent forward as if it had been pulled from some sort of wreckage. The plate reads simply, "4LYRA"
Kate
Kate's room is arguably worse than Toby's in regard to cleanliness
Trash is strewn about everywhere
Half drank plastic bottles, empty cans, food wrappers and paper bags contribute to the absolute pigsty that is Kate's floor
Like an island amongst the sea of garbage, she has a busted futon that she sleeps on every night
Kate sleeps with two blankets, and three pillows. I like to think she has a plushie of sorts too...maybe an old bear or stuffed rabbit that is holding together by a thread
With how she sleeps, her pillows and blankets always end up on the floor by the time she wakes up
Typically, she will try and shove the mess of her floor beneath her futon to make her space look cleaner than it actually is
Kate has total crow brain, and so like Toby she also collects things that she deems valuable
Although...her criteria for 'valuable' is questionable
For example, one time Kate found a mannequin in the woods. She brought it back to the Proxy cabin, and started placing it in random spots to scare the others. (It gives Toby the creeps...)
Trinkets litter her windowsill and clutter her bedside table - rusty keys, old coins with no denomination, loose beads, broken jewelry, lone playing cards....Kate loves it all
She's also really into physical media....CDs, cassette tapes, vinyls...Even if she doesn't have a means to play any of them, she'll collect items with the strangest cover art or weirdest names. She has an entire shelf dedicated to such things
She has a bunch of fliers and posters plastered up on her walls. A lot of these are really weird...like missing person or missing pet posters, advertisements, or newspapers....Sometimes they're of bands or movies she's never heard of or seen, but mostly she just likes filling her walls with art
No matter the season, Kate keeps a box fan in her window (even tho it doesn't work a majority of the time...) because she gets SO HOT when she sleeps
Aaaaaand that's it! Thank you so much for reading. If there's anything you guys want to see/want me to write or blubber on about, my ask box is always open! ❤️ Have a great day!
