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alienwithaguitar · 2 months

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Does anyone else think this Wilbur thing has been blown way out of proportion? First of all, I am in FULL support of Shelby and am not defending Wilbur. As a victim myself, I sympathize with her story, and I will never discredit her experiences. But this community is going to extremes that make me so fucking uncomfortable.

What people forget is that Wilbur has a record label. He CAN'T say whatever he wants. There’s a reason he made a statement not an apology, why Lovejoy hasn’t said anything, why he never mentioned Shelby by name, why he didn’t apologize- because making promises can get you in legal trouble. One of the first things you learn about car accidents is to not apologize, even if it's your fault, because that will be used against you in court. Admissions can even get you in trouble for things you didn’t do, if the other party decides to push for that. He’s almost certainly not allowed to apologize because his record label can't risk the legal trouble. We can excuse Quackity for making poor statements for the same reason, so why can't we keep that energy here?

Wilbur has always been an unstable man. As a long time fan and someone who heavily relates to YCGMA’s themes of being awful and feeling like you’ll never get better, he struggles with a lot of mental problems. His persona has been built around manic, destructive tendencies and that’s something that’s been a part of his brand for YEARS. He's brought up drugs and alcohol use in the past, and one of his closest friends recently passed away, which certainly only added to things. Mental health isn't an excuse, but it is a REASON. (Listen to Mammalian Sighing Reflex and tell me it doesn’t resemble compilations of artists deteriorating as they lose their sanity)

I don’t understand how anyone can actively want him to kill himself. Or wish that he gets worse. You can’t claim to be an advocate for mental health and helping victims if you don’t want EVERYONE involved getting serious help. Wilbur needs therapy, he needs to atone if either of them want to heal. Nobody has to forgive him, or welcome him back into their life, but he absolutely deserves the chance to fix himself to ensure this doesn’t happen AGAIN.

If you can seriously say that you want him to get worse, and you don’t care about his mental health, then you DON'T care about victims. Leaving a destructive man to rot alone WILL lead to repeat events in the future. As someone with multiple diagnoses for debilitating mental illnesses, when I was at my lowest, I hurt myself. I hurt other people. Mental illness isn’t cute shit you put in your bio. It's terrifying, isolating, exhausting. And if I wasn’t given a chance at therapy and healing, I could have continued hurting people for the rest of my life.

These tweets just confirm none of you actually care about mentally ill people, it's all situational and performative. This is the most clear cry for help I've seen and you're feeding into it. Most of you will never understand what debilitating mental illness is like, how easy it is to hurt people you care about. You can hate him, be pissed, wish he never did it, deplatform him, I AM TOO! But nobody involved would be happy if he killed himself. These are real people, not characters in a soap drama. Actively wishing for him to kill himself is disgusting. If you care at all about Shelby getting closure, Wilbur needs to understand what he did wrong and fix it, so she can move on.

Also the lying I’ve seen is so stupid. The spotify stuff is fake. Anyone who’s a casual fan of Wilbur has known for a long time that’s not his spotify account. It’s a fan account that posts unofficial versions of his songs. So easily debunked and yet people still hold it against him??

Again, I'm in FULL support of Shelby. I fully condemn his actions, and as a victim I'm so proud of her for speaking up. But at the end of the day, we’re people. I'm glad many of you have never had the kind of debilitating downward spiral that leads to you hurting yourself and others, but if you think that makes it okay to wish an unstable man takes his life, then you can’t say you’re a mental health advocate. Take care of yourselves, please think twice about your own morals if you're sitting around hoping fans and creators commit suicide.

If you are one of the people actively waiting for him to kill himself, I pray that you never find yourself hurting others at your lowest, and I pray that people show you the kindness you didn't give to him.

#not a wilbur defense post #but its still important to consider #wilbur #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #shelby #shelby shubble #shubble

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therandomartmaker · 9 months

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(In Case I Don’t See You) Good Afternoon, Good Evening and Goodnight.

DPxDC

After a reveal, things go strange for Danny. At first, he thinks it’s just the lingering effects of having his vigilante identity out in the open. Sam and Tucker tell him he’s being paranoid, and Jazz doesn’t talk much with him because she’d left for college. She only listens to his words and talks him through the feelings, a steady presence.

It’s then that he realises that his ghosts had been showing up… regularly. Not erratic and randomly, they were almost scheduled; he’d checked once, and they had always shown up when the time was even. He’d said this to Sam and Tucker, Tucker looked concerned but Sam brushed him off. “They’d have to coordinate for that, Danny,” she said, “Do you really think Skulker wouldn’t take every chance possible to fight you?”

His ghosts were getting more agitated. It wasn’t hard to defeat them, they were just. Angrier. They also went down easier, but got back up faster. They also were disjointed in their banter, and it got worse as time went by, fights quieter and more… emotion filled.

It’s only when Danny spots several white vans nearby his fights that he realised he’d forgotten about the GIW.

Danny rushed home, to the portal- he’s unlucky, or perhaps rather fortunate, that he stumbles upon the GIW in his home, talking to his parents. It’s an easy decision to turn invisible.

“Keeping Patient Zero in the Truman cage is working well, but it might be catching on. Unscheduled fights give us more subjects, so you’ll be lent Subject-E and Subject-SK in two days, in the private laboratory, as they are currently useless in field and hinder the process.”

Patient Zero? Subject-E and Subject-SK? Useless? What process?

Truman Cage? …Danny knew that movie. Watched it with Jazz a few years before, because Jazz had a project on it, wanted to do inquiry on unethical ‘imprisonment’ and isolation.

Static buzzed through the air, and Danny heard the GIW agent pick up an ecto-proof walkie talkie. “Report, Patient Zero has been missing for two minutes, unknown whereabouts, may be heading or already at FW Household.”

Danny swore mentally, flying away to the roof of the Nasty Burger, still invisible.

Shit. What were they doing- what kind of shit had they already done?

…What could Danny do to stop it?

—

Batman stared at the report in his hands. Phase One of the Ghost Investigation Ward’s plan was going well, to capture and learn everything they can about ectoplasmic beings and a ‘villainous creature’ that has taken control of a small town in Illinois. Supposedly, the ‘creature’ was a volatile destructive being that repeatedly put the town through constant attacks.

Everything about it smelt fishy, and he’d found about the ‘GIW’ was flimsy, and a strangely large amount of money was being siphoned into it. The Fenton research being used was also something that shouldn’t’ve been published, biased and clearly contradictory in areas.

The information blockout was just asking for investigation.

sorry that this isn’t more for the story! I may write more for this, but idm this being used as a prompt post either! If you respond to this in a separate post, please tag me, i like to see what y’all make, don’t just link this post and run y’all. Also, i’m like 80% sure someone’s made this already or at least done something similar, so if someone could find and link that, that’d be awesome

On a side note; some notes for this specific thing, but freedom is encouraged and this is mainly for myself because ik i’ll forget about this.

The GIW learnt danny’s id before the reveal and figured out very quickly that they wouldn’t be able to do anything to him because he’s legally human and he hasn’t had biological testing to make sure he isn’t human. They got ghost confirmation via the fenton parents after the public reveal, but had already informed the fentons of the possibility of danny being a ghost and proposed the ‘Truman Plan’ to them.

The plan was to set up another ghost portal with coordinates set to the same area the fenton’s portal lets out and recapture whichever ghosts danny lets go there, and this works exponentially well. They gain a bunch of speech capable ghosts to experiment on, and decide quickly that they’d start ways to put them under control and make them stronger, in order to, eventually, capture danny.

Phase Two is weakening Danny and looking into his skillset and how to counteract it.

Phase Three is actually capturing Danny.

Danny figures out that the GIW has agents everywhere, bugs everywhere and nowhere is safe. The only people he is absolutely certain he can trust to not make the GIW aware he knows he’s entrapped is Jazz, Sam, And Tucker, but since the last tw oare in the bounds of the GIW, he can only talk to Jazz to plan (he flies up up up and calls because tucker had them up on a private network so the only risk was being overheard, really)

B only discovered the GIW while passing over recent government records, and sets up one of his disguises to visit the town, eventually.

He ‘just so happens’ to be bowled over by Danny Fenton one afternoon and sets up a white noise generator to tell the boy the JL was on his side. After all, something wasn’t right, here.

#randomartmaker writing #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #my writing

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lanitalay · 6 months

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Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 11

a/n: Things are picking uppppp

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Angst! canon typical mentions of violence. some fluff

Other Chapters

You spent an hour showing Azriel all the photos on your phone and telling him the stories behind the really silly ones. He’s fascinated by all of it: your life, your world. It’s all so foreign yet so similar to his own. You turn it off and turn to him “I feel like I talked too much” you smile sheepishly. “Not at all, I love listening to your stories” he looks around and then says “want to do something fun?”

“I don’t think this was a good idea” you are stiff as a board as Azriel leads you around the frozen Sidra. “Do they not have ice skating in your world?” One foot slides in front of the other and you almost fall flat but he keeps you upright. “Yes we do but where I lived it didn’t snow so I never did it” you shiver. “You need a thicker coat, this one won’t do” he holds your hands and skates in front of you. He spreads his wings to block out most of the wind. “Bend your knees a little” you do as he says and feel a bit more stable. “Az, I don’t mean to be a downer but can we do something else?” He chuckles, “sure” and changes course.

You’re walking up the path to the River House and linger a few steps behind Azriel, spotting a fire pit. “Let's make smores!” he doesn’t know what they are, you realize as he stares at you with no recognition in his eyes. “Come on” and drag him to the kitchen.

“Ok so you put the marshmallow on the stick and roast it until it gets melty, then you make a little sandwich with the chocolate and the crackers” you explain as you hand him a marshmallow on a stick. You involuntarily giggle as you watch him methodically twirl the stick so the marshmallow is evenly roasted. “What?” He asks “nothing”, you look back to your own marshmallow and curse when you realize it caught on fire, now it’s him who laughs.

“Try it” he looks comically large with the tiny smore in his hands “I’m sure I’ll like it”. You insist “try it!” He smiles and bites down and his eyes go wide “it’s good isn’t it?” He nods “it’s really good” you do a little dance, excited that he enjoyed it. You moan when you bite down on yours “I missed these”.

Your head is on his shoulder and his wing is wrapped around you as you watch the sun come up. “Are you going to go back with Lucien?” You suppose the bubble had to burst at some point. Reality sets in as the first rays of sunlight hit your face. “Yes” he doesn’t say anything for a while “I’ve missed you at the house” you focus on the sunrise “I’ve missed you too, but I’m doing better now” his wings shift. “What was so bad about being here?” The ice on the Sidra is sparkling now. You lift your head from his shoulder “nothing was bad. But I felt isolated and the days in the library were driving me crazy. My life revolved around the portal and getting back. I loved spending time with you and the others… but I felt like I was caged in. And in the Human Lands I’ve been able to move forward. I really like what I’m doing at the Apothecary and can see a future for myself” he nods. “You don’t see a future here? With us?” You shrug “not really. I really appreciate your friendship and all of your help but my life will be much shorter than yours… and I can’t imagine aging and withering away while all of you remain intact” his face hardens. “So what? You’ll build a life in the human lands and forget that we exist?” You knew he wouldn’t be happy with your answer but couldn’t bring yourself to lie. “I’ll never forget you, but I would like to have a regular life, similar to the one I used to have”. You can hear the house start to wake up behind you “if I asked you to stay with me, would that change anything?” You stay quiet for a moment. There was something between you, more than friendship. “No. You wouldn’t have a full life with me”. He grabs your hand “that’s not true”. A breeze ruffled the barren branches on the trees around you “yes it is, I have sixty years left if I’m lucky. We wouldn’t be able to have kids and soon enough I’d just be a burden” he turns his head to face you and you remain looking ahead. “You’d never be a burden. Not to me” taking a steadying breath you look at him “let’s just enjoy the rest of the holiday, yeah?” He thinks about it, clearly not happy about the outcome of the conversation “alright”.

“I think this is a bit excessive” you turn away from the mirror and look at Azriel. He is doing a terrible job of concealing his amusement “you need a coat”. You scowl “yes, a coat. This is more of a collection of pillows sewn together. I can barely move my arms in this, how am I supposed to ride a horse?” He can’t contain his laughter as you strain to move your arms. The coat was made for someone much taller and bigger than you but Azriel insisted you try it on. “Oh, I’m glad you are enjoying this. Help me take it off” he lifts the heavy coat from your shoulders and you wipe sweat from your brow. “That thing is like a sauna” he hands you one that looks more wearable “try this one”. It was much better than the last, lilac colored and lined with high quality wool, the outside was a flexible waterproof material “I like it”. He was smiling when you turn to him “that color suits you”.

“We’re leaving in the morning,” Lucien tells you. You knew your visit would be brief, God knows what Jurian and Vassa have gotten up to while the two of you were away, but it still stung. “Alright” Lucien walks over to where you’re sitting “you can stay if you want”. You shake your head “no, I told Muriel I wouldn’t be gone long”. He nods. “We should probably go have dinner with everyone” you stand and link your arm with his.

When you returned to the Manor you quickly rode down to the Apothecary. Not willing to sit idly as your thoughts spiraled. Muriel was happy to see you. “Hi, darlin’. How was your Solstice?” You take off your coat and go to hug her “it was really nice. How about yours?” She lets out a long breath “It was very hectic, let me tell you. The whole family got together at my little house and my niece’s baby would not stop cryin’. Poor thing had a fever the whole day”. You frown, I’m sorry to hear that '' she shrugs “he’s teethin’, not much can be done about it. That’s a pretty coat” you grin “it was a present”. Her eyebrows raise “is he handsome?” You blush “yes, very”. Who is he? Is he from the village?” You shake your head, “he lives further North”. Muriel didn’t know about your situation. She knew you lived in one of the big houses in the countryside but she did not know that your roommates were a Mortal Queen, a resurrected male and an heir of Autumn. “That’s a shame, I would’ve loved to tease you” at which you laugh and begin to work “I’m sure you’ll find other things to tease me about”.

The weather was brutal after the Solstice. Everyday got colder and colder. You had started to leave the Apothecary after lunch because the road to the Manor would become treacherous with afternoon snow and ice, some days you couldn’t go at all.

You left the shop when it had started to snow, wanting to avoid getting trapped in the small space. You weren’t expecting to be caught in a blizzard. But twenty minutes after leaving you could not see more than a foot in front of you. Panic. Fear. Cold. You did not know what to do in this situation. The only thing that did not seem completely suicidal was to stay in place and hope the blizzard passes quickly, then you could find your way home.

You never found out how long the storm lasted.

Never made your way home.

A cold blunt object struck the back of your head and the world went black before you hit the ground.

It felt like an elephant was stomping on you. You take a few breaths before attempting to open your eyes. Each movement sent a wave of pain up your spine and to your head. When you peak through half closed eyes. It was dark. Eyes open fully now and you can barely see your hand in front of your face. You’re lying on your side on cold stone floors. What the fuck. When you lift yourself on all fours the world spins and you empty your stomach immediately. Concussion. The last thing you remember is the sound of metal against something hard. My head. Your heart starts to beat faster. Reality setting in. Crawling around the room, you find that three walls are pure stone and one is a metal grate. You feel for any other injuries and sigh in relief as you realize you are fully clothed and unscathed. Your stomach drops as you hear wood creaking. Light flooding the chamber you were trapped in. Slow steps approach. Low voices murmuring. There’s more than one. You crawl to one corner and make yourself as small as you can. If you can’t run then you might as well try to hide.

“You say a new one was captured yesterday?” an authoritative voice echoes. “Yes, sir. Her capture was executed during the blizzard. The men took extra care to leave no traces” no response. “Which cell is she in?” The steps stopped “Number ten, sir”. “Very well, go prepare the horses, I’ll be done here shortly” steps fade away as whoever was there leaves. Heavy steps near the cell. You try to breathe normally but your heart is beating too fast. Even crouched on the floor you’re lightheaded. “What do we have here?” you don’t dare look up, keeping your head tightly between your arms. The voice is laced with the promise of violence. They strike against the grates of your cell. The sound makes you jump, your head lifting as your arms come out in front of you, trying to block the impact. Your eyes are shut and a few seconds pass before you open them. You clam up, recognizing the male on the other side.

“Y/n?” the male asks, genuinely confused.

Lucien had winnowed to the Manor after visiting Tamlin. Each visit was worse than the last, this time Tamlin only grunted at him, still in his beast form. It was light out when it started to snow. “Where’s y/n?” He asked Jurian “at the Apothecary”, Lucien frowned. The weather was bound to get worse and the Manor was about an hour on horseback from the shop. “I’m going to get her before she gets stuck in the blizzard” Jurian nodded, and said teasingly “I should go with you, humans are still uneasy around your kind”. It was the truth, there were humans that still feared the fae. Lucien couldn’t blame them. Generations of fearing his kind and the recent war gave them more than enough reason to harbor animosity towards them.

He waited down the street from the shop while Jurian went to tell y/n they had to leave. “Muriel said she already left” his shoulders sagged in relief, “she must be home by now” and winnowed back to the Manor.

Lucien suspected that something was off when the horse, his horse, was missing from the stables. He decided to wait half an hour before going out to look for her himself.

He knew that something went wrong when the horse showed up in the middle of the blizzard. Without a rider.

Vassa confirmed that something had happened when the sun set. “It was a convoy, they knocked her out before she knew what was happening. I followed them until they reached one of the tunnels”.

“Why am I here?” Your voice is uneven. Eris’s eyes are wide “my father ordered that you be captured”.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but you won’t be here for long” his voice was gentle now, you had never heard him speak like that. Most of your interactions were sarcastic retorts. The door opens again “Sir?”

“I’ll be up in a minute” he shouts to the same voice from before then looks at you again “are you hurt?” You nod “I think I have a concussion”. His nostrils flare “anything else?” You shake your head. He looks towards the door again then back at you “come closer”. You manage to get up and walk towards him, leaning on the grates as the world spins. He whispers “I’ll be back later. Do not speak to anyone. Don’t react if someone comes in. You being here must be a mistake, so just lay low and I’ll get you out soon” you nod “where am I?” He sighs “this is the Autumn Court dungeons. I’ll be back soon. Remember what I told you”. He steps away from the cell and walks towards the exit. You have no choice but to huddle in the corner and wait.

Eris was utterly terrified when he saw that she was his father’s new project. She is just a human girl, he thought as he walked up the stairs and out of the dungeons. What business could Beron want with her? She won’t survive a week down there, let alone torture at the experienced hands of his father. He did not want to think of what would have happened to her if it had been one of his brothers that had made the round today. Eris cut his routine patrol of the Forest House grounds short and made his way to his fathers study.

Three firm knocks on the mahogany door “enter”, his father commanded. Closing the door behind him he waited to be addressed. “Sit” Beron was reading over some papers, only after he was finished did he look up. “What is it?” Eris remained still, his posture perfectly straight, his face poised in an unreadable mask. “I saw the human girl in the dungeons” Beron leaned back in his chair, relaxed “and?” Eris continues “she seems irrelevant, why waste the time and resources to retrieve her?” The low chuckle that escapes Beron’s lips makes him nauseous. “She seems to be the Night Court’s newest pet. I thought I’d have some fun”. “How is she involved with the Night Court?” He shrugs “I’ll find out when she and I get the chance to talk” it takes more effort that Eris would like to keep his rage unnoticed. He stands and before he is able to leave his father’s voice stops him “when you see Lucien again tell him his choice of company is utterly disappointing” he nods and takes his leave, winnowing to his private wing on the Forest House.

Once he is alone he runs his hands through his hair and lets out the string of curses he had been holding in. The thought of his father being alone with her for even a second makes him sick. He knows she lives with Lucien and he knows she has ties with Night. How long has he been watching her? He needs to get her food and water, Beron would let his political hostages starve for less. Being associated with Rhysand would be enough to have her flogged.

It's after midnight and the house is dead quiet. Eris winnows from the kitchen to the dungeons without making a sound. He creates a fireball that hovers in front of him for light. The dungeons are pitch black without it. When he makes it to her cell he is relieved to see that she remains untouched. He needs to get her out soon. “Hi” her soft voice brings him out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry I took so long, but here” he hands her a bowl of warm stew through the grates. “Thank you” she reaches for it and immediately digs in “here is some water as well” he says and places the bottle on the floor. “My father knows about your ties to the Night Court” she stops eating and looks straight at him “he has plans to… question you” she gulps. “I need you to tell me everything. He won't tell me why he’s keeping you here and I need to know what he knows so I can get you out” he can see her thinking about what to say. Weighing her options.

She takes a breath and tells him everything.

The next day, Eris winnows to the Manor of Exiles. He knocks on the door and is disappointed to see Lucien on the other side. He knows where y/n is but a part of him hoped it had been a hallucination, some sort of roundabout fever dream. “What is it?” His brother has clearly not slept. “Y/n is in the Autumn Court dungeons awaiting questioning” Lucien pales and Eris goes on “Beron has been spying on her for a while, he is aware of her, and your, ties to the Night Court and is going to use her as leverage”. He follows his brother to the sitting room and is forced to repeat what he said to Jurian. “How do we get her out?” Eris explains the situation: Beron’s special interest in you, the guard outside of the dungeons and the grates that only open if his father wills it. “You have to tell Rhysand” that wasn’t a conversation Lucien wanted to have. He didn’t want to see the Shadosinger’s face when he heard the news, he didn’t want to face his wrath. There was no way around it though, so as soon as Eris left he winnowed to Velaris.

Knocking on the River House door felt like a waste of time, so he just walked in and b-lined for the adjoined studies. He cursed internally when he saw two sets of wings and a shadowy mist. “Rhysand, something happened” the High Lord scrapes his talons along his mental shields and Lucien lets him in. “Gods above” he mutters and looks to the Shadowsinger “what?”. Rhysand sighs “Az, sit down for this” Azriel does not. “Tell me” Lucien speaks first. “Y/n was kidnapped by Beron”.

Azriel must’ve blacked out “what?” he repeats. Rhysand shows him what Lucien had shown him. The horse without a rider, Vassa telling what he saw from the skies and Eris informing him that their friend’s disappearance was not an accident. He’s going to be sick. He’s going to kill Beron. Siphons flare, cobalt lights the room. “Eris said that they haven’t touched her, if we act soon we can get her out unharmed” Lucien’s voice brings him back. He has to think clearly and they need to come up with a plan, fast.

Eris winnowed back to the dungeons. It was mid afternoon. He thought that she would probably be hungry by now so he stuffed an apple and a bread roll in his pockets. It was all he could sneak out of the kitchens without raising suspicions. Everyone in this house had sworn loyalty to the High Lord of Autumn and helping feed one of his prisoners was punishable in many ways. He lit a fireball and walked over to the tenth cell, hopefully hearing that the Night Court would be helping in getting her out would keep her spirits high. He hated the fear that had settled on her face. He was used to seeing her in the sunlight, her eyes glittering and cheeky smile always fighting to be seen. His heart sank when he saw her on the floor, in a fetal position, breath shallow. “Y/n?” he lets out a breath when she stirs. “Y/n, wake up” his stomach drops when her head lifts to look at him. A bright purple bruise covered her left eye. It was swollen but not shut. She had a gash from where his father’s ring had made contact, just below her brow. “Shit, what did he do to you?” She sits up and winces when she puts pressure on her arm to crawl closer to him “I stayed quiet like you said, but I think that made him angrier” he scanned her face and it looked like it had only been one punch, which was tame for his father. He looked over at the rest of her and scowled when he noticed dried blood on her dress “where did the blood come from?” The gash on her eye was not deep enough to have trailed that much blood. She took her right arm out of her jacket and showed him a thin but deep slice down her forearm. That was new, his father was never careful about the cuts he made. His only goal was to inflict pain. This was a precise incision, it showed intention. “I passed out from the punch and when I woke up my arm hurt like hell”. This was worse than he thought. “Here” he hands her the apple and bread “I’ll bring you more later tonight when the house is empty” she takes the food and immediately bites into the bread. A small moan escapes her. “I spoke with Lucien, he is informing the Night Court right now, you’ll be out soon”. She doesn’t respond, he wouldn't believe himself either. “Hey” he reaches into the cell and lifts her chin “I promise” he feels a tingle down his back and he knows that she’ll have a matching mark on hers “what was that?” She looks worried “It’s just a bargain mark, when I get you out, which I will, the mark will disappear”. He hadn’t noticed how pale she was, how much blood had she lost? “Eris?” he hummed “promise me that I won’t die here” he nods “I promise”.

“You called for me,” Beron motioned for Eris to sit. “Keir has invited us to his Court for a ball. I accepted his invitation on behalf of all of us. You’ll be escorting the girl” odd. “Why would we bring her?” he asks with an arrogant flare. “In order to the destabilize Night Court we must weaken them and I have a feeling that when the Shadowsinger sees her by your side he will take himself out of my way”. Eris nodded “when is the ball?” His father picked up the invitation and read “Two weeks from today”.

Shit.

“Very well”.

taglist: @luvmoo

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mochinomnoms · 3 months

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i see that you're a huge kalim fan and i honestly agree! i'd love to know what some of your favorite things about his character are

UUUUUGH KALIM MY BELOVED I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY BUT SO LITTLE TIME

So Kalim has a spot in my heart because, not only do we share a zodiac sign, we're only born one day apart! His personality and mannerisms (and social cluelessness) are veery similar to mine as well, and I can just see myself in him. Plus he's a cutie patootie and we'd get along great!

As a character, he is very interesting to me cause, for all intents and purposes, he's been isolated and shelter from proper social interactions growing up. He's so kind, almost to a fault, but he can't tell he's being overbearing, inconsiderate, or overwhelming. He loves to host parties and be extravagant, but he forgets the stress that comes with planning them. He's well-intending, but will do things, give gifts, or insert himself in situations with no regard to what the others want because he just thinks he's being nice or helpful! As a character, he has a lot of potential for growth, learning how to be more aware, more thoughtful about his interactions with others. He also has the potential to grow into someone more mature, yet kind, and has so much potential as a mage.

If it wasn't for his family having tutors, playmates, and servants go easy on Kalim and make him think he's good at everything, then I firmly believe he'd have the potential to actually be fairly smart. He has to be in order to take over the family business and be a competent heir. I mean, his magic is insanely powerful when you logically think about it. Azul was right to point out how Kalim's unique magic has the potential to revolutionize entire cities with no fresh water access or infrastructure. He could literally solve droughts by just using his UM, which uses a super small amount of magic to make a shit ton of water. He has so much potential!!!

Sorry, I just rambled, but I love Kalim so much, I wanna smoochie him and get married. The 30 kids thing scares me tho

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #kalim al asim #i have so many thoughts i ove him kasnaslajsa #kalim al asim you are the love of my life i will kill a man for you

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thedemonlady · 6 months

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HEARTSTEEL KAYN IN NYLON CHINA INTERVIEW 💜

"I have an alter-ego. He has his own name, Rhaast." Speaking of the other self in his body, Kayn suddenly calmed down. "I use the third person to make it easier for you to understand. In my opinion, I am him and he is me. He is completely unleashed, is the most original version of me. He led me to break away from all constraints, including my own complicated thoughts, and just immerse myself in the present and experience everything." Kayn talked about Rhaast calmly, and everyone else stopped what they were doing. K'Sante put down his tablet, and Ezreal stops himself from petting Sett's ear. "For an artist, if you can have a completely isolated space, where you can avoid all distractions and don't even have to think too much, but just exist purely, that kind of freedom can inspire the most beautiful things. Do Authentic creations. Only Rhaast can take me there. He can make me forget other people's expectations and constraints, and even forget myself. He is me, but he can make me forget "me".” Kayn needs to close himself off and create art in company of Rhaast. But not everyone can accept this creative model. What they see is Kayn's absence again and again during rehearsals, and conflicts with his old teammates that occur almost every day. So Kayn finally left the previous band, taking with him the music that came from his heart. Everyone who heard them knew how wonderful those songs were, but as punishment for the world, Kayn refused to release them to the public. "Those who cannot appreciate the existence of Rhaast cannot understand the music we created together." Until Aphelios discovered them.

▶ Other curiosities about Kayn in the interview:

The first thing Kayn does before the interview is say Hello to Akali and tell her that he is also in Nylon, while waving at the camera.

Kayn was surprised to learn that Yone wanted to live with the band.

His favorite food is macaroni and cheese, and potato chips with toppings.

He followed Aphelios' idea of putting the food in the oven at high temperature for twice as long, which caused a fire and K'Sante had to call the fire department.

Kayn, wants to try spicy food in Hunan, Jiangxi, and Sichuan.

He wants to see Pandas

#Kayn #Shieda Kayn #Heartsteel Kayn #Rhaast #Heartsteel Rhaast #Heartsteel: Paranoia #Heartsteel #LoL official lore #LoL official art #Official art #Heartsteel Official Lore #Riot Music #my shadow boy ♥#my edit #my translations #Having an alter-ego is not a mental illness!!!

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novacqnes · 2 years

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insomnia // rosita espinosa

summary: grappling with heartbreak and her sexuality Rosita finds solace in you and a little more.

warning: very brief smut (fingering, masturbation)

word count: 2.2k

pairing: rosita espinosa x fem reader

a/n: noticed a lack of rosita fics on here, if you guys enjoyed please don’t forget to reblog I really appreciate it :)

Loneliness was an unmistakable feeling. It was the depravity and isolation that came with being alone that made living unbearable. It was a feeling that Rosita knew all too well but she was good at masking it. After all, she had Abraham, someone who she’d known since the start of the end and he wouldn’t dare leave her- until he eventually did. But there were more men after Abraham, all of whom meant nothing to her, none of them could replace the growing loneliness she wrestled with day after day.

From the moment Rosita emerged from the tank by Abraham’s side you were in awe. Not just by her physical appearance but the way she cared for people, especially those she loved. She was fierce but in an a passionate way- being loved by Rosita was unlike anything else, or so you imagined. There were many things stopping you from professing your long held crush on her; the first began with the 6ft blue-eyed ginger with a loaded machine gun. The second was that Rosita was presumably straight. She never talked about girls or even hinted at a possible attraction to them which made you doubt the possibility that she’d ever reciprocate your feelings.

So maybe it was loneliness, or maybe it was curiosity that led Rosita to your doorstep for the first time 6 weeks ago. That night Rosita wandered around Alexandria aimlessly until she came across your dimly lit house on the corner of the street. She didn’t have a particular goal in mind but before she knew it she was at your front step, ringing the doorbell.

When you appeared Rosita was shocked by the absence of fatigue and dark circles under your eyes. You looked put together, almost as if you weren’t sleeping in the first place. It made her feel embarrassed to be standing in front of you with nothing but a tank top and shorts.

“Hey, you alright?” You asked.

Rosita looked more flushed than usual. And any other day you would’ve blamed it on the scorching Virginia heat. It was something about the way she stood in front of you, out of breath, balled fists and messy hair. You knew there had to be something more.

“Yeah, I saw the light from outside. Can I come in?”

You opened the door a bit further to let her in when you finally saw it. The dim light over the fireplace illuminated the room to where you were able to finally get a clear view of Rosita. You hadn’t realized it before but her eyes were red as if she’d been crying for hours.

“Sorry for the mess, I can clean it up if you want to sit down.”

Rosita had only visited your house a handful of times yet this was the first time she truly got a good look. There were candles lit all around your living room, the couch was pulled out and numerous books, pencils, cigarettes, poems and drawings spread all across the mattress.

“No- don’t it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She remarked, a drawing on the corner of the bed catching her eye.

She sauntered over to it picking it up, it was a drawing of Michonne. Around her dozens upon dozens of flowers drawn meticulously to outline her locs. Around her locs were splashes of color that only enhanced the picture.

She stood in disbelief, “You did this?”

Rosita was astonished, she’d never seen anything like it. She couldn’t fathom that something so beautiful could come to life in the world they lived. A world of pain, loneliness and fear.

“Yeah, I tried to get the eyes right but they look off-“ You rambled.

“Y/n, this is beautiful. Is that what you do all night?”

“Pretty much, I can never really fall asleep so I find something to do, to keep myself busy.”

“Is there more? Can I look?” She urged, her eyes falling on more.

“Knock yourself out.” You chuckled, giddy excitement ran through your body as you watched Rosita face light up at the sight of your creations.

She sat on the mattress reading through the poems- your poems. She found herself smiling at your handwriting, the way you wrote with passion and pursuit. Each and every drawing she came across made her heart swell, especially the ones of the group. Something about the way you drew people felt majestic. The way people wanted to be seen as something more than themselves, as something greater, you displayed through each stroke.

Rosita kept looking until she came across one at the edge of the bed, you began to panic recognizing the figure through the page. Before you could rush over and grab it she was already on it, flipping it over to see herself.

At first she was speechless, it felt as if she was staring at her own reflection. In the pit of your stomach several knots formed as you stood by anxiously hoping she wasn’t creeped out or hated your drawing. You picked your cuticles hoping to distract yourself from the unnerving silence.

At last a painful smile broke through Rosita's face as she closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

She hated it.

You stuttered, “I’m sorry Rosita, I tried my best but I could redo it if you’d like—“

“No, no- Y/n this is perfect, you’re perfect. I love it.” She reassured.

“Then what’s wrong?” You asked, joining her on the side of the bed.

“Abraham. He left me.”

Rosita filled you in on how it happened. When she came into the room they shared together and he was packing. He didn’t offer her much of an explanation besides the fact that he now knew that she wasn’t the only woman in the world anymore. But you both knew it meant he’d fallen for someone else and kicked Rosita as well as all of the years they’d spent together to the curb.

“I’m not upset that he’s found someone better for himself, you know? It hurts like hell but it’s how he did it. Like I was nothing.”

Anger bubbled inside of you as you found it hard to contain your thoughts. You’d always created a picture of what you imagined Rosita and Abraham's relationship to be. You thought of them as some sort of unbreakable force. They weren’t joined at the hip like Maggie and Glenn but their loyalty to each other spoke for itself. Rosita would do anything for him and until now you assumed it was the same back.

“He’s an asshole.”

“Y/n—“

“Listen I know you love him and all but he’s still a dick, and I’m entitled to believe that.” You said curtly.

She chucked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She held up the picture of herself.

“The way you drew me, I want someone to see me like that. Strong, beautiful, unbeatable.” She gushed, placing a hand on your clothed thigh.

Someone. Although she didn’t say your name directly, it felt like she was talking about you. Like she was calling out to you and once again you felt the heat rush to your cheeks but this time you said something.

“You are.”

Rosita blushed, nervously shaking her head as she sensed the atmosphere shift. The vanilla scent from the candles made her feel like she was walking on air. How she so deeply wanted to lean in and kiss you right there yet she held back. She pulled her hand in, placing it back in her lap.

She grinned, “I really needed this Y/n, thanks for being an insomniac.”

“Anytime.” You mumbled, heart sinking as you felt like you’d driven her away.

She headed for the door clutching the picture in her arms shooting you one last bittersweet smile. Once the door closed you flung yourself onto the bed. You screwed up you thought, you let your feelings get in the way and it chased Rosita away. Now you really weren’t going to sleep.

Little did you know Rosita hadn’t let the tension deter her from seeing you. Every day since that night she found her way back to your house. Sometimes it was to talk, admire your work, but truly it was because she liked being around you. That night Rosita practically begged you to let her model for you. She went around all of Alexandria collecting acrylic paints and a canvas for you to work on. When she finally arrived she was bursting at the seams with excitement waltzing through the door. She dumped the tools on the pull out bed.

“You’re way too excited for this.” You giggled, setting up your workstation.

“Never been more ready for anything in my life- you know I had to play a game of chess with Eugene to get those fancy paints for you?”

“Chess?”

“Yes, chess! It lasted a whole 3 hours. You should be thanking me.” She exclaimed.

You smirked, “I’ll make sure to thank you after, have a seat.”

Rosita took a seat on the bed as you settled on the stool behind the canvas. You meticulously studied her face and you noticed it had a new joy to it. Over the last few weeks you could feel Rosita’s confidence slowly beginning to build back up. There were a few setbacks but she was repairing her heart with your help, every step of the way.

You guys had grown extremely close as Rosita began to spend the night, but you guys never slept in the same bed. Since the first night you were careful not to cross any lines with Rosita, your relationship was strictly platonic and it was going to stay that way.

With each stroke you replicated the beautiful woman seated in front of you. You covered each and every inch of her body accentuating the slightest detail.

“Almost done there?” Rosita called out, growing a bit restless.

“Almost….” You answered back, adding the finishing details to the portrait.

Once you were finally satisfied you turned the canvas around allowing Rosita to see. A heartfelt smile spread across her flushed face as she admired the art.

“That’s you,” You beamed, taking a seat right next to her.

“Y/n…. I don’t even know what to say, it's beautiful.” She cooed, turning to look at you.

For a second you felt time stop as your eyes connected. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you caught a whiff of her maple scent. Instead of pulling away Rosita placed a gentle hand on the side of your face moving in to kiss you. Her lips were so soft, you couldn’t think straight as her hands ran up and down your body pressing herself further against you.

“Wait no-no.” You shook your head going to remove her hands from you.

“What’s wrong?”

“You don’t really want this.” You croaked.

“What?”

“You’re heartbroken because of Abraham so this is your way to cope, you don’t really like me.

She began, “Y/n-“

“No-“

“Y/n, listen to me.” She cupped your face so you could see she was truly serious.

“I like you and I want to be with you. This isn’t some phase or coping mechanism. I’ve never been happier than when I’m with you. You make me want to be better and I hope I can be that person for you. Please let me.” She pleaded.

You knew she was telling the truth, you could see it in her eyes she was being genuine. You’d gone down this road way too many times to know that you just needed to trust her, you felt it deep down that you could.

“Okay,” You nodded, moving your hands, allowing Rosita to continue.

Something about the way she kissed you, the passion behind it made you fall all in. The kiss grew more fierce as she slipped her tongue into your mouth causing you to moan. Her hand traveled to the band of your sweatpants before looking at you for permission.

“I’m not experienced, when it comes to girls. But I want to try…can I touch you?” She muttered in between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

You placed your hand over hers slipping it under your pants and underwear, guiding her in the right direction. The pad of her thumb gently connected with your clit as it sent a shiver through your pussy. She began to rub tauntingly slow circles kissing up and down your neck.

“Just like that.” You moaned, as the pleasure built inside of you. Seeing how this affected you Rosita applied more pressure to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you.

“You’re doing so well Rosie.” You cried, as her pace sped up, she leaned down to sloppily kiss you, your tongues swirling over one another.

Rosita angled her finger meeting your g spot as you gasped. She kept going until you were a moaning mess in front of her on the verge of release. When you were done she placed her head into the crevice of your neck, admiring her work. You looked down at her content and out of breath.

“I could do that for you too you know, take care of you.” You suggested, slipping a hand over her thigh.

“I know but you always do, I wanted to be the one this time. I promise to be.”

That night you laid in the same bed comfortably tangled in each other’s arms, drifting off into a long slumber for the first time in years. Although your insomnia wasn’t cured, having Rosita next to you every night made it a little easier.

#rosita espinosa #rosita the walking dead #rosita twd #twd #the walking dead #rosita espinosa smut #rosita espinosa angst #rosita espinosa fanfic #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #the walking dead angst #rosita espinosa x fem reader

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bi-bard · 1 year

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Lizzy McAlpine Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Jason Todd - Jason Todd Imagine [Titans (HBO)]

Title: Lizzy McAlpine Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Jason Todd

Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader

Word Count: 2,089 words

Warning(s): unhealthy grieving, injury, argument, yelling, mention of sex

Author's Note: There are like four of these currently planned for Jason (counting this one). It's becoming a problem. You guys need to stop encouraging me.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

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erase me

Don't answer me I'm calling just to hear you scream And you're fading But he feels like you in between

It was all about grief.

Not that I wanted to admit that.

I wanted to believe that this was just me changing as time went on. It had nothing to do with anything else around me. I was just growing. Exploring.

After Jason's death, my decline was fast.

At first, I was isolating. I hid away from the entire group. I only trained on my own. I spent most of my day curled up in my room. Someone would try to stop by, usually Gar trying to get me to eat. Sometimes it was Dick trying to get me to just walk around the tower for a little while or just talk to him.

After a while, I started forcing myself out of the tower. I would go out and find the best place to hide in. Anywhere with loud music and flashing lights and too many people that I could spend just a bit of time devoting my time and energy to. I would overwhelm my senses just to shut off my thoughts for a few hours.

I called that growing. Getting better. Moving through the grief.

No one agreed with me.

I was tired of the worried looks. I just ignored them.

Every night, I would come back to see Dick waiting up for me. I would ignore him, going back to hide in my room before he could lecture me.

I wasn't blind.

I knew when I felt someone watching me.

I ignored it for a while. But when I caught sight of someone on the roof of a building, I knew that I couldn't avoid an inevitable confrontation.

I sighed, turning into an alley. I jumped up onto a fire escape and climbed up.

The figure was still on the roof, looking around the street frantically. I almost chuckled. They'd lost sight of me.

"Who the hell are you," I called. The figure froze, their back still facing me. "Who the hell are you and why have you been watching me?"

I stepped forward, ready to pick a fight if I needed to.

And then, the figure turned around.

Jason.

I stepped back immediately. I shook my head, convincing myself that I had been imagining things. That was it. I had finally lost it. I would have to tell Dick that he was right. I needed help.

"You can't be real," I mumbled, more to myself than Jason.

"(Y/n)-"

"Don't," I snapped. "Don't say that. You... You died. I watched you. You can't... I've gone crazy."

I went to walk away, wanting nothing more than to just run home.

"(Y/n)," Jason stepped closer to me, grabbing my wrist before I could walk away.

I stared down at his hand. I didn't know if I should've pulled away or stayed or yelled or just... anything.

"I wanted to know you were okay," he admitted.

I pushed him back. "I... I have spent so long grieving you. So long. I... How are you... Why..."

Jason stepped forward again. I hit his chest.

"I tried so fucking hard to distract myself!" I shouted. "To forget you for just a little bit and then you just show up again. And you weren't even gonna talk to me? You were just going to watch me from the roof? Seriously?"

"I was scared of this exact reaction!" he yelled back. "You think it didn't kill me? I watched you do this shit every fucking night! It fucking hurt! Watching the person that you love kiss and touch and..."

He trailed off for a moment like the last word would hurt him. I couldn't blame him.

"I just wanted to forget," I mumbled. "Just for a minute."

I looked down for a moment.

"We...," I shook my head and looked back at him. "We need to go tell the others. Dick and Gar- God, Gar's gonna be so happy to see you-"

"I can't."

I felt my heart drop. "What?"

"You can't tell anyone about me."

"Jason..."

He leaned in and kissed me. I almost fell apart. Right in that moment. It had been so long... too long.

He leaned away again.

"Don't tell anyone you saw me," he repeated. "Please."

"Promise me that you're real first," I muttered. "I'll... I'll do anything, but please... just promise me."

"I'm real," he replied. "I promise."

I let the words sink in for a moment before I kissed him again. I cupped the sides of his face, like that would cause time around us to freeze.

Jason pulled away again. He grinned at me.

"Come back to me," I whispered. "Soon."

He nodded. "Sooner than you think, I promise."

I stepped away fully. I waved to him as I made it back to the fire escape.

When I made it home that night, Dick was waiting up for me.

"We need to talk," he said. Like he did every night.

"Okay," I replied. Instead of ignoring him.

He looked shocked at my response.

"I'm ready to talk."

No need to avoid... no need to forget.

an ego thing

Ooh-oh, I was trying to be honest If this is what I get, I won't be honest anymore Oh, if this is what I get I swear I won't be honest anymore

Jason was getting cabin fever.

There was no doubt about that.

After we had all spent so long in the Titan tower doing nothing but training, we all were getting to that point.

But Jason... Jason seemed to miss the violence more than he missed helping people. It was alarming. I knew that he missed being Robin. He missed working with Batman. He missed wearing a mask. But I didn't want him to jump back into that work if all he missed was the ability to do whatever he wanted with little consequence.

I just never wanted him to feel like I didn't support him. Or that I was attacking him.

We were on the couch. My head was resting on his leg. I was listening to him rant about the subject again. I was listening, trying to truly process every word. I just wanted to help him.

"Is it really that bad that I want to actually kick some ass after I've spent months stuck in here training?" he rambled. "I just want to get back to what I'm good at."

I took a deep breath. "Can I... Can I say something?"

He looked down at me and nodded.

"Do you think maybe just wanting to go kick ass is what's making Dick and Bruce hesitant to put you back out there," I asked.

"What?" his eyebrows scrunched up.

"I just... I wonder if they're hoping all the work will help you see your work as more about helping and saving people than you do getting to kick people's asses."

I pushed myself to sit up and turn to him.

He didn't speak up for a moment. I instantly felt like I had gone too far. I reached out and touched his arm, trying to get some response out of him.

"Jason," I said. "I... I just think that you got a little carried away in Gotham. Focused more on the violence than the protection. I want to see you focus on something productive. Surely, you've seen enough people use violence for fun to know that it's not healthy."

"You're really gonna compare me to those guys," he asked.

"No, no, not at all," I shook my head. "I'm saying that there getting caught in that mindset can be harmful."

"But you're saying I'm already there."

"I'm saying you can change it and be better," I explained. "A lot of the guys that you've faced are too far gone."

"How long I have then?" he stood up, raising his voice.

I was already confused about how we got to this point, but I felt like I was too far down this road to back down. I needed to make my point known.

Jason didn't wait for a response. "Go on, tell me."

"I didn't say that you were going to end up like that," I shook my head. I stood up, planning on comforting him. "I... I'm trying to help, Jason-"

"No, you just want to be able to say you tried," he snapped, stepping away from me. "You wanna be able to brag that you tried to save me before I was 'too far gone', right?"

He started walking away like I wasn't going to be able to respond to him.

"I don't fucking want any of that," I said. He kept walking. "Jason! You can't just storm away when you don't like my answer!"

He didn't even react. He just kept walking.

Once he was out of sight, I sighed and sat back down on the couch. I ran my hands over my face.

In my heart, I knew I was right. I knew that I had made a good point.

Maybe that's why I held my ground so firmly.

Why I didn't follow after him when I absolutely should have.

Pancakes for Dinner

I'll try to hide the way I feel But I'll just wanna shout What do I have to lose right now?

"Where's Jason," I asked as I stormed into the Batcave.

At first, I only saw two people. Two men just standing there. Bruce Wayne and some guy that I didn't recognize.

"Who the hell are you," Bruce asked, turning to face me.

I saw Jason sitting behind him. I ignored Bruce, walking forward to stand next to Jason. The other man seemed to be checking on something.

"(Y/n)," Jason grinned at me from behind his Robin mask. "How'd you find this place?"

"Followed you one night," I answered quickly. "Are you okay?"

"Who is this," Bruce asked again. I waved him off.

"I'm okay, just a rough night," Jason explained. "This is (Y/n)! We're old friends!"

Friends. Yeah. Just old friends.

That's why I snuck into the secret hideout of a billionaire that's secretly a vigilante.

Just friends.

"That's Bruce," Jason continued to me. "And this is Alfred."

"Hi," I awkwardly greeted.

I stood next to Jason silently as Alfred explained that Jason needed to take it easy for a little while. Alfred walked out after that. Bruce looked between the two of us. He almost seemed to glare at me before he turned around and walked out.

"He's a ray of sunshine," I mumbled, leaning against the desk.

"He's doing his job," Jason replied. "You did just break into his secret base."

"He should've thought about something like that happening before he took you in."

"How'd you know I got hurt," he asked, ignoring my comment.

"I keep up," I explained. "You're my best friend, Jason. I worry about you."

I saw some look cross his face for a moment. One that I imagine crossed my face when Jason called us old friends. Disappointment.

I paused.

I had to be imagining things.

Jason looked away from me, turning to look toward the door of the hideout more than anything.

"Jason," I said.

The impulsive part of my brain was beating the logical part. The logical part didn't even know it was in a fight.

He looked back at me. The disappointment was gone, but that didn't seem to stop me.

I stepped closer to him.

I took a deep breath before leaning down and pressing my lips to his. I was ready to run. Turn and run and probably vomit.

But then, he kissed me back. He sat up a bit, cupped the back of my head, and kissed me back. It was all so... soft. Like we were both nervous that the other would suddenly push the other away.

I pulled away first. "God, I love you."

Jason chuckled, his hand moving from the back of my head to the side of my face. "Took me getting hurt for you to admit that?"

"Didn't hear you rushing to say it," I muttered.

"Maybe I should make up for lost time then," he teased, brushing his lips against mine again.

"Maybe you should," I replied.

He pecked my lips before pulling away enough to mumble to me, "I love you."

He repeated that pattern a few more times as I happily tried to follow his lips in the hopes of getting a longer kiss.

I was ready to spend eternity just like that.

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Navigation Guide

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #titans x reader #titans fanfiction #titans imagine #imagine #fanfiction #x reader #dc imagine #dc fanfiction #dc x reader #curran walters imagine #curran walters fanfiction #curran walters x reader

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kira-quartz · 8 days

Note

For the ask game: Carryshipping (you can do the individual pairings involved if u want), thiefshipping, irateshipping :>

Blarhgsjkhgkas sorry for the wait 😓 (And sorry the Carryshipping section is such a mess, 😂)

SEND ME A PAIRING

Carryshipping

Okay, so I didn't forget about your other ask; I've been trying to will myself into a state of feralness (turns out I can't do it on cue, 😅!), so I might as well do it here:

AAAAAAAA

MY GLORIOUS CANOE-TYPE THING

LOVE THESE CORNFLAKES

THEY ARE THE CUTE

THEY ARE A LARGE PERCENTAGE OF MY BRAIN

hfvlΩß˙b,jfuzgakuwfhzlgbakug;aoeyoliahliuhougkujdrstewtkuvcfsfm

Like, think about it. Puff, Buddy and Protect are all adorable ships on their own. You have the sweet, polite little nerd who loves all things creepy and the former gang member with a heart of gold who's terrified of the occult and also happens to be a nerd. You have the two lovable idiots who've been best friends for years, who know each other like they know themselves. You have the tough-looking guy who's actually a massive softie and the gentle, fragile-looking cornflake with all this hidden inner strength. So you put all three of them together and there's this whole sun, moon and Earth dynamic where their personalities complement each other in different ways and it just works!!!

Joey and Tristan would always be there for Ryo and remind him as many times as they need to that they want to be there for him - no more disappearing into the Isolation Pit for him if they can help it. I think he'd bring out their softer sides; partly because he's so heckin' adorable, but also because he wouldn't judge them for showing vulnerability.. In the past, they've both had problems with toxic masculinity and felt pressured to act tough, and while they've both come a long way by the time I usually imagine the Carryship setting sail, they probably still have some lingering Stuff. But Ryo's just... himself. I don't think he cares about whether or not he measures up to some made-up standard, and he wouldn't care if other people do either. I see him as a good, sympathetic listener - if anything's bothering them, they can talk to him about it, but he won't push them to talk if they're not ready. (You know how he spent most of the Téa vs. Mai Duel comforting Yugi? Yeah.) Based on some of his dialogue from his Duel Links event (and not just with Joey), I HC that he's really generous with compliments too. If he has something nice to say, he just says it, so there's this kind of funny, kind of interesting contrast between how sincerely he expresses his feelings for Joey and Tristan and how sweet they are to him, and how those two act towards each other: i.e. not too differently to how they did before they got together. They might be a bit more openly affectionate (mainly physically), but they're still Joey and Tristan, and they'll still bicker almost as much as always, 😂!

In between the bickering, Joey would be *vocal* about how much he loves them, and often cheesy as heck (Ryo finds it cute; Tristan "secretly" does too but covers it with a sprinkling of snark. Joey is not fooled in the slightest. Tristan doesn't really mean for him to be.) He's quick to cheer them up or offer encouragement when they're having a bad time, and I can see him encouraging Tristan to stand up to his dad about the factory situation and pursue his own dreams - they deserve to be happy and he'll fight anyone who says otherwise (not necessarily physically because he's matured since canon, but still!) He and Ryo would be so cute nerding out over games together, 🥰. He gets to enthusiastic about things (he threw himself right into that first Monster World session) and that would mean a lot to Ryo. (Tristan's willing to join in, but he's not as passionate about it as they are.) With his interest in model-building, I think he'd appreciate the work Ryo puts into his dioramas too. And they can both be Odd Cornflakes at times - Ryo might be the Weird One of the three, but Joey did call the original Duel Disk a "cup ramen thing", 🤣. I bet they'd occasionally wake Tristan up talking about whatever completely random thought popped into one of their heads at 2am, 😂.

Tristan will keep them grounded and be the voice of reason as usual... unless he's getting swept up in whatever Joey's doing, because let's face it, with these three, there *will* be moments when no one has the brain cell and it's just skittering around unattended. (Do brain cells skitter? Serious questions asked on my bloggo.) He's sometimes a bit confused by Ryo, but that doesn't bother him. He's accepted that there are some things he just won't get, so he's just going to concentrate on doing what he does best: loving and supporting Ryo unconditionally, as well as keeping a close eye on any occult stuff that's going on - *no one* needs to get possessed again. (Joey will watch from a safe distance, (read: "over Tristan's shoulder like when he found out that Shadi was a ghost", 😂), but no matter how terrified he is, he'll still be ready to take action if things start to go wrong.) If anything's wrong with either of them (and he always notices), he'll go out of his way to help, even if all he can do is listen, which happens more often than he'd like, especially with Ryo. It's not always easy, though, so they make sure to let him know they appreciate him, and be there for him when he needs it.

Overall: 200/10, can't believe no one named it before I did.

Thiefshipping

It's been a while since I've really thought about them, but this is probably my favourite ship for both of them, mostly because of the fandom's portrayals. None of these options really fit them for me, though? 😅 They're an entertaining mess. A pair of heckin disasters. XD

Irateshipping

Well, I haven't seen much art for it, but I like the idea of it! It'd be interesting to see how it happens, with the whole brainwashing thing and Joey's tendency to hold grudges. They'd definitely have to address that, 😅. (Oh, and about your reply to my ask: what exactly is a hamster-like death? 😂)

Thanks for asking!

#yugioh #carryshipping #ryo bakura #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #thiefshipping #marik ishtar #yami bakura #irateshipping #ygo #ryou bakura #katsuya jonouchi #hiroto honda #malik ishtar #answers

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emmettland · 1 month

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heavy vent

i'm so tired of feeling so drained, in every way possible. physically. mentally. emotionally. creatively. i'm trying so hard to do what i love, but it's like i'm not loving it, i'm not loving anything now. i read the words i type and just see something lukewarm, underdeveloped, nowhere near greatness. i open up my canvas to draw and it's just the same shapes, same ideas, same concepts, same struggles. it's all flat and monotone where there used to be life.

i've dealt with some very bad depressive episodes. i don't think i've ever dealt with one this long. it's not that there aren't moments of happiness and relief -- it's just that it hurts more knowing the empty, bitter gray will suck me back in once they end, and i'll make myself even more jaded wishing i could get them back, make them stay.

i want to do something self-destructive, but it would negatively affect the people i live with, the people who still manage to care about me, and i also need to take care of myself enough to take care of Peggy, even though that's become a slog through the gray too. wake up, walk dog, feed dog, feed self. distract from the bad feelings.

i want to work and be productive, but whenever i sit down to do commission work, i'm reminded of my shameful unemployment. whenever i sit down and try to get in the zone while working on a project, all i can think about is how the high won't last. the interest will fade. i'll do brilliant things with it, and then abandon it, and then grieve over something that i decided to leave behind.

all that comes out of my mouth now are excuses, or silence, because talking leads to venting and i can only vent about the same problem, the same feelings (just getting worse), so many damn times before that vicious little voice in my head keeps telling me i'm the problem.

i was better for a while. i got used to ignoring it. i even got to a point where i believed it wasn't right. when i believed people telling me i wasn't a bad person, that my work was worthwhile, that i was worthwhile. i believed it, i accepted it, i fucking loved myself.

i climbed all the way to what felt like the top, only to come tumbling down, down, down. it never changes, and i never learn. the higher you go, the farther you fall. when in my life have i ever found the key to happiness and actually held onto it? it's a delusion. everything is just a fucking delusion and i can't tell why. is it my brain chemistry? do i need pills? is it the unemployment? is it getting older? is it my own choices? if the answer was just written out for me, i could solve it, because i help solve other people's problems, why not mine?

i'm not suicidal. i'm not. i sound like a raving mad man while i type this out at seven in the morning, but this is the most real that i've felt, the words are actually clear to me and not just blurry shapes behind a wall of I'm Fine, I'm Polite, Don't Worry. everything is making sense right now and the words are so bright and sharp, it's almost like digging and digging and finally finding something in the ground.

i don't want to die. i'm not sure if i want to be understood. i don't need everyone to love me, just my family and friends is fine, i would also like to be included in that equation. i think about dying all the time, but i don't want to die, trust me. i just want help. i need help, and maybe spitting out so-called edgy nonsense on my blog isn't going to help me, but maybe it's good not to backspace and delete everything. maybe it'll give my therapist something to work with because i always forget to say things in the moment.

i can't even say i'm having a breakdown. that's singular, an isolated event. this is breaking down. i'm losing it, i'm fucking losing it, but believe me, i'm holding on. it might not look like it, but i'm grabbing and not letting go, even when my grip starts to slip. my dad's an alcoholic and turned to drinking when he got laid off. my dad made my mom cry so many times when i was a kid because he let go and i won't make that mistake, i won't make mom cry, even if she doesn't live here. i will not end up like him.

#emmett vents #i'm not tired at all but i'm going to bed #i'm feeling a little off the rails

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tothepointofinsanity · 3 months

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Hello, I hope it's ok to interact with your personal posts, if not feel free to ignore this

I feel the same regarding relationships "resetting" on my end, do you also forget how to "behave" towards those people once you reconnect? Like how you used to interact with them, what you'd talk about, how you'd present yourself etc.

Ah, no worries, it’s alright to interact with me via my personal posts. ^^ I often feel very embarrassed about my own feelings towards things [which is highly irrational, but I am by all definitions an irrational person to begin with], but people have been respectful to me thus far, so I’m glad…

I do forget whatever mannerisms I used to conduct around those I’ve lost connection with. The thing is that I rarely stumble across those I’ve cut myself away from [be it intentionally or by the aforementioned trouble of simply losing sight of them], so the more regular occurrences are with those I almost lose, but they would reach out to me for hangout events every now and then. Even in front of those individuals, I forget myself, or whichever version of that cut board cutout of a “being” that I presented to them.

In my more shallow relationships, this isn’t truly a problem since it’s easy to bring up what I’ve learned to do, such as making jokes and talking about shared interests over tea time, but it’s a noticeably different case with those I’ve shared a deeper connection with. There is a friend I have whom I admired a lot, and they’re a bit of an eccentric fellow in a lot of ways, and we used to be close until both ends went silent. I still meet them infrequently every now and then between the interval of months, and though they made no remark about it, I noticed that I had reset into that detached and silent state with them. They don’t seem to mind it all that much, and truthfully neither do others, but I’m sure those way before would be uncomfortable with my silence now.

Essentially, resetting to your default self in relationships would be less bothersome if others aren’t observant to begin with. Most of the people I choose to surround myself with don’t spend their time scanning people’s behaviours, expressions and body language as much as I do them, but they can still pick up “thoughts” at times that I might be unwell. It’s preferable that way if others don’t examine me too closely, but the problem still boils down to how you feel about the way you act around others that you consider to be valuable to you. If a friend doesn’t reach out to me from time to time, I would make no effort to pursue them since that person no longer Exists to me. I suppose you also have to consider if you want that relationship to be maintained as well. I don’t mind my relationships falling apart, but it does get lonely at times when you end up in extremely long periods of self-imposed isolation. If it’s someone you used to care about and still want to continue caring for, you would have to slowly rebuild your presentation of the self to them.

But I think if anyone did care for me that much, they wouldn’t be so preoccupied with which version I am currently presenting to begin with. In the end, it still circles back to your own feelings and the choices you have to make…or not. For me, I look at my relationships and I’m reminded that people can be easily faded in terms of their importance to me, which isn’t their fault at all, but rather to do with the nature of how truly self-absorbed I am.

Ah. It’s so complicated and redundant to speak about it at times from my end. One day I care about someone and the next I’m out the door. The kind of person that is shallow and selfish - I really don’t deserve the people I have.

#ASKS 💌

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ina-nis · 10 months

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On a constant basis, I feel bad about not working and about having given up on finding employment or a career.

The idea of having a job makes me want to kill myself.

I don’t care about money. I never go outside anyway, I don’t have a social life, and I have no use for material things. I live life in simplistic ways and I feel like money is a “curse” of sorts: without it I’ll be homeless and starve, I’ll be without my meds or access to transportation. Nothing good comes out of it.

I feel awful about spending time (or money) on leisure, and awful about having “free time” at all, since I don’t work.

It’s like I’m a parasite, leeching from others who work hard to earn their keep.

Somehow, in my head, I always conveniently forget I spent most of my adulthood looking for jobs, working odd gigs, studying and specializing to try to find something else, realizing I don’t want to do that, trying again, making connections and networking and it all was for nothing.

It’s almost like that’s a very good reflection of how I came to develop this disorder: no matter what I do, it’s not enough and I ultimately feel disposable and unwanted.

I tell myself, over and over, I need to find a career or something for me to do with my life because I know what I’m capable of and, to me, “disability” is but a placeholder or a stepping stone. I’m disabled for now, but I won’t be when I “get it together”.

But as the years passed, the reality I’m faced with is ruthless: the longer you go without employment, the worse it is (I have talked about this before here).

There’s not only employment discrimination but also the social stigma, which is terrifying. I’m not reliable because I don’t have a job/am disabled, that’s alienating on itself.

As I get older, that only feels worse.

I try to not check Reddit too much anymore because when I see avoidants my age and older, it leads me to despair.

Being stuck in a dead end job is alienating too, among other things. In the end, I ask myself what went wrong with us, and what could change. I don’t have any good answers.

It’s not like we’re carrying these dreadful feelings, these depressive behaviours and all that sense of disconnection and isolation on purpose. I don’t think it’s our fault this condition don’t really respond to treatment after you’re past anxiety symptoms, nor it’s our fault the fact that it might worsen.

For some, existing dissociated from everything and everyone, even from the self, is a good answer: avoiding the avoidance.

Sometimes I wonder if that’s it, and when will it get to me.

#avoidance #avoidant #Avoidant Personality Disorder #avpd #inanis post

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worldssmallestghost · 6 months

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Journal 37. The end. A last look at Pendragon.

It's finally come. I finished my re-read of the Pendragon Adventures. I apologize, this is going to be another essay. Thank you in advance to anyone who reads this, especially my regulars. Y'all the real ones, I'm glad this fandom isn't quite dead.

I'm probably going to come back, write theories and such over time as well. I'm going to do one more re-listen and then shelve the series for the next stage of my life that I think it's appropriate to come back.

I finished Soldiers of Halla last night. As an adult with a different mindset, I didn't hate the ending... But I still have issues with it, as a writer myself now. I'll get into that later.

The ending did, however, nearly bring me to tears. The series meant a lot to me as a teenager. The kind of teenager that ran to the "haunted" bathroom at school to get some time alone like Mark. Now that I've grown and gotten married and well, learned to write, Bobby's last moments in his re-written life hit different. Especially hearing about how he found his niche, wasn't super successful, but still made the tiny change he wanted to make in the world. That's the whole reason I want to become an author, so hearing that love of the craft portrayed by an author I looked up to made me feel a kind of sentimental kinship.

It did feel rushed, there's a lot of questions that if I ever met DJM, I'd ask about. Was the timeline reset? Was there an isolated bubble for the travelers? Was that the real Courtney and Mark that Bobby got to finish that life around? If not, what happened to the real ones?

I guess I'll have to come to peace with another aspect of that ending. Damn you, DJ.

If I'm gonna be honest, I feel almost... An emptiness after finishing the series again. I've been on and off listening to the audiobooks for the past three or so years. I started during the pandemic. In that time I've met, and married, the love of my life. I wanted to involve "Hobey ho" in my wedding vows despite nobody knowing what that meant. It didn't pan out for logistical reasons, but I will during our second ceremony down the line.

I have so many amazing memories I now associate with the series. Nothing will ever take that away. I'll never forget listening to The Reality Bug while meeting my now wife. Listening to Courtney and Dodger's adventures on First Earth while I actively planned my wife's immigration. Or delving into the secrets of Ibara again while trying my best to get through pre-wedding jitters.

I'm never going to let those memories go.

I'm not done with the fandom, I've got theories and a lot on my mind. I think I'm firmly stuck here now.

If I ever met DJ, after all the questions, I'd thank him. His little book series that hasn't gotten nearly enough attention it deserves meant something to me. It helped inspire me to become a writer myself. It gave me perspective on what it means to do the right thing in the face of adversity. Helped me realize that for every victory, there are some failures, and that's okay.

I'd also reprimand him for killing off Mark to... *checks notes* cancer. But that's a personal thing.

Looks like I've got another stage of my life to look forward to.

This isn't goodbye. Just another stage.

And so we go.

#pendragon adventures #bobby pendragon #books #dj machale

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danielforshort · 5 months

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Queer Loneliness

I sit on the couch and swipe through dating profiles while the Try Guys play in the background. I pause on a young man's face. I try to imagine myself loving him. Liking him. Hell, enjoying spending any romantic tinged time with him at all. I can almost imagine it. Almost. I swipe right.

My first few messages are exciting and fun to type. That imagined affection gains some weight. Then the novelty wears off. I realise I am bored. The imagining disappears like candle smoke. Our conversation tapers out. Just like the last one. And the one before that. And exactly like the next one will.

I have ages of my life forgetting about the concept of dating and romance. For months there is no yearning in me. I am content. I am happy. I am grateful for the found family I have. But then the yearning sets in. The Lonely. It is not the fear that I will be alone, or even the fear that I will never find a partner. It is the fear that I will never find connection in a fulfilling way. That there is too much of me, and in me, and that I am too small, all at once.

As a child I dreamed of being a spinster. I would live in the country, in a small farmhouse, I would own a horse, a dog, a cat. I would write books. I would be a teacher. I would be good, and kind, and loving, and I would be loved, and cherished, and cared for. And I would live with my best friend.

But that childhood best friend and I have outgrown each other; almost a decade ago now. And I have new, wonderful, best friends. People who have grown with me and fit with who I am now as a person. But their lives are so different than mine. Respectfully, their lives are entangled with other important people. They are kind, caring, wonderful, but they are not the connection I am looking for.

I yearn for that deep, soul struck connection. Intimacy.

My queer platonic partner and I fit together so easily. So well. I could feel the edges of our relationship. I knew where I stood, at all times, with them. We laughed easily, I cried easily. We supported each other, easily. And then we changed and life changed, and things were over. Naturally. The consequence of time.

And then I was full of giddy something. Romance? Desire? Yearning? I don't know. It was something. It was different than how my queerplatonic relationship felt. I thought it was romance.

When I tried to explain what I was feeling, I couldn't find the right words. My nervous laugh interrupted me too much. I sat, criss-cross, on my full sized bed, staring at the twinkling lights on my wall, trying so hard to not fuck up the beginning of something i had never had before.

I over-complicated it. I muddled my words and my meanings. What I meant to say was "I care so deeply about you. I care so much about what you think of me. I want to be important to you. I want you to want to be important to me. I want to be vulnerable with you. I want to lay my being out in front of you so we may learn to wind our lives together, like a vine and a trellis. I am scared of how to connect. There is something in me, or about me, that changes how I connect with the world. With people. I am scared I will not connect with you in the ways that are expected of me. I am scared my connection will not be enough. I am scared what i want is not what you want. I am scared."

Instead we let my muddled words suffice. So for nine months we tried to connect. We failed to connect. We waltzed through stages of our lives and found ourselves startled to not be waltzing together.

What do I do now? What do I do when I crave this kind of rare connection that i know can only be forged after ages of pleasant, normal, friendship? Patience should be my virtue, held close to my heart, instead it is loneliness.

How do I learn to accept the isolating loneliness of an aromantic heart, the exhausting experience of being Autistic, and the grieving wound of a lack of family?

#aromantic #actually autistic #queer #isolation #no contact #queerplatonic #dealing with grief #growing up #demiromantic

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sl-newsie · 6 months

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Spelled (Carlos de Vil x Sanderson Daughter) Descendants 3- Ch. 1: A New Beginning

“Fire burn and cauldron bubble, show me what’s the latest trouble.”

The indigo concoction in the giant cauldron churns and boils, erupting with cold mist. Below, an image of the Isle appears just as the familiar black limo drives over a new bridge. What are you up to, Ben?

“Anything important?” Uma asks from across the room.

“Nothing important to us… so far.”

For the past month I’ve kept tabs on Ben’s- or, Mal’s plans, biding my time for the opportune moment. After I vanished from the garden, I wound up at the forest edge near the sea. I did some exploring and found a sturdy cave with the perfect space to practice my magic. Of course by being close to the water, Uma found me easy as pie. When I explained what happened after she disappeared, Uma agreed to be allies and act as my scout. I must say, the freedom of having no limits has been the best month of my life! I’ve learned so much about transportation, levitation, telekinesis, and transformation spells! And yet… it’s still a prison.

"You want a pineapple?" Uma asks.

"Wha-? Oh, no thanks."

She shrugs and holds up the spiked fruit. "More for me!"

I almost forget just how much is new to her since it's the first time Uma's been off the Isle.

I check the cauldron again and my heart clenches when I see Carlos step out of the limo. “They’re planning on bringing more VKs today. Maybe I could sneak over and-”

“No way, Sparky! Now’s not the time to be rushing into things.”

I groan and walk over to stare off at the ocean. “Uma, I can’t just hide in this cave forever! Sooner or later I want to leave and go home.”

She cocks an eyebrow and crosses her arms. “What if your daddy just has them lock you away?”

“He would never do that! He’s my father, he’ll protect me. I just want a normal life without everyone using me for my magic or trying to lock me up!”

She steps into the water and shifts into her octopus form. “Sure, keep on believing that. I’m gonna go check out the new meat.”

I flash her a warning look. “Be nice, Uma. They’re just kids.”

But she just ignores me and disappears below the surface. Don’t get me wrong, I am no fan of Auradon by any means. But I do hold a soft spot for the kids on the Isle. After seeing how they’re just like me, seeing how much they want a better life, it gives me a purpose worth fighting for even if I’m given no credit.

I grab more ginger root and begin a fear draught.

“And what’s that for?” Binx asks from the bookshelf. Both he and Twilight have been snoozing most of the day.

I roll my eyes. “For educational purposes. It’s not like I’m actually going to poison someone with this.”

“Then why brew it?”

“Just in case I feel like having fun.” I almost don’t believe my own words.

Binx hops down and starts pacing. “I’m not sure about this, Magica. Ever since your fight with Carlos you’ve been much more… disturbed.”

His words tug at my conscience but I ignore him and continue to mix the draught.

“I know what I’m doing, Binx. I’m finally free to do what I want, free of judgment. For once I can actually live without fear of failing anyone!”

“At what cost? You’ve always done this, Magica. Isolate yourself, grow your powers only to plunge back into society and lose control. Have you ever thought about giving up magic-”

I cut him off with a flaming warning finger. “Don’t you dare suggest that. I know I’m more than just my magic, but it’s all I have left! Without my magic I’m just a weak, pathetic girl who has no friends and no future.”

Binx goes to argue but I brush past and start crushing dried peppermint leaves. “Soon enough I’ll leave here and find Father, all in good time. Then we can go back to the cottage and I’ll never have to worry about being alone or hurting anyone ever again.”

I see Binx’s face and immediately know what he’s thinking, because I’m thinking of it too. What if I can’t find Father? Is the future I’m planning really just a fake promise to myself?

“I have returned!” Uma announces from the cave entrance.

“So who’s the new group?” I ask unenthusiastically as I stir.

“Dizzy, Squeaky and Squirmy, and Celia. They’re part of the new student program. Also Hades almost escaped, which left Mal a little drained.” Uma smirks. “I think our time approaches soon.”

I scrunch my nose. “Hades? Why in Auradon would he try to escape? He’s got no authority here, only in the underworld. But whatever. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.” I shoot her a kidding glance when she flinches. “Only joking. Since you’ve given me the thumbs up, whaddya say we go meet the new students?”

“No.” Uma shakes her head and goes to grab some sushi out of the fridge. “It’s still too risky. Besides, from how Mal reacted to Hades I’d say she’s not gonna accept you too quickly. Have you seen how much security she’s got? One look at you and they’ll send you off to the Towers for sure!”

This news makes my concerns grow darker. “Towers? As in… like a prison?”

Uma doesn’t answer right away, deciding if she should say more. “Now that Mal’s declared a witch hunt for me, no offense, she had Ben build a prison called the Towers for criminals. Since they’re trying to eventually reopen the barrier she thought it’d be safer to have that instead.”

Each word sends me spiraling deeper into the doubt and fear that’s been creeping into my head. After everything I’ve done… everything I’ve worked for… How can they act so cold?

My silence leads Uma to become uneasy. “You ok Sparky?”

I shake my head as purple flames keep flashing from my hands, the entire cave starting to shake. I look to Binx for help, but all he can offer is expression of pity.

“Somewhere deep in me I always thought I’d never be able to change their minds, never be accepted as someone… normal. And since when does Ben just go along with whatever Mal says? He should know me better and speak on my behalf! He- They- I… I’m done playing by their perfect rules!”

I grab my cloak and storm out onto the beach with Uma rushing after me.

“Where are you going?”

“To sulk someplace where my heritage is supposed to be locked up, and maybe find a new purpose for myself.”

With that I spin and vanish in a cloud of purple smoke.

#carlos descendants #carlos de vil x reader #descendants carlos #mal descendants #evie descendants #jay descendants #audrey descendants #uma descendants #ben descendants #harry hook descendants #mary sanderson #winifred sanderson #sarah sanderson #binx hocus pocus #hocus pocus

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