#how can William be mentally stable

[caramelcactus]

Oh haha yay fellow depressed William Afton truther! Haha yeah that guy is barely holding on by a thread is he (neither are we)

Neither are we really. Ironically this guy is the embodiment of how I have been feeling for the last six months

Just wait until I drop the info about my other William. Androids!William is sane compared to him

[captain039]

PART 6 (Last Part) He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, intimacy, violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers, angst, hurt/comfort, PTSD, trauma

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

Previous part <-

You haven’t left your room for a week you think. You sat in the corner mostly, your body would engulf in flames and you scream out in pain before exhaustion took over and they stopped before your body would regenerate. You’ve melted the door shut in the bomb shelter training area. Nobody could get through that or the thick concrete walls so you stay here making yourself safe making everyone else safe.

It feels more than dying an agony deep in the pit of your heart and stomach. It’s not just the pain it’s being away from him. You didn’t realise how much you truely imprinted on him, how you truely believed in that cell he was your alpha, it was the only thing that kept you going. You don’t feet hunger or thirst, thankfully there was a small bathroom through a little door in the shelter you could use. You hadn’t showered though, you don’t think you’ve brushed your teeth either. Charles tries to speak to you, Jean tries too but you just engulf in flames and cry out in pain knowing they feel it too. You want to rot away, wither into the ground or burn to death. You can’t die though, whatever they did it succeeded and you cannot die. No matter how much you burn you always heal too quickly always in between the stage of major burns and healing skin. You can’t cry anymore, barely able to move from this cold floor.

The doors ruined covered in slash marks and dents. He’s tried getting in so many times and failed. It kills him, he thinks that this is truely what dying feels like. Charles had kept you stable the whole flight and like a machine you walked down to the old bomb shelter and sealed yourself in. He hears every time you shout in agony before you pass out, his knuckles go raw and bloody every time before they heal. He’s begged Jean and Charles to do something but every time they try to connect there’s your pain in their features and they can’t hold even while you sleep. He hasn’t left the door since you got here, he knows he smells and his stomach is hollow. Jean brings him food and water but he doesn’t eat, knowing you’re not eating. He saw everything they did to you, made him watch like it was a damn cinema. Watched you burn yourself to death then heal just as quick. Watched every time they brought you back to the table, the exhaustion in your features, the sunken ness of your eyes, the black bags and pale skin before the regeneration kicked in. He knew though, knew you were exhausted and ready to give up and all he could do was watch. This woman that captured you both was a legacy of William Stryker same kind of fucked up though. She kept him on a heel, forcing him to give blood, bone marrow, tissue samples whatever the hell they wanted. He knew that look of panic to well and seeing it on your innocent face broke his heart. He was yours body and soul, heart and mind, he needed to be with you right now, needed to help you, help his omega.

You jolt when a red flash blares through the door and Logan’s raging in. Your whole body goes on edge begging him to stay the hell away so you don’t hurt him. He’s pissed or so you think, the look on his face, tight jaw and stern eyes as he quickly covers the length of the bunker. You sob and beg him not to come close but he’s there, arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. You feel like lead and breathe him in fully. Your body reacts to your alpha and you almost collapse. You cry now, a burst dam down your face as he holds you tightly. Your arms go around him holding yourself as close as you can to him. You stay like that till you can’t cry anymore and exhaustion takes over.

“Logan” you mumble feeling like you’re going to collapse.

“I got you” he whispers. He smells just as bad as you, but his alpha scent is fully through your senses.

“We’re going to go have a bath, and get some sleep” he says, it’s not a request though and all you can do is nod.

“Up” his hands move to your thighs and you flush.

“Logan I’m too he-“ you go speak looking to him.

“Up, omega” he repeats and raises an eyebrow. You manage to jump and he lifts you easily, your arms going around his neck and his under your thighs. You rest your head on his shoulder, walk past Jean and Charles. You can’t look at them so you hide your face. You’re worried about engulfing in flames again, the simmering anxiety always there. He walks to the upper level, going down the hall before going into a room, his room.

“Logan” you mutter.

“I’ll burn everything down in here” you add with guilt. He thinks about it knows your right and lets out a small growl before he’s turning and heading to the direction of your room. He sets you down on the bed, that’s been replaced, as has the carpet and bedside tables. You run your hands over the sheets a light grey colour. Logan heads to the bathroom and starts to run the water before he’s back out in the bedroom. He closes the door and locks it before turning back to you. He looks worn out, probably how you look too, his hair a mess his beard unkept. You see the tears well in his eyes and feel it pang in your stomach.

“I’m sorry” you mutter trying to control your emotions.

“No, no don’t you dare apologise” he’s over quickly hands cupping your cheeks and wiping your tears. He takes a small breath closes his eyes as a tear rolls down his cheek. He presses your foreheads together as you cry. His thumb caresses your cheek as you lift a hand to hold his wrist.

“The bath” you mutter and he curses before going to the bathroom. He comes back out, leaning down to pick you up again, but you stand in shaky legs. You give him a small smile and he sighs but allows you to walk to the bathroom. You don’t dare look at the mirror as you settle down to sit on the toilet to take your shoes and socks off. Logan’s there instantly though the alpha kneeling and taking off your shoes and socks which no doubt stink. You’re embarrassed but he doesn’t care, his brows frowning as he concentrates. He glared at the suit given to you by the people who captured you and he growls softly. You cup his face this time and his eyes are instantly on you softening. You stroke his cheek feeling the course hair before you gulp a little and lean closer. He meets you and presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss that has you melting.

“Sorry” you mutter dropping your hands.

“Why?” He frowns a little breathless.

“My breath stinks” you mumble and he laughs the noise waking up something inside you as you smile.

“Bath’ll get cold” he says softly and you nod. You stand as he does and curse this suit. You strip without thinking, wanting to be rid of it. You glare at it as you kick it off with shaky legs before glancing up to Logan who has turned his back to you. You lift your hand to his shoulder only to freeze when you see flames dancing along your skin.

“Logan get out!” You yell in a panic as he turns around and sees your arm.

“Omega! Omega calm down” he says as you shake and whimper. He whispers your name softly a few times hands cupping your face as you try to back away. You’ve closed your eyes too scared to open them.

“Look at me” he whispers and you shake your head.

“Look at me omega” he says and your forced too open them. You breathe deeply seeing that they’re only flickering softly before disappearing. You stare at your arms then his face as he nods.

“Easy” he says softly and you nod. He helps you into the bath eyes never leaving your face as you sigh and feel your muscles relax. He goes to the bathroom cupboard, grabs out some new soaps, shampoo and conditioner, a sponge and a hair brush. He empty’s a container and rinses it out before lying on the bathtub side. He wets the sponge before showing you two bottles of body wash. You point to the left and he pours some on before gently washing your arms and shoulders. You feel hot again, your cheeks no doubt red at the affection the alpha gives you. Neither of you say a word and when you find flames dancing on your skin he sends out calming alpha pheromones to calm you down instantly. He washes your hair with gentle care and tenderness, you try to hide your tears as they come but your alpha knows as he mutters soft words. he presses kisses to your head your temples, your cheek while he washes you. You’ve washed and brushed your teeth, the waters gone cold though and you silently wish it didn’t so you could stay here. He dips his hand in the water and frowns though.

“Come on” he helps you out and wraps a towel around you before his arms go around you too.

“You’ll get wet” you mumble and he grunts in response making roll your eyes slightly.

“You need a shower too” you mutter.

“Saying I stink?” He says teasing to his tone as you huff quietly.

“I am” you tease back hearing and feeling him chuckle against you.

“Go dry and get dressed, I’ll be there in a minute” he mutters against your head before he presses his lips to it and lets you go.

“Take more than a minute please” you quietly sass and he growls teasingly before you leave the bathroom.

You sit on the bed in the towel, staring at the floor as images flash through your mind of what happened. You take a small breath listening to the shower as you walk over to the wardrobe. You put on some pyjamas and dry your hair before the shower stops. You feel. Numb. You’re clean thankfully but numb, you need to sleep, a proper sleep not passing out from exhaustion and waking up in agony. You need to find out what the hell they did to you too. Logan can’t stay here, your alpha can’t stay here not while you’re unstable, he may regenerate, but your fire, they’ve done something to it, made it even more dangerous.

You leave Logan, in the morning and go down to the training bunker. There’s a small bedroom attached to the bathroom where you stay. The doors been fixed already thankfully. It’s safer down here for everyone including your alpha.

“What are you doing down here?” You hear Logan’s gravely voice and sigh.

“I am trying to protect you! Can’t you see that I will kill you now!” You yell without thinking.

“Then do it, I don’t care” his voice is low and deadly serious and you struggle to breathe as you walk out the room and meet him in the bunker.

“You don’t get to choose where I stay or go” he says eyes narrow and brows furrowed.

“What part of I will kill you don’t you understand!” You shouldn’t yell at him, certainly not an alpha as strong as him.

“I will burn you, they did something to me!” You add body getting hotter and flames dancing on your skin.

“And I watched! I saw every fucking thing!” He growls back and your eyes go wide.

“They made me stay in a cell and watch like I was in a damn cinema with front row seats” he’s an inch away from you and your body trembles.

“I’m staying right here by my omegas side whether she likes it or not, burn me to hell I don’t care” his eyes are intense and you sag defeated.

“Look at me” he mutters and you lift your head.

“I’m yours, I’m not going anywhere, you’ll control it, Jean and Charles will figure it out whatever they did to you” he cups your cheeks and you melt against the alpha.

“You’re my omega it’s my job as alpha to protect, provide and care for you” you feel tears well in your eyes and give a small nod.

“Ok?” He whispers.

“Ok”

Taglist:

@beanhardy

@gimmethatdilf

@the141bandicoot

@twinky-wink

@bontensbabygirl

@meowmeowyoongles

[bucknastysbabe]

Forget me not or I’ll forget myself - Aegon II x Reader

And I pray that all the poppies they.

They will just fade away.

But fields of poppies they remain.

That's how they found me last time, dead

Rozz Williams - Flowers

Rating: Mature/Explicit

A/N: I just wanted a glimpse into how dreary the keep was before all things went to real Hell

Tags: Angst galore, burned Aeg after rook’s rest, younger sister reader, one sided love, heartbreak, handies, Poor Aeg, TW: opium usage, extreme pain, burns and blood, Helaena’s mental state, self harm, dub-con, mistaken identity, Alicent tries, sad ending

Alicent would let you finally enter Aegon’s quarters, where he laid asleep. She wouldn’t let you see him when the maesters were tending to the burns, the cries of your dear brother’s agony filling the halls.

Then silence. The silence frightened you more than anything. Helaena couldn’t comfort you, you could barely comfort her in her massive grief. Alicent and Aemond had to tend to the war. Ser Criston had joined them.

So it was just you and your two handmaidens, who had been shrugged off recently as you had become agitated. You couldn’t leave the keep and you worried for your dear dragon. Instead you wept and waited and wept, listening for his voice.

You had a betrothal but the recent upheaval had rendered it moot. You were glad because all you ever wanted was Aegon, flawed and irresponsible as he was. A Maester shuffled by and you hopped up, hands nervously tearing at your dress.

“Yes princess? He is stable, just bringing some sustenance and more milk of the poppy after I change his bandages.”

“The Dowager Queen said I may sit with the King, sir.”

The man held out an arm for you to grab, murmuring gently, “This will not be a pretty sight m’lady. Our king is holding strong but, ahem, dragonflame has done its damage,” the elder Maester paused, “Mayhaps you can hold his undamaged hand while I change the linens?” You nodded vigorously, heart beating faster and faster.

A Kingsguard silently opened the door to the dimly lit room. It looked much different than when Viserys was there. The replication of Valyria your father worked on was moved to underneath the keep at the behest of Aegon.

You could see Aegon’s form on the wide bed, covered in oozing bandages, his arm tightly wrapped. The Maester shushed you, “Quiet now my princess, he is in a delicate state.” Holding a trembling hand over your mouth you followed the short Maester, who directed for you to sit on the other side of the bed.

Aegon shifted and mumbled, half of his gorgeous face covered in linen. You hoped it wasn’t as bad as Viserys had become. The gaping holes, gnashing teeth.

“Sire, it’s Maester Merand, I’ve come to change your linens for Orwyle. Your younger sister is here.”

A bloodshot purple eye hazily regarded you. He rasped, lungs and throat still charred from fire, “Dear sister, you don’t need to see this. Please.” You shook your head and grabbed his scabbed but not severely burnt hand, squeezing. Your breath came out a warble as you tried not to cry, “You need family big brother, let me stay please?”

He regarded the Maester, then back to you, “Hold me tight songbird.” Hot tears streamed down your face as he opened his mouth for a bite to be put in, hand gripped roughly around your smaller one. Another Maester, younger, shuffled in to assist with a wooden table of sorts.

Merand hummed and dosed Aegon with the milk of the poppy through the bite-piece, your brother’s body immediately going lax with a soft moan. The elder Maester said, “Be still and hold him, that is all your King needs.” You nodded, more tears staining your ashen cheeks. They unpeeled the yellowish bandaging, Aegon’s body stiffened as he began to howl— purple eyes wide with pain.

His hand shook and trembled you putting your other hand on top and shushing, “Shhh, it’ll feel better after, gods bless you.” He screamed louder as Merand rubbed a balm on the burnt flesh of his cheek, ear and neck. The scarring ran twisted hot and angry down his torso.

“Just fucking kill me you beast!,” Aegon hissed through his bite. His hand hurt yours but you bared it for dear Aegon.

Your brows furrowed as they patched up his body and head. Aegon writhed in pain when they unwrapped the arm, the worst from what you had heard. Metal fused to flesh. You held back a retch at the sight, eyes blown wide, unable to stop staring at the blackened twisted flesh.

“Gods please! No more! Strike me down for my sins, anything other than this,” he raged.

Still you held on. The younger Maester had to come and hold him down as Aegon jerked around so much. Your brother hissed, cursed, and wept by the end of the process. Merand gently lifted him up into a sitting position, you moving to follow along. They had to get his back and shoulder now.

Then it was over. Merand dosed him with some healing herbal concoctions and a hearty amount of milk of the poppy. Aegon sobbed softly, tears staining his new bandages. You stroked away a tear on his new cheek as the man began to fade into those dreamless poppy slumbers.

“May I stay Maester Merand?,” you asked.

He fiddled with a chainlink before humming, “I don’t think you would be causing any issues. My assistant will be back for supper. Just let him rest and be there for your king.”

The table, sounds of metals clinking, and shuffling stopped. Only the burning of the wooden wicks and Aegon’s ragged breathing filled the room. His hand was still intertwined with your own, but loosened from sleep. You pet his silver hair, singing the songs he used to demand from you over and over again, drunkenly smiling like you meant the world to him.

“Sing songbird sing,” he’d cheer, cheeks rosy and full lips split into a grin.

Your lips trembled as you cried over him, eventually falling asleep when you grew numb from it all. They awoke you and him for supper, letting you spoon feed Aegon the soup. He said in a slurred murmur, “You’re too kind songbird. Didn’t you..have..have a betrothal?”

“War broke out remember? No time for a wedding and I have a dragon.”

He frowned slightly. Aegon slurped softly and swallowed. “Right..I’ll find you a husband when I feel better. It’s much less…the word..uh…lonely when you’re here. So that will wait.”

Your heart hurt. You didn’t want to be married, but the chance of having him was impossible. You’d just spend the time you could while he healed, pretending to be the dutiful wife. You stroked his soft hair and hummed, “Would you like me to sing you a tune to sleep? I have your poppy milk.”

He sighed, “Please.”

Off he slumbered, to the tune of The Dornishman’s wife. His favorite bawdy song. You wept again. You wondered if that’s all you were capable of now. For now you’d go and change, bathe, actually see your handmaidens before returning. Hopefully your mother will be absent so she couldn’t see your wrecked state.

Feeling more refreshed, you stared at your lilac eyes in the mirror. Much lighter than Aegon’s, but your hair was the same, soft waves of white. Cyrella wove your locks into pretty braids. You’d decided to go see Helaena today, since your other lady Jaina had informed you the Dowager Queen was in Aegon’s quarters for the changing of his linens.

Climbing to her chambers you could already hear maddened weeping. You knew Maelor and Jaehaera were largely taken care of by a Septa and wetnurse. Coming into her room you gasped. It was a mess, shredded and priceless items broken. Helaena, her once gorgeous hair— a rats nest. It smelled of unwashed linens and sickness. Sickness of the mind.

“Hel? It’s me, your sister.”

She peered at you with wide purple eyes, red rimmed and shot out. She murmured, “Sister.” Then returned to rocking by the window. You drew closer to her, slowly, eventually kneeling by her side. Helaena only wore a stained shift, dirtied and bloody. You noticed the claw marks on her wrists and sucked in a breath.

“Hel?”

Your elder sister stared forward, mumbling incoherence about blood and cheese cheese and blood blood blood! She shouted the last part at you, making you topple backward some. You grabbed her arm and held tight from her thrashing and wailing, pinning her grief stricken figure to the ground until she stilled.

Helaena howled with agony, “I didn’t know, I’m so sorry, it should’ve been me! Jaehaerys forgive me!” She cried in hoarse agony, shaking underneath. You let her cry until she softly moaned her dead child’s name. Petting her skinny side you murmured, “Let me draw you a bath, okay? Just one. Then I will leave you be.”

She nodded, “Okay.”

You scrubbed her scabbed body, taking care to clean and remove any dirt or budding infection. Helaena stated, “I can’t get clean. It’s under the skin. All of us. Foul blood.” Ignoring her statement you worked on Hel’s scraggly hair while a handmaiden clipped sharpened nails to the nub. It would at the least stop the severity of the wounds.

Helaena’s hair was falling out in thick chunks, you holding back tears as you got her blonde waves back into order. Your elder sister asked, “Will the gods forgive me?” You patted her back and hummed, “The Mother knows your pain, she will take mercy on you. That I know Helaena dear. Let’s get you to bed.”

The room was cleaned and bed changed while you took care of the queen. She stated in that glassy way of hers before you left, “Thank you. The walls will bleed black and scorching sister.”

An uneasy feeling settled in your gut. Hands clenched in your dress you walked through Maegor’s Holdfast, going to see Aegon for the night.

The regal frame of your mother exited as you approached the chamber. She eyed you strangely, but pulled you into a hug with a deep sigh. “It’s horrid around here mummy,” you whimpered. Unbidden tears fell down your cheeks as your mother held you tighter, letting you cry it out.

“All I can do is cry. I feel so alone and half of my family is here mum.”

Her brows furrowed in distress, slim hands on your arms. Alicent said, “You’re doing the best you can dearest. I’m very proud of you. Tending to Aegon, he mentioned you singing to him.”

You smiled gently, but grew teary again.

“I visited Helaena. Washed her and got the room changed. I fear she may…do something drastic mummy. Sh-she’s clawing at her skin, saying she can’t get clean.” Alicent kissed your forehead, hands clasping slim shoulders. “You and Daeron. My sweetest babes. I’ll have to install someone for Helaena. The gods smile upon you and I will pray for your pain. I love you, so, so much. Go be there for him.”

You nodded shakily, hugging your mother again for what felt like forever. It was a temporary balm for your aching soul. She left, presumably to your sister’s quarters. You entered to Aegon who was hazy and trembly after what seemed like a fresh change of linens.

You clambered onto the huge bed, checking Aegon’s face for discomfort. He was barely awake, nodding off in short bursts. His lash’s fluttered over his face. The king murmured, “Oh, it’s been so long. I’m glad you’re here.”

“So long since what my King?”

“I’ve been held, touched, caressed,” he listlessly rambled.

His good hand, already intertwined with yours, drug it toward the bulge between his legs. Aegon cheerily slurred, “S’at red bitch didn’t burn it.” You inhaled sharply, eyes widening. He wanted you to pleasure him? You were a maiden. Aegon’s eyes remained closed but he shot you a dopey grin, “C’mon jus’ a hand will you? Know it’ll be good.”

Your nethers twitched and you looked around like a spy may arrive any second. Oh how you wanted this for life. Aegon wanting you, you only. The guilt for Hel ate at your spine, but lust won out.

“Yes my king, I’ll take care of you.”

“Good girl,” he rasped, head swaying. They must’ve messed up the dosage, Aegon was strangely semi-coherent. You knew there was slick involved in this carnal action. Turning around you found something labeled “aloe” and poured it onto your left hand. Your cheeks began to grow darker at the task at hand.

“Quit bein’ a maiden, M’ready sweets,” he cooed.

You batted his good hand away and unlaced his breeches, pulling out his flushed cock. You whimpered under your breath. It was ruddy and leaking, for you, for you! Hastily you covered the stiff member with your thickly slathered aloe and squeezed tentatively, unsure what to do.

Aegon arched a bit and huffed, “Y’know what to do, playin coy, squeeze and pull, twis’ on the head. I’m burned nuh’ impotent!”

You did as he asked, your hand squelching luridly as Aegon panted and moaned softly. You felt as if you were burning up, an inquisitive hand coming down to cup his heavy sac, his voice growing deeper and more needy.

“There we go, good baby, yesss, yes.”

He was biting his plump lip when your twisting hand focused on the top, liking the way he’d subtly whimper when you’d slide a thumb across the pretty crown. He gasped, “Fuck yes, ah, who brought you up here? Gonna cum!”

Brought you up here? He was delirious, whatever.

“Please my king, come for me,” you begged, so eager to receive his affections. His right hand curled into your waves, pulling you close to his mouth, sharing light kisses, gentle as not to irritate. He panted into your mouth as his cock twitched and spurt onto your hand and his belly.

“Oh, fuck, Selys, Selys baby, thank you. Whoever brought you to me deserves some dragons. Tell the kingsguard to sneak you out, my little sister will be coming, sadly too soon.”

You sat back with a strangled noise, mortification flooding your system. You wiped your disgusting hands all over the covers, soft sobs starting to bubble up. In a rush you pulled back from Aegon’s embrace, belly twisted and chest aching.

“Selys?”

You whimpered, “M’not fucking Selys, why would they bring a whore that could poison you?”

Aegon’s poppy induced state cleared somewhat from shock, him leaning up with a choked noise. He echoed your name, eyes flicking down to his cock and your flushed face, pretty waves, and broken posture. You held yourself tightly and apologized, “I should have known, you were under the poppy, I should’ve just left.”

Aegon struggled further but the pain laid him back down. He sounded desperate, “No, songbird, I-I- I didn’t know, that was sick. Don’t leave me please? You’re all that’s good here.”

“Sadly soon,” you sobbed.

His face crumped in guilt, rage, frustration. You steeled yourself some, compacting that soft gaping maw of love and tenderness for him in a dark place. Maybe to be opened later. Aegon reached for you, pathetically pleading, “Don’t leave me, they always do, don’t.”

“I’ll see if I can seek Selys for you. I thought you wanted me, Aeg. For once.”

He faltered for words, eyes glassy and saddened.

“Good night my King. I’ll send a Maester for more medicine. You strained yourself.”

You ignored the desperate pleas for your name. He really didn’t know any better, you shouldn’t be so cruel. But when your heart was cracked and bleeding on the floor it was hard not to be cold.

Ser Criston was in the hall, making his way for Aegon’s quarters. He did a double take, stopping to peer at your swollen face and mussed hair. You flatly stated, “They didn’t get his dosage right, he’s in pain.” The hand frowned and asked, “What is wrong?”

“I do not wish to speak of it. Where is Prince Regent Aemond?”

Criston stared at you with a look of worry, lips moving in thought. He sighed, “In the library my princess.”

Off your went, holding back sobs of rage and utter sadness.

“Duskmere is ready for battle. Send me to Daeron, the north, wherever. I am tired of sitting around here. I thirst for black blood, brother of mine.”

Aemond stared at you long and hard before his thin lips turned into a calculated smile. The one-eye hummed, “Splendid sister. Was waiting for you to stop mooning over the invalid and our mad sister. We plan later this evening.”

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

What’s your pov on her pregnancies? Of the body or surrogate?

I'm opening Pandora's Box tonight in honor of the eclipse.

I'm 80/20.

20% of the body because:

There are tiny skinny-Minnie people in my family who didn't gain any weight during their pregnancies except in their faces and in the baby bumps (as photographs of Meghan depict), so I know it's possible.

That one appearance of Meghan where she accompanied Harry but hid backstage until he cajoled her out. She was not looking her best that day (very puffy, bloated face) and seemed a bit angry, to me, at being called out/forced onto the stage to stay hello.

Padding the bump - which some celebs do, especially when their bump isn't the typical "cute" baby belly - can explain the difference in sizing day-to-day.

How early it was announced.

How long it took Meghan to lose the baby weight - she was still carrying a lot of extra weight at Trooping 2019 (and the weight gain was amplified for me by poor styling choices with her hair, hat, and outfit).

80% surrogacy because:

There was no PR about Meghan's pregnancy compared to Kate's, and Meghan has always done the "anything Kate can do I can do better" PR competition every chance she could. If Meghan had terrible morning sickness, it'd have been all over the tabloids about how much worse than Kate Meghan's morning sickness is. If Meghan didn't have any sickness, it'd have been all over the tabloids about how much better and hard-working Meghan is during her pregnancy.

The excessive belly-groping and coat-flicking. Yes, she was doing that on purpose to get all the cameras and attention, but IMO she was doing it so excessively that it crossed into "the lady doth protest too much" territory for me.

The bending over and squatting down with knees and feet together. I've never been pregnant but I am a bigger girl who carries her weight in her midsection and who also cannot bend or squat down with knees, ankles, and feet together.

The alleged deal she had with Trevor that if she had a baby, he would pay for a personal trainer and a nutritionist and a nanny so she could whip her body back into shape. That's not someone who wants to be pregnant (but of course, people *can* change their minds. But still.)

The "rules of engagement" that Meghan and Harry sent to their Windsor neighbors/community about how the neighbors couldn't speak to the Sussexes or take their photographs.

The inconsistencies between what Harry reported in Spare and what the Portland Hospital's actual procedures are and the people who were involved.

Meghan choosing to deliver at Portland instead of Lindo and refusing to serve the baby on a silver platter after birth. The Lindo photocall is one of Diana's five* iconic photos. Are you telling me that Meghan happily copies Diana's outfits, copies Diana's pregnancy woes (emotional/mental distress to the point of self-harm), copies Diana's complaints about the BRF and the grey suits, copies Diana's second pregnancy announcement, and copies Diana's Panorama makeup...but she draws the line at copying Diana's Lindo photoshoots? And has a controlled photoshoot with one television camera and one photographer instead?

Meghan's birth "stories" matching more of the American Hollywood stereotypes than actual British practice.

Just one papwalk during all of her second pregnancy.

Hiding her belly with a giant-ass purse during the NYC baby shower after having spent the evening partying with friends, including Markus Anderson.

Harry's first appearance after Archie's birth being in the horse stables at Windsor instead of around the hospital (as William and Charles had been) and also Harry's "babies change so much in two weeks" comment.

Tacky social media influencer games with Archie's first photos under the guise of "privacy" - showing us the back of his head first, or his hand or his foot. Just show us the damn baby. No one cares about him that much.

Editing Archie's birth certificate.

Sara Latham bungling the media strategy for Archie's birth announcement. (Let's be real here. It's not Kensington Palace that fucked it up. It was the Sussexes' own people giving KP the wrong information in the first place.)

In the same vein of Meghan's "anything Kate can do I can do better" PR competition, there have been no stories about how Meghan felt of the early baby days. Kate and her family/friends have gone on record about how difficult the first few weeks with George were. Where is Meghan's equivalent? If Archie was a terrible newborn, then where are the stories about how much worse than Kate Meghan had it? Or if Archie was a happy, easy newborn, then where are the stories about how easy Meghan found motherhood? Instead the only story we got was "oops, it's feed time. Gotta go. Peace."

How early the pregnancy was announced.

How quickly (and suspiciously) the clinic/practice that Meghan used for her second pregnancy closed soon after Lili was born.

On that note, I don't subscribe to the theory that a lot of you may have (and which has ended up in my inbox quite a few times) that Archie doesn't know who Meghan is because he didn't smell her milk in South Africa and had a reaction. First off, PLEASE stop sending me that. I REALLY don't want to read about Meghan's breasts anymore.

Second, I don't think the Sussexes having nannies to help care for Archie is the kiss of death that many of you think it is. Some people just aren't baby people or little kid people. Some people like the older years better, when the kid can talk and is a little more independent and mobile. I've always suspected that that's Meghan and Harry, because all of their PR about wanting kids or liking kids has alwas featured older school-aged kids. They're not baby/toddler/early years people. And that's OK. That's not something to condemn them for.

And I don't think it's fully fair to call them out on their hypocrisy of what they said they wouldn't do as parents before they had children. Some of the hypocrisy is deserved (like the comment about not dressing their kids as Victorian ghost children but then turning around and giving Lili a Victorian ghost child dress for her 1st birthday photo), but they do deserve more grace than they're sometimes given; people just don't know how hard parenting or having children is until the baby is here. Yes, ding them for saying they'd never have a nanny but then turning around and hiring two or three, but also let's acknowledge that they know they can't (or don't, or won't, however you want to say it) care for their own kids themselves and hired responsible caretakers.

Finally third, I don't think Meghan ever breastfed those kids. Maybe she tried in the beginning with Archie, but if she did, she gave up pretty quickly. Those kids are formula babies. That's OK! So I don't buy the theory she was taking hormones and her weight gain was hormone-induced. Again, it's because of the missing "anything Kate can do I can do better" competition here.

*Diana's top 5 iconic photos are (in no particular order) the wedding dress portrait, the Lindo photos, the Taj Mahal photo, the Panorama photo, and the Revenge Dress photo.

[cybercasket]

Sally Williams headcanons

(CW for discussion of coping with death + trauma. I go in-depth into Sally's mentality towards what happened, but I don't talk about the trauma itself.)

To start things off, this is based off of Sally's official character sheets (2017/most recent sheet) (2013) and what I remember from the story more than they are the fandom's perception of her. These headcanons might make more sense if you check those out first!

🧸 According to her creator La-Mishi-Mish, her body's age can change. She's chronologically in her 60s, mentally + spiritually 12 (her age at death), and typically appears 8. She used to have the ability to turn any age she wanted, but it got retconned because La-Mishi-Mish kept getting called out for being irresponsible and creepy with it.

So, I think that Sally's form can shift ages to some extent, though it's mostly subconscious and based on her state of mind. It's a little bit like the early Steven Universe episode "So Many Birthdays" except a bit more stable.

🎀 Sally is actually deathly afraid of becoming older, and does everything she can to maintain the persona of an innocent 8 year old girl.

To her, 8 was one of the last few good years of her short life--afterwards is when everything became bad and wrong, and she was subject to so much judgement, criticism, responsibility, and predatory behavior from the people around her that she couldn't handle at the time.

She's afraid that being much older than 8 will make her a target.

🎠 Sally romanticizes being younger a lot, though she also likes the way it makes other people perceive her. By behaving more incompetent, temperamental, and oblivious than she really is, she can make people believe that she's cute, innocent, and incapable of wrong. She has a strong internalized belief that being older is dangerous, while being younger is safe.

🧸 She age regresses intentionally (from 12 to 8) by heavily focusing on her more childish interests (eg. Dolls, girl toys, and princesses) and by pushing away/repressing parts of her that she seems too mature or grown-up (eg. Certain words, ways of speaking, and knowledge/awareness she has).

🎀 According to her creator, Sally spends a lot of time in the woods near her house playing with kids at the local playground.

I think she is absolutely DEDICATED to the act of being a completely normal 8 year old girl. She'll bandage the bleeding from her head, watch all their shows, learn all their games and slang, and even collect the toys they like so she can fit in and play with them.

🎠 Lately though, she's been having to tell kids that her parents don't let her use her iPad much. There's always a bit of an adjustment period for her between each new generation of kids, but she really struggles to wrap her head around Gen Alpha's modern technology.

🧸 Speaking of technology... She's not good at it. For a long time she didn't really bother to learn since stuff like computers and phones were associated with older people, and her not knowing how to use them fed into an image of her being cute and childlike. However, it's genuinely bewildering and confusing to her.

🎀 Do NOT play Roblox with her, it will take 20 minutes for her to join your game and she won't know the first thing about how to play it 😭😭😭. Though with enough patience, you could probably get her hooked on something like Adopt Me.

She's not good at other games either, though she usually doesn't try in competitive video games (eg. Mario Kart) on purpose because she doesn't really understand them, and likes seeing how happy the people she's playing with get when they win :-).

🎠 She has a ton of excuses memorized for why her parents are never there with her at the playground, and why the parents of other kids can't meet her parents.

Sometimes it doesn't work out so well, and she has to spend a few hours trying to find a way to wiggle out of a missing person's report... She usually hangs out farther away from where the adults are to avoid ending up in awkward situations like that.

🧸 Over time, her perception of her years from 0-8 and her years from 9-12 became really polarized--in her mind, her younger years were all really good, happy, and romanticized, and her older years were completely terrible and miserable.

Like, in her head 1st and 2nd grade were happy and peaceful, meanwhile 4th and 5th grade were completely miserable and that's when her life became terrible. Realistically there was good and bad in both, but she isn't able to see it that way.

🎀 Everything past 9 for her is a blur until she has to connect with people closer to her death age, which then makes her shift her physical appearance back to where it'd normally sit. Her older years become a little bit easier to process in that state.

She tries to act a bit more like a "big kid" to fit in, but she's extremely out of practice since she's almost always acting 8, so she ends up coming off a bit immature.

🎠 She misremembers herself dying younger often.

🧸 She doesn't like throwing temper-tantrums (especially around strangers) because it's difficult to tell how people will react to them, however she plans them out strategically and WILL have them if it means she gets what she wants. She represses a lot of her emotions and releases them during these (Though she does have plenty of genuine breakdowns as well, since she's mentally 12 and has been suffering from PTSD and depression for the past 50 or so years.)

🎀 Maintaining her appearance as a young girl takes stamina/energy, though being 12 takes the least because it's more authentic to her.

🎠 According to Sally's creator, she also haunts her childhood home. I think her house is her safe space where she can be herself without worrying about how she's perceived by others.

It's really messy (she's a bit of a hoarder and only cleans when the mess becomes inconvenient to her,) and she has a huge collection of toys and books.

🧸 Her toy collection spans multiple decades, and she even still has some toys from back when she was alive deep in her collection somewhere in terrible condition. She doesn't usually have whole sets, just a few pieces here and there she decided to keep from the people she plays with (whether they left them at the playground or she decides to pocket something small she likes but the other kid doesn't seem to care about while they're playing) or from CVS or something.

🎀 Sally really likes reading, but she's a little self-conscious about it because she likes to read books that are far above the reading level and outside of the interests of the average 8 year old, like Pride and Prejudice. She also likes watching old movies from the 50s, 60s, and 70s, and has a secret obsession with Marilyn Monroe.

She also likes reading romance, but sex scenes trigger the hell out of her so when she comes across one, she gets out a giant black crayon (because black covers the words the best,) and just starts madly scribbling over it.

🎠 Sally likes horror a little bit too, because darker stories and themes often reflect how miserable she feels deep down. However, since she's 12 and doesn't have a large capacity for tolerating the heavier stuff, she usually keeps it light.

Most of it isn't worth much, but there's probably a couple things that are like $200 or something and she has no idea because she barely uses the internet.

🧸 When she runs out of stamina or gets too triggered, her body morphs into a very pale, bony, frail old woman with sunken cheeks. It's terrifying for both her and whoever witnesses it.

🎀 She doesn't kill, but I feel like it's less of a morality thing and more because she's too squeamish and also terrified of the consequences of getting aggressive/violent with someone who ends up attacking her back. Rapists in particular make her angry enough to almost want to kill.

🎠 She's emotionally attached to and chases Ben, but he doesn't reciprocate it. They're both technically the same age (both being dead at 12), but while Sally embraces her childishness and immaturity almost to a fault, Ben is deeply ashamed of and uncomfortable with his which leads to him feeling easily annoyed or disgusted by Sally. Basically, Ben is too much of an "Ew, that's for babies" type of kid to enjoy playing with Sally 😭😭.

[sassyfrassboss]

People forget how orchestrated and deliberate Charles’ words were in his first speech. William was made Prince of Wales right from the start and Harry was wished well with his life overseas. It suits Charles’ ego and keeps his numbers steady if he keeps being viewed as the long suffering father- people find more empathy for that in the long run. IF Harry would come back it’s under lock and key with the funds privately given out of Charles’ wallet. The main and crucial thing is as long as it’s not out of the public purse- Harry can be given a job as a stable boy at Dumfries house for all I care. I don’t think Charles waited 70 years just to have his mentally unstable darling boy come and trample over his plan within 2 years of his reign. I am not trying to make Charles lovable here at all, whatever he will do or won’t do will be based on personal strategy whether we agree with it or not.

If Charles wants to bring him back and buy Harry and country estate filled with horses and chickens, by all means, as long as Charles is paying for it along with any security.

If there was a time that Harry would have been welcomed back it would have been prior to Spare I think. Maybe even afterwards, but what sealed the deal was Omid leaking that it was Charles who was one of the royal racists and that they are letters in Meghan's possession confirming this.

I just don't see how Charles can get past something like that. Especially given Harry admitted in the Oprah interview the "racist" conversation was a private conversation between Harry and this individual.

[ko-garashi]

What are your headcannons?? 👀

Well, here are my headcanons about William Birkin's post-mutation (if there was one, of course):

- Probably the first and most important thing is the lack of the ability to independently restrain the human species. Due to the fact that the G-virus is not stable in its mutation, William has to take injections to contain the virus. They don't cure it, they just make the virus more dormant.

- William has a constant headache and painkillers do little to help him. But he retains his mental abilities as before.

- Post-mutation William is more aggressive and hot-tempered. Although he tries to control himself in order to remain as cool-blooded as possible and not mutate from any little thing that pisses him off. And by the way, he copes with this successfully.

- By the way! He returns to his mutated form if he misses a dose of the drug, or if he feels severe stress (any strong negative emotion). As well as various more tangible injuries. No, of course, it’s unlikely that it will suddenly mutate from a cut on the arm, but if the wound is serious... (it’s important that it’s just a wound and not an amputation).

- In addition, William does not age much externally and internally, or rather, his process is too slow to seem obvious (again, this is not 100%, because the virus is in him, but at the same time it is partially blocked by the serum).

- And about regeneration! If he loses a limb, it will take him a long time, but the G-virus will restore everything back. (with a simple wound, the body will only generate cells at the site where these cells are lost. And if there is no limb, then it will take longer to expend strength and time. Therefore, it is easier for the body to mutate from a wound than from amputation... But does this apply to the head? I doubt it. And I don’t want to check what will happen if you separate the head. He’s not a designer, right?)

- And he also has a fairly accelerated metabolism due to the virus in him. That's why he's often hungry.

- William can turn back from mutation to the human form only in the G1 phase. The longer he remains in mutation and mutates, the more his consciousness will become confused and lost until it is completely erased. Therefore, he is afraid to use the mutation and does not do it often.

- He is basically afraid of his mutation, and not even because it is not stable, but because William is afraid that he will lose himself.

- William's right eye is damaged by mutations and he periodically has difficulty seeing with it in human form. (I still haven’t figured out how to justify this... It seems that not all of us would feel good if strange metamorphoses happened before our eyes)

- His mutation sites are covered with scars reminiscent of burn scars. At first he was very complex about it, but then he got used to it.

- His scars often itch. Like a swarm of little ants under the skin.

- Even in human form, William has sufficiently developed strength. Of course, he is not as fast as Wesker and in his human condition he will not be able to beat the crap out of someone (along with internal organs), but still.

- Each time during the process of mutation and return to human form, William experiences unbearable pain in his body. It's like you're being torn into so many pieces.

(if one day I have more headcanons, I will add to the list)

[thepurplebacon]

How does Zadkiel and William in the same body work? Do you have any kind of difficulty controlling it or something like that?

The concept of the two of them is like flying an airplane. The two souls stay together and are ready together at any time, or one of them can control the body alone. It can be driven by two people or only one person can control it. But when two people have differences of opinion

At this time, there will be chaos, causing the control body to lose control of its mind, or it can only stay in place and wait for the two controlling people to mediate.

Otherwise, problems as small as falling while walking or as big as starting to go crazy and attacking people can happen. Only one person can control it. It is the most stable

Therefore, Zadkiel will ask everyone to keep a distance from him or leave him to avoid the sudden appearance of William or the conflict between the two at the same time

But as time goes by, people who stay in Springtrap will inevitably begin to lose their mental stability. They may even want to bite and destroy other people's bodies to obtain remnant simply for the support of their souls, or the simplest desire for destruction. Of course, the same is true for Zadkiel. He himself will gradually have the same tendency as William, so they are also resisting this instinctive drive.

This will also be a problem for them in controlling their bodies.

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Can the Redacted Characters Skateboard

Hi and welcome back to bullshit that I wrote while on a hiatus to avoid actually working on WIPs and then shoved into my scheduled posting so i didnt have to worry about it. 

Also if this has already previously been done, can someone please tell me so I can delete it because i dont wanna be a content thief. That always fucking sucks. (I say as I make up things about characters that Erik made up.)

Redacted Masterlist

OKAY LETS GOOO

Starting off strong with the Shaw pack and their respective partners.

David: Man had zero interest in actually learning to skateboard. He preferred learning to drive or ride a bike if he needed transportation. But he learned it with Asher when they were kids. Since being able to drive though he stopped practicing and now he’s rusty. He can skate and do basic ollies but that’s it.

Angel: No. They are clumsy. They get on a skateboard and immediately fall over. Wrap them in bubble wrap because they will get hurt but they will continue trying because they’re stubborn as all hell.

Asher: Yes. I headcanon he’s a skater boy so fucking hard you don’t understand. Man got obsessed with skating when he was in fifth grade and begged David to learn how to skate with him. He got so many injuries, Marie told him that she wouldn’t heal him for his skating injuries anymore. But he kept at it and when David started driving, he would be skitching to David’ car/truck all the fucking time. He also knows how to make his own boards and do a bunch of cool tricks.

Baabe: Baabe started to learn skating in middle school but then stopped. Asher taught them when they got together and now they go to skate parks and go on skating dates every now and then. it’s very cute. Asher made them a matching board to his.

Milo: No. This man sits on a board and uses both his feet and hands to make it move. He can at least balance on it unlike Angel but don’t ask him to push. He will fail and he will fall into traffic.

Sweetheart: They were able to skate in middle school but then stopped because they kept going invisible while on the street and people would try to stop a runaway skateboard. It ended up getting them and others injured so then they stopped. Now they’re too busy to see if they still retain any of their basic street skills.

Darlin: Abso-fucking-lutely. This is their main mode of transportation when they aren’t running. They continuously try to skate through the woods and fail every time because it’s not a stable enough surface. However they are a longboard user since they view street boards as hella cliche and they refuse. Also they like asking Asher to make longboards since he dislikes making the fuckers.

Sam: Yes. Especially post-turning. Man has reflexes and can make the skateboard go zoom with his vamp speed. But he doesn’t do it anymore because skateboarding at night can be kinda dangerous due to low visibility and he doesn’t like drawing attention to himself. 

Arden: yes. I just get skater girl vibes from her. I can’t explain why. But I could see Asher making her an eggboard cruiser.

Christian: No. He tried to learn so he could be better than Asher but he fails harder than Angel. Everyone thought it wasn’t possible, but he proved them wrong. Congrats Christian.

Amanda: No. She didn’t have any interest in learning.

Now onto the Solaire vamps!

William: I wanna say yes simply for the mental image of this fabulous man skating down the street while Vincent and Sam stare on in shocked horror, but Imma have to say no. He will finance skateboards, but he doesn’t know. Darlin did try to teach him how to skate with a longboard but he looked at the board then at them and politely declined.

Vincent: Are you kidding me? Of course this flamboyant fucker knows how to skate. He only got better when he was turned. He prefers driving cars, but he likes skitching to one of his cars while Lovely is driving. It’s very fun. But he continuously tries to do tricks with a longboard and fails every time since that’s not what they’re made for. He’s too stubborn to stop though. His streetboard is so scratched up please get it some TLC.

Lovely: They’re in the process of learning because Baabe and Asher told them about their skate dates and they think that’s cute. Vincent is a horrible teacher though so their learning is going very slowly.

Alexis: No. This is commoner activities and therefore below her.

Adam: No. He’s missing a head. Usually pretty important when one wishes to skate. Thoughts and prayers dude.

DAMN squad!

Huxley: FUCK YES! This dude is a skateboarding king. He has a cruiser though since he just likes the chill vibes of cruising everywhere. It’s especially helpful on campus.

Damien: No and it frustrates him to no end. Huxley has tried teaching him, but he’s not able to pick it up. And everytime he gets frustrated he ends up damaging the deck so he stopped trying.

Lasko: No. He’s way too anxious to be confident about his balance so he always falls whenever he tries to put his foot on the back deck. He’s content with just walking, thank you.

Lasko’s listener (Kinda excited to see what pet name they get.): Yes. The confidence that is dripping (heh get it?) from this being is tangible, even from just one video. They seem pretty confident in their abilities, so that would serve them well for skating. Whether I think they do skate or not is still kinda up in the air. I can kinda see them being like that on tiktok teacher who skates around in the building ona  cruiser. They give off a really chill teacher vibes (They literally wanted to start up a workplace romance, that seems pretty chill to me) so I could see them cruising down the hall with a stack of graded papers in their bag. Also they would totally skate during a storm. They’re a water elemental so they can probably control the element enough to make sure their wheels don’t slip too much. Lasko did say they were pretty good at their magic, so I could see them having that level of control.

Freelancer: Yes. Huxley taught them, so they only know about cruisers, but they’re okay with this. They get to cruise around campus and everything and it makes them feel cool. 

Gavin: He has no need for it, but Freelancer has been begging him so he relents. Huxley and Freelancer are teaching him right now. It’s slow going since he would much rather just tease them both though.

Caelum: No. He can’t. But he’s very energetic when following after Freelancer when he can. He’s happy they found another activity that helps loosen the knots inside them. He’s a hype-boyo. 

Meridian and Sovereign storyliners!

Vega: No. It’s a human custom so therefore he has zero interest in it. Also it holds no purpose to further his goals so why would he bother learning?

Warden: No. They were too busy to learn how and they also didn’t really care. It’s just a skateboard, but there are people that need their help. Also they’re too busy trying to fight off the never ending hunger.

Avior: He’s wanted to learn but has been a bit busy the past several months/hour. 

Starlight: They know the basic push and ollies so they can easily get around but that’s it. They’ve been a bit busy too. Plus they like walking. It’s good for them.

Cam: (he needs to be here for organization sake) He has a cruiser. It’s nice to be able to to take a small break and just go past some flowers or parks and soak up how everyone is having a pretty good day. He doesn’t get the chance very often though sadly.

Asset: Yes but only because they know everything and have the ability to go through with it. They have never stepped foot on a skateboard and don’t have any plans to.

Marcus: No he’s a whiny little baby bitch. He would fall into traffic.

James: No, he’s a runner not a skater. But we respect him for it.

James listener: Yes. They don’t wanna be a marathon runner like James, but they wanna be able to go with him during his runs so they have a cruiser and they know how to use it. That’s it though.

Anton: Yes. I can feel it in my bones, if the workplace was more chill he would have an eggboard and that would be how he’d get around within the facility.

Anton’s listener: No. I get a gentle plant parent vibe from them. But they like seeing how content Anton gets when he gets to skate.

Brian: (i think that’s his name) No. He just wants to go home to his family bro. Plus he plays tennis (hc). Being a tennis player makes him above skaters. (lovingly said.)

Blake: Yes and he’s annoyingly good at it. He impresses his listener every time he does because they always think he’s not gonna be any good and then he proves them otherwise. Whether they’re dreaming or not when they see this and are impressed is unimportant. What’s important is that he impresses them and has their attention. What, are you not feeling drowsy? Don’t worry about that, look at this cool flip he can do.

Blake’s Listener: They have a skateboard that they have not touched since 3rd grade. So no, they cannot. They don’t remember and they didn’t practice long enough as a kid for it to be in any kind of muscle memory.

Elliot: Absolutely. This is another born, raised, and bred skater boy. He loves putting stickers all over the underside of his deck. It looks like someone vomited the definition of multi-fandom all over it. He also needs to get a new board before his deck snaps in half, but he’s too attached to it to do so.

Sunshine: Yes. After their accident, they were a bit scared to drive again so they learned how to skate in an effort of alternate modes of transportation. It was a necessity. But they met Elliot at a skate park when they were practicing turning and he helped them out. They became friends and then you know how the story goes.

Brachium: No. He has no access but Sunshine has told him about skating and he’s happy for them.

Unempowered! 

Aaron: He got interested when Elliot got obsessed and he tried it out but then decided against actually dedicating time to learn. But he gave Elliot stickers to put on the deck.

Smartass: Aaron mentioned that he gave up learning while Smartass was half-asleep. The next morning they went out and bought a board to prove that they were going to learn and be better than Aaron. So they’re in the process of learning and everytime they feel like giving up because it offers nothing for them besides bragging rights, spite makes them continue. We wish them luck on their spiteful journey.

Ollie: No he doesn’t. He was more into playing board games inside then going outside to learn how to skateboard or anything. He knows his name is related to a skating maneuver but that wasn’t enough to make him have any interest.

Baby (Ollie): No. They’re content with playing board games with Ollie. They like being indoors instead of outdoors anyways.

Ivan: He learned but never put his skills to use. So theoretically he knows how to skate but we aren’t sure.

Baby (Pre-Vega’s Ivan): Yes. They learned with Ivan, and actually put the skills to use. So they do know how to skate and it’s a fun hobby for them to learn new little tricks.

Baby (post-Vega’s Ivan): No. They don’t. They didn’t have any interest and still don’t even after being freed and memory modified. Skateboarding isn’t for everyone and that’s fine.

Guy: yes and he’s horrible at it. He knows how but he likes messing up because then he can go to Honey about his “boo-boos”s and try to convince them to kiss the scrapes and bruises better. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Honey: Yes and they’re good at it. Their favorite thing to do when just skating around is a Dragon flip (also known as the 360 dolphin flip) they think it’s fun and they would do it continuously if they could. But every chance they get, they’re at least doing a dozen of them.

Geordi: He’s too anxious to actually be confident (like Lasko) but he really wants to learn. It seems less exhausting than running. He also thinks it looks cool.

Cutie: No they can’t, and street boarders thoughts are a bit too intense for them to even want to learn or try. They know Geordi wants to try, but they aren’t going to mention skateboarding because then they would have to worry about Geordi’s thoughts getting like the street boarder’s. 

Regulus: He’s invisible, we will never know if he’s a secret skater boy. He’s very good at doing flips inside your mind though.

Regulus Listener (Precious I think they’re called? Getting Gollum vibes ngl): Why do you need to go outside? Inside you can be with Regulus. That’s all you want, not to see if you can skate. Inside with Regulus, safe from those who want to take him away from you. To separate the two of you. Why are you crying? Oh, he understands. Those are tears of joy aren’t they? Don’t worry, he’ll wipe them from you as he makes you lay dormant to his every whim. Isn’t this the life you wanted?

[batsyforyou]

Of Elves and Men Part 1

Pairing: Beleg x reader 

Elvish Words: I mean Loth = flower as far as I’m aware but I don’t think there is anything else

Warnings: Brief mention of being buried alive, bugs crawling on reader, dark cave, betrayal, friends turned enemies, blood, the dead moving, one dead guy, implied beheading,  nightmares, hallucinations, sickness, character death, a slight mention of a baby at the end. If I missed anyone up here or in the tags please let me know. 

A/N: I should tell you that I don’t actually expect anyone to read all this but if you do, I love you dearly. This was heavily inspired by my mythology class. Also, this was originally called “Immortals” and I did change it. I’m sorry if there has been any confusion. I want to say that I had fun with this, but I didn’t. This story tried to kill me and frame me for murder at the same time. I felt so defeated over this fic I might actually have to take some time off tumblr to get some mental energy back. When I tell you I legit cried and went to sleep when this was done.

Warning I tried my hand at romance, but none of this came out the way I wanted. I don’t know if that means I wasted three months or what but yeah. Also, for the romance I did summarize some parts instead of writing all of it.

Thank you so much for the support @a-complation-upon-flowers and @asainbutnotjapense ! I’m so sorry for the wait.

Blackness. It is all you can see. 

Though the cool dampness of the hard dirt floor didn’t feel as uncomfortable as it once did. Maybe that was a good thing, a blessing in disguise. You had no idea how long you had been lying here, cold, stiff, and hungry. The only noise in this prison was the sound of water dripping. From the cavern's ceiling and down into the puddle below to join the rest. 

Drip. Drip drip. Drip. One-two-one, or maybe three. 

It was like the little droplets played in a marching band that never ended. 

You were not alone, what you could now tell as a man with a rotted face sat with you sharpening a knife and every once and a while he would mumble, “I told you not to follow me.” The sound grated on your ears.

In this place the mind talked, and it spoke loudly. After all, what else is there for it to do? Trapped in its cage made of flesh and stone, chained. It spoke of revenge, of hunger, of pain, of fear, and of anger—hurt. It ate itself up and left nothing. Leaving you to contemplate your betrayal and your inevitable demise.

Bugs and other things you couldn’t name, crawled, itched and tickled the bare skin of your arms. A thousand things with a thousand names moved across you. Like they and the dirt owned you. It was easy to imagine that this is what it was like to be buried. In tombs and in coffins with maggots eating at your flesh. Yes, you thought, this is what it is like to be buried alive.  

The story of how you found yourself in this predicament is a rather long one, but you felt that while you were here, you might as well recall the tale.

Everything is always innocent in the beginning. 

You remembered the days when you did not understand phrases like ‘orc-play’ or ‘orc-work.’ The sun was out on a nice summer’s evening, a warm breeze rattled the leaves and there was not a cloud in sight. Tilting your nose to the sky you breathed it all in. You and your friends Walter, his brother William, Rosetta, Terry, and Evelyn were all headed into town for a nice day out in the market. In the coming weeks the town was going to hold a celebration in honor of Mr. and Mrs. Stubble’s newest addition to their family and everyone was quite excited. 

To get into town from your house you had to walk past the cherry trees owned by Mr. Fiddle, the town's physician. Up past the apple trees of farmer Robert. Past the wheat fields of the Lady Grey. By the fields that housed the cows and past the barns that held the goats and chickens. On this path you could find the stables and fencing where the horses roamed. And finally, the guard house of Sir Martin and into the front gates. 

But you had barely passed by the wheat fields with your friends pushing each other and laughing merrily when you saw an old man sitting on the roadside. When you got closer you could see the man was old and dirty, clothed in rags and a torn cloak drawn tightly over his shoulders, as if he was freezing under the hot sun. Your friends ignore him and trot right on by laughing and giggling like he wasn’t even there. 

You stopped and considered him, knowing you’d never forgive yourself if you'd left him there. If you’d walked past him and left him ignored. You knew that pain all too well. Instead, you crouched down in front of him and asked if you could take him to your home to help him and he agreed. 

A way down the path your friends notice your absence and they look behind them and scuff. Watching you help the man to his feet. “Leave him be Y/n!” They called. 

“What business could you have with a man like him?” They laughed, Walter patting Terry on the back as he smiled. You ignored them at first but said, “My friends! I see your hearts are empty this evening. I will meet you tomorrow for lunch at the Inn.” You left your friends unsatisfied and grumbling as you led the man to your home. Though they did agree to meet you for lunch. 

Upon arrival you prepared a nice warm bath for him and helped the man into it. Scrubbing his back and washing his dark gray hair and pouring a cup of water over his head. It looked overgrown and his bushy beard was long. You asked if he’d like it trimmed but the old man did not reply. In fact, he did not say much during his time with you. He only kept his head low and bowed to his chest. 

You thought it’d be a nice thing to do. A decent thing. So, once you’d scrubbed him clean of dirt and grime you pulled him to his feet, toweled him down, gave him a nice robe and sat him in one of your kitchen chairs. You took a comb and a pair of scissors to untangle his glossy locks and cut him a new look.  

You combed and snipped and brushed and clipped again and again until you could see some resemblance of his face. He was handsome for his age, and you thought that he must have been breathtaking in his youth. Surely, he’d been a heart breaker in his day. When you’d shaped his beard to his face you grabbed some soap and applied it to his neck. Taking your only razor you shaved his neck clean and when you finally finished, you brushed his freshly cut bangs to the side, and you smiled at the sight of brown eyes. 

Deciding that the man needed some food to fill his belly and medicine for the night, you got up and went to the kitchen, working to prepare a hot home cooked meal for him. “Who are you?” You asked. No reply came, only the sound of his strained breathing answered you. 

You felt frustrated at first. After everything you’ve done for him, he would not give you his name? Quickly, you chastised yourself. This stranger was exhausted, sick and hungry. You knew you would be if you were in his place. After all, you did find him on the roadside. Give him time, you thought, he’ll come around. 

You didn’t have much in your pantry, but you cooked him mashed potatoes, some leftover meat, a bread roll and what fresh vegetables you had. While you were cooking you opened your cupboard and stared up at the only medicine you had. Medicine in this part of the land was hard to come by and very expensive. 

Most people couldn’t afford good quality medicine, nor did they have the skills to know what herbs helped and what didn’t. You were no exception. What herbs you grew were for cooking and tea. So, when a merchant came into town hungry and recently robbed of his belongings by bandits and thieves. You got him to trade you for the sole surviving item—elvish medicine. 

To even fulfill a mere fraction of the price you had to house him for a two week stay in your home, three hot meals a day, fresh clothes for each day, six of your best hens and a rooster, supplies for the road, your donkey, and what coin you could spare him. The whole thing nearly bled you dry.

Typically, only rich nobles could afford it. But when you confronted the man, he said he was going to trade it in exchange for gold so he could buy what he needed. Not only for what he needed during his stay in town but also his supplies for his trip. In the end the man had pity on you and accepted what you were willing to give him once you shared about your father…

You looked behind you at your guest. His head was bowed, hair dangling in his face, the robe pulled tight around his shoulders, and was shaking with fever. You looked back to the medicine and felt a shadow pass over you. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around the tonic and placed it beside his plate. 

When the food was finished you quietly placed the steaming plate in front of him with butter and jam for his bread and a warm cup of tea. “Eat up.” You say. “Once you’ve eaten, I’ll give you some medicine and then you can rest.” 

The man didn’t seem to notice at first, but after a moment, he picked up the fork and knife and began to eat. You sat at the table beside him thumbing the elven medicine. To pass the time you told him about your day and the upcoming events for the town hoping that he’d find it within himself to speak. 

Once he had finished and downed the medicine you supplied him, you helped him up your stairs and placed him in your bed to sleep. You went to leave, intending on talking to the seamstress about fresh clothes for him. It’d be expensive and there was a possibility you could not afford it, but you hoped the investment would be worth it. However, the man stopped you with a gentle grasp on your hand. 

“Thank you.” He said. You smiled, shocked and surprised to hear him speak, but pleased to hear it. “I was happy too.” You say. 

The old man looked at you, scrutinizing your face before nodding to himself, having decided something. “Listen stranger, I will not last till morning, this I feel deep within my bones. For your kindness and generosity, I will give you my land, my house, my animals, my fields, and I will order my servants to serve you as they served me. They will tend to you loyally, as if you were my blood. I will claim you as my heir and everything I have will be yours.” He coughed, lurching up from the bed in a fit. You were speechless, but quickly reached out to steady him, soothing him with sweet words as you did. You couldn’t believe what the man had said. What could this man possibly offer you? Was he not homeless? Without belongings? How could he claim to give you such grand things? You thought for sure he had lost his mind to old age. 

When his coughing had ceased, he gripped your shoulder and said, “Fetch me a paper and quill, and bring me Sir Thomas, my counselor, as witness. The man tends to set up his work at the law house. Tell him that Lord Arthur calls for him, and that it is urgent. Do this, and I’ll fulfill my promise.” 

Flabbergasted, your jaw fell to the floor. You didn’t know what to do, what to think! But your body moved on its own accord, and you rushed off to fetch Arthur what he asked for. 

You sprinted down your stairs throwing open the door to what used to be your father’s study. Running to the desk you grabbed a fist full of the cleanest papers you could find, and swiped the quill and ink, stumbling over your father’s chair in your haste. Quickly, you delivered what you had to your room, placing them on the bedside table. Before you turned, practically throwing yourself down the stairs with the unusual haste that consumed your being. You did this despite your misgivings and beliefs about the man’s sanity. Still, something in you told you to hurry, so you slung your warmest coat over your shoulders and grabbed your hat, clumsily falling out your front door. 

You raced to town as fast as your legs could carry you and ran past the front gates. 

“Excuse me! Coming through!” You shouted. Darting between men and women, evading rolling carts, ducking beneath overhanging signs, clipping shoulders and occasionally slamming into someone’s side. The people shouted at you, shaking their fists in the air and scolding you harshly as you ran through town. But you ignore them, dashing up the steps of the Law House and slamming open the door. “Excuse me!” You cried. A man startled up from his desk with a shout saying, “What? What is it?!” 

The man was tall and dressed in ivory robes. He had long strands of waved hair like gold, a trimmed beard around his face and his eyes were a sharp green. 

“I’m looking for Sir Thomas, a man that knows the law and counsels’ others, are you him?” 

“I am.”

“Then come quick!” You cried. “Lord Arthur calls you to my house and claims that he won’t survive the night.” 

The man moved at once, shoving all necessary papers and documentation into a brown bag and dashed for the entrance. Seeing him move, you turned on your heel and ran back to your house with shaky legs and empty lungs. Thomas followed you, overtaking your steps when he saw your house. “Where is he?” He asked.

“Up the stairs and in my bedroom!” 

Thomas flew past you; up the dirt path of your home and you watched him fling open your door and charge in. You tried to keep up, but your body was tired, and you slowed your pace to a walk, gasping for breath. When you made it to your door you leaned against the frame sweating and holding a hand to your chest as you wheezed. Goodness, I need to run more. 

Once you were sure your heart would not burst, you shut the door behind you and climbed up your stairs, following the soft voices that drifted down from your room. 

You couldn’t believe what was happening. Your day seemed so normal and sunny; how could it have turned so quickly? Though, you supposed it was for the best, whether the man could fulfill his claims or not the thought of him dead on the side of the road filled you with great sadness. You couldn't imagine what it’d be like to be sick and hungry, dying while uncaring people walked past you. Alone. Too tired to even ask for help. You shuttered and hugged yourself at the thought. You look into your room, but stay back in the hall for privacy's sake, your door open. Dying alone had to be the worst fate you could think of. 

It was well after dark when Thomas bowed his head, grabbing the sheets and slowly dragging them up over Arthur. Your heart sank, such a shame, you thought. It appeared that Arthur's assumption had been correct; he did not make it through the night. 

Thomas stood there a moment holding the bag close to his chest with his hand over the deceased. You wondered briefly if Thomas knew the dead well. He seemed so struck over Arthur’s passing and you didn’t know what to do. You stood there in an empty hall, watching as a man grieved instead of offering your condolences. At the very least, you could offer him tea. With that in mind, you quietly left making your way back down to the kitchen and putting some water over the fire to boil. 

Everything had happened so fast, and it left you confused and tired. Your mind felt as numb as your legs. You took a seat at the table listening to the fire crackle and pop and the cricket’s chirp. You rested your head in your hands unsure of what to do. The man, who you knew now as Arthur, was dead. Most importantly he lay dead upstairs. 

There was a dead man lying in your bed. 

You dragged your eyes around the dark room and furnishings. Did a person burn their bed and bedding when someone died? Certainly, they didn’t just wash and keep it for use. You scrunched up your nose at the thought, something in you churning at the idea of keeping the items in your house let alone putting them to use again. I wonder if I should ask the Lady Grey, you thought, her son is well versed in death. Afterall, he helps bury the coffins he creates. Maybe he’ll know how to dispose of unsavory items. 

And what about all those claims Arthur made? Should I ask Thomas about it? You yawned. Leaning back and listening to the wooden chair creak as you rubbed your eyes, exhausted. Would it even be right to accept those things if they were true? Did he not have any close relatives to take his land? And if he did have such grand things why then, did I find him on the roadside in rags? 

All this you pondered, your mind ran through and questioned every detail you could remember but you could not come up with a suitable answer or theory to solve the mystery of how this problem, and Arthur, had come to you. After a while you settled for hoping that Thomas could provide you with all the answers you wanted but you doubted it. 

The sound of water sizzling against coals caught your attention and you leapt up, quickly pulling the pot away from the flames and laying it to cool on the counter, leaving the tea too steep. You turned your attention back to your table where you still had messy dishes from when Arthur ate his last meal and you felt sorrow creep into your bones. You wish you had given him better food for a last supper. Alas, what was done was done. 

Sighing, you gathered up the dirty dishes and brought them to your sink to clean and swept up the hair off your floor. After all, it’d keep you busy while you waited, and it needed to be done anyway. You scraped whatever food remained off the plate and rinsed out the cup. The sound of running water worked to keep the silence at bay. Till you heard your stairs groan and your heart jumped into your throat with nerves, abruptly, you dropped the dishes to soak, shutting off the water. You barely got your hands dry before Thomas trudged in looking as exhausted as you felt. His eyes were rimmed red, his lips pinched, and he clutched his bag close to his chest with white fingers. 

All was still as you looked at each other, both of you at a loss for what to do next and the silence grew thick. 

“I—my apologies,” he cleared his throat and bowed his head low to his chest. “I did not mean to interrupt.” 

You smiled, his voice was deep and charming, effortlessly adding to the choir of crickets outside. 

“It is alright, I have just finished.” You gestured to your now clean table, “Please sit. I’ll get us some tea.” He nodded grateful for the distraction and sat heavily in his chair. 

From your cupboards you grabbed the best mugs you had and poured the drinks. Carefully you set the steaming beverage in front of him trying not to splash any out the sides. 

“Here, it is still hot so be careful.” 

“Thank you.” 

You gingerly took the seat closest to him as he had chosen to sit at the head of the table. And you didn’t want to risk offending him by moving too far away. Out of nervousness you licked your lips and skipped your eyes from him, “Well, Sir, I do not have much experience with matters such as this, so I’ll let you lead, when ready, of course. But know I have many questions for you.” 

Thomas sighed, dropping his bag to the floor and leaning back replacing the hold he had on his bag with the mug. “Yes, I know you do.” 

He stared into his drink for a time turning things over in his head and you let him do so in silence. Confident that once he had thought things over, he would have a quick and concise explanation. Though it seems you were out of luck. 

He took a sip from his drink and locked his gaze on you, but you squirm underneath his eye and could not meet his gaze instead you watched the fire lick the brick walls of its home. “I have decided that I will explain what I can in the morning but for now I insist that you come with me to town.” 

“What?!” 

Your head snapped around and you felt your neck pop, but Thomas looked resigned. “Yes, I believe that with all that has happened today it would be better if we continued in the morning.” 

“But-but I.” All you could do was stare dumbfounded. “I have so many questions!” You shove yourself to your feet, “And I cannot leave for town at this hour! I will stay on the couch tonight, if need be, but I will not go into town! Not at this hour.” 

You glared at your guest, unable to believe the absurdity of the situation. Awake all night with a dead man lying in your bed and he wouldn’t even answer you! He wouldn’t even consider sharing some of what he knows?! This was outrageous! Absurd!  

Thomas leaned into the table with passion in his eyes and desperation dripping from his lips. “My friend!” He exclaimed. “I do not ever plan on withholding information from you! Nor do I intend to. But I, well—” he gestured towards himself with a wave of his hand— “I cannot, do not, have it in me to continue with this tonight.” 

You paused your anger dwindling as you observed the man at your table. Indeed, he did look wary, and his shoulders slouched like he carried a great burden on his back and all at once you remembered this man mourning at Arthur’s bedside and shame flooded your heart. Here you were berating a grieving heart that could go no further than it had. Your mother would have skinned your hide. 

“My apologies, friend.” You placed a firm hand on his shoulder in comfort, “I forgot myself.”  

The corner of his mouth quirked, “No, I’m afraid you hadn't. I too would demand an explanation as to why I had a dead man in my house. In fact, you have been quite hospitable to me. The only thing you have forgotten to give me is your name.” 

You flushed red, “Ah, sorry, I am called Y/n.” 

At that Thomas grinned and raised his mug to you. “It is a pleasure Y/n.” 

“Yes, indeed it has been for you as well.” 

He ran a hand through his locks of gold and sighed, “And if it helps to convince you to come into town with me. I’ll tell you everything first thing in the morning and whether you like what I have to say or not I’ll buy new furniture and bedding for your room.”

Drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, you felt your reluctance break away. You could not afford to buy a new set of furnishing, nor could you imagine laying in that bed knowing that the dead had slept there also. But you couldn’t really afford a night at the Inn either… 

You shook your head, “I would agree to this, but I cannot pay for a night at the Inn anymore, the master there has raised the price too high.” 

Thomas shook his head and waved your words aside, “Nonsense! If that's what's stopping you, then I will pay for your room tonight.” 

“Oh, but I could not ask-” 

“But you aren’t! I am offering you my favor, after all, you are the one who has done so much already! Saving a man, you did not know from dying on the side of a dirt road? That is a good deed to be repaid.” 

Still, you hesitated, “Are you sure? I do not want to intrude.” 

Thomas grasped your hand with an endearing look in his eyes, “My dear, if it was such a trouble for me, I would not have offered.” 

“Well.” A small smile graced your lips, and you raised your free hand in defeat, “Alright, consider me convinced! I will go with you.” 

He clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He pulled himself to his feet and motioned towards the door with a bow, hair falling from his shoulders. “After you.” Startled from his fine gesture and a little numb in the mind. You took one last look at your table, staring at the mugs still full of tea. I’ll clean those when I come back in the morning. Quickly you stamped out the fire and then without any further delay, you headed towards town with Thomas as your escort.

Part 2

Masterlist

[seriously-nobody]

Love's Dark Afflictions

Chapter 13

Warnings: Major Character Death, romance, murder, blood, gore, insanity?, mental instability, mention of grief

Preface: WELP this is gonna be a real one y'all. I had too much fun fucking around with this one, as you can probably tell. Please read the warnings, this one's a doozy.

By the time you enter the courtyard, the wind whips through the weeping willows, making their branches and the spanish moss sway eerily. You dismount, handing your horse over to the stable boy as rain drops spot the ground. You rush up the steps to take cover from the oncoming storm, entering through the double doors. “Y/n?” William steps out of the living room in search of you. “Hello William.” You give him a tired but warm smile. “What happened? Where did you go?” He gives you a worried look. “I'd rather not say.” You look down, remembering how you left this morning. He sighs, walking up, and embracing you. His kindness and warmth are a pleasant contrast to your lover. “Well, I'm glad you're here safe and sound.” He says. You melt into his embrace, trying to ignore the feeling of Alistair staring invisible daggers at you. “Sounds of body, maybe, but not of mind.” Alistair retorts. The clock chimes, signaling you to meet Madame Leota in the seance room. “It seems my time's up.” You sigh, parting from William. “So it seems. Best not to keep her waiting.” William frowns, his hand lingering on your arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You nod and walk down the hallway to the painting door. “I want you to be as silent as the grave, Alistair. Is that understood?” You say under your breath. “Whatever.” He huffs. “This whole cleansing thing should be a bore anyway.” He scoffs.

You open it to find Madame Leota meditating in her usual chair at the table. “Madame Leota?” You call her quietly. “Come in.” She beacons. You walk in, closing the door behind you. You sit where you used to and wait for her to slowly open her eyes. “Hello, dear.” She says softly. “Hello… how exactly does this cleansing work?” You fidget a little. “Just relax, close your eyes, and I'm going to ask you a few questions, alright?” She says. You give her a confused look. “Trust me.” She reassures. You close your eyes hesitantly and focus on your breathing. “How did you feel when you first arrived at the mansion? Back before the ghosts were here.” She asks. “I felt sad for William. That’s why I came here after all. To take care of him when no one else would.” You say, keeping your eyes closed. Madame Leota hums, thinking. “Alright, how did you feel after the seance with that hatbox ghost?” she asks. Your heart skips a beat but no one could tell, except for Alistair. “I felt exhausted. The whole encounter was very draining.” You say. You can almost feel Alistair rolling his eyes at you. “It was quite overwhelming wasn't it.” She says, agreeing with you. “Now how did you feel after your run in with the highwaymen?” She asks you. You pause and let your lip quiver for dramatic effect. “I felt grief for Florence’s death and regret for not saving her.” You choke. “Good, now, feel your grief.” She says in concentration. You make a few tears roll down your cheeks to make it seem like you're thinking of Florence’s death, even though you aren't.

Madame Leota hums again in thought. “Strange… I can’t sense it.” She says softly and purses her lips. “Sense what?” You open your eyes to gauge her expression. “Your grief, I can't seem to feel it when you're around. Nor can I understand your aura. It's like something or someone is interfering with my abilities.” She says. “What's wrong with my aura?” You ask, curiosity taking you. “It doesn't look as it used to. It feels different now, somehow… It seemed to change after the night we encountered the hatbox ghost…” She says, trying to connect the dots. “What changed in you?” She asks, looking back up at you. You can tell Alistair has that smug look on his face, knowing the truth. “I've been on edge ever since then. It's like the ghost is following me everywhere I go, but I don’t know why. Like it's haunting me for some reason.” You say, almost truthfully. “Oh dear.” She coos. “So that's the reason I've been sensing madness on you since then. That must be it. Why didn’t you tell me this before?” She asks, silently opening her book. “You already had enough to focus on, I didn't want to add anything more.” You say. “Here,” She flips to a page. “I can perform this banishment spell, but I need a possession of the ghost’s.” She says. Your blood runs cold as realization sets in. You remember what you have on your middle finger. His ring suddenly feels very heavy on your hand. Your face goes pale as a sheet. “Is everything alright, dear?” Madame Leota says. Your hands clench into fists on top of the table. Drawing attention to your hands Madame Leota notices his ring. “When did you get that ring?” She asks. The weight of what you have to do next hits you harder than an oncoming carriage. “No… I-I can't…” You say. You're not sure who to, maybe to her, to Alistair, or maybe even yourself. “What do you mean you can't?!” Alistair's voice booms in your skull. You screw your eyes shut and turn your head away. “What is it, y/n? You can tell me.” She says, directing her full attention to you. “You've given yourself away! You know what you have to do!” Alistair barks. “N-no this isn't- This can't be it.” You say in disbelief. You hadn't thought it would come to such a swift end. You thought you had more time. “Is the ghost speaking to you? What are they saying?” Madame Leota says mentally connecting the dots. You begin to laugh to yourself, tears falling freely from your eyes. “Why did it have to come to this? Why now?” You laugh and sniffle. “Y/n, please, I can help. Just let me in.” She says.

“Ugh, and you,” You giggle. “/you,/” You growl darkly. “you just had to try to help, didn’t you?” You say angrily. “You just had to go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!” You stand abruptly. Madame Leota’s eyes widen in shock at your outburst. And finally, finally, she realizes. “No, you couldn’t have…” She trails off, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh yes I could. And you know what?! I did!” You shout in maniacal glee. “You killed Florence and Jules?” She says in disbelief. “Them, and that idiot servant, I never learned the name of, that patched up my leg.” You gesture to the healing wound on your thigh. “His body is currently dangling at the end of a rope in the rafters over the living room. Really I thought you, or anyone for that matter, would’ve noticed by now that a ceiling appeared one night, but I suppose no one really looks up there. Anyway, continue.” You lean over the table, resting your palms on the surface. “I never felt your grief because you killed all of them?” She says. “Exactly!” You grin pointing at her. “And your aura, I sensed madness in you.” She says. “Right again! I am quite-” You roll your eyes and point at your head, making a circle with your extended index finger, gesturing you’ve got a screw loose in your head. “You killed them? How?” She asks. “You’re prolonging the inevitable.” Alistair says sternly. “Oh but it’s good fun isn’t it? Finally getting to talk about all of it?” You say into the air. “Who said that?” Madame Leota says, looking around. “Oh that’s just the voice in my head.” You laugh at your own joke. “He’s that hatbox ghoOost.” You wiggle your fingers at her, giggling. “Materialize, I demand to see the face of the soul that ruined my friend’s mind.” Madame Leota demands. “Go ahead Ali, you can show yourself. There’s no turning back now.” You sigh. “Don’t call me that.” He materializes beside you with his arms folded over his chest. “Aww poor baby.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “So you’re the one that’s poisoned their mind with your horrid soul.” She sneers at Alistair. “Poisoned my mind? Please,” You snake your arms around Alistair, keeping your eyes trained on hers, “I was one inconvenience away from turning to murder. He was just the spark to my gunpowder.” You rest your head on his shoulder, as you gaze at her. “What have you done to them, you fiend?” She hisses at Alistair. Lightning flashes outside, illuminating the room from the glass ceiling above. Alistair’s face contorts into one of pure seething rage. “Now you’ve done it.” You say. “I AM NOT A FIEND!” He shouts, his voice reverberating off the walls of the small chamber. Thunder cracks and rumbles almost punctuating him.

“Enough of this. Your games may be fun, but I grow impatient. I want blood.” Alistair growls. “I suppose, if we must.” You sigh wistfully. Your eyebrows knit together with a thought. “What if you possessed me? We could take turns controlling my body.” You look at him. You feel him shiver against you at the thought of being able to physically spill blood again. “That would be /lovely/ darling.” He looks down at you, his pupils blown out. You nod, closing your eyes and taking a slow deep breath in, letting his soul into your body. You open your eyes and look down at Madame Leota. “Please, you don’t have to do this. We can figure this out together. We can get you help.” She pleads. You kick the nearest chair to you across the room in rage. “NO ONE CAN HELP ME!” Your voice, deep and booming, mingling together with Alistair’s. You feel Alistair take the lead, grabbing her crystal ball from its stand. He brings it down over head, hard and swift, again and again. Blood splattering everywhere. He only stops when he’s sure she’s gone. Suddenly your eyes adjust and everything in the room is a dark purple hue. Then you spot her. Her soul just leaving her body. Alistair holds the bloody crystal ball out in front of your body. His clawed hand shoots out of it, pulling her soul into the crystal ball, trapping her in it. Your vision goes back to normal and you both pant, catching your breath. Alistair slides your palm over the crystal ball to smear away the blood to peer into it. Something in the mist moves and then you see her, she opens her eyes. “How dare you! You rotten corpse! Your appearance is just as ugly as your soul!” She shouts. “Well, I’ve had quite enough of that.” Alistair says, grabbing her cloth bag from under the table and shoving the crystal ball into it. Her shouts, muffled and distant. “I’m sure everyone heard everything that just happened.” You frown at the thought of so many loose ends. “I have the property locked down so they shouldn't have gotten far.” Alistair says. “Perfect. No one is leaving this mansion alive tonight.” You say darkly, walking up the steps. You open the door to an eerily silent mansion, the only noise you hear is rolling thunder and rain outside. “I suppose they won’t be making this easy for us.” Alistair huffs. “Oh well.” You crack your neck and roll your shoulders. “Time to go hunting for servants.” You hiss and prowl down the hall, beginning your hunt.

Chapter 15

[cobraonthecob]

F1 2024 Predictions!

Red Bull: Obviously they’re going to continue to dominate. They have to get in their domination years before the 2026 regulations come by, so as far as 2024 and 2025 are concerned for me, Red Bull is going to aim to dominate and they will. The only thing I’d be interested in Red Bull in is whether or not Checo will have stable mental health to hold a smaller gap in points between him and Max, because what the hell happened after Monaco alsdkjfaklsdfj.

Ferrari: I am not a superstitious person usually, but if you have Scuderia in your name, your strategists are shit. AlphaTauri has this problem, and Ferrari is the same. At least Ferrari has a car that can get points (not great ones, but still points) whereas AT will be far away from the points. So hopefully 2024, the strategists gain more brain cells, otherwise, it’s just going to be a repeat of 2023.

Mercedes: The strategy is questionable at times, but what really needs to improve is the pit stop times. They’re doing better, but they NEED to get their heads out of their asses for that because that’s the real killer in my opinion. 

Mclaren: My surprise prediction of 2024, is that Mclaren is going to be the team that will come close to lighting a fire under Red Bull. Or rather; Oscar, Lando, and Checo are going to be fighting for podium spots after Max fucks off ten seconds ahead of them (a gracious guess, it would’ve been 20 seconds but I decided to be nice). We all saw Mclaren’s miraculous technological growth this year, so assuming Mclaren doesn’t bring a tractor at the start of the season, I can very much see a Red Bull vs Mclaren fight.

Also we need a lando win. Please, he’s been suffering for too long

Aston Martin: I don’t follow AM, so if anyone wants to bring additional info, I’ll be grateful, but I feel like they’ll bring the fight to P3 in the constructor’s championship against Ferrari and Mercedes. They seem to have decent strategy and pit stops, it’s just that the car is average with two good drivers. Maybe they should hope for more rainy races and Lance works his driving-in-the-rain magic.

THE MIDFIELD:

I predict that it’s going to be an Alpine-Williams-AlphaTauri/Racing Balls fight.

Alpine: if the Frenchpine civil war doesn’t fuck them up more, because Pierre really showed what he was made of. I can’t really estimate how good they are against each other because Esteban has had 6 DNFs total, 4 being mechanical failures, 2 retirements because of collision from other people running into him, and I’m not counting all the times Esteban has run into other people but no DNF because I’m not combing through every race lol. I think they’re equal, it’s just that Esteban’s car was plagued with mechanical problems and Esteban regularly finds himself in weird situations where he’s getting bonked into or he’s bonking into someone else. Alpine is going to be fighting themselves and the rest of the midfield lol.

Williams: Alex is definitely going to head that king of the midfield fight for Williams while Logan will quietly improve and hopefully get points. 

AlphaTauri: Daniel and Yūki are probably the best driver pairing AlphaTauri could ask for. Daniel’s experience and Yūki approaching his fourth year on the team means they have to be fighting for consistent points now from both of them, and that’s only if AT doesn’t give them a tractor to drive. Also, before anyone who didn’t pay attention to Yūki’s growth this year, you missed out. The two major times I can say that Yūki costed himself points was Singapore - I definitely think he turned too early in that first lap and doing it next to Checo of all drivers - and Mexico, where he turned on the outside and bumped into Oscar and spinning himself off the track. But most importantly, even though Yūki couldn’t crawl back into the points in time, he LEARNED, and in Brazil, he applied that when he didn’t do the same error when he and Lewis were fighting. 

Sauber: Hopefully with the shedding of AlfaRomeo, they’ll bounce back. But they’re my flop prediction.

Haas: This team flopping is a given. I will be pleasantly surprised if they pull a Mclaren and miraculously be consistently pulling themselves into P9/P10 every race.

[thebogmonster]

ellie williams psych analysis part I: early childhood experiences & issues with attachment

i made a short post about how i view joel's mental health and psychology and some people seemed to enjoy my thoughts, so i am going to do a multi-part analysis of joel and ellie. i want to start with ellie because we know the most about her childhood (ofc)

The presentation that we see of Ellie in the HBO show is a very bright young girl who has been constantly thrown into incredibly disturbing circumstances since her literal birth. She is impulsive, resourceful, and fiercely independent despite having a deep need for connection. She is often violent and appears to hold a considerable amount of rage. We know she has experienced multiple traumatic events and due to the nature of her upbringing in FEDRA, and in the apocalypse in general, she carries an underlying current of tension.

Additionally, we know that Ellie's mother was under a significant amount of stress not only throughout her pregnancy, but immediately before, during, and after birth (the prenatal and perinatal environments). Thus, cortisol and other stress hormones were predominant in her body and nervous system. This imbalance of hormones and neurotransmitters will have effected Ellie.

There are a variety of implications that we can draw from this information about Ellie's perinatal environment. Ellie is likely going to have a slightly different brain structure and different hormonal and neurotransmitter levels than a normal infant. Of course, we can assume that for most babies born into the apocalypse. They are likely going to have issues regulating their emotions, and they'll be at risk for depression, anxiety, psychosis, aggressive behavior, and a general level of hypersensitivity. We can see where some of that applies to Ellie - she's been shown to have aggressive, anxious, and depressed sides.

Another important factor is the death of Ellie's mother. We know that that Ellie never had a stable adult in her life - she never formed a secure attachment with a caregiver. This is a form of socio-emotional neglect. The first selective attachment should form in early infancy, around 2-4 months. At this time, Ellie may have been in Marlene's care, although we know that Ellie is not aware of meeting Marlene until she was 13 or 14. This means that she was placed in the FEDRA boarding school very young. As an orphan in a FEDRA boarding school, she likely rotated through caregivers and was unable to form selective attachments. We know that she entered the Boston Quarantine Zone at 13 (according to comics), and she is introduced at age 14 in the main storyline. Thus, we can assume any attachments formed between 4mo to 14yrs were unstable and those that formed were ultimately disrupted. This suggests that Joel was her first long-term caregiver.

The best evidence we have of Ellie's lack of secure attachments is her own statement: "“Everyone I have cared for has either died or left me. Everyone - fucking except for you!” Joel is Ellie's first secure attachment to a caregiver, but also to anyone.

Two patterns may arise from those early childhood experiences of socio-emotional neglect and an inability to form secure caregiver attachments. The child may be withdrawn, not seeking comfort or not responding to comfort, and struggle with emotional disturbances; or incredibly outgoing and overly familiar with strange adults. Ellie likely falls into the first category. If we are taking a pathology-based approach, where we consider her response a traumatic disorder, we could say Ellie has Reactive Attachment Disorder (RAD). We can also see this as Ellie’s overarching trauma response.

Throughout the show, we see multiple examples of Ellie being emotionally withdrawn and not responding to comfort. In Episode 4, Joel attempts to provide comfort to Ellie after she shoots Bryan. Ellie does not engage with Joel's comfort, rather, what she responds to is being given a gun. We see that pattern again after she is traumatized by David.

The other part of this response to socio-emotional neglect and a lack of stable caregivers is emotional disturbances. For a diagnosis of RAD, at least two of the following is required: a lack of social and emotional responsiveness to others, limited experiences of positive emotion, and episodes of irritability/sadness/fear. Ellie does express social-emotional engagement with Riley and with Sam (and in adulthood, with Dina). Her pattern of social-emotional disengagement seems to be focused on caregivers or adults in general. However, Ellie does display some degree of limited positive affect - while she does express joy and humor, we also see that beneath that she carries a significant amount of fear, sadness, and survivor's guilt. Additionally, Ellie does display episodes of irritability in nonthreatening situations with adult caregivers. We have seen that she can be aggressive and easily angered. Additionally, she displays a preoccupation with violence (ie, her obsession with guns), she is argumentative, argumentative, distrustful, and seems to have some feelings of detachment or emptiness. Another interesting sign of this is a pattern of nonsense chit-chat and questioning of adults - something she does to Joel quite a bit.

Essentially, Ellie's early childhood experiences have set her up to struggle with attachments and relationships to others. It is might be hard for her to recognize and understand her emotions. She is going to be at risk for developing substance abuse issues or an eating disorder. Additionally, she is to really push for her independence at some point, which we see early int he second game.

I'm going to write a second part to this and focus on her response to acute trauma and her display of PTSD.

[blackstar1887]

Nurturing Unity and Well-being Over Discord: Lil Boosie’s Struggles Highlight the Importance of Healthy Co-Parenting

Welcome to Afrofusionist! Explore More on Our Home Page.

Introduction

Navigating the intricate terrain of relationships can often give rise to challenging separations, particularly when children become central. The recent spotlight on rapper Lil Boosie’s strained connection with his daughter and her mother brings into focus the intricacies of co-parenting. This article delves into this situation, examining the potential harms of exploiting the child support system and championing the cultivation of healthier co-parenting dynamics, all within the context of nurturing unity and well-being in the black community.

Boosie’s Issues with His Daughter and Her Mother

Last month, Lil Boosie found himself embroiled in a public feud with his daughter, Tori, as reported by XXL. Their conflict escalated when Boosie repossessed a Mercedes-Benz he had gifted her for her 16th birthday, following her decision to leave their shared residence in Atlanta to support her mother. The situation escalated online, with both parties airing their grievances for all to see.

Navigating Co-Parenting Challenges

Lil Boosie’s situation is a prime example of how co-parenting challenges can turn into public spectacles. It’s crucial to recognize that disagreements between parents should not be used as ammunition against one another, particularly within the child support system. Weaponizing child support can not only damage the child-parent relationship but can also perpetuate harmful stereotypes about the intentions of black women.

Avoiding Abandonment: Prioritizing the Well-being of Children

One of the most concerning elements of Lil Boosie’s statements is his threat to cut off his daughter from his life and will. While it’s not uncommon for disputes between parents to strain their relationships with their children, it’s essential to remember that a child’s well-being should always take precedence. Disowning a child due to differences with the other parent is unjust and can have long-lasting emotional consequences for the child involved.

The Impact on Black Men in America

Lil Boosie’s health scare and the parallel drawn to Dr. Dre’s similar experience during his divorce, as reported by Rolling Stone, underscore the challenges black men face in America. The legal and emotional battles these individuals go through can often have profound effects on their physical and mental well-being. Addressing these challenges requires open dialogues within the community about mental health, resilience, and healthy coping mechanisms.

Fostering Healthy Co-Parenting Dynamics

The need for healthier co-parenting dynamics is clear. Instead of leveraging the child support system as a tool of revenge or manipulation, parents should work together to provide a stable environment for their children. Clear communication, empathy, and compromise are crucial components of successful co-parenting. This not only benefits the children involved but also helps to break the cycle of animosity.

Final Thoughts

Lil Boosie’s recent conflicts with his daughter and her mother highlight the importance of maintaining positive co-parenting dynamics. As the black community continues to address societal challenges, nurturing healthy relationships between parents is paramount. Weaponizing the child support system only perpetuates division and hurt, rather than nurturing the emotional and psychological well-being of the children it should protect.

As we conclude this insightful journey, I urge you to persist in your pursuit of enlightenment and empowerment. For a deeper exploration of nurturing unity and well-being, watch our engaging YouTube video, Boosie’s Daughter Tori PRESSURES Him After Car Reversal! and it’s alignment with the concepts from Thomas J. Stanley and William D. Danko book, “The Millionaire Next Door Book.” Your perspective counts, as we together drive positive change.

Let’s strive for unity, understanding, and empathy in our co-parenting efforts. By prioritizing the children and focusing on their well-being, we can create a brighter future for them and pave the way for healthier relationships in the black community.

[cr-scribbles]

🧸KENNY CHARACTER ANALYSIS

Hello! It's me again! But this time, instead of a review, we're going to be going through a character analysis!

Before we start, however, please note that even if I am on the team, I am writing this with the view of a fan still. Nothing here should be pointed at and went "oh that must be canon!" because I don't know. I haven't asked Bon about it. These are just my theories!

AND! This will solely be focused on the comic itself instead of taking stuff from the games. I am too confused on the game's lore to really have a say on it with anything in this analysis. If there is some shit that is already answered in the lore, shush. I'm not focusing on that.

⚠ Also be warned that this does contain spoilers for the comic alongside discussion of death and other heavy topics.

If you want to read the comic for yourself and then come back to this, here is the link for it!

Enjoy!

Kenny is such an interesting character to me that I can't wait to see development for as the story continues.

He starts off as this emotionally broken kid who had WITNESSED A MURDER when he was a lot younger and can't tell anyone. That entire scene still makes me wonder why William left him in the first place. Did William know that Kenny would never actually tell anyone because he was too terrified? That would make sense, but at the same time, William is seen to be this murderer that kills when the time is right. Wouldn't that time be right? No one else was around and C&C had already been killed before he noticed another kid there. To me, there has to be more of a reason for why he even left Kenny alive. Then again, we can't push aside the other interpretation that this could just be a part of Kenny's nightmare. Dreams can create false memories and considering this is something that has stuck with Kenny from a young age, I wouldn't be surprised if he was never spotted, but his nightmares are possible outcomes if he was. Him seeing death firsthand and his brain going to what would happen if he was in their shoes.

Either way though, Kenny gets out of it badly traumatized after seeing an animatronic kill two people! Yet he can't tell anyone and has to go on, obviously still affected greatly by it which leads people to think he's just scared of the animatronics themselves for a reason he can't even give. In Chapter 7, the ghost rules are stated a bit more from C&C where they state that "we think those people [people who are "crazy" or not mentally stable] might be more disconnected with the living world, so they can kinda see into the "spirit world" or something." This shows that alongside the fact that he is already traumatized from the murder, he also has to see the haunting versions of the ones he possibly saw die. Does he realize that it's even them though or is he just scared of how they look? If the two stay around Fredbear's a lot, I wouldn't be surprised if Kenny pieced it together. Being as young as he is, I don't think he would brush it off as a hallucination either. He would think they're real and haunting him and he would be right with one of those! I'd imagine that alongside the fact that he can apparently see ghosts(?) or at least messed up versions of them messes him up really badly. Not only does he see the ones he saw get murdered, but he is also practically locked in a room with one of them (Michael). While it isn't entirely confirmed if he can even see Michael there, from the other scenes, I believe it's safe to guess that Kenny saw a distorted/messed up version of Michael appear in the room and sit next to him.

The scene between Kenny and Michael always stood out to me. They both are just two poor kids who have a lot going on in their lives/in their minds at the moment. I would say that while Michael went there to cry purposefully, he doesn't feel as trapped, but I also believe that's far from the truth. Similar to Kenny, Michael wouldn't be there if he didn't have to be. Both could be enjoying life as any other kid, but they are both trapped. In different contexts, but they have that thing in common here. Kenny must feel so helpless and scared during this time too because unlike the time with C&C, he can't run even if he wanted to. All he can do is tremble on the ground and cry while a ghost sits down next to him. This interaction also makes me wonder whether or not Kenny is able to hear the ghosts as well during this time. How far do the ghost rules work in regards to being mentally unstable and seeing them? Does it just stop at the visual aspect or could they even interact with them if they tried to? I doubt C&C would have tried at any point and Sammy's situation with the plush is something for a whole other analysis cause that also leads a lot more questions. But Michael actually sits there and talks. Tells him that he won't hurt him. When reading this, I just hoped that Kenny could hear Michael because him attempting reassuring Kenny is so sweet, yet so sad to me. It obviously doesn't reassure Kenny enough to calm him down and the fact that he only whimpers and sobs in response really shows that he is terrified.

His "death" scene with Sammy is also something that really pulled at my heartstrings and still does now. Kenny expressing his exhaustion from trying to hold on for so long and Sammy wanting to find a solution for him to be at peace. In Chapter 4, Sammy states that the world is unfair! None of them deserved to be murdered, but it still happened. That line makes me wonder how many times that has been repeating in his head for so long. Especially considering the fact that he has been at this for 11 years! He definitely couldn't have started off with this murderous plan in mind, he must have been beaten down by the cruel world. Those thoughts must have festered so much in his brain. And it is no different here. In Chapter 6, he is very keen on going to help Kenny out after hearing what happened in the past regarding him and C&C. His main goal was to help him! Be the best friend Kenny has ever had! But he is yet again shown the fact that life is incredibly unfair. There could have been a light at the end of the tunnel if they made it through the bullying together, no matter how bad it was since Kenny still had his friend group! Even if his life was miserable with the bullying, hallucinations, and trauma, he still had his friends there for him and checking up on him. He had a glimmer of happiness and hope that both him and Sammy were holding onto. He could learn to grow and eventually reach out for help when he got older! But that never happened. Instead, life was unfair. The bite happened. That light was snuffed out on his own birthday.

Now, Kenny is just a kid! Older than Sammy, but mentally, not really. Sammy had experienced a lot more. Kenny's quick notion that it would be better to just give up instead of holding on is understandable for a child to take. Thought isn't being put into the consequences of letting go. It's not being put into what he could possibly miss out on in his future. If anything, he just wants to be at rest instead of being in pain. He just wants to sleep. Sammy knows that isn't possible, however. If he does let go, all he'll do is just join the group of ghosts waiting to be free from the cruel life. Yet, Sammy chooses to let Kenny let go. A topic of discussion that I believe should be thought of more is whether this was the right choice or not. I personally am conflicted about it, but I can see where Sammy stands. It's possible that Sammy does not believe in the improvement of the bullies even after what happened. Maybe he worries that if Kenny keeps holding on, that cruel life will just cause more pain to him in the end and it wouldn't have been worth it. Sammy has been beaten down over and over again with this life. Kenny never deserved this and he knows that! So the best thing he can do is offer to be by his side. Give out the offering that everything is going to be okay, Kenny just has to trust him. And Kenny does! They can move on together. But was it the right choice to make?

When Kenny died, he practically lost everything. He no longer can feel fear or sadness or any sort of emotion. This, of course, would have been no different if he chose to stay alive. An empty shell of what he once was, wandering. However, his character is still incredibly interesting to me. In Chapter 9, we see his first outburst when he sees Withered Foxy. Instead of an expression of fear towards the animatronic that his brother's mask was, he is filled with rage. These expressions of anger are some of the only moments we see him actually express any emotion. I'm pretty sure that is because he can't feel anything else, but why is it just anger? Is it because he is a vengeful spirit? That also brings the question of why he is still around. In Chapter 2, Sammy states how ghosts that are murdered will be stuck on Earth "until they find the one who murdered them." However, what if it was an accidental death? Brian didn't mean to harm Kenny and even the bite didn't entirely kill him either. He chose to let go on his own, yet he still remains as a ghost on Earth. So what is keeping him around? Definitely the rage, but towards what exactly? It could be towards his brother as stated with the first outburst, but what kind of resolution would he need to come to for that to be able to move on? Even if he didn't intent to do it, does the incident still make him the murderer in this situation that Kenny needs to go after? Or is it something bigger than just that? I personally am conflicted regarding this topic, but it is good to note that it could be the latter as well. In Chapter 10, another outburst happens, albeit it's more subtle than his yelling. He takes the grand reopening poster on the pole and tears it apart. From the other parts of the series so far, it doesn't look like he really interacts with his surrounding much, but this was one of the times where he did and it was out of anger. Maybe the deep seated anger is more towards the company in general rather than his own brother.

Regardless, with either one, what would Kenny need to do to be set free? How could someone who doesn't normally feel much aside from anger be at rest at last? I don't fucking know! I just can't wait to see his character explored more later on in the series. if anyone wants me to do this for another character, please let me know because this was so much fun to make LMAO.

[ofprincessesandqueens]

I'm a Gen Z and I like Kate a lot maybe because I can relate to her a lot. I'm a shy, reserved person and I have issues with public speaking due to my social anxiety.

I think the problem with Kate is that she's not relatable. She wasn't born rich but her parents took a risk, created their own business and managed to provide a great life for their children (which I respect a lot and it's crazy that the British press criticised them for years for not being aristocrats like being self-made is such a bad thing).

So, Kate pretty much lived a privileged life 90% of the time. She attended one of the most prestigious schools in the UK. Then, she went to university and had her degree. She never really had a stable career (which I can somewhat sympathize because paparazzis would apparently show up at her work and constantly take photos of her and she had to quit and go work for her parents).

Then her and William got married and she became sort of robotic, "cold" and never set a foot wrong. Again, not relatable because most people aren't perfect all the time but I can kind of understand. She was under such media scrutiny in her 20s and was constantly getting bad press that I think she feels like she has to be perfect to avoid media criticism.

Today, she's more of a rich stay-at-home mum who does some charity in her spare time and people my age can't relate to that. I just had my first child less than a year ago but most of my friends are not married and don't have kids and that's why most people my age are not really interested in her work in Early Childhood Education.

I found William a lot more interesting. You can see it when he's on solo engagements, he's a lot more funny, he's more relaxed, he connects better with the youth than Kate, he's a better public speaker than her, us Gen Z can relate more to his work with mental health, environmental issues and with committing homelessness and how he's been an LGBT ally for years (7 years ago, he became the first royal to be photographed for the cover of a gay magazine). I don’t get that same vibe with Kate.

Even some of my friends who are not monarchists at all are very interested in William's recent project in trying to reduce homelessness.

Thank you for your detailed POV. It seems like the first anon I got related to this conversation may have been right when she talked about Kate's communication skills and her lack or career before she got married. Both things you can understand from a personal POV but that causes an impact in the way she is perceived either way. I guess she is not seen as aspirational too.