#prince kit imagine

[arctickat2400]

Celebration ∞ Prince Kit

Prince Kit x Reader

A/N: This is my first Richard Madden fanfic/imagine. I thought of this the other day and I'm now just getting to writing it. I didn't have any notes like I usually have for my stories so I'm not really sure if it came out how I wanted it to or not. But either way, hope y'all enjoy it and please request more if you're into Richard and his characters, or you can request other people/characters as well.

* * * *

Being queen had its advantages - your closest friends were royalty from around the world and you could throw galas and balls whenever you want to, among other things. More specifically, being the wife of your husband Kit came with many advantages, too. For your birthday, Kit would throw a huge gala in your honor. He knew you weren’t big on parties and huge crowds, but how could he not throw such a party to celebrate the love of his life? This also allowed all your friends from all the kingdoms to come and celebrate with you. This allowed you to see the joy it caused all the people invited as they danced and talked to people they don’t get to see often because they have their own kingdoms to rule. And it made you so happy to see them all so happy, having a carefree night to enjoy themselves and have fun. You also got to dress up, which you loved, and seeing how everyone dressed up in their respective kingdoms piqued your interest. 

However, being queen and attending such events had their disadvantages. You were not big on parties, as was stated previously. Although you loved your friends and loved seeing everyone having a good time in your kingdom, crowds made you anxious, and being in the company of so many people for so long made you tired and drained. And no matter how much you loved your dress and loved dressing up, your mind seemed just a bit more hyperaware than usual of how tight your corset felt. 

After your dance with Kit to celebrate your birthday, you’d been chatting with some of your friends, talking about the things going on in your different kingdoms, laughing about random things. Every now and then, a king, queen, prince, or princess would come up to you and wish you a Happy Birthday, to which you would respond graciously with “thank you” or something alike. Another friend or two would join your previous conversation, but after a while, you started to feel lightheaded.

You excused yourself from your friends, telling them simply that you needed a break and for them to enjoy the night before you make your way up to the balcony to overlook the gala. On your way, you passed by Kit to see him conversing with some of his own friends, kings from neighboring kingdoms, and some princes who haven’t ranked up just yet. Kit let out a joyous laugh and it made you smile, the way his smile reached his sparkling eyes. It’s already been a year since you married Kit, and yet, you still couldn’t get enough of your husband. 

Balling up your dress in your fists to lift the hem of your dress, you ascended the stairs up to your balcony, sighing as you were finally able to sit down. The night was hardly over and you were already getting close to being done, you were so tired. Of course, no one would mind if you left early, but you wanted to be there for everyone, to relish in the festivities. Plus, Kit had done so well with the whole celebration and worked so hard to create a night in honor of you, you didn’t want to miss a thing.

As you people watched from your throne above the ballroom, you spotted Kit, speaking with a different group of people. He laughed once more. It seemed he was hardly without a smile on his face, which made you so much happier that you were married to him. Before him, you’d been in a rough place, but after him, everything seemed so much brighter. He made all the bad days good again. He could put a smile on your face with just a simple hug or kiss on your forehead. Everything was just so simple with Kit.

Just then, Kit’s eyes locked with yours, his ocean eyes swimming with such love and adoration, it was almost overwhelming. You offered him a sweet smile in return of his before the Grand Duke came up behind him and whispered something in his ear. Kit nodded and the Duke walked off. Kit met your eyes once again before turning back to his friends. Your eyes wandered off around the room, then.

“Is everything alright, my queen?” The Captain inquired beside you as you rubbed at your forehead, willing away the on-coming headache and lightheadedness. 

“Oh, yes, just feeling a little out of it is all,” You answered him, trying to give him a reassuring smile.

“Can I get you anything? Something to drink?” He insisted.

“No, thank you, Captain. I was thinking about going to get some fresh air here soon, actually. I’ll probably get something on the way out.” You responded, and he nodded, keeping guard next to you while looking out over the crowd. He knew you’d ask if you needed anything.

Just as you were about to stand to go outside, Kit made his way up the stairs and was by your side in what seemed like seconds. You offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes as your headache had gotten progressively worse and your corset seemed to have gotten tighter. 

“Hello, darling. Are you alright?” Kit asked as he knelt down in front of you, taking your hand in his. He hated standing over you, looking down at you, so if you were sitting, he would get down to your level, to be able to look you in the eye.

“Yes, I’m fine, my love. Just needed a break, is all. You know how I am,” You squeezed his hand reassuringly. Kit let out a slight chuckle. “How are you? Having a good time?” You requested.

“Of course. I just hope you are as well. I would hate for something to be wrong during your own celebration,” Kit acknowledged. You assured him that you were having a great time, steering away from the fact that you were not feeling quite yourself. You didn’t want him to worry, because you know he would.

“But, I was just about to head out for some air,” You mentioned. “I should be back shortly.” You added.

“Would you like some company, princess?” Before you were married, Kit had come up with many nicknames for you. Although you were now queen, he continues to call you princess sometimes. 

As much as you would love some alone time with Kit, maybe a nice walk through your garden on such a beautiful night with him, you declined. You needed some alone time, despite hating spending even a second away from him. You knew the longer you spent with him, the more he would notice something might be wrong. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Go entertain our guests. I shouldn’t be long,” You stated. Kit left it at that, not wanting to pressure you.

Instead, he stood up, leaning over to the Captain, asking him to keep an eye on you, although you could hardly hear over the music and voices. The moment Kit married you, he assigned the Captain as your personal guard. He didn’t trust anyone more than he trusted the Captain, so who better to look after his love than his right-hand man? Kit took both your hands in his to help you stand before you wrapped your arm around his. He began guiding you down the stairs to the main floor, the Captain following close behind. 

At the end of the stairs, Kit pulled you in close and placed a kiss on your forehead before he went back into the ballroom and you made your way outside. You walked down the path towards the garden. You wished you had taken Kit up on his offer to accompany you. Of course, you loved being alone, but you loved being alone with him even more. 

Suddenly, despite your still closeness to the palace, the sounds of the music started to fade away, and your vision began to blur, stars that were not from the night sky obstructing your sight. You stopped in your tracks as your head pounded and your stomach swirled with unease. 

You bent forward, your hands on your knees despite all the fabric of your dress, and the Captain was by your side instantly. 

“Are you okay, Your Majesty?” Captain exclaimed, one hand on your back, the other around your arm. You breathed heavily, you couldn’t see, your legs became weak, and you collapsed to the ground. The Captain knelt behind you and you leaned back against him, your eyes squeezed shut.

“We need to get you inside, my queen,” Captain insisted. You opened your eyes once more when you felt the Captain lift you into his arms, then everything went dark.

* * *

Kits POV

I should have gone with her. She didn’t seem like herself. But, I know she likes her alone time, so I granted her that. Shouldn’t she be back by now? As I spoke to a close friend of mine, I was about to go find Y/N but one of the guards came up to me before I could.

“My King, you need to come right away,” The guard insisted, and my mind thought of the worst.

“What’s happened?” I questioned, my brows furrowed as I turned to him and he began leading me out of the room. 

“It’s the queen, Your Majesty,” He didn’t have to finish his answer before I came to a run towards our bedroom. Once I was in sight, the guards stationed outside our room opened the doors and I rushed inside. My eyes immediately drifted to the bed to see my love, her eyes closed, her face pale. She was changed from her dress to more comfortable clothes, her hands placed on her stomach. I rush to her side, sitting close to her on the bed, taking one of her hands in mine. I caress her cheek, hoping to coax her eyes open, but they remain closed. I look up to see the Captain standing beside the bed and then to the doctor on the other side who had just finished looking over Y/N. 

“What happened? Is she alright?” I demanded, looking between the two men before landing on the Captain who answered first.

“She’s okay. She fainted while on her walk outside. But, she’s going to be just fine, Mr. Kit,” Ever since I first met Y/N, that was when I had the Captain start calling me Kit and he continues to do so to this day. Since my father, only two people call me by my first name - Y/N and the Captain. 

“Thank you, for staying with her. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if she’d been alone,” I worried as I looked back to Y/N, lifting her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles. 

“Sir, I believe I have some information that may be of importance to you,” The doctor’s voice brought my gaze to him, silently telling him to continue. “Her Majesty will need lots of care as she is with child,” My eyes grew wide. Oh, how I wish Y/N were awake so I could relish this magnificent moment with her. I guide my gaze back to my queen, a smile coming to my lips and a single tear sliding down my cheek. 

“We’ll leave you two alone,” I barely heard the Captain comment as he gestured for the doctor to follow him out of the room. My sole focus was on Y/N.

I leaned toward her, pressing my forehead to hers. “My baby girl,” I sighed as I brushed my thumb over her cheek. There were no words that could tell just how much I love this woman, no actions that could show just how amazing she is. From the moment I saw her, I knew she was the one. And now, she’s growing such a great gift. 

Y/N needed to rest, but there was no way I could leave her. I removed my jacket before moving to lay beside her, propping up against the headboard. Just then, she moved to lay her head on my chest, her hand against my stomach. “Hello, my precious girl,” I whispered to her. I let her get comfortable, my adoration for her becoming tenfold as she nuzzled her nose against my chest. I brushed the back of my hand against her cheek, soothing her. 

Slowly, Y/N’s eyes opened. She took a deep breath before guiding her head up to look at me, my never-ending love for her the only emotion she could find. 

“I’m guessing you know,” Y/N stuttered, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. I only hoped they were tears of joy and not sadness or fear. 

“I do, my sweet girl, and can I just tell you I am over the moon with delight, my love!” I marveled. She stared up at me, stunned. “You’re not mad?” A tear slipped from her eye.

“Of course not, darling. How could I possibly be mad about something as wonderful as having a child with the love of my life? This is absolutely amazing and I can’t tell you how much I love you, baby.” I finished, my eyes filling with their own tears. I shift down to lie beside Y/N as she positions herself on her back. I hold myself above her, looking deep into her beautiful blue eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She places her hand against my cheek, “I love you so much, my Kit,” She beams, and I can’t hold back a smile before I lean down and press my lips to hers. The kiss is passionate, every emotion I feel for her in a single kiss.

Shifting down, I cup her waist in my hands and press my lips to her belly. My whole face brightens at the sound of her laugh. Oh, what this woman does to me. Laying beside her, I hold Y/N in my arms, her head laying against my shoulder, my hand placed over her tummy, rubbing the smooth skin there. “I love you, my sweet girl,” She hums in response as I take pure delight in the feeling of my queen in my arms.

[spideyhexx]

oct. 22nd - royal reckoning

Prince!Billy Bonney x Village!FemaleReader

mdni!!! wc; 4.6k cw; virginity loss, p in v, angst

kinktober 2024 masterlist

a/n; this was a concept we talked about a little while back and it deserved to be explored in a longer fic so enjoy :) ALSO THE BOLDED ITALICS ARE FLASHBACKS SORTA

The grassy fields leading ahead to your cottage do nothing to soothe Billy’s hammering heart. His boots hit the ground with soft thuds, as though he is trying to be stealthy. There’s no need for quiet. The fields are completely empty save for the occasional wandering little animal. He spots a bunny and smiles to himself, his hand subconsciously gripping to the hilt of his dagger tucked into a leather sheath at his belt as he treks on. 

The sun is set, casting a dark glaze of moonlight over the land and although the expanse of the fields could prove daunting and hard to navigate for some, for Billy it was pure ease. 

He’s walked through these plains so many times, he’s sure his feet have hit the same dirt, have brushed past the grass strands that are children to the one’s he past before. Often times, he surveys the moon, notes the phase it’s in and wonders if She recognizes him unlike someone else. She must, he thinks, staring up at the bright crescent moon. She must know me. 

He’s overcome by the gesture of her all-knowingness that he almost trips over a rock embedded in the dirt. Billy catches himself before he can fall, then looks back at the rock, using the toe of his boot to push into the dirt and kick the rock out of it’s home. Then he feels bad for it and puts it back. 

When your cottage begins to come into view, his breath quickens and he breathes in once, then twice deeply. 

Billy grew up out in the fields near the kingdom’s village until he turned 10. He lived in a small farmhouse with only one room, but it was the home he loved. Then his life completely turned. 

The King took his mother as his wife after seeing her in the village, her beauty stunning him so much, that it warranted a marriage. It was unbecoming for a King to choose a villager as his wife, but the ceremony commenced nonetheless. And Billy was whisked away from his life completely, never to see you again. 

Before getting too close to the cottage, Billy does what does every night he visits, repeating the number in his head, 57. It’s his 57th visit tonight to see the lovely village girl that is you, always dressed in warm browns and earthly oranges, always a tad dirty because you take your baths late at night. 

He learned it because he stayed later than he meant to just a week ago. You flushed telling him you needed to bathe and you did not want him to sit around and wait for you. But he swore to you he would. Billy would wait for ages, it seems. 

The night wind rushes his face, hitting his cheeks and his nose in it’s cold. Billy says a thank you in his head to it. 

His boots miss the dirt the moment they step the broken up stone path that leads your cottage. Lights illuminate through your windows so he knows you’re awake, not that he ever expected you to be asleep. 

Billy stops in front of your old wooden door, the handle is rusted, and he had promised you he would do something about it only for you to say you knew how to handle rusty doorknobs, as though it was a common occurrence. It made him laugh. 

His hand raises and he swallows hard, his knuckles brushing to the wood before he knocks. 

Three times. 

Scuffling and the sound of a pot meets his ears and Billy can’t help the warm smile that graces his lips. He leans to the doorway, setting a hand on his belt just in time for the door to open. 

You slowly forgot things about him. Sure, he was the prince, and you always knew that, but Billy rarely left castle grounds (an order implemented by his stepfather The King, supposedly for his safety). So you, the lovely village girl he liked playing in the mud with never got to see him grow up into the man he is now. 

A few months ago, Billy found a way out of the castle gates. And since has journeyed out into the fields and nature around, to get a moment’s peace before returning. Sometimes he thought about running away completely, but then he would be leaving his poor mother and little brother. He thought about taking them with him too, but Billy knew his mother would never agree to such a thing. 

So instead, he spent whatever few hours he could sneak away outside, relishing in the small taste of freedom. 

You’re there, in your modest and simple dark orange dress, an apron over the skirt and your sleeves rolled up. Billy notes that you’re a little sweaty and he can see the fire roaring in your hearth. 

“Henry, you’re early today,” you greet him with a pant and a grin, swiping your wrist over your forehead to get some sweat at bay. 

He remembered you. One night, he found himself walking towards your cottage. He knew the way there like he had seen you just yesterday. 

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Billy expected you to recognize him. When you did not, he got cold feet. 

Called himself Henry, an old family name, and pretended to be a wandering stranger. He prayed that you somehow just put the pieces together so that by his second visit, you would point it out, but you don’t. And Billy gets wrapped up in being with you, getting to know you now and not just the you that he had remembered, the 10-year-old girl that loved kites and hated fruit. 

“Ah, yeah. ‘Spose I couldn’t miss your cookin’ this time,” Billy says, his heart settling into a calmness that he knows won’t last long. It never does around you. He taps his fingers to his belt as you roll your eyes at his implicated complement. 

“Well, there’s enough stew for you, so grab a bowl and pour it yourself, I’m tired.”

He chuckles and walks into your home, shutting the door behind him and latching it up. In truth, he was not hungry. The dinner at the castle was plentiful and Billy chastiszes himself for indulging in it when your homecooked stew was better than anything else he could eat at home. 

Home. 

“You’re tired? I don’t want to bother,” Billy says in a softer tone, watching you wipe the sweat from your face with an old rag as his hands touch to one of the clean bowls on your table. 

“Nonsense. You never bother me, Henry,” you tell him, like it’s ridiculous of him to even wonder. 

Henry. The name bites at him like a venomous snake, a poison that’s slowly reaching it’s way to his heart. Soon enough it would kill him.  

He spends his days figuring out answers to questions you may ask about his life, but truly, he fibs small. Besides the big thing. 

Otherwise, he tells you he comes from little money, loves to read adventure books and tall tales, and imagines himself as the hero or sometimes the morally corrupt protagonist. That he wishes deeply for a dog. He loves carrots but not tomatoes. All truths. Billy tells you that he wants to travel and live out in the woods, and that’s why he rarely visits in the day. His lonesome is important to him. And you’re busy anyway, it’s easier to see you at night. 

He could see the skeptical look in your eye when he had to explain this, but you move on. It aches in his heart, but the more he spends time with you, he forgets himself anyway, and that’s what he longed for. To forget about Prince William Antrim. Until the reminder of sleep comes about and he has to leave your bed and make the walk back to the castle. 

Out there with you, he’s Billy. It’s a shame he cannot say it. 

Billy sits with his stew while you preemptively cool yourself down. You open a window to let the breeze fly in and a sigh of relief leaves your lips. If Billy tilts his head a little, he can see the moon poking Her gaze through the window. He imagines She is saying hello to him. Hello to you, maybe whispering in your ear, ‘It’s Billy! It’s Billy boy!’. 

But after 57 visits, Billy’s lost complete hope that you know it’s him. You don’t. That’s the fact of this entire debacle. 

He pushes it out of his head when you turn back to him, “The stew up to your standards?”

Billy takes a hefty bite and makes an overexaggerated face, like the food is truly orgasmic and in some ways it is. But he only does it to hear your laugh, which sounds throughout the small room. 

“Alright, alright, good to know,” you get your words out through your laughter, then neatly fold the rag you had been using to rid yourself of the dampness on your face. 

“You feelin’ okay? It’s cold out and you’re sweatin’,” Billy says. He can’t help but worry. He knows all too well how easy it is for people to get sick out here. 

“Yeah, I was leaning too close to the fire making the stew, that’s all.”

He raises his brow, taking another spoonful into his mouth and contemplating your words, “Now, I’m no cooking expert, but maybe you shouldn’t lean too close to the fire, sweet.”

“Oh, hush. I won’t fall in. I promise you.” 

You cross the room, bringing yourself closer to him. Billy can’t explain it, but you move so effortlessly. He could easily imagine you in one of the royal ballgowns his mother and step-cousins wear and all the ladies in waiting. You would glide on the ballroom floor with the same amount of ease you walk through your small cottage in. His heart would flutter all the same and his cheeks would tinge with red every time. Just like know. 

You perch yourself on his knee as he takes a small bite of stew and your hands find their way to his belt, skimming the top of it. His breath is deeper, but he pretends to not be affected. The last two or so weeks have been more intimate than he could imagine. 

He kissed your lips for the first time on the haybale out in your barn and for those few seconds, he saw the life he feels he should have had. The one where he grew up at your side and asked you to marry him once the two of you were old enough. The one that lived in this little cottage with you and worked as a farmer. He felt it all flash in his mind as he kissed your lips and your hands touched his body, but the moment you pulled away, it was gone. 

Your hand stops at his dagger, which you slowly pull from his sheath, to study the hilt. “Don’t think I’ve seen you with this one before.”

Billy panics. The hilt of that dagger was by far a little more intricate than the one he usually brought with him. A mistake on his part for not switching out the blades. 

“It looks…expensive,” you mumble, your tone closer to a tease rather than speculative. 

“I stole it,” he blurts out. 

Your eyes find his, then return to the dagger as you trace the detailing, “Stole it? Little outlaw now, are ya, Henry?” 

You nudge your elbow into him in jest and slip the dagger back into his sheath as he chuckles. It’s a nervous one, though you don’t seem to pick up on that face. He rubs his thumb into your knee, a soothing gesture more to calm himself. He almost gets distracted, wanting to kneel right there and kiss your knee.

Billy finds himself asking, “You don’t care that I stole it?” Lies. 

“No,” you speak quiet, your hand tracing his hair at his temple and smoothing it back, “I see no harm in stealing if it’s from the rich. They already fuck us over enough. All King Antrim’s thought, I tell ya.”

He blinks at you but nods in response, quelling his expression to a neutral territory. In his nights with you here, you scarcely have mentioned his step-father. But it’s been quite a while since the topic came up and it shot a bolt of nerves through him. 

It’s a miracle that you don’t dwell on the subject. 

“What did you do today?”

Billy hums at your question and leans his head more into your head, his hand tugging at your knee over your thick dress to bring you more into his lap. “I hunted…did fairly well. Though it got too cold…made sure to rest some so I could come see you.”

Billy did go hunting. There was a small section of forest on castle grounds that he went on hunting parties with, though they were much fancier than what you might be picturing. 

“Mm, ever the charmer,” you mumble. 

“I need to be,” he says, with more conviction than he thought he might have. His hand moves up to cup your face, “You…you’re like the stars…and I think…the stars need to be earned and…charmed and…just…given all from man.”

Billy remembers when he had his first crush after becoming Prince. There was a daughter of a high lord that he took a liking too. He would write poetry for her and speak to her in flowery language but she never understood it. Called him odd. But he could speak his oddness to you and you would always look at him like he created the entire world. Like the words he was speaking were words you’ve never heard before and you were utterly fascinated. 

Your eyes tell him this now. You let out a breath, “You are so unlike any other I’ve met.”

Billy warms inside and he brings your head closer until his forehead is pressed to yours. His breath ghosts your lips and he lets his nose get smushed, “You’re all I would like to know.”

Frantic yet full of deep love movements are what gets you to your bed with Billy above you. His lips have not been able to leave your body since he uttered his words. He kisses your cheeks and your brow bone. The crease of your forehead and the crown of your head. His lips make their presence down the curve of your jaw all the way to your neck, his large hands holding your sides as your own thread in his hair. 

Billy wishes he could speak a symphony to you in the moment, but he converses with his mouth. He groans at the tight strings of your bodice, as his lips kiss your collarbone and to the top of your breasts. His impatience makes you smile beyond what you thought you your lips could ever reach. You work on the ties as his mouth tries to dig down to the valley of your breasts. 

Once it’s undone, Billy helps you slip off the shoulders of your dress and tug it down till it’s pooled around your waist. He hesitates on taking your undershirt off until you tell him four times you’re sure.

“I’ve never done this,” he mutters between your breasts, making himself a new home right there. 

“Neither have I.”

The thought comforts him and he nods. Billy forgets the moon’s call as a breeze hits the both of you because you’re so warm. His vest and shirt are off within a couple of seconds as his mouth acquaints itself with your breasts, his tongue swirling to your nipple and mumbling to your skin how pretty you are. 

He strains hard against his trousers, rutting to your thigh for the little bit of relief it provides. Billy’s touched himself before, he’s done as much as that, but nothing else besides miscellaneous kisses with the daughters of his kitchen or stable staff. 

Billy’s read a lot. A lot of tales of the desires of the flesh and indulgences one can have with it. He’s seen it with his own eyes with his step-father, but the passions he’s read about and truly otherworldly nature of the act itself, in his opinion, was something that he knew he would save for love. 

The love he feels now as your hands caress over the front of his trousers, desperately pulling him into you, wanting him to be just as naked you’re beginning to get, that’s right. That’s the deep pit in his stomach and the thrumming in his head that he knows he’s supposed to feel. The way you’re looking at him as though he’s the only person to exist, like he is the world you want, it sets him ablaze in all aspects of his life. Mentally. Physically. Every part of himself.

When he gets you fully naked beneath him, Billy has to sit back and admire you. He knows you embarrass easy so he coos, “No, darlin’, no…you…you’re unbelievable that’s all…I…you’re beautiful.” 

His hand catches your chin and he pecks at your lips, his smile easy and comforting and the one you give him back is effervescent. 

“You’re too clothed,” you pout to him and he lets himself relax with a chuckle, leaning himself back over you and letting you work on his trousers, until he can push them down along with his underpants. 

Billy lets you take him in. He’s fully hard. Fully aching for you. Fully wanting to feel the love and desperate warmth you have to give him and he’ll give you his all back, he promises it silently. 

A lot of small kisses fall to your face as he positions himself, bring your legs up to his hips. You smooth his hair back and let his forehead find yours. 

“You’ve really charmed the stars out of me.”

Billy chuckles and shakes his head a bit, leaving a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth, “The stars will never leave you, my darlin’. Never.” 

Life is forgotten when he sinks into you. No time to think things through more when he’s eased into your cunt and buried his face into your hair, breathing in you like he’s about to take his last breath. 

Billy feels his approaching release too soon but holds off all he can as you adjust to him, your breaths hard and strained, but shrouded in as much overwhelmed feelings as he’s experiencing. 

The thud of your heartbeat enlightens him more than he realizes in the moment. You’re alive. You’re here. He’s alive. He’s here. He’s him and you’re you and nothing could amount to the sheer content he feels when he can start to rock his hips into you. 

The stretch aches you, he knows, so he he goes slow, bringing his cursed mouth to your ear and muttering almost nonstop, “lovely…lovely darlin’...everythin’ I feel right now is for you…oh fuck, it’s for you…”

Billy’s distraught when you tell him you love him. The words slip through your mouth like they’re meant to be there and meant to be directed at him. He says it back to you in a strangled moan, trying his absolute hardest to not thrust any faster into you. The pace, while slow, is still enough, rocking your crickety bed and helping to spill moans form your moan as the initial uncomfortablness subsides. 

“Sweet, please,” he mumbles to your ear, trailing his lips to yours so he can feel your noises and your breath and breathe it in. So he could give you his breath. 

Billy is not sure if he can get you to finish, but he tries. He’s learned enough from his books to know to touch you, reaching his hand down to find and rub your clit, which elicits more pleasurable sounds from you. 

“I love you, I love you, please,” Billy repeats it like it’s all he knows. And in this moment, it is all he knows. 

You say it back through moans although it’s harder to speak as your body shakes and clings to him, but he doesn’t care to think it through as his cock buries into you, spilling every bit of himself he has to give. He feels you spasm against him and he splotches kisses your jaw, mumbling a thank you. 

“I love you, Henry,” you whisper, rubbing your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

Billy feels sick. Henry. Henry. Henry.

Everything crashes around him all at once and he feels tears brim at his eyes. His head lifts but he is not looking at you. You clock his tears and cup his face, much to dismay, but Billy feels too weak to push you away. 

“What’s wrong?” You’re so concerned, it hurts. 

Billy slips himself out of you with a heavy sigh and shakes his head, which temporarily rids his face of your hands. His body did not deserve you, he tells himself. 

“I…,” he trails off. Not sure what he even wants to say. 

“Henry. What’s wrong?” Your voice is more worried, your brow knit and your eyes starry. Emotionally starry. Scared. 

Billy moves away from you before he could start crying and he hears you sit up in your bed, pulling the sheet over yourself to conceal your body. The moment is gone and the moon is screaming at him. Berating at him through the window. 

He stares at Her crescent shape through the open window, ignoring the fact he’s completely naked still, and then quickly goes for his belt, opening the small pouch on the opposite side of where his dagger sits. 

“Seriously, you’re worrying me what’s-”

“Please,” he interrupts. 

Once he sees you close your mouth, he stands back up, his hand clasped around something and he sits back in bed. Billy is frozen. His muscles tightened and heavy like wood. It feels like a large stone is pressing in on his chest as his fingers shakily open up to reveal the small locket in his palm. 

You’re confused at first. He expected that. But then you take a closer look at it, taking the metal in your hands and studying it. When you turn it over, he feels sick again. 

Billy, your thumb rubs over the engraved name on the locket, your mouth opening, then closing in confusion, “I don’t understand what this is.”

You look back at him, then the locket, then return to his face in a double take. 

The moon and the candles in your room illuminate him in a different light. Casting a glow so faint, it’s so easy you could have missed it. 

“I don’t understand,” you whisper. 

“I’m…,” he clears his throat. He wishes he was unable to meet your gaze, but he cannot look away from the woman he loves, “Billy…I’m Billy. Do you remember-”

“Of course I remember Billy, he’s the Prince now,” you rush out, your breath quickening. 

“Yeah…the Prince,” he whispers back to you, “I’m Billy,” he repeats, his heart ripping in two at your expression. You’re bewildered. The moon has enlightened you, yet you seem to be finding it hard to believe. 

“I still don’t understand, I-”

“I learned how to escape the castle grounds at night and I…I always remembered, how could I not? You were…you were the stars and-”

“Don’t say that now,” you interrupt him with your voice raising. You tighten the sheet to your body, suddenly feeling way too naked around him. 

“Sweet, I…I thought you’d recognize me, I recognized you! I fuckin’ recognized you after over a decade and it…you didn’t…you didn’t even recognize me,” Billy defaltes as he continues to speak while you look at him aghast. 

“Why should I? You were here one night then gone. Gone to be a Prince and the Prince never shows his face, how was I supposed to…I moved on. We were 10…you became a fucking prince Billy! That’s more of a life than this!”

“It’s not!” 

Billy tries not to dwell on the part you mentioned about moving on. He doesn’t want to yell at you. His jaw tightens and he lets it clench, lets himself sit with the anger for a couple moments. 

“You could be lying,” you say, but the fact he had the locket, the one you would know of considering you had the same one rested to nightstand with your own name engraved on it was enough. Your late mother bought them for the two of you for a holiday. When there was a little more money than usual.

“I’m not lying,” Billy tries to soften his tone, “I’m not. I’m Billy. I’m the Billy that rolled down the muddy hills with you and caught water spiders to throw at you and…ate all your apples because you hated them…and…fucked up your kite and made you a shitty new one. That’s me.”

A silent moment befalls the two of you where the only sound is the outside wind. It’s whispering to Billy. A mix of comforts and also ridiculing him for lying. He wants to keel over. Billy can sense your anger without looking at you, but you don't yell at him.

“Why? Why lie to me? I would’ve…if you told me, I would’ve kept the secret.”

Another crack in his fragile split heart emerges, “I…you didn’t…recognize me and I…I froze and…”

“You had so many opportunities to come clean,” your voice shakes as tears well to your eyes, “and now you tell me after we’ve…after we’ve…had one another? Henry…Billy…whoever the fuck you are…you are not…who I thought you were.”

He has no words to argue with you. Billy doesn’t bow his head in shame, he takes it head on, his eyes locked to yours as a few tears slip down your cheeks. 

“I do…I do love you,” is what he decides to say. 

You scoff at it. He knows you love him, but this is worse. You love him and he was himself in some vein, but the part of himself he absolutely hates is something you have yet to know. An unknown part of him that reeks with disdain and hatred and anger. 

“Please, leave.”

Billy silently gathers his clothes and gets them on, but he can’t bring himself to leave. His legs feel like they’ll collapse, his head swimming in a fast current he can’t escape, he’s afraid he’ll drown. 

“Sweet, just-”

“Billy,” you sniffle. Clutching the sheet so tight to yourself, you force yourself to look at him, “Don’t come back here. Ever.”

He nods. He hopes to the moon that you don’t mean those words, but you spit them with a bite that hurts his soul. 

“I love you,” he tells you again. He’s not hoping to hear you say it back. But Billy needs you to hear him say it. That despite the fact of anything, he does love you. 

He gets to your door. But stills. 

His eyes squeeze shut and he swallows hard, shifting on his feet, “I never…ever…felt more myself than I did the days I’ve spent with you. You are…not of this world, sweet. And I…I will always long for…this time and…what I should have done. I am…deeply…sorry…can’t fix anythin’, but I’m so fuckin’ sorry…I..,” his voice cracks and he risks taking a glance at you, “I am in love with you…it’s set in my body for the rest of time.”

With one more glance over your being, he opens your door, and closes it behind him. 

The cold air whips his face and holds him in an uncomfortable hug he can’t escape. The moon frowns at him and leaves his presence to comfort the lovely village girl he left. 

Billy realizes he left his locket with you, but he does not hesitate to keep walking to the castle. 

The locket can stay with you. It has his love, the true love, that he does not believe he deserves to give to you. At least the locket and the moon can remind you while he rots in his castle chambers. 

[margareturtle]

Rip Livia Blackthorn and Max Lightwood

The TWP gang would’ve been just too powerful with y’all as a part of it 💔😔

[nickeverdeen]

Willow masterlist

Match-up:

Nothing yet

Preferences:

How ticklish are the Willow characters?

Kit Tanthalos (wlw if romantic)

Imagine:

Whispers of the heart

Hooked on You

Hcs:

Sith!Kit Tanthalos secretly dating Jedi padawan fem!reader

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Elora Danan

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Willow Ufgood

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Alphabet (only SFW):

Nothing yet

Jade Claymore (wlw if romantic)

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Boorman

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Graydon Hastur

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

Airk Tanthalos

Imagine:

Nothing yet

Hcs:

Nothing yet

Smut:

Nothing yet

Alphabet:

Nothing yet

[papaemeritusthefifth]

Imagine if once a year the ministry allows some of the ghouls' family to spend a few days. After someone pleaded with Secondo during his era, he decided that it would be a great team building exercise and can improve morale. They had families in the Pit, after all. So now they have a few days each year where the families are invited to stay. In light of this, here's a few family dynamics!

Swiss: Has a great relationship with his family. He's one of the oldest in his extended family, so he is immediately swarmed by a few kits. He's great with the kids and is happy to help. He's closest with his brother, who is only a couple years older than him.

Phantom/Aeon: Is an only child, and it shows. Such a mama's boy. There's a moment during the first year with the new summons where their families show up and suddenly the older quintessence ghouls take a knee. A regal woman is standing in the smoldering summoning circle and Omega greets her with a solemn "Your Highness, we were not expecting you." This tall being regards everyone with a cold stare. They hear an absolutely ear piercing "MAMA!! :D" as Phantom rushes to hug her. And that is how everyone finds out that our favorite bat is related to a Prince of Hell. Despite this...shocking revelation, Phantom is on his best behavior for the next few days. It's clear he knows all the proper etiquette and is making a show of teaching everyone. Somehow, this ghoul who cannot figure out what kind of animal the Pink Panther is has a deep and extensive knowledge of court attire and manners. Dew is flabbergasted the entire time.

Mountain: Parents aren't in the picture anymore, so he grew up with his aunt, uncle, and two cousins. They were always disdainful towards our boy and treated him as such. Any gifts he received - if any - were only bribes to get him to do their bidding. When Mount was first summoned, he was quite reserved. Kept to himself and never accepted invitations for pack bonding. He warmed up to everyone over time, but no one wil forget those first few months. He is one of the few who doesn't have family visit.

Rain: Isn't close with his family. They haven't done anything wrong, but they just aren't as close as some others. His family visits but moreso out of responsibility. This is a family that is entirely neutral towards each other. Of course they love each other and keep in touch, but their letters are months apart and moreso to keep everyone up to date on large events. If you look closely, you can see Rain eyeing Swiss with his family with a glimmer of envy.

Cirrus: Has a small family, just her fathers and a younger sibling. They are the closest team you will ever see. Constant messages sent back and forth. When they visit, they immediately jump into the middle of a conversation as if that's how it always was. She gets majorly mischevious in the way that only siblings can bring out. You can visibly see her relax when they visit, and you realize how much being away from them takes it out of her.

That's it so far, but believe I'll be thinking up more soon!

[tys-kitty]

Imagine some Prince of Hell crashing a Shadowhunter gathering and asking „Where‘s the First Heir?“ and Ty immediately starts pushing Kit behind him and drawing a weapon without a second thought

[sesamenom]

meet again at the end of time

(aka: C&C finally get their own pet edain)

some background:

(for those not following the braywashed saga) the two guys in the middle are (real, entirely human) wrestlers Elton Prince & Kit Wilson of Pretty Deadly, introduced to the silm fandom by @kitwilsonsass, and known for their uncanny resemblance to C&C in both appearance and demeanor.

As Arda is Earth, the Dagorath has not yet happened, and PD are human people who exist, it is entirely canon compliant for them to join C&C in the dagorath. Hence, CCPD alliance.

design notes:

CC

Celegorm's tattoos represent a symbol of devotion to Orome/the Hunt by imitating Orome's vala markings. Given that bows aren't the best weapon for melee fights, his primary weapon here is based on a boar spear, because I imagine similar tactics would be helpful against some of Morgoth's larger creatures. He wears the Feanorian star once on his armband and once painted on his shield (not shown).

Curufin's helm is based off the Silm description of the red-plumed helms of the Host of Feanor. His armor features one Feanorian star and the Trees (telperion not shown), and his shield bears one other star. He wears a dwarven knife (not Angrist since beren broke it) on his belt.

PD

Based on braywashed's assortment of PD outfit posts, they seem to have a light/dark color scheme, reflected here in their armor colors. Their hairstyles are based on what seems like their irl/interview-hair (aka practical hairstyle, because as unnaturally elven as they are they sadly do not have magical hair) (x). Elto's pink arrow fletchings and Kitto's blue mesh cape refer to the pink/blue matching outfit (x), while Elto's bow/quiver harness and both of their shirt colors reference the harness outfit.

Their weapons follow the opposite color scheme as their armor for contrast purposes, and weapon types (double rapiers + bow, double daggers) are based on braywashed's post here.

Both of PD's armor designs draw influence from c. 15th century English armor, seeing as they are British people, and feature a unique half-breastplate evocative of the extremely cropped sleeve shirt things they normally wear when wrestling.

edit: uploaded the wrong version (no tattoos) at first oops

[rayshippouuchiha]

I was going through the Team Uzumaki AU tag again, when I saw the (potential) crossover with Shadows and Strength, and now I’m wondering: what would happen in some of your other time travel AUs if the kits also ended up in the past with Naruto? Like, I feel like they’d be thrilled in Golden Prince because their precious Naru-sensei is finally being treated with the respect and reverence he deserves! Bad news is, another Uchiha is now interested in him and is Uchiha-ing TM very aggressively in Naruto’s direction. And I can’t even begin to imagine how they would react in Bridge Between to both Tobirama and Madara’s awkward attempts at flirting.

Look if the Kits started being ping-ponged through various AUs they would absolutely lose their entire minds at the number of times they run into various Uchiha just daring to Uchiha in Naru-sensei's direction. They would be having exactly NONE of it.

[spideyhexx]

RAHHHH PRINCE BILLY WHO SNEAKS OUT AT NIGHT AND WEARS A BANDANA OVER HIS FACE SO NO ONE KNOWS ITS THE PRINCE

[margareturtle]

What gets me about Mr Christopher Jonathan Herondale is that his name is CHRISTOPHER JONATHAN HERONDALE

LIKE BOTH OF HIS PARENTS HATED SHADOWHUNTERS

And he still ended up with THE most SHADOWHUNTER NAME imaginable

Like even if he wasn’t a Herondale for his first 15 yrs he was still CHRISTOPHER JONATHAN

LIKE BRUH 😭

Not to mention when Kit inherits some faerie titles he’s gonna give Jace a run for his money

Like:

Best regards, yours,

Heir to the Lands Under the Hill, Prince amongst the Courts of Faerie, last descendant to the Princess Auraline, the fated first heir of faerie

Christopher Jonathan Grey Carstairs Herondale

[d4rkshad0w]

imagine how powerful Kit and Ash would be in Faerie, the Heir to ALL of Faerie and the Prince of the seelie court 🤭🤭

[thedeviltohisangel]

I live for Bucky and Spook and I have kids on the brain after rewatching the scene with Buck and Bucky talking to British kids Billy and Sammy so hear me out: Spook offering to babysit for one of the Brit’s kids and one of the kids sees them flirting and asks if they’re gonna get married

All The Things I Did (Interlude): I Want To Give You The World

a/n: ok this interlude became very important to the story. hints at post-berlin (promise we will see pre-berlin soon) cass and john, cass/lemmons/local children fluff, meeting cass' older brother, and hot times on a blanket in a field. interlude requests always open//inbox and DMs ready to accept screams. see you all soon!

The tip of the pencil snapped under the force she was using to press it into the paper. It was the fourth one in the past half hour. She thinks she was going to lose her mind. That the walls were closing in around her like a personal prison cell. That is almost exactly what it was.

The doctors and the OSS had her grounded post-Berlin. They had offered her two choices. Extended stay at a flak house or operational pause and desk duty. Cass had thought she was making the right decision. The former had meant leaving base and leaving John. After she had just gotten him back. After they had only just spent the night together and discovered the bliss of waking up in each other’s arms. No. She couldn’t leave him after all that. But desk duty. Desk duty was causing her slow decline. And to add insult to injury, John had been tasked with a mission to North Africa anyways. 

She was trying to catch up on her reports and her targeting packages but it wasn’t enough. John wasn’t here to distract her. Colonel Harding would just flirt with her. Everybody else was locked in their own offices and working frantically. She was alone on her own boredom island. 

----

Assuming some sunshine might do the trick, she found herself walking the runways. They were empty just like her heart. Her mustachioed pilot off in a far away land no doubt enjoying his time in the desert. Cass imagined he was still finding a way to cause trouble. Had asked him to look up her brother while he was there. She hoped Bobby at least ribbed him a little bit. 

“Lemmons, what have we got going on over here?” It looked like a plane engine and it looked like he had children holding wrenches and helping him work on it.

“Lieutenant Cooper!” The kids saluted her with a smile. She lifted her hand with a laugh in reply. 

“Just teaching these kids how to take apart an engine,” Lemmons answered. “Don’t get a lot of down time.” Cass hummed and reached towards the tool kit to pick a wrench of her own.

“Got room for one more?”

----

“Miss Cass?” One of the little girls had been finding Lieutenant too hard to pronounce the past couple of days so she had given her permission to use her name.

“Yes, ma’am?” They were all sitting together around a bonfire that Lemmons had started. The kids were roasting whatever they could put on a stick and telling stories about all the fun them and the mechanics were getting up to.

“Can you tell the story about Prince Bucky and Princess Spook again?” Spending this time with them was a breath of fresh her. Reminded her of her nieces and nephews back home that she missed so dearly. 

“Where did we leave off?” A couple of the other kids gathered around at the murmur that the story was continuing. 

“Prince Bucky was using his flying unicorn to kill the evil dragon!”

“Oh please, Miss Cass, tell us if Princess Spook is okay.” She ignored the smirks of the men that were also present. Cass gave them a ‘can you blame me’ look. She missed her man and this was one of the ways she knew how to fill the void.

“Prince Bucky arrived at the castle just in time, the dragon about to breathe fire into the window where Princess Spook was asleep.” They gasped, fully committed to the story. “She woke up and looked out the window and saw Prince Bucky and his sword, ready to kill the dragon!” 

“I’m sure Bucky is very proficient with his sword,” one of the mechanics scoffed around his cigarette. Cass shot him a look that could kill him and he quieted instantly. 

“He raised it high,” she lifted her arms over her head, “and brought it down right through its scales before it could kill the Princess.” The children breathed a sigh of relief.

“Are they going to get their happily ever after, Lieutenant?” Lemmons asked with a grin. 

“What do you all think? Should the Prince and Princess be together forever?” They all nodded furiously, Cass laughing at the chocolate on their faces. 

“Miss Cass, they should get married and then Princess Spook can wear a really big dress.” 

“Then they’ll be King and Queen!”

“And King Bucky can slay a million more dragons!” Two of the boys turned towards each other with their sticks and began to use them as their own swords. The rest of the kids took their cues and took off into the darkening field to act out their own version of the fairytale.

“They’re good kids, Ken. It’s nice that you’ve taken them under your wing.” Cass bumped his shoulder playfully as he blushed around his sip of beer. 

“They are much more into Princess Spook than they are plane engines these days, Lieutenant.” 

“Cass, please. No ranks around the fire.” She poked at it gently. The distractions had been so welcome. This time spent away from John had only reaffirmed her feelings for him were true. That they were deep and meaningful and could last a long time. When she had gotten back from Berlin, he had told her he loved her. Had looked her in the eyes and held her steady and said the three words that Cass thinks carried the most meaning the world. And he had fucking meant them. 

She hadn’t said them back even though she felt it too. Never one to be held back by fear, she was in this instance. John could be taken from her at any moment and there was nothing she could do about it. In her line of work, lack of control got you killed. 

----

Lemmons was teaching her how to properly oil the gears of the practice engine when the first plane was spotted on the horizon. Cass stood and watched them appear one by one through the lenses of her aviators and smiled before dropping her tools and running to the tower.

“Lieutenant Cooper.” Colonel Harding lowered his binoculars to give her a once over, clearly enjoying the sight of her in a jumpsuit rather than her usual uniform. She plucked the binoculars from his hand while he was distracted.

“My forearms are too tantalizing this afternoon, Colonel?” He smirked as she looked out the window, until she spotted John’s plan and smiled with glee. 

“Cassandra, I have dinner tomorrow night with my British counterpart. He’s known to talk with the prodding of scotch and a beautiful woman.” She hummed in thought as the plane carrying the man she loved got closer and closer.

“I’ll think about it.” It wasn’t the first time Harding had invited her as his date to a fancy dinner with their partners. It gave her a chance to elicit information of value from them as she played dumb and sipped a glass of water. John had muttered under his breath about it previously but after the most recent change in their relationship, she doesn’t think he would be so subtle about it anymore.

“Best not keep Major Egan waiting.” He took the binoculars from her hand and watched her go with a sad smile on his face. If only he was younger.

She thinks she exercised the most patience she ever had in her entire life as she wanted for his plane to land and taxi to its final resting place. Her entire body was vibrating as she waited and waited for the hatch to open and almost groaned that he would of course be the last one to exit. And then he dropped out of the plane and the clouds parted so the sun could shine on John Clarence Egan and she was off across the airfield like a cannonball. 

“C’mere my lovely, lovely angel.” He caught her as she jumped into his arms, her legs around his waist and arms around his neck in an instant. John went for a kiss but she stopped him with a finger to his lips.

“Any new scratches or bruises or wounds of any kind I need to know about?” She had already located one on the bridge of his nose and on his forehead. 

“You can do a more thorough check when you take a shower with me later, how about that?” he whispered. 

“Yeah, it does seem you need one.” John couldn’t wait to kiss her anymore. He groaned as she wasted no time slipping her tongue between his lips, gripping her tighter against his body. “I missed you. Thought about you every day,” she admitted. He let her legs drop onto the ground but her arms stayed exactly where they had been. 

“The men almost mutinied against me for talking about you too much.” She giggled and John kissed her again. “Though it did make me look a little desperate in front of your brother.” Cass looked at him with wide eyes.

“You saw Bobby? Were you able to give him the box?” John nodded. 

“You didn’t tell me he was that frightening.” He didn’t mention that his hand was shaking when he was giving him the box. The way the older man had looked at him like ham on a buffet table made him sweat. Gale had loved every minute of it.

“He’s just protective when it comes to boys in my life.” Especially after Sidney Landry.

“Gave me a stern speech about the kind of girl you are and how you deserve to be treated and that he knew what I looked like now so he could kill me if he needed to.”

“He’s doing okay? Seemed intact?” Cass hadn’t seen Bobby since he left for boot camp immediately after Pearl a few years ago. Remembers hugging him with tears that she may not see him again. That he was going somewhere far away where people hated him. He had told her he had to. That he needed to do something to protect his family. Told her he wouldn’t be surprised if she found a way to join him over there. She and her brother Kent followed not too soon after. God how she missed them both.

“Told me to tell you he misses you.” John had been honest with the man about his feelings for Cass. Didn’t know if he would ever get the chance to talk to her father and that Bobby would be the next best thing. Told him he loved her and wanted to be with her when this was all over. That Cass was it for him, he knew it as well as he knew how to fly. Bobby was hesitant at first but watched the way John looked when he spoke about her. Heard the men making jokes about the lovestruck Major. Bobby had even asked Major Cleven for his thoughts on the whole situation. Gale had raved about Cass and how good she was for John. That the two of them complemented each other like salt and pepper. 

When John asked for Bobby’s blessing to one day marry Cass, he had given it.

----

That night, they were back where they could always be found. On a blanket in the field of wildflowers a few minutes drive from base. John’s hat and blazer were thrown somewhere in the distance and she was working on the knot of his tie as he hovered on top of her. 

“You aren’t allowed to leave me for that long ever again,” she breathed as she threw the offensive fabric over his head and John’s hands moved the hem of her dress around her waist.

“Yes, ma’am.” Cass used his moment of weakness to change the balance of power, hooking her leg around his waist and pushing against his shoulder until his back hit the blanket and she was straddling him. “I like the way you think.” She had only unbuttoned the first few on her dress, John sitting up in a daze at the sight of white lace, kissing her skin as she exposed it to him. Then, over the hill, was the sound of screeching children and it was only getting closer.

“John-”

“Miss Cass! Miss Cass!” She pushed John down as they came running towards her. Her fingers barely locked the last button into place before they were swarmed. 

“We didn’t see you today!”

“Sergeant Lemmons said Prince Bucky was back!”

“Is this him?” She went to move from her precarious position over John when his hands on her hips stopped her.

“Not yet,” he cautioned. No need to scar these children for life.

“Yes, this is…Prince Bucky.” She had told John, after he had coaxed her into the shower, about her time with Lemmons and the local kids. About the story of Prince Bucky and Princess Spook and the dragon. He had teased her about their happily ever after all afternoon. “He’s just been back from killing another dragon.” Her look begged him to play along.

“Indeed. A large…gray dragon.” The kids gasped. 

“Was he trying to hurt Princess Spook?”

“I would do anything to rescue my Princess.” Cass couldn’t help herself, pulling him in for a kiss by his collar. 

“Will you be getting married soon?”

“Oh, please, Miss Cass! You’d look so pretty in a princess dress.”

“Prince Bucky hasn’t asked, little ones.” For his part, John was looking at her like the first sight of land after being lost at sea. 

“Will you marry me, Princess Spook?” The kids cheered but Cass was frozen. She knew it wasn’t real, he was placating them and she loved him for it, but hearing the words come from his mouth felt so right. He meant them.

“Yes.” And she meant her answer too. 

[trexalicious]

A scathingly brilliant piece from Jan Moir...🤣

Like a cavalry galloping to the rescue of their wounded leaders, former and current employees of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex rushed into print this week to big up their bosses.

In the pages of Us Weekly, an influential American showbiz magazine popular with teens and teen-moms, print and online readers were breathlessly informed by Team Sussex that Prince Harry was a super-great guy, no airs and graces, just a regular dude, rah-rah-rah.

Meanwhile, what about girlboss Meghan? According to those who worked for her and lived to tell the tale, she was completely marvellous, too. No, really. Pass me that halo and let her duchessy love light shine.

For she was kind and thoughtful. She made great gourmet snacks. 'Some of my favourite memories,' said former Archewell president Mandana Dayani, who lasted 18 months until she left in 2022, 'were during our weekly meetings in her Montecito home, where Meghan always served the most incredible lunches and her latest beautiful concoctions.'

I am imagining exquisite delicacies such as 'vegetable soup' and 'green salad', ­possibly even a delightful 'egg‑based ­omelette' sourced from the in-house ­rescue chickens.

As the Sussex staff detailed the ­positives for posterity, it was hard to determine the true nature of their ­relationship with their bosses. Attorney-­client, doctor-patient, jailer-inmate, star-civilian, duchess-serf?

And was it my imagination or were the outpourings of these worker drones ­reminiscent of the rising hysteria of ­someone chained to a radiator in the basement of Archewell Towers, hoping to get home by Christmas?

According to their parti pris gibberish, Meghan was a Tinker Bell of titbits, a Mother Teresa of munificence; this gift-giving goddess who lavished staff with bow-tied presents and on-brand sharing and caring.

'When I adopted my dog, the next day I had a luxury-brand leash and new collar on my doorstep,' said one former staffer, who amusingly thought the gifts were for her pup.

'They want to take care of us,' one ­current employee told Us Weekly. 'Meghan will do things like: 'You mentioned on the call your skin is bothering you. I put together a kit for you.'

Is that being kind and helpful? Is that tending to the pimpled lame – or a tacit message to up their game?

For those of us who have spent a ­lifetime working in offices and assorted workplaces, alongside good bosses and bad, the thought of a superior sending you a tub of wrinkle cream or some self‑improving unguent, well, it just makes me want to die.

But listen, there is more. Meghan, said one staffer, is known for giving credit where it's due.

'If you're in a meeting and a great idea is referenced, she makes sure to give props [respect and appreciation] to the person who generated the idea,' they said. 'And after a big trip, every employee gets a personal email thanking them for their contribution in making it a success.'

An email! Oh, how lovely. Isn't this low-level respect the very least a valued member of staff deserves?

These fawning responses in Us Weekly came in riposte to a ­damning article in The Hollywood Reporter, which stated that the Duchess's 'terrible behaviour' was the root cause of the high ­turnover rate of staff at the couple's Archewell company.

The report in the entertainment industry bible earlier this month claimed that many of those who work and have worked for Meghan are 'terrified' of her. It included quotes from sources calling her a 'dictator in high heels' who ­'belittles' people and has reduced 'grown men to tears'.

I should point out here that Us Weekly is to the Sussexes what Pravda was to Stalin and what The Guardian is to Labour MP Jess Phillips – a blaring bugle of uncritical support. So, we heard in great detail about Archewell team visits to the couple's ­Montecito mansion, where Meghan gave everyone ­baskets of flowers, fruit and eggs to take home. So darling of her! She also passed on her ­children's hand-me downs. Is there no end to her generosity?

One employee even told Us Weekly that despite Meghan's reputation as a mini tyrant, they had 'never' heard her yell. Instead, the Duchess gave her staff 'clear direction and is ­solution-oriented' – which makes her sound like a rather lovely and amenable bottle of glue.

And when it came to hiring staff, another raving Archewell acolyte insisted that the Duke and ­Duchess of Sussex always 'picked the best of the best from every field and watered the seeds for them to flourish'.

But what are Harry and Meghan growing for posterity out there in California – an Archewell empire or a damp squib? Seeds, ­solutions, eggs . . . what the hell is going on?

Of course, these accusations are nothing new to royal-watchers in the UK. The Duchess of Sussex has long been dogged by reports she promotes a toxic workplace environment, along with repeated accusations of what her lawyers insist to this day we must call ­'difficult' behaviour. In 2021, reports that the former actress had allegedly bullied and reduced staff members to tears at Kensington Palace were dismissed by the Sussexes as a smear. Yet it is no secret that the couple have lost 18 employees to date in their short time as a ­company entity in both the UK and the US.

One new American-based source blames 'unbearable' and ­'condescending' Meghan for the alarming 'churn and burn' rate. These rumours just won't go away – but the big difference this time is that it is US news outlets that are making the claims.

Maer Roshan, co-editor-in-chief of The Hollywood Reporter, said he stands by the story after a backlash that included one ­Sussex source saying the claims were 'fabricated'.

Former and current employees of the Duke and Duchess of Sussex rushed into print this week to big up their bosses.

Roshan told Access Hollywood: 'Our reporter talked to a very high-up source who works for the couple and said: 'Everyone is ­terrified of Meghan.'

'Duchess Difficult is a nickname that has trailed Meghan Markle for quite a few years. What is new is that this notion, since coming to America, that a lot of these rumours were manufactured by the Palace – the reporting that we did suggests that probably isn't true and there is still this ­undercurrent of fear.'

Many of you might remember Prince Harry, in his high, tight, aggrieved voice, telling the world in his various documentaries and interviews that: 'There is a ­hierarchy of the [Royal] Family. You know there is leaking, but there is also ­planting of stories.'

Even The Hollywood Reporter, a neutral observer, now raises an eyebrow at this. This is devastating for the couple whose reputation has survived so far by ­blaming their difficulties on the Royal Family and the British Press, instead of examining their own alleged bad behaviour.

Just a few issues ago in Us Weekly, the Duchess of Sussex was smoothing down the pleats on her kilt of no-guilt and telling everyone that she was opening 'a chapter of joy' in her life and that everything was hunky in her dory.

But now – yet again – the ­Sussexes are back at square one; expending time, energy, favours and friends in defending themselves against the indefensible.

We have been here before, we are back here again; swimming against this avalanche of bad press, slaloming though the ­snowdrifts of snark.

It makes me think, was this westward flight by the Sussexes – this bridge-burning journey into what they presumed would be a better, kinder world, patrolled by powerful friends such as Oprah and billionaire Tyler Perry – ­simply fuelled by a lust for praise and admiration that they felt was their due?

Yet no longer can Meghan and Harry present themselves to the world as a couple under siege, a pair of self-righteous smirkers who felt themselves to be the ­victims of racism and bullying.

The Hollywood Reporter has described them as 'poor decision-makers' who 'change their minds frequently', and added that Harry was a 'very charming ­person' but 'very much an ­enabler'. The poor fool.

Duchess Difficult and the ­Enabling Prince? It sounds like a ­terrible Harry Potter novel, only now there is no magic spell to make this fresh stink vanish into the Californian air.

[garvalhaminho]

forgot to post my thoughts while reading the first chapter of tlkof as someone who has only ever read tda and tid (translated from chaotic portuguese)

thais??? who??

dru likes learning by understanding how things work, relatable (SHE'S LITERALLY ME)

she's learning about downworlders and can ask magnus for help, but specifically cristina (the diva who loved studying faeries!!), mark and helen (icon) and kieran and i love that for her 💞 like yes give her one thing she can take advantage of

SHE'S GOT HER MOTHER ELEANOR'S JACKET !! I REPEAT SHE'S GOT HER MOTHER ELEANOR'S JACKET !!

not her dyeing her hair black (ate)

"thais always looked glamorous in her gear" 🤨 no look i know friends can find each other pretty and beautiful etc but when it's ya literature.....it's usually the censored version of "hot as fuck" JUST SAYING

DRU IS 5'3 YAAA WE'VE GOT THE SAME HEIGHT (i think, i'm not american)

i already love dru and thais's friendship 🫶 they match each others freak

dru trains to forget everything she's gone through 😭

oh already the preppy guys and fuckboys (mason hardcastle)

"dru and thais didn't need to ask each other; they knew already they'd be a team" awwww i already know i'm gonna love their friendship

paige ashdown when i see you in the street (no but like an ableist and fatphobic bully? i'll fight that fucker with my bare hands)

thais speaking portuguese in the middle of nowhere i love it

OH AND THE FUCKBOY IS HER EX AND HE SUCKS, if it was me and i had classes with him i'd literally throw myself off a bridge

dru inventing "sex crocodile",,, she's too iconic i fear

"nothing scared [dru}. nothing in a movie, anyway." babygirl 😭 i remember her like mentioning how she liked horror movies but the horror depicted would never be as bad as the real life horror she's experienced

dru still talks to kit 😭 no like imagine your sister still talks to your situationship of two weeks from three years ago, i'd jump off a bridge (yet again)

"there's no danger. we're on academy grounds" famous last words

"she tugged gently at a dangling lock in her friend's hair" THAT'S LITERALLY A MICROTROPE IN ROMANCE MOVIES

"she cursed silently, imagining every bad word she could think of and some she was pretty sure she'd just made up." let dru say fuck pleaseeee. just once. as a little treat, she deserves it

"she wondered for a moment if she should mention that her brother, mark, was the consort of the unseelie king" not her trying to use her connections

ASH SHOWING UP AND HUMILIATING THE LITTLE FAERIE MEN 😭 he slayed i fear

no yeah he's literally royalty he's literally a prince (get that bag girl!!)

dru thinking that ash's eyes were like the sea glass julian loved......oh how i love this family

"'how do you know my name?' she demanded. his eyes narrowed. 'you must be joking,' he said. 'you've forgotten? you can't have forgotten.'" of course she's forgotten a random guy she was with for two minutes three years ago, she has a life, YOU'RE just a SIMP

ash getting yelled at and reprimanded by his daddy or whatever but still literally helping his crush and sending her away to safety 🙏 and your man can't even text you back

julian and emma leaving london to take care of their child drusilla blackthorn

OH AND JULIAN'S GONNA NEED A LOT A THERAPY AFTER THREE BOOKS OF HIS KIDS GETTING THEMSELVES IN TROUBLE

he didn't even sleep during the three nights she was missing 😭

i fear i might become thais/dru shipper under the right circumstances

[isbreulla]

Time to feed this universe. I had done a couple of illustrations of Sarah's personal objects, and now it's Severus's turn. Of course, I imagined them having lots of other things, but I can only draw a few of them without my mind melting.

Potion Book: The Official. The half-blood prince's one. Murtlap Essence: He is always ready to heal any scratch you have. Calming Draught: He will say it's just in case someone needs it. He won't say that someone is him. Cauldron: because he's a potions master, etc. Newspaper: He likes to keep up with the news, you know, he's nosy. Mug: Sarah saved her allowance to buy him the "#1 dad" mug as a birthday gift and he keeps it as his biggest treasure. Wand: Do I have to explain? Sarah's Pics: He's a doting dad who snaps pictures of his daughter at every opportunity. Even if she's just breathing. Pocket Watch: Eileen left this watch to him before she passed away. It is a watch that has been passed down from generation to generation and he intends to leave it to Sarah one day. Potions Kit: The iconic one we see in the movies

[tys-kitty]

Why do I have this bad feeling that Ty has to choose between saving Kit and saving Livvy in TWP? (Like imagine a prince of hell trying to talk him into handing Kit over or bringing Livvy back)