#my king wife kate

[sentientcave]

Heavy Weighs the Crown

Had to stop working on everything else and write a whole bunch of this instead. Usually I like to finish things that I think might be on the longer side before I start posting, but we're gonna live on the edge with this one. Expect updates in 1-2 Bearimys.

Chapter One - Sweetpea

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Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, Large men picking up reader like a football, No Y/N, A spot of magic, Some exposition, Reader's dad (deceased) was a real piece of work, Reader descriptions kept as neutral as possible but keep in mind that she is a character to me and does have a specific appearance so things might slip through. This is just me having a bit of fun with a fantasy setting because it is my favourite type.

~3.4k Words - MDNI

Sunlight streams down through the light scattering of clouds above, as you carry your nearly empty basket into town to buy a few things for your auntie Kate. She’s not truly your aunt, but over the past few years it’s hard to think of her as anything less than family. She’s not warm, exactly, but she’s honest, and you know that you can trust her with anything.

Kate would usually be at your side when you go into town, watching the crowd with hawkish intensity, as though she still expects agents of the new king to materialize and snatch you away, but she’s away on business, and her wife much less paranoid. You expect that anyone who was ever looking for you has given up on you now. After the civil war, there was a time of instability, and you laid awake many nights, half expecting armed men to break into your bedroom and snatch you away, but everything is smoothed over now, and there’s no reason why Price would feel like he needed you to cement his rule.

You’re happy to just let him have the kingdom. You have more freedom as an ordinary girl, and you’re happier now than you ever have been. You were miserable living in your father’s halls, just a spindly little flower growing without enough sun or rain. And your people are happy now too. It twists your stomach something fierce, to think that your father was never a good king, but the reality is that he wasn’t. People starved while he feasted behind his walls. He sent good men to wage war on his behalf, to die in far off lands when they should have been home building better lives for themselves and their families. He allowed his chosen men to terrorize the women and children and old men living in the towns still. Things had been bad.

So yes, let Price have the crown, and the castle, and the responsibility and anything he likes. What difference does it make to you now?

What matters now is the sun on your face, and the gentle sound of birdsong around you, and the dull bite of the occasional stone through the soft leather soles of your shoes. The air smells sweet and green, although there’s a slight prickle at the back of your nose that tells you that there will be rain tonight, or tomorrow morning at the latest. There’s nothing to worry about aside from whether or not the children in town will like the end of the book you have tucked into your basket.

You see a young man sleeping by the side of the road on your way into town, his horse tied to a long halter while he lounges beneath a tree. As you pass by, a bird flying too close startles the horse, and it pulls up the peg it’s tied to, and bolts. The young man doesn’t stir, so you dash after the horse without a thought, dropping your basket so you have both hands free to seize the halter.

You try to dig in your heels to stop the big, white-stockinged horse, but it half-drags you a little ways down the road before finally stopping, swinging it’s head around to look at you as though you’ve personally offended it. “Come on,” you tell it, exasperated. “You don’t belong out here.”

Arms wrap around you from behind, hands much larger than yours close over your wrists. “You’re awfully pretty for a horse thief,” a voice says in your ear.

“I’m not a horse thief!” you protest. “I was trying to help!” The horse snorts, as though it intends to tattle on you for something that you most certainly were not doing.

“And you didn’t think to wake me up?” The man behind you lets go of one of your wrists and spins you around, the movement smooth and graceful, like you’re two dancers at a ball, rather than two strangers meeting along a country road. But when you look up, you find the all too familiar face of one of Price’s knights.

“Sir Garrick!” you gasp.

“Princess,” he says, smiling. He’s far too handsome, his smile bright, teeth a little bit too sharp. “How very nice to see you. I thought for sure you’d have left the kingdom by now.”

“No! Oh no.” You push against his chest uselessly. He’s strong, so much stronger than you. Despair claws at your ribs. Your nightmare-come-true may be wrapped in a pretty, familiar face, but you have no desire to return to the capital. “Please let me go. I promise I don’t want the kingdom. Price can have it— You can have it. I just want to be left alone, I swear, I’ll never—”

“Hush, sweetpea.” He tucks a few of your thin braids behind your ear, fingertips grazing down your neck. “I have to bring you in. But you can make your case to Price. Maybe he’ll let you come back, alright? Don’t fret. He’s always been reasonable.”

You’re not certain how to get out of this. Sir Garrick has kind eyes, but his grip is like steel. He lifts you up easily and sets you on his horse before you so much as think of protesting or making a feeble attempt to fight him off.

“We’re not far from the capital. We can make it there before dark,” he continues, voice low and reassuring, as though you’re worried about the travel, and not the destination.

“But— What about my aunt? I should let her know where I’ve gone.”

“We’ll send word. Don’t you worry, your majesty.”

“No, no, don’t call me that. That’s for kings and queens, and I’m neither.” I’m no one, you want to shout.

He's amused by that, amused by you, as if you're just being a silly little girl. "I suppose we'll settle on sweetpea for now." He holds his palm out and three little white birds materialize and fly off in different directions, spectral and iridescent as soap bubbles. And then he swings into the seat behind you and pulls you most of the way into his lap, wraps strong arms around your waist, and nudges his mount into a walk.

“So,” Sir Garrick says conversationally, his voice low, lips far too close to your ear. It’s overly familiar, but you’re already practically sitting in the man’s lap. “What have you been doing out here all these years?”

“Um. Gardening. Embroidery. Taking care of my chickens. Lessons, for some of the children that live nearby. Just letters and arithmetic. I’ve been thinking about organizing a proper schoolhouse.” You can feel your nerves bubbling up as you babble, thoughts coming to you disorganized and stilted. “I never realized how few people can read. It seems a shame. I do a few hours of reading around town, help out at the church. I keep busy. I haven’t any real purpose, so I have to go out of my way to make one.” You sigh, thinking of how you had left things at a particularly gripping point in a story you’d been reading to the town children. They’ll be disappointed if they never hear the end of it, but you still have hope that Price will decide you’ve become something of a country bumpkin with no place in the court, and let you go back home soon. “How have you fared? Is your family well?”

“Quite well. My sisters will be glad to see you again. They always thought you were sweet. Rosie’s opened her own dress shop in the city, and Camellia has five children now. I think Kylie and Jorah were just two or three last you saw them. My mother lives with Cam to help out.” Sir Garrick’s mother and sister used to work at the palace, and he had been apprenticed to the court wizard before he specialized in battle magic and became a knight. You hadn’t been friends, exactly— You’re not sure you ever really had friends— but he’d always been nice enough, when your paths crossed.

“And what of you?” you prompt gently. “Have you found yourself a wife?”

He laughs lightly. “I’m working on it. I’ve a girl in mind, but I think she’ll take some convincing.”

“Oh I doubt that, Sir. You’re perfectly unobjectionable.”

“High praise indeed, princess.”

The two of you chat idly as you travel, mostly about nothing, but it’s pleasant enough. Sir Garrick— Kyle, he insists you call him— is far more charming than you remember, and he makes you laugh so much that you’re certain that you’d simply fall right off the horse if he wasn’t holding onto you so securely. He’s the very picture of a romantic hero, all chivalry and smiles, handsome in the dappled light under the canopy of trees as the road carries you from farmland to forest. You come to a bridge, and he dismounts so his horse can drink, and lifts you down so you can stretch out stiff muscles. His touch lingers, strong hands resting on your hips for a few beats longer than would be appropriate, but you don’t really mind.

You part from his company so you can relieve yourself a little ways into the trees, glad he’s not concerned about you making a run for it. His assurances that Price can be reasoned into letting you go home once you’ve spoken to him is enough to make you cooperative. You’re certain that he’ll take one look at you now and send you right back home. You’ve never had any luck with the young men in town, and if that’s any indication, you’ll be back to your little bedroom in Kate’s house before the week is up.

You fix your clothes and walk back to the road, humming lightly under your breath. Kyle is speaking to a flat glowing disc that hums with energy, floating above his palm. He gives you a smile and a nod and retreats to the tree line while he finishes his conversation. You catch a glimpse of a face on the disc as he turns, searing blue eyes meeting yours for a moment. Price, certainly. You recognize those eyes.

Kyle’s gaze slips over to you again as you kneel by the creek, one arm keeping your skirt out of the water while you trail the other hand through the water idly, the cool stream a pleasant offset to the heat of the afternoon. If you were alone, you would consider stripping down and going for a swim, but as nice as Kyle is, he’s still a man, and not one you know particularly well anymore, if you ever did.

When you look over again, he’s tucking the crystal disc into the front of his tunic, and a wolf is behind him, stalking out of the woods, low to the ground and ready to pounce. “Kyle!” you shout, pointing behind him. He turns quickly, a spell glittering on his fingertips, but the wolf pounces before he can cast it, both crashing into the packed earth along the side of the road.

You rush over, although halfway there you wonder what help you expect to be, and an arm snatches you around the middle, hauling you back. You’re beginning to get a bit annoyed at how much you’ve been manhandled today, and you start kicking as you’re lifted off your feet. “Let me go!”

“Easy, sweet girl. Let the lads say hello,” a deep voice says behind you, the sound rumbling through you like a cat’s purr. “No danger ‘ere.”

You look at Kyle and the wolf again. Only there isn’t a wolf anymore, just a large, naked man laying on top of Kyle, kissing him ardently and more than a little messily. The sound of it makes your cheeks burn. “Oh.”

The man who was a wolf stands up, and you look away, too flustered by the sight of so much bare skin to do anything else. The big man puts you down and turns you to face him, putting your back to the werewolf. “Johnny, put some clothes on before you say ‘ello. We know you were raised by savages, but you don’t need to act like it,” he says firmly, his heavy hands on your shoulders.

You stare at the skull embroidered on the black tunic in front of you, recognizing the emblem, and then the black fencers mask tied around the man’s face, obscuring even the shape of his features. You see a glint of light when he drops his chin to look at you though, gleaming eyes that look at you inscrutably. You know him, by name and reputation and deep, rumbling voice, if not by his face. No one knows him by his face, but he was as highly ranked a knight as Price was, one of your father’s personal guard before the war. Often tasked as your guardian, a solemn but comforting presence always. “Hello, Ghost,” you say, cheeks burning all the hotter. “Been a while.”

“Not as long as you might think,” he says. You can almost hear the smile in his voice. “Been keepin’ an eye on you.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. “For how long?”

“Knew where you were this whole time. Wun’t about to let you disappear, princess.” He tucks you against his side, keeping an arm around your shoulders protectively. “Johnny. Come meet our girl. Best behaviour.”

Johnny the werewolf grins at you as he walks up, still adjusting the drape of the tartan fabric around his hips, broad chest bare and dusted with hair, swirling blue tattoos printed on his scarred skin. His hair is shaved on the sides, a stripe of it left long in the center. “Nice ta finally meet ya, princess. Officially, anyway. We’ve bumped intae each other once or twice, but I was told no’ ta approach unless ye approached first, aye? Shame ye never did.” His smile is crooked, his too-bright blue eyes intent on yours. “Think we’ll get along.”

“The whole time?” you ask, skipping back a few paces in the conversation, glancing up at Ghost. “But Kyle said—”

“Sorry, sweetpea,” Kyle says airily. “I lied.”

“Typical tricksy wizard shite. But dinnae ye worry none, we’ll keep him honest for ye.” Johnny grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, and then to the inside of your palm. His rough fingertips push your sleeve back, and he kisses the inside of your wrist too. When you squeak, he gives you a heated look and does it again, teeth grazing sensitive skin as he opens his mouth and licks a stripe across your pulse.

You’re warm from the tips of your ears to your chest, your breath catching on ragged nerves. You tug your hand out of his grip and cradle it with your other, like you’ve been burned by his brash touch.

“Johnny,” Ghost says, exasperated. “S’that what you call best behaviour?”

“She likes it, sir.”

“I most certainly do not!” you protest.

“Oh, aye ye do. Werewolf, ye ken. Can smell ye.” Johnny taps the side of his nose and winks at you. “Ye dinnae need ta be embarrassed, sweetpea. Ye can hardly blame yerself, faced with all this.” He gestures to his admittedly impressive physique, the broad and lean shape of near-perfect manhood on immodest display.

“Let’s move.” Kyle’s hand brushes your elbow. “You can ride with me again.”

Ghost shakes his head and turns, pulling you with him. “No. Come meet Nox.” He whistles, and a huge black shape hurtles down from the sky, glossy black wings snapping open just before the creature hit the ground, flapping a few times so that it lands lightly on four mismatched limbs, stirring up dust leaves. You shrink back against Ghost’s side, eyes wide. A gryphon.

The massive beast has a raven’s head and wings, and shiny black fur on it’s haunches. The catlike tail, with it’s tuft of feathers at the end, twitches back and forth as the bird head tilts to regard you, dark, slit-pupil eyes watching you with interest.

You look up at Ghost for reassurance, and he nods. “Go on. Offer ‘er your ‘and. She won’t bite. Hey, girl?” he scratches the gryphon behind the ear, and it opens it’s mouth to make a vibrating, keening sound that makes Kyle’s horse snort nervously. “That’s right, sweetpea’s a friend.”

You offer your outstretched hand to the giant creature, bolstered by Ghost’s calm, and it sticks it’s beak under your palm, making the same keening sound again. The last of your apprehension melts away, and you step closer, smiling. “Aren’t you a pretty girl?” You scratch the spot where her beak meets her feathers, and her eyes close for a moment.

Johnny reaches for the Nox’s side, and she whips her head around and hisses at him, her throat feathers fluffing up defensively. “Och, yer no’ goan ta git my fingers, ye wee beastie. Thought ye was gettin’ soft.”

“Away, Johnny. Let the girls get to know each other.” Ghost stands behind you and guides your hands to points just behind Nox’s jaw. The gryphon croaks and leans her head on your shoulder, nudging Ghost with her beak.

“Not so scary,” you coo, pressing your face into the soft cloud of feathers. “What a sweet girl.”

“How about it, Nox? Can she ‘op up?” Ghost asks. The gryphon croaks again and backs away enough to lean her front half down. Ghost picks you up and sets you on her back, on a flat saddle that sits right behind the joint of her massive wings, which fold up over your legs like she’s holding you steady. He pats Nox on the neck and starts walking, and she follows, padding beside him, sticking her beak between the joints of his leather armor playfully whenever he takes his hand off her.

You grab the edge of the saddle, mindful of Nox’s feathers, and it takes a moment to adjust to her movement. It’s not the side to side sway of a horse, but she’s steady, like she’s trying her best not to spill an inexperienced rider. Thoughtful of her.

Behind you, Kyle scrambles up onto his horse, and Johnny hustles to catch up, positioning himself on Ghost’s other side, giving Nox a wider berth.

“Thought we weren’t supposed ta tell her we were watchin’,” Johnny said. “Price said—”

“She ought to know. I wun’t too ‘appy about it in the first place, but a deal’s a deal.”

“A deal with who?” you ask.

“I’ll let Price tell you that much, sweetpea. But if it were up to me I’d’ve dragged you back home years ago.”

You shake your head tiredly. “Home is where I was. And I’m going back as soon as this business with Price is done. I don’t know what he wants, but I’m sure we can work something out. Kyle said he’s reasonable.”

“Oh, did ‘e?” Ghost asks, amusement colouring his deep voice. “S’pose that’s ‘ow ‘e had you comin’ along purrin’ like a kitten, hm?”

The blood drains from your face as you turn to look at Kyle, but he doesn’t look guilty, or like he’d been lying to you. “Well, again, I’m perfectly happy to cooperate. There’s no reason why he wouldn’t let me go when he gets what he wants, is there?”

Johnny chuckles, exchanging a look with Ghost that’s inscrutable. “Aye, ye’ve got a point. I’m sure ye’ll have no trouble dealin’ with the old man. Born diplomat, aren’t ye?”

Your stomach twists with nerves. It’s been many years since you’ve seen John Price. You don’t know him as well as you know Ghost. You’d always found the big, faceless man strangely comforting, easy to talk at, if not to, especially when you were still young and silly. But John Price, when he fixed you with those fathomless dark blue eyes, had always rendered you speechless, turned your usually clever tongue to lead. He was a knight captain then, a natural leader of men, a hero. Not someone that your father wanted you to get close to. It’s easy for you to see why now, with your father dead in the ground and Price wearing the crown, but you were glad for any excuse to stay away.

You wish you could ask Nox to fly away with you on her back, maybe home, but maybe somewhere else entirely, where no one knows you, where you can start again without the weight of the crown hanging heavy over your head, an executioner’s ax waiting to fall.

***

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4

#Fantasy AU #cod mw fanfiction #x reader #x fem Reader #141 x reader #Heavy Weighs the Crown #Cave Writing #This is mostly gonna be fun and light-hearted I just really enjoy fantasy and I've been watching a lot of DnD content lately #“He's always been reasonable” Kyle lies thinking fondly of his boss - the least reasonable man in the realm #Let me know if you need any content warnings in here but I feel this one's pretty light

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Allison Pearson

23 March 2024

OH, NO. No. A sense that something was not right, that our wonderful Princess was perhaps in more trouble than we’d been told, was confirmed at 6pm on Friday with an unprecedented TV address that dealt a blow to the nation’s solar plexus.

Some will simply have been stunned by the news, hardly able to comprehend it (what, cancer twice in the Royal family within two months? But she’s so young).

Others will have been in tears, as I was, watching our Princess of Wales, parchment-pale, clearly fragile yet valiantly composing herself to record a message in that crystal-clear voice, reassuring us that, although it had been “an incredibly tough couple of months for our entire family,” she would be OK, given enough time, space and privacy.

One friend who heard it on the car radio pulled over to the side of the road and sobbed. “I am just so upset,” she texted.

Another confessed she was relieved that the Waleses hadn’t separated – one of the wilder rumours that had been flying around since the Princess of Wales was pictured in that photoshopped, too-smiley Mother’s Day picture without her wedding rings.

“For the backbone of Britain, we need those two to be together and happily married,” said my friend. So true.

William ’n’ Kate, Kate ’n’ William, a couple for almost the whole of their adult lives, one unimaginable without the other.

Our monarchy is assured as long as there is them (the Waleses will celebrate their thirteenth wedding anniversary on 29th April, six days after little Louis turns six).

Suddenly, with this announcement, we are reminded that they are only human too, vulnerable at times, and Britain is badly shaken.

As she finished her statement, the ramifications started to sink in. Prince William has to deal with a father and a wife with cancer at the same time.

There are haunting echoes of Diana, too, another beloved princess whose personal challenges played out so publicly.

Poor William must feel like there are snipers in the garden taking aim at his family.

You could tell the children were uppermost in her mind, just as they are for any parent who is told they have cancer.

George, Charlotte and Louis, she spoke their names aloud, her darlings. You know, I think they were the real reason she steeled herself to do it.

To sit there on that wooden bench with spring bursting out behind her. Daffodils on a grassy bank, trees in blossom – a cruelly lovely backdrop for such sad tidings.

How simply dressed she was in a matelot jumper and jeans, stripped of finery and clothed, instead, in a becoming humility, her beauty thrown into sharp relief by the strain on her face.

A 42-year-old who is uniquely privileged yet now confronts every woman’s frightening brush with mortality.

Her statement was carefully timed to coincide with the start of the school Easter holidays so the children could be safe at home and wouldn’t have to endure whispers in class about Mummy’s illness.

(Sparing them the agonies of embarrassment young William and Harry suffered at boarding school when Charles and Diana were getting divorced.)

It’s not easy to protect your children when their grandfather is the King and their father his heir.

The Prince and Princess of Wales have always been concerned to make things as normal, as Middleton, as possible, for their young family; this is their toughest test yet.

Was there more than a hint of rebuke in the Princess’s carefully measured words for a media that really has shown neither patience nor “understanding” since she disappeared from public view to have abdominal surgery?

She could be forgiven for being furious. (Believe me, many of us are furious on her behalf.)

“William and I have been doing everything we can to process and manage this privately for the sake of our young family,” she said pointedly.

“As you can imagine, this has taken time. It has taken me time to recover from major surgery in order to start my treatment.

But, most importantly, it has taken us time to explain everything to George, Charlotte and Louis in a way that is appropriate for them, and to reassure them that I am going to be OK.”

“Back off,” she was saying in the politest possible way, “leave me and my kids alone.”

Of course, she needed time to come to terms with the shattering blow of having a life-threatening illness and three children under 10. Every mother’s nightmare.

But time is one thing the vultures and conspiracy theorists were not prepared to give her.

In the vacuum Kensington Palace foolishly allowed to develop, the vilest rumours flourished.

Had she undergone cosmetic surgery? Wasn’t she just slacking? Why wasn’t William taking up more duties to relieve his sick father?

Had Catherine left William? Was it a lookalike pictured with William at a Windsor farm shop?

The gossip went global, causing universal hysteria.

Imagine feeling as sick and scared as the Princess must have done, yet being under pressure to show yourself in order to disprove the lies and appease the baying online mob. It’s barbaric.

I hope those who made such disgusting comments are burning with shame today now that we know the reason she hid away.

It wasn’t only ghouls with a conscience bypass who were trying to fill the gaps in the story.

Theories also came from people who adore the Royal family and were deeply worried for the absent Princess. We love and respect her so much.

Incredibly, in a poll earlier this month, the recuperating Princess still managed to emerge as the most popular royal, narrowly ahead of her husband.

Despite the slurry of accusations – not least the appalling claim in an early draft of a book by Omid Scobie (media snitch), that she was one of the two alleged “royal racists” who speculated on the baby’s likely skin colour – their figures are broadly unchanged since a previous poll in 2023.

Never Put a Foot Wrong is said so often it’s practically the definition of her.

Turns out there may be stresses and strains to appearing always in control, to aiming for perfection, that can eat away at a sensitive person not born to be royal.

Catherine says her job brings her joy; it must also have caused worry (such remorseless spotlight scrutiny).

We should reflect on that, I think. On what it’s reasonable to expect from one human being who expects so much of herself.

How the Princess came to win such a large place in British people’s hearts is better than any fairy tale.

Bullied at school, the quiet, sporty brunette was famous for her record-breaking high jump and tenacious character.

She had blossomed by the time she met William in their first term at St Andrew’s.

At 29, when they finally exchanged vows in Westminster Abbey, she was the first royal bride to have a university degree; the first to have lived with her husband before marriage; the first to be raised in a house that had a street number instead of a fancy name and a moat with swans.

As second in line to the throne, William was expected to pick his princess from a select group of well-bred young fillies.

Hot favourites included Davina Duckworth-Chad and one Isabella Amaryllis Charlotte Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe.

Enough hyphens to make plain Catherine Middleton of Bucklebury, Berkshire, feel a little inadequate, you might think.

Except that, when a friend at university told Catherine how lucky she was to be going out with Prince William, a smiling Catherine replied: “He’s lucky to have me.”

The years have proved her right, haven’t they?

The death of Diana left William a damaged, stubborn and angry young man, acutely aware he was a prisoner of fate and railing at the media who pursued his mother.

Catherine has calmed him, rebuilding trust while providing the regular family life he had never known.

She has grown brilliantly into the role and the Waleses are a formidable team, lighting up any event they enter.

Now, it is his turn to soothe and calm her, although he must be deeply worried.

“Having William by my side is a great source of comfort and reassurance too, as is the love, support and kindness that has been shown by so many of you. It means so much to us both,” she said.

The King was right to salute his daughter-in-law for her courage. Imagine what it takes to first tell your small children you have cancer and then tell the whole world.

She did it so naturally, so sweetly, with such great empathy for others with that cruel disease that no one could possibly guess what it cost her. But it cost her.

She has told George, Charlotte and Louis that Mummy is well, and getting better, but the only way she will make a full recovery is if she’s left alone as she completes her treatment.

Will the vultures listen? Will they give her the time she needs or go back pecking for more?

Millions of us are praying for the return to health of our wonderful Princess of Wales. She has all our support and love.

A Britain without her is unthinkable, unbearable. Take your time, Princess, take your time.

💙🌹💙

#Princess of Wales #Catherine Princess of Wales #Catherine Middleton #Kate Middleton #British Royal Family #cancer #chemotherapy

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

My perspective on "kategate" is rooted in personal & professional (American) experiences. Perhaps this post will help someone.

My Charles- Catherine theory:

Charles' Cancer diagnosis was not entirely unexpected

BRF is hoping for the best AND preparing for the worst

In My imagination: Before the Coronation, Wills & Kate revisited their checklist of major things to do before Wills becomes king: Kate's surgery was on that list. Charles feeling "unwell" sped up the timing of what may have been Catherine's "future" surgery.

A planned (disruptive) medical event scheduled to fit the best time in the life of a princess who is the future queen consort & mother of his heir.

What the world knew:

BRF Major Health Updates

PROSTATE Procedure -king

Benign ABDOMINAL surgery -wife of king's heir (princess)

Results

Undisclosed location of malignancy-king

Successful surgery. Medical leave of absence (at minimum) through Easter-princess

Protocols

Weekly (undisclosed) "treatments" & crowd control -king

Discharged home to Windsor to continue recovery-princess

Prognosis

Caught early (intentional slip via Rishi)-KC

Making good progress-Princess

Princess well enough to travel to her Amner home w/husband & kids for school break

What the Media Heard

What the Media Did...

Tumblr to the Media: stop feeding the sewer squad!

I've personally experienced a medical talk: "at some point in your life, you should PLAN x (a very disruptive) operation"

"We advise you to make PLANS to undergo x surgery, preferably before the age of your mother's x. Pick the best time for your busy schedule and lifestyle as it will be a major disruption. It's prophylactic so there's no rush and of course this is a recommendation, but studies show that it will prevent you from developing x or at minimum, significantly decrease the probability of you ever developing x, a life threatening malignancy. Sorry, we cannot tell you when, but just PLAN to do it when it fits your (busy) lifestyle & schedule."

Me during "the talk"

Me listening to 2nd 3rd 4th opinions

Sometimes our PLANS get interrupted

"In the end, everything will be okay. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

How did the British media vultures ignore "Keep Calm and Carry On"

Many members of this family have been treated for malignancies and other life threatening illnesses and yet they have remained tight lipped.

Perhaps King Charles had a recurrence or even developed a malignancy secondary to previous adjuvant treatments. No one needs to know the location of his tumor.

Perhaps Catherine's procedure was not prophylactic. She could have been uncomfortable for a very long time. No one needs to know Catherine's diagnosis.

I do want them to be well & become humble servants of Christ Jesus, like Queen Elizabeth.

Open to hearing corrections & thoughts.

#get well soon #keep calm and carry on #brf #king charles cancer #king charles #prince and princess of wales #kate #catherine the princess of wales

[ladykinrannoch]

Prince William, Kate Middleton set strict rule for Prince Harry’s visit

Prince Harry gets snubbed by Prince William, Kate Middleton ahead of UK visit

By Web Desk

Prince Harry is reportedly set to travel to UK in May, first time after Kate Middleton publicly disclosed her cancer diagnosis.

Prince William and Kate, who seemingly received an olive branch from Harry, are setting some strict rules before Harry’s arrival in the UK, a close pal of the Waleses revealed to The Daily Beast.

Harry and wife Meghan Markle issued a statement of support for the Princess of Wales after she shared a video message revealing her health crisis in late March.

While William and Kate did not respond to the public message, many royal experts deemed it might be a way to thaw the relations between them.

However, the friend of William and Kate suggested otherwise.

“Catherine and William have been very clear they want peace and quiet for them and the kids. A visit from Harry, with all the drama that would bring, would be the opposite of that,” the pal shared.

Another friend of the couple that they are no longer interested in reconciling as they have gotten used to being away from the Duke and Duchess of Sussex.

“They have come to terms with the estrangement from Harry, and are content to let sleeping dogs lie.”

However, it appears that William and Kate may not have to deal with Prince Harry after all since he is reconsidering his plans.

The youngest son of King Charles was issued warning by his team over security risks after details of his travels were laid bare, reported Express.co.uk.

He is NOT coming. Mark my words. IG is dropping him, this is getting ahead of the narrative. Think I will do a Saturday reading on IG plans and whether H is going to appear or not.

[huramuna]

wine red, tears gold - chapter 6.

king aegon II x baratheon ofc

previous chapter | next

a bit of a slower chapter. there should be about 2 more after this & we are at the end (':

word count: 2.7k

please follow & turn on notifs for @huramuna-fics for my fic postings

content: smut, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence, angst, fluff, arranged marriage, touch-staved aegon, aegon isn't a r*pist in this au but he is still a bad person and has his vices, ofc and aegon need to go to therapy together, justice for jaehaera, awkward sex, kind of a slow burn, infidelity, child loss, vomiting

cloudbursting - kate bush • playdate - melanie martinez

Alicent had thought she saw the last of death for a while. She had seen her grandson killed before her very eyes, seen her daughter’s skewered body upon the ground, a grisly tale of her son skewered through his eye, her other son burnt and suffocated. 

She had seen enough death for a lifetime and then some. 

When she had been awoken in the wee hours of the morn, it was still dark outside. Her handmaiden roused her from sleep with a panicked plea— the queen was in her labors. 

Labors? Lyanna wasn’t pregnant, was she? Surely Alicent would’ve noticed, as they spent every morning together since the girl’s arrival over half a year ago. 

She slipped on a housecoat and was escorted to the maester’s offices, where the robed man swept her aside immediately. 

“What is going on? Her grace cannot be pregnant, surely?” Alicent questioned, eyes narrowed. She didn’t dare look over at the pale figure in the cot, knowing it to be Lyanna. She wasn’t ready yet to see such pain once more. 

“The Queen is… was… roughly five moons along,” he explained softly, “Her chamber maids found her semi-conscious in a pool of her own blood, the room a mess— she… is fighting, surely. But the babe won’t be viable.” 

Alicent blinked profusely, searching the healer’s face for any sign of a farce. “You say she was pregnant?” 

“A matter of speaking, your grace. She is… laboring as we speak. The babe is stuck, however— at an odd angle.” 

“… what does that mean for Lyanna?” she asked, leaning forward. Alicent knew what it meant, of course— death was in the room with them, waiting. 

The maester gave the queen mother a hard look and shook his head. “Keep her in your prayers. The King… should be notified.” 

— 

Alicent sat by Lyanna’s bed, hand in bloody hand with her. The poor girl’s beautiful face was so pale, the blue veins in her half-drawn eyelids were visible. 

The labors weren’t much of a ruckus as they usually would be— Lyanna was severely numbed by milk of the poppy, and the maesters pulled out the babe. Alicent caught sight of it— its skin was gray and scaly, with a ridged tail and little budding horns, as well as a pair of perfectly miniature wings. It didn’t breathe, nor cry. 

“A son, your grace,” the maester announced solemnly.

The sight made Alicent want to vomit, but she swallowed it back, focusing on Lyanna. “You did so well, my love,” she cooed, dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth, “You did so well.” 

“See… may I… see the… the babe?” Lyanna asked, her voice so quiet that only Alicent could hear. 

Alicent’s heart clenched, brow furrowed. “Not yet, sweetling. They’re wiping him off now. Do you have a name in mind for him?” 

“Aeron,” Lyanna breathed, “For… Aemond… and Daeron…” 

A tear rolled down Alicent’s face as she leaned close to Lyanna, pressing their foreheads together. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she whispered, “My sweet, sweet girl. You’re the purest of us all, my love.” she cried fully now, eyes closed. She cared so deeply for the Queen, as if she were her own, or mayhaps more, and seeing the girl in pain agonized Alicent. 

Alicent Hightower wept for Lyanna, Aemond, Daeron, and Aeron. 

— 

Aegon did not arrive until hours later, after he’d been found. He bursted into the room like an ignited dragon. “Where’s my wife? My son?” he demanded. Otto followed behind him. 

Alicent stood up, her white nightgown stained in a bit of blood. She stared at her son, eyes narrowed with a fury she hadn’t felt in so long. “Out, Aegon— she’s asleep, finally, out, out!” she hissed, turning the King around and shoving him out of the chamber, closing the door behind them. 

SMACK.

Alicent laid a firm slap across Aegon’s face. “What took you so long?! Your wife was bleeding out, laboring your babe into the world much too early! And I saw the marks on her— she isn’t one of your whores, Aegon! What in the Gods’ names are you doing to her?” 

Aegon’s eyes immediately watered and he was the very image of a pathetic little puppy. He sniffed. “I didn’t— ‘twas part of our game, mother, I swear!” he simpered. “I never meant it… in a bad way.”

“Your game? Your game? Marriage isn’t a game, Aegon. Sex isn’t a game. You’re the only one she’s ever laid with and that is how you treat her?” Alicent was beyond fuming, not only for her good-daughter, but something within herself that has been long locked away. “Like some toy? She doesn’t know that it’s supposed to be gentle and loving— she must think that it’s normal to be treated in such a way.” 

The king shifted uneasily back and forth, looking down at his feet. 

“You never learn, do you? You’re just like your father.” she finally spat, eye to eye with her son. Her brown eyes were eclipsed with rage, lip curled before she descended back into the room to sit by Lyanna once more. 

Aegon didn’t follow— but he didn’t leave the Keep, either. Later that eve, the outside of his chambers was littered with discarded wine bottles, broken glass strewn about. 

— 

It was a week before Lyanna finally came back to herself— she was mostly coherent, eyes flitting about the room. A chair, now empty, was set next to her cot. 

There was another chair on the other side of the bed, which was filled. A tiny blonde head bobbed up and down behind a book. 

Jaehaera. 

She was reading, outloud, from a children’s book, legs kicking softly as she read. “It’s said that beyond the wall… there are dragons made of ice. They do not breathe fire, but blow frost from their gullets. Giants with feet as large as…” she paused, squinting, “wheelhouses, are said to ride the ice dragons to battle.” 

“Do you believe that, princess?” Lyanna murmured, her voice hoarse from disuse. “Ice dragons and giants?” 

Jaehaera blinked, her eyes going wide as she realized that her audience was awake. She ducked behind the book, crossing and uncrossing her legs. 

Lyanna hadn’t spent much time with Jaehaera, to be truthful. She didn’t wish to force herself upon the melancholic girl and wished for her to take her time to open up. The young princess had attended breakfast with Lyanna and Alicent a number of times, but usually didn’t speak, unless whispering something to Alicent. 

Jaehaera peeked over the book, her violet eyes looking at Lyanna cautiously. “… yes. I believe in ice dragons. Grandmother says…” she giggled softly, pulling the book down further to reveal a small smile, “that they aren’t real n’ the book is made up. But I know the truth.” 

“And what is the truth? You must tell,” Lyanna hummed, shifting herself in the cot so she was facing Jaehaera, giving the young girl her full attention. “I must know.” 

“They’re real n’ just sleeping beneath the snow, and they lay their eggs in the giant wall in the North. But… they take two… hundred years to hatch!” 

“Two hundred years? That’s quite a long time to wait for a baby dragon.” 

“Yup. I’m patient, though. Grandmother says it's my best… quar-lity.” 

“Quality, sweetling.” 

“Qual-ity.” Jaehaera repeated. 

Lyanna gave a reassuring smile. “You look quite deep into the book— how long have you been reading for?” 

“I came with grandmother… five days ago n’ started reading this to you… four days ago. I thought it might be nice to listen, even if you were sleeping…” she nods to herself, slowly coming out of her shell. “Sometimes, when I sleep, I hear stuff around me and it enters my dreams.” 

“Thank you for reading to me, sweet girl. I thought I recalled hearing about ice dragons in my dreams,” Lyanna chuckled. “Will you keep reading to me? Even if I’m not asleep?” 

Jaehaera looked down at the book, swinging her legs again. Her cheeks puffed slightly and she looked a bit bashful. “Uhmmm… maybe. Did… you still want to hear it?” she peered at the queen, head tilted. “… I don’t get to do much with friends anymore… they’ve all gone. Grandmother likes my reading but… sometimes she starts crying n’ I have to stop. Father is… too busy.” 

The queen felt her heart clench. Out of all of the victims of the Dance— Jaehaera, in her mind, had suffered the most. She lost nearly everyone. “Of course, I’d love to hear you read more. I’m quite interested in what else is beyond the wall, and I simply won’t believe what anyone else has to say about it, it must be you, dear princess.” 

The little princess gave a little giggle before she continued to read. 

—

The queen and the princess were inseparable for the next moon– as they had found some sort of comfort in one another. Lyanna would stop to Jaehaera’s chambers and escort the young girl to Alicent where all three of them broke their fast together.

It was certainly an odd feeling for Lyanna, as she never had been really good with children, so to speak. But after Aeron, she felt something was lost from within her. She only remembered glimpses of her son before they took him away. The sight of him, so tiny and riddled with golden and red scales like a little lizard, with a tail and leathery wings. The sight of him had sickened a few of the attending maids, causing them to vomit and clutch their proverbial pearls. 

She thought him a beautiful little boy and wished to know if he had his father’s violet eyes, or her brown. 

In her dreams, he had a curly mop of white blonde hair and brown eyes with flecks of violet, like wisteria petals upon a pond, shaded by a tree. He would speak to her in hushed tones, holding and tugging on her hand, babbling all sorts of nonsense like children do. She never saw beyond the confines of the small garden they would be in, the outskirts of her vision creeping in lilting black and hazy purple. 

But, nevertheless, it was an oasis, bright and sprightly like the first warmth of spring’s sun, warming their skin as Lyanna held Aeron to her hip, peppering him with kisses and love, while they watched ducks swim around in the petal speckled water. Dipping their toes into the chilled pool, a figure would approach. Another crop of blonde hair, somehow so familiar to Lyanna. The shape and gait of the shadow would liken itself to Aegon, but Lyanna could never see his face. He was dressed in black and green, with the crown of the Conqueror upon his brow, the indent of a smile perked upon his silhouette as he sat beside them. 

Aeron would be between them, speaking a language that Lyanna didn’t understand, but it sounded similar to High Valyrian. Aegon’s shadow would converse back, but his voice sounded so far away and disjointed, like a distant memory. The specter of the king would take off his crown, and hang it upon Aeron’s curled mop, flashing a toothy white smile and singing praises. A smile Lyanna longed to see. 

But it wasn’t real.

None of it was.

Aeron would never grow to be that sprightly little boy, and Aegon… the version that she’d concocted in her head of him didn’t exist. 

It likely never would.

These dreams, ever repeating ever since she lost Aeron, would make her wake in a cold sweat, already crying, her nightgown clinging to her like a second skin, sticky and itching. She would get up and pace, trying her best not to wake Jaehaera, who had snuck into her rooms more than once when she had a nightmare, a frequent plague for the young princess.

Some might consider Lyanna’s dreams something of joy– but they seemed like a nightmare to her, an illusion that made her feel like she was going mad. It felt so real, that when she awoke, she could feel her fingers grazing through Aeron’s curls, the soft smell of him was alive and well in her room. Until a gust of wind would dissipate it. 

And she would be alone with her thoughts, her longings and her dreams once again. She would crawl back into bed and wrap her arms around Jaehaera.

One eve, late into the night, Lyanna felt the indent of weight upon her bed. She didn’t open her eyes, as she was still flitting between consciousness and sleep– but her hand wandered over, expecting to feel Jaehaera. “... bad dreams, Haera?” she mumbled, her hand searching for the little princess’ own.

“... ‘tis not Jaehaera.” a voice murmured. Aegon.

Lyanna’s eyes snapped open, turning towards her husband, whom she hadn’t spoken to or really seen since Aeron’s passing. “Aegon?”

“... yes.” he whispered. He sounded small, like his vocal chords were stuck in a shell, echoing and far-flung from his usual cocksure smugness. 

“Are you… alright?” she asked then. She should be angry, she really should– but she had just had her dream again, where he had been so alive, so lovely and right that she couldn’t be mad at him in the moment. Her mind was still swimming with the illusion she’d created of him.

“No,” he breathed, shifting closer to her slightly. “Something is wrong with me.”

“Are you ill? Shall… I get up and call a maester?”

“No–” he pressed, his hand reaching out to grasp Lyanna’s wrist. It wasn’t harsh or forceful, but urgent, like a plea. “Stay. I… I need to explain myself.”

Her muscles tensed for a moment as she felt his hand upon her. It was warm and slightly calloused, but familiar nonetheless. “... okay.”

“I haven’t… picked up a bottle in near a moon, nor… touched a whore. I-I’ve been good,” Aegon whimpered. “I’m so sorry, Lyanna. For everything– Gods, I’m a fucking monster. I-I don’t know why I’ve done the things I did or said. It’s eating me from the inside like a sickness,” he took a shaky breath, sniffling all the while. He was crying. “I-I… I wanted to push you away. The moment I saw you with your… big brown eyes, so close to tears– I felt sorry for you, to be paired with me. You were good and pure and innocent– you didn’t deserve any of this– if I hadn’t been such a fucking coward, you… might still be carrying our son.” 

Lyanna didn’t say anything, but her breath hitched slightly at his words. They were clear and concise– tear laden and full of sorrow but it was the most sober she’d ever seen him, the most lucid.

“I can’t feel that it's my fault. Because I was too weak to say no to them, to put my foot down and refuse. I basically killed them all,” he continued. “I’m just a Godsdamned coward and I should be put down like a dog for what I’ve done, for what I allowed to happen– my entire family save for three people who don’t see me as anything more than a disappointment are all dead, Lyanna– I could’ve… I should’ve… I should’ve kicked and fought against it, told them to fucking stick the crown where the sun doesn’t shine. What kind of brother usurps his sister’s throne? What… why did I let that happen?” his hand was shaking against her wrist now, his voice breaking into small blubbers. “I’m a fucking Kinslayer, Lyanna.”

She didn’t know what to say, truly. But the sheer ache she felt in the depth of her chest caused her to reach out her free hand and thread her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to her as he cried, his entire body violently wracked with his sorrow. 

It all suddenly made sense to her– the drinking, the whoring, the violence, the barbed words. He was punishing himself, his damnation pushing away everything that may even be a little good in his life. He was sentencing himself to a life of ruination until it consumed him completely, leaving nothing left behind but a husk; all because he thought he deserved it. Because he thought he killed everyone he’d ever loved.

It made sense. 

Lyanna held him close to her chest, hushing and soothing his sobs. He had let go of her wrist to wrap his arms around her in turn. “I know,” she breathed, holding him like she had wished to in her dreams, tightly as so he wouldn’t disappear. “You only tried to… please… them– didn’t you?”

He nodded slowly.

“You just wanted to be loved.”

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryen fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #my writing #wine red tears gold

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

The DM's Excerpts - Charles III: New King, New Court

Robert Hardman (who also wrote Queen of Our Times, published 2022) has written a new book about the British Royal Family. The Daily Mail is serializing parts of the book over four days, from 12 - 15 January 2024. Here are the links. If anyone has any others, feel free to share them in the comments.

If you don't want to give the DM clicks, I've included highlights below. (My browser doesn't recognize archive.vn or archive.ph as a valid domain so I can't create or access those links.)

TL;DR--

The day the Queen died, 12 Jan 2024

Secret summits over making Charles regent in Queen's last years, 13 Jan 2024

How the royals have dealt with a torrent of allegations from Harry and Meghan, 14 Jan 2024

Harmdan's intimate portrait of a woman who dances at Abba concerts, jabs the King with her handbag and 'knows when to wink at a bishop,' 15 Jan 2024

Excerpt #1, 12 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The last time most of her staff saw The Queen was at the pre-dinner cocktails the evening of September 6th. She was happy, chatty, and in a good mood. (September 6th was the Boris Johnson-Liz Truss transition.)

It was sheer luck that Anne and Peter were at Balmoral during this time. Anne was passing through for work, Peter was preparing for a shooting party he was going to host over the weekend (which ended up cancelled). Also Sarah Chatto was nearby.

On September 7th, The Queen planned to attend the Privy Council meeting as it involved new Cabinet officials being installed. She eventually cancelled on medical advice. This was the first signal to many that she wasn't doing well.

Charles and Camilla were on the western side of Scotland for a series of engagements September 7 - September 8. The morning of September 8, Anne called Charles to come to Balmoral at once. On the helicopter to Balmoral, everyone was reviewing the Operation London Bridge papers. They arrived at Birkhall around 10:30am and traveled to Balmoral in a borrowed car.

William was called around breakfast time and informed of the situation, including that was on his way to Balmoral. Charles himself called William (and Andrew, Edward, and Harry) that they should also come. After Charles's calls, Kensington Palace began coordinating with Royal Lodge (Andrew's office*) and Bagshot Park (Edward's office*) on travel to Scotland. William and KP did not reach out to the Sussexes because betrayal, and they felt the responsibility should have been on the Sussexes to make contact. (*Not really their offices, but it's the easiest way to keep them separate so you know who I'm talking about.)

Everyone was disturbed by Harry's inclusion of these events, especially the "Meghan's not coming/she's my wife/Kate's not coming either/that's all you had to say" bit, in his memoir. Harry's recollection of how he was notified of The Queen's death isn't true - he claims no one was talking to him but actually Charles and the palace had been trying to reach him repeatedly. The calls weren't going through because he was in the air. (Interesting that he'd check the BBC first as opposed to calling back after seeing a dozen of missed calls...or not springing for the wifi package...)

Liz Truss, the new PM, was in a G7 conference call on September 8th when she was notified of the situation in Scotland. She bowed out of the call early and quickly. The G7 leaders knew what was happening.

Charles was rather close to Balmoral when he received the call that The Queen had passed. William, Andrew, Edward, and Sophie were on the way to Balmoral from the Aberdeen airport. Charles called them himself to let them know.

The Archbishop of Canterbury was in France on a personal holiday. He and his wife began preparing to return home after seeing the palace's first statement about The Queen's health. They drove home overnight so Welby could make an address in the morning.

Excerpt #2, 13 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The Queen had been quite ill in her final year. She knew and was aware her time was ending that summer.

A regency would have been created had she lived as long as The Queen Mother because everyone was fearful of a health condition flaring up in public.

Planning for Charles's accession and coronation began in 2015. Sir Alderton, his private secretary, created a "training video" of the accession/transition then that Charles, Camilla, and William watched in the evening of September 8th during their private dinner at Birkhall, while Princess Anne hosted the rest of the family at Balmoral. If Harry wasn't such a dick (my word, not Hardman's), he'd have been part of the Birkhall dinner but he wasn't and there were very serious concerns he would write about it in Spare.

The announcement of The Queen's death was delayed because family members hadn't been informed yet. (I think it was Harry they were waiting on, per the events in the first article.)

The royals were very touched by the outpouring of public affection for The Queen, themselves, and their family. Camilla was struck by how supportive the crowd was of her. Anne was touched by the tractors, horses, and the crowds that lined the roads in Scotland. It was a six hour drive, and she and Tim had had snacks in their car but they both felt it would have been rude to everyone that came to see the procession and pay their respects to be seen eating.

Camilla sobbed through Charles's first speech.

The Privy Council were concerned that the political upheaval in the government would cause problems for the accession, transition, and royal mourning.

It was William's idea for him, Kate, and the Sussexes to do the Windsor walkabout together. He organized it in two hours. No one found it easy or enjoyable.

Excerpt #3, 14 Jan 2024

Highlights:

The Queen felt she had to say 'yes' when Harry contacted her about naming his daughter Lilibet and she was very angry with him for it. (Reading between the lines, it sounds like the decision was presented by the Sussexes as "fait accompli" and The Queen took offense.)

The Sussexes tried to force the palace to go along with their version (that they had asked The Queen for permission) but the palace refused to play. They also tried to intimidate the press with legal action if anyone didn't report "their" version of events, even going so far as threatening the BBC with a lawsuit.

Everyone at the palace rolled their eyes about the Sussexes getting the RFK "Ripple of Hope Award." They felt that the "legacy" the Sussexes were being rewarded for was laughable, especially when compared to Charles's work.

The Caribbean gets its news through the US media. (I believe this confirms the theory that Sussex PR influenced the Caribbean's coverage of the Royal Family)

William saw Harry's comments in the Netflix documentary that they're expected to marry someone who fits the mold as an attack on Kate and he's been furious since. He feels betrayed by Harry having discussed their relationship so freely, thinks it's an intrusion of privacy.

Neither William nor Kate have read Spare but they are aware of what's being said and their staffs have briefed them.

Harry's version of events when The Queen Mother died is totally made up. (In Spare, Harry says he was alone, it was springtime just before Easter, and he took the call himself, but actually he was in Switzerland skiing with Charles and William and all three were told together by an aide.)

It's very suspicious that Spare largely skips May 2018 - March 2020. The palace thinks it'll be covered in the second version or Meghan's memoir.

The door is open for Harry and Meghan to return but they'll have to make the first steps since Charles has given up.

Anne's seat the coronation in front of Harry was a last-minute change so she could leave more quickly after the service in the procssion. She was concerned about keeping her hat on since it was "decent-sized" but she was told to keep it on.

Excerpt #4, 15 Jan 2024 - TBD

Highlights

It's been a difficult transition to Queen for Camilla, but everyone believes she handled it well. Her family finds it surreal.

Camilla doesn't mind being second fiddle to Charles.

She still has her Wiltshire home, Ray Mill, which she bought after divorcing Andrew PB. She still visits and stays there to this day.

Everyone walks a bit on eggshells around Charles because he's a bit temperamental, but Camilla steadies him.

Camilla likes her rooms hot. Charles like his rooms cold and windows open.

Charles skips lunch. Camilla does not.

Camilla keeps Charles running on time when he gets chatty.

Camilla is hands-on with her charities and patronage.

I find her sister is overstaying her welcome. After her starring role in the coronation documentary and now her interviews with Hardman for the book, it's too much and feels like she's trying too hard.

Other stories by Hardman from his book:

Foreign Office officials 'ditched buses for dignitaries' at coronation after backlash at the Queen's funeral, 13 Jan 2024

Brigadier who helped carry Queen's coffin was at a wedding in Corfu, 13 Jan 2024

Queen's funeral rehearsal was a comedy of errors as even the band went AWOL, 13 Jan 2024

Prince Andrew could be 'far more damaging outside the loop,' 14 Jan 2024

The DM's other royal reporters - Martin Robinson, Rebecca English, Natasha Livingstone - are publishing "recaps" of Hardman's excerpts. Some of Rebecca English's stories are augmented by her own sources. Here are a few:

Insiders revewal how the Queen was so upset by Harry and Meghan's Lilibet decision that she told aides 'the only thing I own is my name. And now they've taken that': The royal row taht troubled Her Majesty in twilight of her reign, 15 Jan 2024

'For William, this was the lwoest of the low,' 15 Jan 2024

Camilla was given the affection nickname 'Lorraine' before seh became Queen, 14 Jan 2024

Harry and Meghan likely caused Queen 'distress' in her final years over naming of baby Lilibet, 15 Jan 2024

The Queen's final years were overshadowed by Harry and Meghan's hunger for publicity, 15 Jan 2024

Also, these are reminding me of some things Harry and Meghan (Harry mostly) have claimed and Hardman's articles are debunking them. I need to do a bit of research to check if the dates on what I'm remembering line up with the timeline Hardman is presenting. I'll do a separate post on that since this is already quite long.

#brf #rumors #theories #robert hardman

[stereor4t]

lesbian movies I've seen so far (review based on my tastes)

I'm going to give my opinion of the lesbian movies I've seen so far and I'm going to give them a score from 1 to 5 stars :3 it may contain some spoilers

Bound(1996)

For the year this movie was made, I was actually surprised by the END of it(fuck the obsession with killing the protagonist). I didn’t really have much faith in it by how it stars, but man, I was so surprised, I loved it, be gay do crime. ★★★★☆

Gia(1998)

God, this movie is my new roman empire, I didn’t know about Gia’s story, but the ending of the movie DESTROYED ME. the scene where shes talking with Linda and she says: now we have all the time in the world, I was so moved by it, I loved it. It’s currently one of my favorite movies.★★★★★

Lost and delirious(2001)

ugh shakespearean shit, this movie touches more than one of us when it comes to the experience of liking girls. I liked it but I felt like there was a lot of wasted potential that could’ve made it great, tbh i just wanted Paulie to be happy; the fact the Piper Perabo is in it helps the score too. ★★★☆☆

D.E.B.S.(2004)

ITS THE BEST FUCKING MOVIE IN THE WORLD, GOD. I actually hated this movie before watching it ‘cause I thought it was some dumb comedy, but god, when I gave it a chance it BLEW ME AWAY. If you want to see some lesbian spies enemies to lovers shit watch debs.  ★★★★★

My summer of love(2004)

Personally, I HATED this movie kjj, I didn’t really get ANYTHING at all, like it felt like everything was just too rushed??? like when did they even fall in love lol? Gets points just for Emily Blunt. ★★☆☆☆

Imagine me & you(2005)

Piper Perabo again and Lena Heady THE WOMAN. This movie is ART, my fav movie, it’s beautiful, comfort movie af. The true don’t let your husband keep you from meeting your future wife. ★★★★★

Loving Annabelle(2006)

This movie was made for all of us who once liked a teacher or profesor. I liked it quite a lot, but I feel like seize it’s true potential. Personally, I choose to think that the alternative ending it’s the true one lol. ★★★☆☆

Bloomington(2010)

Again for us that like fantasizing about our teachers. I like this movie but again, I feel like they didn’t really make the most of it jskdja annoying af bitching about the same but yeah, it bothered me. Anyway, i liked the movie, and I didn’t like the ending at all,I felt bad for the poor teacher :c. ★★★☆☆

A perfect ending(2012)

I know a lot of people hate this movie and think it’s shit, but I personally love it lol. Idk I remember that when I watched it it got me super emotional and i liked it a lot, dont care what anyone says to me it’s a good movie. ★★★☆☆

The girl king(2015)

★☆☆☆☆

Didn’t like it at all, boring af, i didn’t really get it, idk, i was expecting more. ★☆☆☆☆

First girl i loved(2016)

Im fond of this movie, it was one of the first ones I saw, the ending just made a me a bit frustrated, but I liked it, Brianna Hildebrand with a wig funny as hell. ★★★☆☆

Disobedience(2017)

Rachel Weisz and McAdams DAMN. Great movie, I liked it in all aspects. Although the ending wasn’t what I expected I still liked it. ★★★★★

Tell it to the bees(2018)

Mmm I think this movie is kinda meh, like it’s okay but I feel like it lacks something for me to like it, tho I didn’t get the ending, like I don’t understand the decisions each one took. ★★☆☆☆

Ammonite(2020)

Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan!!!! I liked it but I didn’t love it, I never got to understand if Mary hated or loved Charlotte. The ending got me frustrated!!! ★★★☆☆

Crush(2022)

The kind of movie you gotta watch after Gia, I liked it I thought it was silly, like very much teenage romcom sort of shit, like the Kissing Booth but for lesbians. ★★★☆☆

You can live forever(2022)

I think this is a great movie, interesting story, I wasn’t expecting the whole ending sequence, what Marike says to Jamie destroyed me, in my head theyre the young version of the Disobedience ones. ★★★★★

Booksmart(2019)

GREAT MOVIE, very entertaining and funny, I liked it quite a lot, it’s perfect to watch it with friends. Gigi is just like me fr best character ever. ★★★★★

#wlw #sapphic #lesbianism #movies #wlw movies #lgbtq community #lgbtq #queer #queer community #lesbian #woman #booksmart #bound #gia #rachel weisz #rachel mcadams #saoirse ronan #kate winslet #piper perabo #rowan blanchard #angelina jolie #debs 2004

[the-wales-5]

"Scene of the crime" ;)

21st November 2023.

William and Catherine were getting ready to leave for a meeting with the President & First Lady of the Republic of Korea.

The prince of Wales approached his wife and said “You look stunning today, especially in this red coat”, then he proceeded to kiss her on the lips.

"Thank you" Catherine said and smiled a little bit "But please stop with these comments now, we're getting late" she added.

William shook head and hugged her from behind. But Catherine was annoyed. She tried not to show it and sighed, but William could feel that she was frustrated so he asked: "What's going on?"

"I already told you that we're getting late" Catherine replied and rolled her eyes a little.

"No, we're not really late. There's still half an hour left for us to leave",William said and again wanted to kiss her but she rejected it once more and sighed as she looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"We'll get late. Are you ready now?",William asked after a few minutes

"Oh, all of a sudden you are worried about us getting late" she shouted, then scoffed and left the room.

*

“I just wanted to kiss you but you're acting like a teenager” William said when they were in the car a few minutes later.

“Just one kiss would turn to something more within seconds and I don't like that when we're about to attend an engagement, you know?” Catherine scoffed

“Recently you are annoyed about everything I see” William rolled his eyes

“What do you mean?” Catherine asked louder

“Absolutely nothing” he said and ignored her.

10 minutes later, Catherine left the car and her pictures made the whole royal side of social media blow. Fans were amazed by one of the pictures and by her outfit too.

But the Princess was far from being happy. She quickly curtsied to the king and then stood next to her husband during the horse guard parade.

He quickly understood his mistake and tried to make her smile by talking to her. Kate hardly tried to ignore it and was not paying attention to William nor his words. Yet, she almost smiled at one point.

He leaned close to her and whispered

“You're smiling, Mrs Wales”.

At last, she turned her head to him and smiled once again. Now it was more visible, but after a second, she looked in front of herself again.

Soon, they were at Buckingham Palace to see the exhibition. It was supposed to begin in the next ten minutes. All of a sudden, Catherine's husband took her hand into his and pulled her toward a quiet and dark corner of the room.

“Forgive me” he said then.

"I already did. By the way, what are you doing? I need to fix my hair now because I don't want to wear this hat inside. And the exhibition starts soon. We can talk later, William" she said.

He looked into her eyes and slowly took off her hat, letting her gorgeous brown hair scattered across her back.

Catherine giggled a little "What are you doing?"

"You said you wanted to take this hat off, right? I helped you” William said.

Kate pretended to be annoyed but he pulled her even closer "It's an official apology.. I am really sorry for annoying you earlier. Please, say we're okay now" he whispered.

Catherine was looking into his eyes for a few seconds. Then she whispered "Yes, I think we are okay now”

William smiled and gently pressed his lips on hers "And let me just repeat, you're stunning today. You always are!" he whispered.

Catherine caressed his cheek "Thank you.. I am sorry for shouting at you" she said.

“Don't be sorry, my wife” William whispered and fixed her hair a little.

One of Buckingham Palace aides cleared his throat “Sir, Ma'am. The exhibition starts soon”.

William put his hand on her back and asked “Ready?”. She nodded and put her hand on his lower back.

During the exhibition, they were caught on camera putting hands on one another's back, at one moment they even wanted to hold hands but then remembered they were on duties and quickly took apart and giggled.

“Thank god, we're going back home soon” William murmured

“What is on your mind, Mr Wales?” Catherine smirked but he didn't reply, decided to tease her and 'ignore' her just like she did at the parade earlier.

On the way home in the car, they were caressing one another's hand. Words were unnecessary between them.

*

As soon as they reached the house, they did not wait even for a second before closing the door. When she noticed that William wanted to say something, Catherine teased him “Don't talk now. You wanted to kiss me, remember?”

William looked at her and smirked a little before passionately pressing his lips on hers and taking off her red coat at the same time.

Catherine was smiling between those kisses.

"How much time we've got until you have to start preparing?" William asked her in a whisper

"A little bit more than 2 hours I think but you know that our children can come here” Catherine said. William locked the door and replied “It's not possible anymore, babe”.

He kissed her under her ear and Kate trembled as she said “It is insane”

“What is insane?” He asked and continued to kiss her

“I'm already not okay after your kisses” she said and tightly closed her eyes.

William chuckled, then lifted her up in his arms and laid her down on the bed.

Catherine smiled at him a little and said “You're wearing too many clothes”

“And you are allowed to take them off” William smirked

His wife took his suit and tie off and then said “Your shirt.. Can I take it off too?”

“Of course, my wife”

“Tear it?” She smirked as she remembered their honeymoon phase in 2011

“You can do everything you want to me now, Catherine Elizabeth. I'm yours” William whispered and kissed her on the lips again.

She smiled lovingly but her facial expression changed to a smirk as she tore his white shirt. Seconds later she pretended to be innocent as she said “I am sorry. I'll have to buy you a new one for Christmas”.

“I don't mind that” William smirked before kissing her on her neck. Catherine gasped and tried to control her breath but it was becoming heavier with each one of the kisses he placed on her skin.

“You are.. insane now” she managed to say and trembled for the thousandth time.

“It is your fault, Mrs Wales. I have been waiting for this moment since I saw you in this” he said and then slowly took off the red dress she was wearing under her coat early in the day “You looked so beautiful and I couldn't resist but wanted to kiss you”.

Catherine was smiling as she tried to focus on listening to his words. She blushed when she heard him say “I barely controlled myself from kissing you earlier at the parade today after noticing your sweet little smile”

“I would reject you. I was angry” Catherine said and winked, then she was finally able to press her lips on his. William cupped her face in his hands and whispered as he looked into her green eyes:

“Don't get angry at me anymore. I can't function properly when you are annoyed toward me, you know?”.

Catherine nodded and kissed him again, this time on his neck too. William deepened another of his lip kisses and then proceeded to kiss both of her flushed cheeks, down her chin, throat and neck again. Within time those kisses turned into little bites.

Catherine's eyes widened and she whispered his name breathlessly.

“Hsshh..” William shushed her with a soft kiss on her forehead and looked into her eyes for a second. He kept kissing her, leaving marks all over her neck and rest of her body. She could not say anything and did not want to.

Both of them were completely lost in one another at that moment and the rest of the two hours they had were spent on making love and telling sweet nothings to each other.

*

“We should get up now and start to prepare for the banquet” Catherine whispered as she caressed her husband’s back.

“I'd rather stay here and continue what we were doing, you know?” He smirked

“We have a reception to attend, my silly William” she said and laughed a little “We can continue that later tonight”.

Then, she wore one of his shirts and sat down in front of the mirror. Next thing he heard was her sigh full of annoyance and her words:

“Look what you've done to my neck, Mr Wales”

“And who's done this to my neck and chest, Mrs Wales?” William pointed at himself and smirked again.

Catherine closed her eyes and tried not to laugh. “I hope I can cover these marks you left on me with make-up” she said and pretended to feel angry.

William kissed her on the forehead and then went to take a quick shower. Catherine looked at the ceiling and sighed happily. “This is unbelievable that we're still in a honeymoon phase sometimes” she whispered and tried not to blush

“Would you like to join?” William asked from the bathroom

“NOO!” Catherine said and laughed “Hurry up, I have to take a shower too!” .

Within the next 20 minutes, Catherine finished her shower time as well and sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror “My hair's a mess right now”.

“May I help you to fix it somehow?” William asked and caressed her shoulder “You know, I help you with your hair often”

“Yes, but only at home”

“Not only there, remember the time before our wedding reception?”

“It was a simple blow dry”

“Come on, it doesn't mean I can't do anything more” he said and took her comb and hair dryer in his hand “Let us try it”.

Catherine smiled a little and again looked at love bites on her neck.

“I wonder how much make-up will I have to put here” she wondered

“It's not my fault” William said innocently and chuckled a little “I am afraid you won't be able to hide it completely” he teased her

“Don't say that!” Catherine sighed “What if they see it?” She blushed then

“You should not be worried about that” William replied

“You don't know what you are saying because your marks will not be seen in pictures” she blushed again.

William chuckled softly and kissed her on the forehead “I am sure you will cover them perfectly. Don't worry. Are you planning to do an updo tonight?I was thinking about an half up and half down just like you did for our wedding”

"It's a perfect idea. And I think it will fit the tiara I want to wear tonight" Catherine said and looked at her husband

"Your wedding one?" William laughed

"No, my wedding one is too significant to wear again" Catherine smiled

"Cambridge Lover's Knot again?” William asked and rolled his eyes a little “Or else the Lotus, right?” He said

"No, something new for me this time" Catherine smiled a little "The Strathmore tiara”

"The Strathmore?” William was quite shocked “Pa gave you the Strathmore? Is it repaired now? It hasn't seen light for like 100 years!”

"Yes but it's beautiful and I can't wait to wear it" Catherine said

"You will look drop dead gorgeous with it" William said and smiled “Let's try make your hair perfect for it”

"Okay" Catherine smiled and tried not to blush again. She was relaxed now and completely forgot about that pointless fight with William.

The Prince of Wales was not skilled at hairdressing but he did the draft very well and Catherine was impressed.

"Do you like it?" He asked after seeing a little smile on her face

"Yes, it reminds me of my wedding hair a little bit. Thank you" she said.

"You're welcome, but I think Natalie will have to fix it a bit and then you'll be perfect to go" William said and kissed her on hand “I'll wait downstairs” he added. Catherine smiled at his way and called Natalie to help her.

*

They were in the car a few minutes later on the way to Buckingham Palace. William was looking at his wife almost all the time, feeling mesmerised by her beauty. Catherine knew about looks he was sending her and squeezed his hand a few times throughout the way. Before they arrived in front of the palace, the princess checked herself in the mirror and said quietly “Oh no.. Why didn't I notice it earlier? It is too late now to fix it”

“What?” William asked as he looked at her

Catherine did not reply but pointed at her neck and sighed.

“It is not that dark or visible if one would not look too closely” William said

“I should have noticed it before” Kate closed her eyes, feeling embarrassed and angry too.

“They will not notice it, Catherine”

“How can you be so sure?” she sighed “It is rather easy to see it, especially with the cameras nowadays, you know?” she scoffed

“Stop worrying, please. Everything will be okay”

Catherine rolled her eyes a little and then sighed "Well.. I hope you are right because now I can't fix it anymore”

"I am right. Let's get inside now" William whispered and gently kissed her on cheek before leaving the car.

They were photographed at the door and those photos went viral on social media. Eagle-eyed followers noticed a bite mark on Catherine's neck.

William's wife was smiling, but in the back of her mind, she still had these thoughts full of annoyance at herself. However, she started to feel more relaxed when Princess Anne approached her.

"Someone's left a mark of his crime!" Anne teased Catherine at some point of their conversation. Kate didn't know what to say, she just blushed a little and then looked away.

Anne chuckled and looked at William who mouthed from afar: "Is everything alright?”.

"Yes" Catherine mouthed too and then chuckled. She looked at Anne and said "You should tease him, not me”

"He's tensed enough already" Anne said and laughed a little,"I didn't want to embarrass him even more”

"But you had to embarrass me, yes?" Catherine rolled her eyes a little but then laughed too.

"You are my favourite, you know that” Anne said and winked.

They continued their talk, and Catherine finally could feel relaxed.

When the banquet ended and they were in the car, William asked his wife about her conversation with his aunt.

"Among other things, we talked about a love bite, thanks to you" Catherine replied and rolled her eyes a little.

William sighed and said "I thought nobody would notice"

"Your aunt has an eagle eye, unfortunately," Catherine replied

"I'm sorry, Kate..” William whispered.

Catherine looked at him and smiled a little."Why are you being sorry? It's not anything serious, Wills” she said quietly.

"But she embarrassed you" William said

"She is my family and one of the best people for us at the moment, and she made me laugh anyway, so I don't see a problem" Catherine said quietly and smiled.

“So, you are okay?”

Catherine nodded and caressed his cheek,"I haven't been happier like today for a long time" she whispered and placed her head on his shoulder as hugging his arm "Kiss my forehead now” she whispered again.

William smiled at her lovingly, then gently kissed her on the forehead and told her that he loved her. The night outside the car window was a beautiful one, but for Catherine's husband, she was the most important at that particular moment.

The end ♡

#royal fanfiction #2023 #scene of the crime #:) #state visit #buckingham palace #prince of wales #princess of wales #william and catherine #kate x william #🔥 #❤️ #stories #text post #tags #christmas gift #christmas 🎄 #christmas 2023

[aprill-99]

EACH BRIDGERTON COUPLE AS JOHN MULANEY QUOTES:

Daphne & Simon:

Daphne: “A friend of mine asked me if I’d ever been given the sex talk, and the answer is yes… I think.”

Simon: “My father was COOOLD BLOODED.” + “Does my best friend hate me or do I just need to go to sleep?”

Kate & Anthony:

Anthony: “I’ll keep all my emotions right here and then one day, I’ll die.”

Kate: “Get out of here with your facts. Just because you’re accurate does not make you interesting.” + “I’m new in town, and it gets worse.”

Benedict & Sophie:

Benedict: “This is a healthy twenty-eight year old man trying his best.”

Sophie: “I was a maid for a while. I was treated well in my day. I worked for a variety of sirs.”

Colin & Penelope:

Colin: “My wife is a bitch and I like her soooooo much.”

Penelope: “We spend most of our time proving to people that we are who we say we are. Think about that for 10 seconds and tell me you don’t want to walk into the ocean.” + “People say crazy things all the time. And those things mean nothing to them, but they mean everything to me.”

Phillip & Eloise:

Eloise: “Thirteen year olds will make fun of you, but in an accurate way.”

Philip: “It was like, you know one of those days where you just go ‘this might as well happen.’”

Michael & Francesca:

Francesca: “I try to stay optimistic, but I will admit, things are getting pretty sticky.”

Michael: “We don’t get better than this. It’s just going to be worse versions of me from here on out.” + “And if you think I seem unlikable or out of control in that story, then just remember, that’s one I was willing to tell you.”

Hyacinth & Gareth:

Hyacinth: “Well none of us ever really know our fathers…… Anyway-”

Gareth: “I am very small. And I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress I am under.”

Lucy & Gregory:

Gregory: “I do hear you, and I also don’t want to be doing what I’m doing.”

Lucy: “In terms of instant relief, canceling plans is like heroine.”

Lady Danbury & Lord Ledger:

Lady Danbury: “Shut up you’re all going to die! Street smarts!” + “It’s wrong to make fun of people, but it’s just so fun sometimes.”

Lord Ledger: “My vibe is like ‘hey you could pour soup in my lap and I’d probably apologize to you.’”

George & Charlotte:

King George: “it seems like everyone, everywhere, is super mad about everything, all the time.”

Queen Charlotte: “I simply do not give a shit what anybody thinks of me in any situation.”

Bonus:

Violet: “Putting a thirteen year old in charge of your younger kids is like getting a dog to babysit your horse. If something goes wrong, they can just maybe get help a little more quickly.”

#incorrect bridgerton quotes #long post #source: john mulaney #simon x daphne #anthony bridgerton #daphne bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #simon basset #kate x anthony #kate sharma #benedict x sophie #sophie beckett #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #penelope bridgerton #michael x francesca #michael stirling #francesca bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #phillip crane #gareth st clair #hyacinth x gareth #hyacinth bridgerton #Lucy x Gregory #gregory bridgerton #queen charlotte #charlotte x george #lady danbury #lady danbury x lord ledger

[sea-owl]

I has an idea, y'all gotta trust me on this though.

Kate gripped her skirts as she watched the scenery roll by. There was not much else she could do. The king has chosen her, so she must go.

"Didi," Edwina muttered across from her.

Kate smiled at her younger sister. At least it wasn't her who was chosen to be the concubine.

When word spread that King Anthony was looking for a new concubine, one to join the other two high ranked concubines, Lady Danbury was quick to do her duty and arrange a meeting for the king to meet with both eligible Sharma sisters. Kate had no worry for herself. No one ever really looked her way, especially with Edwina next to her. She was worried for sweet Edwina, though, who had dreams of marrying a scholar, of being in love. Mary, Edwina's mother and Kate's stepmother, was quick to refuse until Edwina spoke up.

"A cocubine's family are well taken care of, and it's only a meeting. He might not even choose one of us."

Kate remembers squeezing Edwina's arm. It was true the money received would help their family but Kate did not want that at her sister's happiness. After all who would not choose Edwina?

On the day of the meeting a handsome man with chestnut hair and brown eyes exited the carriage. Behind him a curvy red head who appeared to be the same age as Edwina. She wore a golden necklace with the royal family's pendant, something all concubines wear.

"Lady Penelope," Lady Danbury whispered to the three Sharma women. "She was the first of the King's concubines and is often with him when a new one is chosen as a sort of welcoming."

Kate wanted to be sick. There was no way this young woman was the first concubine. It is a well-known fact that King Anthony took his first concubine five years ago. Kate remembers hearing the stories of the king announcing it when all of his family members were away from court. It created such a scandal for the king to restart that old tradition from his grandather's time. No one suspected the young king to take any after his father had only ever taken his wife, the Dowager Queen. If Kate was doing her math right then Lady Penelope had to be only 15 when the king chose her.

"Your majesty, my lady," Lady Danbury bowed. The Sharma women followed her lead.

The dinner was pleasant. King Anthony was a gentleman and Lady Penelope was rather witty. At one point the king left with Lady Danbury and Mary to speak on some sort of business. Lady Penelope was left with Kate and Edwina.

"It has been so wonderful to meet both of you," Lady Penelope. "Anthony has told me you have only moved here about two years ago. I would have never guessed!"

Kate smiled proudly. "Thank you Lady Penelope. I trained my sister in everything she knows."

Lady Penelope turned her full attention on Kate. "Really?"

Edwina nodded. "Yes, Kate is a fantastic teacher."

Penelope smiled, one a little different than from before. "If you don't mind I would love to learn something from such a fantastic teacher."

"Let me teach you how to make a proper cup of tea," Kate laughed as she called for the ingredients.

Lady Danbury, Mary, and the King returned not long after. Was it Kate, or did Lady Penelope and the King just send a silent message to one another?

"How was your time with the Ms. Sharmas?" The King asked.

"Oh, we've had a lovely time," Lady Penelope said. "Ms Kate even showed me how to make tea from her home! Would you like to try some?"

"No thank you," the king declined.

Lady Penelope rolled her eyes. "I know it's not your usual night cap but something new or different won't throw you out of balance."

"Are you the superstitious type your majesty?"

"No!" The king said at the same time Lady Penelope said, "Yes!"

"Ah I see. Some men like that find it hard to perform without certain tools like a child with a blanket."

The kings face went red while Lady Penelope burst out into giggles.

"Hush you," the King ordered Lady Penelope who's giggles were only made worse. "Time for you to head off to bed."

Kate tried not to blush the next morning when she saw Lady Penelope yawning as she left the king's room.

"Oh Ms. Sharma!" Lady Penelope greeted. "Congratulations!"

Kate felt a hole open beneath her feet. King Anthony chose-

"I can't wait to see you next week at the Garden Palace!"

What?

"Admitly it would be easier just to have you come with us back to the Garden Palace today but we do need time to get your rooms ready."

Huh?

Lady Penelope noticed Kate's confusion, then became confused herself. "Ms. Sharma?"

"I'm sorry my lady," Kate said. "If my sister was chosen to be the new concubine why would I go to the Garden Palace?"

Lady Penelope giggled. "Your sister wasn't chosen to be the new concubine Ms. Sharma. Or I should say Lady Kate."

Kate's mind went blank.

Now a week later Kate found herself in front of the Garden Palace dressed in fine purple silk and with a new shiny gold necklace. Though there was this odd marking on the back of the bee pendent. If Kate had to guess it would be a picture of an Iris flower. A flower commonly associated with wisdom of Kate was remembering correctly.

"Didi it's s so beautiful," Edwina muttered.

"It is Bon," Kate agreed.

The Garden Palace has always been the home for the king's concubines and where he spreads his seed. It wasn't used much during King Edmund's time besides to house the last of his father's concubines, but King Anthony has made use for it again. As the name suggests, there are a multitude of gardens around the palace, all filled with the most beautiful flowers. A few contain food and herbs. The palace servants are all women as men besides the king, his family, and those invited by the king were forbidden from entering. There are gaurds who were once traditionally physically castrated but apparently, the king had found someone who could make a tea that would temporarily do the same thing as traditional castration without all the mess. Those who take the tea are watched every morning to make sure they take it.

"Lady Kate! Ms Sharma!"

There to greet them was Lady Penelope dressed in green and a blonde woman dressed in silver with the same gold necklace. Just behind them were a red head who was in her teens, and a plump blonde the same age as Edwina. Their clothes weren't as fine as a concubines but still nicer than a serving girl's. Lady's maids maybe?

"How wonderful to meet you," the blonde concubine bowed. "I am Lady Sophie."

The two other girls bowed. "I am Felicity, I serve as Lady Penelope's head lady in waiting," the red head said.

"And I am Posy," the plump girl introduced herself. "I am the head lady in waiting for Lady Sophie."

"Posy and Felicity will show Ms. Sharma around," Lady Sophie said. "Meanwhile there are a few things we should talk about Lady Kate with her new position as a high ranking concubine. "

Kate held back a shiver.

The Ladies in Waiting ran off with Edwina while Kate followed her fellow concubines to a private room.

"So am I to expect the king tonight?" Kate asked.

"Probably at dinner," Lady Penelope answered, "but I think he has to go back to Aubrey Palace tonight."

Kate blinked. Well, at least she'll have some time to put this off.

Lady Penelope watched Kate. "Lady Kate as the newest concubine we have some things to tell you."

Tell her? Was it how best to please the king? Maybe some tricks they've picked up. After all with their rank he would spend the most time with them.

"Anthony won't touch you if you do not want it, and outside of meetings he doesn't go to a lady's room unless invited."

Kate blinked. And then she blinked again, and again. "I'm sorry what?"

Lady Penelope and Lady Sophie giggled.

"While it is true some of the women here are actual concubines, it's all consensual between them and Anthony," Lady Sophie explained. "He has a rather protective streak of those he believes that are under his care. You've probably seen it with how he acts towards his siblings. Others like myself and Penelope, who are here for protection, are still chaste."

Kate's jaw dropped. There's no way. She turned towards the red head. "But I saw you leave his room at Lady Danbury's."

Lady Penelope waved her hand. "We were discussing whether or not to bring you on. I was in favor for it. You're just what the Iris Council needs."

Kate furrowed her eyebrows. "The Iris Council."

Lady Penelope and Lady Sophie flipped their bee pendants to reveal that same etched in iris flower on the back.

"Anthony was young when the previous king passed," Lady Penelope explained. "The lords were like sharks out for blood, and he knew he needed a council who would be loyal to him and couldn't be easily influenced from the outside. Naturally, he thought of his siblings first, but the princes and princesses were too public of figures. Concubines however were much harder to access and really who expect a king to surround himself in a council of women?"

"So what are your real roles and what am I to do?"

The king's voice spoke behind Kate. "Penelope is my spy mistress. Sophie is my chief financial advisor."

Lady Penelope and Lady Sophie waved. "Hi Anthony."

Kate was about to stand to bow but the king raised a hand to signal her to stop. Instead he took a seat next to her.

"So what is my role to be here?" Kate asked.

"I want you to run the Garden Palace."

"Run the Garden Palace?" Kate repeated. "Why not just hire me as to do that role then, why make me a concubine?"

"It's because of the Iris Council and the need to keep their existence quiet," Anthony explained. "While they are ultimately self-sufficient and are loyal to me, I need someone to work as my second in command and leqder of the Garden Palace. Penelope looked into your background, and you've proven yourself as a head of house. You know how to manage people. Perfect for the position."

"Huh," Kate muttered. "I guess the rumors the king being a Capitol R rake are just rumors."

Anthony nodded in agreement.

"Oh no he's a whore."

Penelope and Sophie giggled when Kate whipped her head towards them.

Anthony sent them a glare. "Hush both of you."

#to make this clear this is NOT a harem au #anthony's relationships with penelope and sophie are completely platonic #and yes he is a hoe at first but so is canon anthony #kathony endgame #kathony #platonic anthony and penelope #platonic anthony and sophie #when your concubines are also inner council #this honestly stemmed from the headcanon i have that anthony had paperwork at the ready should he need to adopt others #he cant adopt everyone but he does have a palace where no men are allowed #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kate sheffield #sophie beckett #penelope featherington #the iris council #concubine au

[emmashouldbewriting]

Do you think that some of this animosity against C&C is the result of ageism? The fans who are the most rabid supporters of W&K also seem to be the ones who comment constantly on how hot William is, how beautiful Catherine is. While all of these comments are, indeed, true--you've met them and can attest to the veracity of these statements--any comments about how work-shy these two are are met with screams of denial. They have a family! They also have a job, which they are not doing. If Camilla is out there pressing hands, it's in service of her own ego. Yet, if Prince Philip were doing the SAME things that Queen Camilla is doing now, he would be praised as a supporter of his wife, and not an evil man basking in the PR. Queen Camilla appears in the same jewels the Queen wore and Queen Elizabeth was oohed and aahed over, but what nerve Queen Camilla has to wear the SAME EXACT jewelry. The last time I looked, Camilla was Queen. Why shouldn't she wear these jewels? They weren't Elizabeth's. They belong to the Crown. But let's hand out tiaras to Catherine like they're Smarties because she's so perfect. More tiaras for Kate. I mean, it's unhinged.

Two elderly people in their 70s aren't the clickbait that W&C are. Acknowledged. But being fandom means that we have this ridiculous ship war because that is what this is even if people don't want to acknowledge it. Charles is King for as long as he wants to be. That's a fact, and royal watchers who are obsessed with tiaras and the length of Catherine's hair and William's abs really need to take a few breaths and step back. I like both couples. I think Charles is weak regarding his youngest son, and I think that William and Catherine are abusing their privilege. That doesn't mean that I don't appreciate both couples' efforts on behalf of the UK.

i think it's more prejudice of the adulter/mistress combined with the fact that neither of them are conventionally attractive. william isn't either, really, but he has a natural presence that adds to it. that's where my own feelings about them come in, but i maintain that their beauty goes far beyond their looks - they are genuinely warm, fuzzy, cosy people. their auras are so comforting

i think for many royal watchers it's easy to support those in your generation - millenials especially have a connection with W&K because we "grew up" with them. even us baby millenials watched their romance in real time. our kids will have more of a connection with George/Charlotte/Louis because they're 'their' royals, you know?

I think Charles is weak regarding his youngest son, and I think that William and Catherine are abusing their privilege

bestie you nailed it in one go with that right there. and that's why we must continue to call them out

[precious-little-scoundrel]

Twenty Songs Challenge, written after being so lovingly inducted by the powerhouse that is sweet Mey, @the-ugly-swan . Challenge being to choose twenty favorited songs and write one shots based off of them with any pairing or fandom of my choosing. Being a weirdo and a little burned out in my own created universes beyond the fics already in works, I chose what currently inspired me most, obscure as it is.

Pairing: Henry “Hotspur” Percy and Lady “Kate” Mortimer Percy -early 15th century

Fandom: RPF, Shakespeare? Tom Glynn-Carney’s 5 magnificent minutes of a performance as Hotspur in <The King 2019> the armor alone was amply inspiring. The Hollow Crown fans feel free to imagine whoever, as you like. I love this historical pairing in about any iteration and the plot is drawn from both Shakespeare’s play and real history, the timeline, plot and politics being pretty self explanatory through the incorporated dialogue. NOTE- wordplay ahead with “cur” and “Kerr”, the latter being a Scottish clan holding great enmity with the Percy Family and charged with holding the Scottish side of the border. Also I kept Lady Percy’s name as “Kate” even though it was technically Elizabeth in the records.

Dynamic: a rough northern lord and his too good for him lady -a lady who has, through years of an arranged marriage gone horribly well, come to find his homespun gallantry and blunt ways more than a little intoxicating when knelt before her in amused deference. She could almost find it in herself to be gentle with him -if he hadn’t just started a rebellion whilst away from her at the Capitol.

Dedicated to my wifey @prompted-wordsmith who I did proselytize into the Percy cult one fevered evening with inestimable results, including her contribution of a few choice lines herein.

🕯As it Was ~ Hozier

“There is a roadway, muddy and foxgloved

Never I'd had life enough

My heart is screaming out

And in a few days I would be there, love

Whatever here that's left of me is yours just as it was”

Warnings: 18+ to be safe. a small amount of sexual content, flirtations, a husband and wife touching in public, verbal sparring and talk of making children and use of the word “bred”, swearing, use of the words “cock” and “cunt.”

The sound of hooves in the courtyard rouses Kate from her anxious stupor by the hearth, toilsome grain list forgotten on her lap. The scroll swishes to the floor at her abrupt standing, wafting out of her path as she rushes to the window.

First the clatter of a single, foremost, over-eager rider, followed at a lag by his retinue, skilled riders all and armored as befits the guard of a nobleman. They make such a clatter in the yard when they come in after him. Some petty part of her briefly considers the tactic of staying here in their chambers in protest, a quiet sign of disapproval with his errand, of discontent with his brusque leave taking two weeks agone.

Her Harry would find her anyway, and like it better that she were in their chambers. He would like it well she were so near the bed and like it ill she slighted him in her dutiful welcome -but he would not speak of that. Not one for speaking much, her husband, not on matters that plague her these days, weeks, months. Kate might have it out with him in the old way and slap him about and toss cold quips and get from him little more than the same benign aggravation and good humored laughs between, a couple dozen kisses to her neck and a grapple in the sheets.

That is what talk they would undertake were she to stay up here.

It is that lone, eager, forerunning clatter of his horse that speaks to her, speaks for him. Just as his sword and his reputation and his gruff graciousness has spoken well of him across these northern lands, his eagerness to return to her, to outstrip his men in haste to be back from his fool’s errand and into her embrace -it is all the declaration of devotion she may expect from him. It is the truest form, without jape lacing his tone or tonic of lust clouding his confessions.

Harry Hotspur, as fast to return to his wife as he is to meet a fight.

It is love, of the sort she has grown to be grateful for, and it is that and fear of losing it besides, that rushes her out from their chambers and down the polished steps, out to the great hall and past the giant outer doors, cursing a lousy servant or five and ordering a bath and commissioning supper and refreshments as she goes. The torch flames bend from her flight, a whoosh and a shadow stalking Alnwick Castle’s stone passageways until the gray light of evening pours into her sight from the opened great doors. Squires and stable boys clutter her path but they part as she dashes, nay, only a dignified hasten now, out into the courtyard where nearly all of this fool’s troup have dismounted.

There are doffed helms to the Lady Percy, the jangle of chain mail crinkling with bows and scraps of deference all around them, but she sees only him, with mist dripping on his nose and a face too boyish for the insolence he has returned from discharging.

“Kate.” he utters.

Will ever he say her name lazily? She hopes not, for that alone she will endure the unwarranted cheerfulness with which he greets her on this dire occasion. She has heard it said in anger, in jest and in passion, vows and quips, praise and warning. And now in cheerful pleasure as evening mist soaks her gown and the heavy clunk of her husband's footsteps clang ever near her on the paving stones.

“Lord husband.” she greets, hands folded over her freshly healed womb.

His stride falters and he rocks back on his spurred heels, an arms length away, an embrace so tangible she can see his jaw tick from the watering of his mouth. “Lord husband is it?” he repeats thoughtfully, eyes drifting down to the paving stones for a brief moment as if to recollect some forgotten crime, they flick up soon and in them is jesting scrutiny, “My lady wife rushed all this way, down five corridors and a furlong of Keep only to greet me thus?”

Did her rising breath betray her eagerness? Could he see her in the hall despite his business dismounting?

“Your cheeks are red.” he shows her mercy, some form of it. His form. “But -Lord husband, it is, nevertheless?”

“Unless you would prefer ought else?” she inquires, he had once thought this smile quite chilling, he had admitted after their first babe, now he finds it rousing, he has admitted after their third.

“If it please you.” his shifting stance is noisy, his tabard and sword and still clutched helm a racket of accouterments in the pattering rain.

“I have any number to offer,” she concedes, stepping nearer, a lady’s step, covering one third of the ground between them that he might vanquish in a single stride. Still, he waits. “Knucklehead.” she whispers, her breath a fog and her insult as lost as vapor in the ears of his watching men, her bearing alone must satisfy their curiosity, as must his growing smirk and rising color, “Jackenape.” Another step until each little scar on his face is visible and the little canyons each raindrop make of them. She saw his finger twitching where it grasped his visor “Cur.”

There was the slightest flinch between his brows at that, a furrow that smoothed as his mirthful lips flattened out. “Careful now, lady wife, with words like Kerr* thrown about, my men might think you presumptuous, their lady gone and married to some other, a Scottish laird at that. So sure of my death already, sweet Kate, that you must speak of Kerrs in mine own yard? Ha, ‘pon my word you are qu-“

“Hush!” Her hand, fresh warmed as it was by recent hearthside and rich velvets pressed frimly to his lips, a tingle shooting straight to her toes at touching him at last. He was silent then, only the puff of breath against her fast chilling fingertips. “Tease me not so,” she begged, her own mirth gone out in her eyes, her arch look turned to grief, “not when you are just returned from an errand all but ensuring such an end. It is too cruel, even of you. Handle me kindly, Percy, as you always have, in words this time, if not in embrace.”

He seemed to ponder this before raising that hand not occupied with his helm, clumsy and clad in gauntlet as it was, to her wrist, wrapping the chilled and layered steel round her pale flesh and gently tugging her hand from his lips, only so far as to press it to his cheek instead, their audience of men at arms unheeded. “I betook myself to London,” he enunciated, as if it were their first night all over again and his thick borderland drawl too strong for her courtly ears to decipher, “to remind a king of his debts.”

“And tell me!” she cried fiercely, a choked, barely quieted protest as her hands dug into the wet leather of his jerkin, wrist twisted from the steel grasp, “What errand is that but a fool’s? Have you no fear at all left in this bruised carcass? Do I patch up an animated corpse time and again from your wars only for it never to have soul and feeling and wisdom in it? Do I, Harry? Gone to remind a king? How do you dare such?”

“It is he who has dared too much!” he cried back, loudly where her’s had been choked, a ringing and rebauld defense, worthy of a man who would chastise his monarch in full view of council. “First his debts, and now my son’s land! We did not make children so as to watch like blithe cowards as their birthright is bequeathed out from under our feet -piecemeal!- to a courtly cunt whose only recommendation is his alacrity to pucker and bow.”

Kate glanced about her at the men making show of industry, piddling at harnesses and armaments, walking horses in circles. Her husband's words could be no worse than what he had said to the King’s own face, anyone without stomach to become a rebel would have stayed behind in the Capitol, sensing dissension brewing. Lady Percy could perceive none missing from his number. So, a war it was to be, then.

“So, a new generation of Percys is to play at kingmaking.” she summarized.

“We make no boast of it.” Harry protested in turn.

“No,” said she, “why would you with how poorly your last choice has served you?”

That caused a start from him, a step forward that was neither gallant nor eager but angry as man to man. Kate, still with hands fisted in the crooks of his armor, stepped with him, backwards to his hall. “It is your brother with the better claim.” he showed his plan at last, a slow and conniving admission, one not common for his brash ways and straightforward mind.

Kate gasped at the implication. “Edmund?”

“He was proper heir, all along.”

“Your father-“ she chose her wording carefully, “-did not agree.”

“My father’s preference is not law.”

“It is mistaken for such, often.” Kate smirked in reply. “And Edmund is not suited-“

“-Edmund is not the turd now stealing from his vassals!” her Harry rejoined, his helmet pressed to her chest, “Edmund will do.” he reiterated once more.

Kate stared at his temper, the signs of it in his flaring nose and his wild eyes, the cure was between her thighs but watching mist drops fall from unblinking lashes was sweet prelude indeed. “Edmund,” she replied quietly and in a manner to be heeded, “is not willing or suited, he prefers instead to listen to welsh bards and lay upon the lap of his savage wife.”

Her Harry rolled his eyes at her truth, an admission, or the closest to one, she would ever receive. As if battling some great inner turmoil she watched him purse his lips and heave out a sigh before in a sudden movement the helm was tossed to the ground -much to the scramble and reaction of a half a dozen squires who ran to pick it up from its puddle- and suddenly steel hands were upon her hips, tugging her near to him even as she shied away, her face turned in a pantomime of demureness. “Strange,” he said and his tone suggested he still pondered her report of her brother's amorous preoccupations, “-and her lap so less Devine than mine own wife’s.”

“Then why do you haste from it so often?” she whined, delivering a smack against his belted tabard, right where the lions paraded across his right breast.

“Only a man dying of thirst appreciates that water has a flavor.” he reasoned and Kate allowed the open mouthed kisses that crept down her neck, her face turned stubbornly still to the south wall. The blacksmith's roof will be in need of new thatching soon, before spring. Before war.

She feels stubble against her tender skin, bracketing those pretty lips she once derided him for. No warrior ought to have lips like that, it was not seemly, not when maidens were denied such richness, such fullness, such rosy hue. But there is roughness about his lips and on his jaw as it tucks into the juncture at her shoulder, that show of clavicle her dress allows drawing him in like a siren’s song. He must’ve rode hard the entire way, no inns or refreshment, no shaving or baths, straight to her as from a battlefield. The King’s city is just as loathsome as any field of carnage, but he went to free her brother, to get a ransom, to reclaim their stolen land, to remind a king.

He did it for her, and the babes she gave him.

Kate turns her face from the blacksmith's thatch and raises her hand to his face, tenderly stroking the three days' beard that's grown as he's been on the road, riding hard to get to her. They have backed nearly to the hall’s mouth, the drip of rain off the gutter patters behind her on the threshold, Kate knows he can smell supper and hear the clatter of their children racing to meet him on still chubby legs. How different is the love of home, man to woman, Harry would sooner fight for it and she would cower within. Her thumb swipes at the raindrops making farce of tears upon his cheek.

"Princess," he breathes against her palm as he crushes her into his chest, still half armored and agonized for it as he cannot feel her softness with the cuirass, the leather, the chainmail. There are curves and bosoms and soft flesh he knows too well just on the other side of this awful barrier.

Princess will be her title if his treason succeeds, if her brother wears that cursed crown. “Princess”. It sours her mouth, but it is kind of him to wish it for her.

"You will come back, Harry.” she commands of him, she declares the outcome of this brewing war, “Soaked in the blood of feckless scum, you will come back and put another babe in me. A little prince or princess," she hisses in his ear, and she can tell he freezes at that, her concession to his treason, still as stone in his metal casings.

His eyes are ever so blue as they search hers.

"So I forbid any recklessness, my Lord Husband. Because I want this - " and her hand slips beneath his jerkin and the hem of mail to squeeze his cockstand most assuredly, as assuredly as she was that he would be sporting one for her, gripping it as one might grasp a chalice of wine during a toast "- and the rest of you, in one piece." Harry slumps against her shoulder, panting into the chilled hair and too heavy for her little frame. "Or so help me God." she intones, sharper than any steel he wields. "Swear it, Harry." She gives him another punishing squeeze, and he groans, agonized, as his mouth meets with the softness of her bound bosom, his knees the hardness of the stone cobbles. If she hadn't promised a use for his cock, he'd think she was liable to geld him herself at his presumption to seat and unseat a king, but now that he is out of her grip, for a moment, and looks up at her with such longing he fears his soul has left his chest for hers.

"So help me God." he agrees, it is in providence’s hands, after all, and in Kate’s clasped one’s atop his head.

“Fool.” she says once more as she bends over him, gently pressing a hand to the back of his head, pressing his face to her belly and her chilled fingers to his sopping hair, “It is not my brother these men fight for, nor for me. Not when it is you that calls them to it.”

“For what then?” He mumbles into her womb, hands heavy on her hips, the courtyard’s occupants dispersed into the shadows of the eaves, but a couple dozen peering eyes twinkle towards them in the twilight’s gloom.

“How often have I heard it said here, in this very courtyard.” Kate scoffs, observing the strength knelt so adoringly before her, “Have I dreamed each cry of ‘no prince save he be a Percy?’ Ha, to think they fight for a Mortimer, indeed. Ha!”

Harry staggers to his feet at this poke, it is, as are so many of his Kate’s wounds, half torment, half praise. His blood pounds with the elixir of her acknowledgment of his capability. “It is well then, Kate Mortimer,” he recites, daring now to put his lips very near her own, to nuzzle his strong nose with her hawkish one, to tip a chin and bat an eyelash against her wet cheek, “it is well that you are Percy now yourself, through and through, wed-“ his lips meet hers in a brush she chases after, “-and bred.”

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

Hope all five of you who read that enjoyed it. 😆 I know it’s a fragment but as I’m nothing but hyper fixated when some interests resurrects in me, I’ll probably be back with more of them. Drop a note below if you’d like to be on a taglist for such developments.

#rpf #Shakespeare fanfiction #Shakespeare characters #but also #the middle ages #medieval #medieval history #the hollow crown #Kate Percy #Kate Mortimer #edmund mortimer #Henry Hotspur Percy #Harry Hotspur Percy #war of the roses #henry percy #Richard ii #gonna go ahead and tag this as #tom glynn carney #as he was faceclaim #the king 2019 #Tom Glynn Carney Fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #northumbria #joe armstrong #michelle dockery #period drama

[mermaidsirennikita]

What's your theory on what's going on with Kate or do you not care enough to have one?

I mean, I've had a pretty solid theory since the day they announced she had abdominal surgery and she wouldn't be back until after Easter.

(I notice that a lot of people who are new to this versus true to this think the Royals have said this and meant "she'll be back on Easter". OH NO MON AMI. If they had her LOCKED DOWN for Easter, we'd know at this point. They would've announced it.)

Is it possible that this is all a part of a divorce play by her (and William is trying to get her to stay) or William (and Kate is doing a Gone Girl type move where she's basically refusing to cooperate)? Yes. I am more open to that than I once was.

However, I say:

--This family is not as divorce-averse as people think, lmao. I see people go "but the Church of England" okay but like... the King.... is divorced... He divorced the most famous woman... maybe ever. And shit got better for him after they stopped twiddling their thumbs and did it. The royal family knows that it is ultimately better to just call it than to try and make someone stay. Anne is divorced, Creepy Uncle is divorced. It's not as taboo as I think some people feel, so if she's leaving... why concoct this story to keep her in the game?

And like, I do think William has SOMETHING WRONG WITH HIM... because no sane individual would attempt to handle this as he has been, and it is HIM, Kensington Palace is HIM, and Charles's office seems to be very hands-off about all this. But idk, being like "my wife had abdominal surgery" to hide her leaving you is a bit... much.

--Then we go to "he's divorcing her"/"has cheated one too many times" and she's in hiding. First off, adorable if people think Rose is the only one he's fucked with in this 20+ year relationship. I think there are probably MANY issues with that marriage aside from cheating, but Kate is not Diana. Kate was with William for a long time, during which I'm sure he cheated, before they married. She knew what she was signing up for. Is it harder than she thought? Probably. But I don't think she'd pull something like this over cheating, because the man ain't gonna stop so it's like... leave him or not.

But then on William's side... I don't know, dude. Yes, Charles really wanted to be with Camilla. I don't think it's as romantic a story as people think, but there got to be a point where if Charles was going to be with Camilla, he needed to marry her, and Diana didn't want to be queen anymore, so they just... divorced. I don't buy that William is attempting to force an unwilling Kate out of the picture to marry Rose. I think that if William wanted to be with Rose and Kate didn't want to leave, he'd simply have Rose as a mistress, as many royals before him have. And then, where's the logic of this man replacing Kate with Rose, but also trying to make everyone believe he's a good father and husband with this "William took the photo of Kate and the kids" bullshit?

So while I know some viewed the random article(s) about Rose as "soft-launching the mistress"... I did not. I saw it as warning shots from the media. They're not very happy with Wills; they know shit; here's a random article about a totally random lady they know nothing about besides her being a random marchioness who looks like Kate, who lives near William and Kate, who used to be friends with Kate but isn't anymore...........

--I also just think the idea of her being perfectly well in hiding is kind of ridiculous. Because I just feel like... unless she's in a basement somewhere, someone has to have seen her in all this time. If she's well??? And can walk about???? You're telling me she's either never left some house or has and someone hasn't seen her? Even Princess Charlene had to make up some bullshit about why she was in South Africa for weeks when she tried to escape that one time. (I wish more KateGate people would read about THAT story.)

If they're not divorcing, what is it?

If that woman could appear in a short little outing, not even speaking, maybe in a wheelchair, and look well enough... They would have her out there. It is INSANE TO ME that people think a family that regularly shopped Diana around at events, knowing she was self harming and binging and purging and throwing herself down the stairs while pregnant, that ignored how increasingly upset and mentally unwell Meghan was (while pregnant)... would just let Kate sit back when the world thinks William has like, chopped her up into little pieces and put her in a fridge.

I'm not even saying an engagement! I'm saying a quick "here's William pushing Kate around the garden", "here's Kate sitting and watching her kids play in the yard, VERY clear VIDEO FOOTAGE (because they've fucked it all up, nobody believes still images of her anymore, I don't buy that the woman in the pic in her mom's car was her 100%, and I think the most recent pic without her face in it is probably an old one being shopped as new) is needed. And they're not making it happen.

And I don't think it's because they won't. I think it's because they CANNOT. Like, if she was okay, I do tend to feel like Charles might actually make her show the fuck up, but I don't think she is and it's on William to handle it. (And William fucking up kind of benefits Charles, because they are always in competition. "Charles has cancer that's why he's not doing it" Charles is not only... Charles. He is Camilla and their entire office.)

So. I think she is either incredibly unwell mentally, or incredibly unwell physically--beyond what they've implied. I think there's probably some truth to what the Spanish press has reported about her health. I feel like something probably happened around December 28, and she is having a hard time.

And why not just SAY THAT?

Because a) this is a very old-fashioned ableist family that treats issues that have to do with mental and physical health with shame, and I mean, they have literally locked members of the family they find unwell away before, and if you look at what they did to Diana beyond what The Crown even showed... this is not very off b) William is a disaster who thinks he knows everything and both uses the press and truly hates it, OR SO I GUESS NOT KNOWING HIM AT ALL and his PR strategy has never been good so once confronted with a genuine crisis he's flailing c) of WHAT CAUSED this incident.

Did increasingly horrible conditions in that family and in her marriage cause Kate to do something? (I don't know why people would think this is crazy when her mother-in-law literally discussed passive suicide attempts and constant suicidal thinking, though I suppose the Windsors have recently made a lot of headway with their "Diana did it all because she was crazy" versus "Diana did it because we drove her crazy" press tour.) Did someone hurt her? Did she have unhealthy habits exacerbated by the royal life that led to medical complications? I don't know.

And I also think it's possible that they're hoping they can get her back to "peak condition" if they have enough time, and it's possible that simply won't happen. No matter what does happen, though, I can tell you that there is no way they can get their way out of this looking the way they did before.

Anyway, I've been on this train since literally day 1 and everything they're doing just makes me feel increasingly correct, so. The press is starting to turn. The New York Post (a Murdoch rag, which therefore SHOULD support them) started doing write ups about how her health may be much worse than they've let on. It's not good.

Disclaimer: theories theories theories speculation speculation alleged alleged

#like again i dislike kate but her kids didn't do anything to deserve the trauma of their mom being seriously unwell #so genuinely HOPE this is just a divorce thing #that is like... the best case scenario it's beginning to feel like #but idk those ghouls always have me thinking the worst

[gunterfan1992]

Episode Review: "Destiny"/"The Winter King" (Fionna & Cake, Eps. 5–6)

Airdate: September 14, 2023

Story by: Anthony Burch, Adam Muto, Hanna K. Nyström, Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang

Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Jacob Winkler, Sonja von Marensdorff

Directed by: Ryann Shannon (supervising), Hans Tseng (art)

One of my favorite moments from Adventure Time comes at the very end of season four's "The Lich" when we are introduced to "Farmworld" for the first time. When the episode aired, this reveal was positively huge, adding as it did a brand new reality to the already complex world of Ooo. The show would go on to expand our understanding of Farmworld in the season five premiere "Finn the Human"/"Jake the Dog" and the season seven episode "Crossover," but even with all those episodes, I never could shake the feeling that there was so much more the series could have done with Farmworld. You can thus imagine my surprise when I learned that Fionna and Cake of all people would be journeying to this strangely normal alternate dimension!

"Destiny" picks up with Fionna, Cake, and Simon landing in Farmworld, roughly 10 or so years after the events of "Crossover." Following the destruction of the Farmworld crown, things returned to their (post-apocalyptic) normalcy, and Ice-Finn (or, as the people in Farmworld call him, "The Snow Man") has grown into a strapping Man-Finn who is busy raising three children (his wife, it seems, has died). One of Finn's kids, Jay, overhears Fionna, Cake, and Simon asking around about the Farmworld crown, and so he steals them away to meet his father. Once Man-Finn discovers what it is Simon and Co. seek, however, he bids them to leave. Going against his father's wishes, Jay sneaks Fionna, Cake, and Simon to the crater where the Farmworld Bomb had detonated, where they all discover the charred remnants of the crown. At this point, Jay reveals that previously when visiting the crater, he had discovered one of the crown's jewels. The final act of the episode is a sees Fionna, Cake, Simon, Man-Finn, and Jay square off against the Destiny Gang and Scarab, who we learn has been trailing our heroes this whole time. After securing the jewel from Big D's turncoat daughter, Simon fuses it with Prismo's remote, zapping himself, Fionna and Cake to another reality just as Scarab stabs(?!) Man-Finn in the head.

First and foremost, I must stress that "Destiny" feels very much like an episode of the "original" Adventure Time. This is likely a result of the Farmworld setting: as a world, it is overflowing with an absurdist energy and out-there characters (e.g., Big D!) that I intimately associate with the adventures of Finn and Jake. And let me know emphatically state: This is not a bad thing. Not at all. I love how the producers have been able to weave the Adventure Time "feel" into something new. It is like meeting an old friend after a long time apart (only for that old friend to get stabbed in the head by a space-god).

OK, but seriously… did Farmworld Finn die? I hope note. If he did, that would mean that Jay's actions were directly responsible for his father getting killed. That's pretty dark. And considering all the bad dads in the Oooniverse, it would be nice if one of the good ones was allowed to live a (relatively) happy life.

Airdate: September 14, 2023

Story by: Anthony Burch, Adam Muto, Hanna K. Nyström, Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang

Storyboarded by: Iggy Craig, Graham Falk, Jim Campbell, Lucyola Langi, Nicole Rodriguez

Directed by: Steve Wolfhard (supervising), Hans Tseng (art)

After zapping away from Farmworld, Simon, Fionna, and Cake teleport to a reality ruled by the "Ice Prince"—an alt-universe Simon Petrikov who has somehow managed to avoid the madness that plagued Ice King. Simon quickly tells his fellow Petrikov the group's goals, and the Ice Prince gallantly agrees to help them by duplicating his own crown. Things are going swimmingly until the evil "Candy Queen" swoops in and snatches away both Simon and the Ice Prince. Fionna, Cake, and Ice Prince's guards dart to their rescue, brutally (but humorously) massacring dozens of hideously mutated candy citizens. Fionna and Cake rescue Simon and the Ice Prince, but once Fionna and Ice Prince share a kiss, the awful truth is revealed: Ice Prince is not some gentleman who overcame the madness of the crown through sheer will. No, he was a self-centered "wad" who used magic to deflect his madness onto the poor Candy Queen… who, as we quickly learn, is just an alternate universe version of Princess Bubblegum. Thanks to fairy tale logic, Fionna's kiss breaks Ice Prince's magic spell, which causes his crown to lose power. He subsequently crumbles to dust and everything he has created melts away.

So far, of the episodes we've gotten, I think "The Winter King" has been my favorite, largely because of the way it explores Simon's psychological character.

One thing that made Ice King’s story so tragic was how Simon, in his original form, was fundamentally a good person, buried deep within the mind of an outwardly "evil" wizard. "The Winter King" neatly conveys the opposite of this situation by showing us an Alt-Simon who, while outwardly "good," had long ago squandered his sense of morality for selfish gain. Not to get too analytical, but all of the good/bad talk reminds me of what the psychologist Carl Jung called the "Shadow." Put in simplest terms, the Shadow is a part of the unconscious human psyche in which repressed, rejected, or unrecognized aspects of the Self are contained, far from the light of conscious thought. The Shadow tends to seal away attributes of the Self that we wish to downplay or dismiss, making it "the home of the suppressed monsters of our inner world," in which "the energy of [our] dark side" bubbles (to quote Christopher Vogler). Furthermore, the Shadow exists as the inverse of our conscious Ego (meaning that, as Jung put it, "when one tries desperately to be good and wonderful and perfect, then all the more the shadow develops a definite will to be black and evil and destructive"). And because it is unconscious, the Shadow eludes easy detection. Nevertheless, its contents can often be ascertained by keeping an eye out for psychological “projection,” wherein a person denies their own foibles and instead recognizes those defects in others.

Now consider this topic in relation to "The Winter King." Let us start with Ice King, a hyperbolically crazy and "evil" wizard. I would argue that Ice King is a textbook of Simon's Shadow made manifest: He is everything that Simon consciously does not want to be brought to the surface in its entirety. The tragedy of Simon is that, while he doesn't often talk about it, he knows deep down that Ice King, while corrupted and warped by the crown, was an aspect of himself. In fact, this entire series feels very much like Simon’s journey to fully recognize his own Shadow.* And the fact that he starting to do this despite it being a painful process is, in my opinion, the clearest evidence of his ethical/moral character. Conversely, Alt-Simon is not like this. When presented with his Shadow, he does not choose to begin the painful recognition process. Instead, he projects it onto an innocent person; he builds up an elaborate "nice king" persona while literally condemning someone for his own sins. It is important to note that psychological projection is a pretty normal occurrence and thus not a surefire marker of "evil" or anything like that. What makes this instance of projection so bad is that Alt-Simon does this fully aware that it will cause someone to suffer for crimes they did not commit. Alt-Simon is like the "pious" archbishop who burns the "evil witches" at the stake all because he cannot come to terms with his own inner demons.

Now that is messed up!

But you know what isn't messed up? The voice acting in this episode. I do not say this to be hyperbolic: "The Winter King" may very well be Hynden Walch's finest performance to date. Her take on the Candy Queen is truly horrifying in a decidedly blursed way. So fundamentally different is her performance that at first I thought it was someone else! Also stealing the spotlight in this episode is Brian David Gilbert, erstwhile writer for Polygon and maker of many a wacky YouTube video. Gilbert's Ice Prince exudes the perfect amount of over-the-top flamboyance and faux chivalry. Both Walch and Gilbert get a song apiece in this episode, and both do a stellar job. (As an aside, have we ever had a true-blue PB song? Does the Candy Queen's song count?)

Oh, and as a quick aside: "The Winter King" features a few short scenes set in Fionna's non-magical world that follow Marshall Lee and Gary Prince as the latter tries to bake something that will earn him greater renown. Going into these scenes, I thought I would have found them a bit dull, but they were quite endearing. It's obvious that these scenes are a way for us to explore how Marceline and Bubblegum got to know one another, but from the parallax angle of a genderbent world, and I am here for it!

Final "Destiny" Grade: A

Final "The Winter King Grade": A

* My Prediction: Simon will attempt to become the Ice King, only to realize that a full-on transformation is not just necessary but ultimately dangerous. Recognizing one's Shadow does not mean you become synonymous with; it simply means that you know it's there.

#adventure time #atimers #fionna and cake #fionna campbell #cake the cat #simon #simon petrikov #ice prince #candy queen #princess bubblegu

[caroldantops]

heart, body, and soul

ship: valkyrie x reader

summary/request: you come back from a trip and your king gives you the welcome home you deserve. 

word count: 1.4k

warnings: smut (18+ only), vaginal sex (reader receiving), strap-ons, dirty talk, pet names (my queen, teasing use of housewife), light daddy kink, mentions of oral on a strap, squirting 

masterlist | ao3 link

You flinch as your hand comes in contact with the ice cold water, grumbling to yourself about how slow the water heater is. Normally, you don't let the dishes stack up in the sink this much, but it seems since you were away for a couple of days visiting Kate, your beloved wife hasn't touched them.

Not that you expected her to. Or even wanted her to. Being the King of Asgard left little room in her brain for menial chores (though, you're pretty sure she never did them before anyway). You were more than happy to play the part of Valkyrie's little housewife.

Almost as if your thoughts about her bad eating habits summoned her, the heavy wooden door swings open. You don't look up from the plate you're scrubbing, simply offering a, "Hello, your majesty."

"That's all I get, huh?" Valkyrie feigns disappointment. "Spend all week without me and you're not jumping into my arms the second I step in the door? Even the King gets no respect around here."

"Maybe if I didn't have to scrub all your dirty dishes, I could've run to you like a lovesick housewife," you laugh when her heavy footsteps are followed by her arms wrapping around your body, peppering kisses into the space between your neck and shoulder.

"Fair point. And besides, you are a gorgeous little housewife," Valkyrie hums into your ear, places a gentle kiss behind it. "Missed you, bug."

"Missed you, too."

You send Val away to change into something comfier than her beautifully tailored suit while you finish up. She joins you on the couch once she's done, jumping over the back of it like she always does. She laughs at the squeak you let out before pulling you into her lap, hands resting on your hips while your hands come up to cup her face.

As wonderful as seeing her in all of her suits is, you're truly obsessed with her casual wear. Today's choice is a faded sweatshirt from a bookstore that you frequented in college - Val is always stealing your things - and basketball shorts that she's worn so much the elastic is starting to give.

"How was your meeting? You didn't break the door when you came in so I assume that's a good sign."

"Pretty standard stuff today. I was pretty distracted though."

"Oh?" You quirk your eyebrow up at her as you feel her hands start edging along the waistband of your leggings. "Thinking about Thor visiting next week?"

"No, I was thinking about a different eager puppy, actually." Val kisses you, leading a trail down to your neck with her lips. She grabs your ass roughly as she mumbles against your skin, "Was countin' the minutes until I could come home to see my queen."

You bite your lip as she continues to grope you, your hips lurching forward so you can feel the distinct bulge in her shorts.

"Nothing's better than comin' home and having the first thing I see be this sweet ass in these fuckin' leggings. You drive me crazy, I swear I just wanna..." The sharp sound of fabric tearing fills the room, and your mouth hangs open in shock. "...rip 'em open."

"Val! Those were expensive!"

"Oh, baby, I'll buy you new ones. I'll buy you as many as I tear through, plus extras so I can rip those open too. Besides," she hums as she opens the tear more and strokes her fingertips against your bare cunt. "If they didn't want me to tear 'em, they should've made 'em a bit stronger."

The snarky comment dies in your throat as she pushes into you with two fingers, fluttering them as your walls tighten around her. She starts making a comment about how wet you are already, but you cut her off by pushing your lips against hers, moaning into her mouth the way you know drives her crazy.

You’re embarrassingly on edge much faster than you’d like to admit (you blame the fact that you’ve been without Val for almost a week, and when the two of you were together you were both insatiable), but Valkyrie doesn’t let you have that release so easily. She curls her fingers against your sweet spot once more before removing them from your pussy with a wet noise. She gives you that loving, mischievous grin as she holds her fingers up to your face, and you immediately know what she wants. You give them a little kitten lick before wrapping your lips around them, groaning as you taste yourself.

“‘You make it so hard to decide which hole of yours I wanna fill,” Val says with much more tenderness than that comment warrants. “As much as I wanna make you gag-” She thrusts hard into your mouth as she says it, reveling in the way you choke on her fingers. “-on my cock, I need to be inside that tight cunt so fucking bad.”

“P’ease,” you mumble around her.

“Yeah?” Her fingers leave your mouth, and the toy between her legs hits your thighs as she tugs down her shorts just enough so she can free it. “You want this huh? Want this big cock inside you? C’mon, tell Daddy.”

“Please, daddy, please.” You grind your hips against the tip of the toy that she’s holding right against your entrance. “Need it.”

“Need it? So dramatic, love. Well, if you need it, it’d be cruel of me to make you wait much longer, huh?” Valkyrie laughs at your fervent nodding that quickly turns into a gasp as she pulls you down flush against her lap, settling her strap deep inside you. She picked the thick one, the one with realistic veins that feel oh so delectable when you squeeze around the toy.

You press your face into her neck, inhaling deeply as she starts to guide your hips up and down on her cock. The scent of her cologne fills your head, the woody smell reminds you of that camping trip she took you on last fall. The one where she gave you the beautifully crafted ring around your finger. Val notices your whimpers against her skin and you feel her shake with laughter.

“My baby’s so pathetic, aren’t they? Whining against me, just begging for Daddy to fill them up. Bet you thought about this the whole time you were gone, didn’t you? Thought about me stretchin’ you out?”

“Yes, yes,” you groan, clutching onto her like your life depends on it. You hardly have to do any of the work, she just guides you up and down along her strap. If she wasn’t wearing the sweatshirt, you’d be able to properly admire the way her biceps flex as she does so. But there’s plenty of time for that later. For now, you savor being used like a sweet whiney toy.

“Good baby. So fuckin’ good.” She pushes you back a bit so she can properly see the way her cock fills you up, the opening she ripped in your leggings framing her view of your dripping cunt like artwork. “Gods, look at that cunt. Soaked. Swallowing me up like I’m nothing. And this pretty clit too.”

Her fingers spread your lips so she can properly admire how swollen your clit is, thumbing over it and admiring the way you jerk when she does. While she plays with the sensitive bud, you grind yourself down in her lap, each movement dragging the toy against your walls in the most delicious way possible. Your body shakes with pleasure as you feel your climax quickly building.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, baby. I swear every time I fuck you, it’s like I’ve died and gone to Valhalla. Want you to cum for me, c’mon. Wanna see those pretty eyes roll back, wanna see that sweet head of yours go empty,” Valkyrie presses kisses along your jaw as you moan out incoherent phrases that sound vaguely like fuckDaddypleaseyespleasegonnacum. A gush of liquid erupts around Val’s strap as you cum, and she moans at the feeling of you squirting against her. “Fuck! That’s it, that’s my baby. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

You go limp against her, cock still nestled inside of you, Val still whispering praises into your ear. Round two is sure to happen, but the two of you take a moment to enjoy each other’s presence, your breath hitting Val’s skin in heavy pants as she strokes your thighs. The material of your leggings is soaked with sweat and cum, and Valkyrie doesn’t fail to notice.

“Aw, bug, you ruined your expensive leggings!”

“Shut up.”

#valkyrie x reader #brunnhilde x reader #c: valkyrie #silver writes #fic #this is honestly so tame for me #have i written a non-dark fic in a while i feel like i haven't rlly

[meganlpie]

If You Must

Based on this request: May I request another Aragorn and reader fic? Could it be a little angsty (cause you know I’m trash for it) where Aragorn and reader have been friends for years and when he joins the fellowship he says his goodbyes, not knowing if he’ll return. Later, she is in Gondor and sees him at the final battle but it isn’t until his coronation that he finds her in the crowd. Sappy reunion and all is happy again :) from @iwillbeinmynest

Here you are, Lady Kate! I am so sorry for taking so long!

Warnings: Angst, platonic!fluff, mentions of battle.

Pairings: Platonic!Aragorn x platonic!fem reader

You couldn't look at him. You knew Aragorn didn't stay put for long, but this was too much. You knew he wasn't going to come back soon, if he came back at all. And you hated it. Aragorn was your best friend, your confidante. You told each other everything, but he waited until the very last minute before he left to say anything to you.

          You threw your arms around him and squeezed tightly. "I suppose you must go. You take care of yourself, my friend. You better come back," you warned. Aragorn hugged you close as he chuckled lowly. "I shall do my best." As you watched him mount his horse, you hoped his words wouldn't end up being a lie.

          Months passed as you waited for word about your dearest friend. Week after week, nothing came. No news about anything except the movement from Mordor. The longer you went without seeing or hearing from Aragorn, the more anxious you became. You felt like a wife waiting for her husband to return from a long journey. It was ridiculous for you to be so worried about the man! And the more you worried, the more determined you became to save Aragorn if necessary.

*time skip*

          Your muscles ached from the battle, but you pressed on in search of your friend. You knew he was there. He had been in Gondor. You'd seen him and heard him. You'd heard the speech he had given to the people fighting against the armies of Mordor. You had seen him, but soon lost sight of him in the fray. Now you were fighting for your life and the lives of all of Middle Earth.

          You tried your best to stay focused on your enemy, though you were slowly beginning to lose heart the longer it took to spot Aragorn again. Where was he? He had already survived so much. Surely he wasn't dead now. When you heard the sound of an arrow whistling right by your ear, you knew it was time to focus on your own life.

          The battle raged on for what felt like forever. Your body felt ready to give up, sore right down to your bones. Blood, grime, dirt, and who knew what else covered your armor, helm, and face. You were exhausted and nearly devoid of hope yet Sauron's forces kept coming, uncaring of your plight. So you continued on and on as you ignored your breaking body's cries to stop. And then, just before your legs gave out, the world went still.

          You sank to your knees on the ground, breathing heavily. It was over. The world was going to be safe. At least for the time being. As you heart calmed down, you let your gaze wander across the battlefield. You caught a brief glimpse of your friend. You tried to call out to him. But your voice would not carry over the din of cheers. You supposed you would have to wait to see Aragorn for a bit longer.

          In fact, it wasn't until a while later, after Frodo had healed completely that you actually saw Aragorn again. It seemed as though a lifetime had passed when Aragorn was finally crowned King. You watched from the crowd as the crown was placed upon his head. Even from so far away, you could see his confidence, but also his fear. His eyes scanned the crowd before stopping on you.

          You fought back a smile as your dearest friend pushed through the crowd to make his way to you. You sank into a curtsy only to earn a scoff from the now king. "I have missed you, Mellon." You replied that you missed him as well before he pulled you into a hug.          

"Will you remain in Gondor?" he asked you when he pulled away. You arched a brow in question. "I shall need an advisor and I trust no one more than you." You glanced over his shoulder and smiled upon seeing who was behind him. "I see. Not even your future queen?" Aragorn turned in confusion. You could practically feel him light up when he saw her. "I will be your advisor, if I must. Now, go to her." You beamed as Aragorn ran to Arwen and pulled her into a kiss. You had never been more happy for him than that moment. He had come into his own as a friend, a lover, and a king. You were simply happy to be a part of it.

(a/n: I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @aikibriarrose @lady-of-lies @motleymoose @esoltis280 @stories-by-shanna-p @dark-angel-is-back @supernatural4life2022

Tolkien Tags: @jotink78 @thealbersclan @evyiione @legolaslovely @justcallmecinammon @wingedlandwasteland

#tolkien #lord of the rings #aragorn #aragorn x reader #platonic fic