#sack-back gown

[empirearchives]

18th century dresses at Malmaison in France. Current exhibition from the Château de Bois-Préau: 1769, Corsica at the Birth of Napoleon Bonaparte

For several years, the National Museum of the House of Bonaparte in Ajaccio, Napoleon's birthplace where his family lived since the end of the 15th century, has been exploring with talent the history of Corsican society, the architecture of patrician houses, their furnishings and the art of living in Corsica in the 18th century.

For the first time, the synthesis of this work will be presented at the National Museum of châteaux des Malmaison and Bois-Préau on the ground floor of the newly restored Château de Bois-Préau.

[fripperiesandfobs]

Robe à la française ca. 1750

From Cora Ginsburg

[flowersandbigteeth]

What if there was a dance to find the (insert whatever monster) king's mate so they can produce a heir(and many more kids)

And a regular human reader attends for free food not believing they'll be picked from but turns out the king had a eye on reader the whole time

Ahhh! I adore this idea! Anything that has to do with food immediately has my support and any reader I write would be first in line at the buffet :D

Shadow King (Zintius) x female reader

Word Count: 2.5K

W: sfw monster fluff, kidnapping, some sfw forced stripping

You smoothed the pointy clay tips you’d glued to your ears to make you look like a pixie, before you slipped out of the bathroom and back into the ballroom. 

Around you Fairyfolk were gathered dressed to the nines, all covered in sequins and feathers to attract the eye of the Shadow King. No one paid any attention to you, as a human you were much too plain to compete with these otherworldly beauties. Sirens, fairies, lovely creatures you’d never even heard of before crowded the room, subtly elbowing each other in the ribs to be the first that the King laid eyes on as he descended the stairs. 

Your focus, however, was the buffet. As a human in Fairy, you were unpopular to say the least and would never be allowed in a place like this, but with a little bit of pheromone lifted off of a witch and some micah powder to make your skin glitter you’d made yourself up to pass as a pixie so you could pilfer the feast. I

t was a con you pulled often, though this was perhaps your most bold move yet. This was the King’s marriage ball. He was looking for a wife so only the richest, prettiest, and most affluent Fairyfolk in the land had gone to great expense to travel as far as the Realm of Shadow to seduce him. 

It didn’t matter that he was ten feet tall and mostly smoke and big teeth. He had power and that was beautiful. The realm of Light and the realm of Twilight feared him, declaring him their greatest enemy. He was known to be brutal and imperialistic, wanting to spread his darkness as far as the other two realms would allow. 

None of that concerned you, however. While their heads were all turned to watch the King descend the stairs, you were pulling a sack from underneath your stolen, stained ball gown and loading it full of croissants, cupcakes, and whatever else wasn’t too sticky to fit. It wasn’t the flashiest con, but you were just a human, you did what you could to get by and this one was easy. You got away every time and ate for a week if you rationed everything out. 

When you’d gotten all you could, you shoved the sack under your fluffy dress, one you’d stolen out of the trash pile of a seamstress’ shop, and blended back into the crowd. It would be suspicious if you bolted immediately, the guards were trained to watch for thieves who would do just that, so you had to stick around for at least another hour.

You’d slip out of the back, look a little drunk if anyone stopped you, find a quiet place and put on the stable boy outfit you also had hidden in your skirt and casually walk away looking like a servant carrying out the trash.  

In the meantime, your eyes drifted over the crowd, trying to figure out if you could pilfer any loose valuables while you were waiting…these rich people wouldn’t notice a few baubles missing. You didn’t even bother to look for the King, though you heard all the trumpets and fanfare announcing his arrival.

Your eye caught on a jewel encrusted fan sticking out of the back pocket of a handsome goblin. Like a cat, you honed in on your target, drifting closer and closer to the sparkling prize. 

“I throw a whole ball just for you and I can’t even catch your eye,” a rumbling voice boomed just as you raised your hand to snatch the fan. 

You whirled around, cheeks red, trying to look innocent, eyes widening as you took in the figure looming over you. The Shadow King looked down at you with six eyes glowing gold from the dark space that was his face. 

“Um…I…Um…what?” you stammered. 

A wide, white smile appeared on his face, no lips, only teeth. 

“Finally, you look at me,” he said. 

You instinctively took a step back, unsure what was happening. Was he confused? Was he teasing you? Surely this was some cruel joke because he’d caught you stealing, though you didn’t entirely understand it. 

“Come,” he said, holding out a large hand. Whirls of black smoke drifted up off of it. The whole room was looking at you with obvious hostility, so you shakily took his hand, unsure what else to do. Your heart was hammering in your chest. The one rule of conning was commit to the bit, you had to let this play out, but what was happening?

He led you to the center of the room and music began. Your mouth fell open as he put one hand on your hip and with the other he clasped your hand and you started to dance. You had no idea how to dance, so you simply stumbled over his feet. He chuckled, revealing his white teeth again and lifted you up a bit, depositing your feet on top of his. 

“Here, like this,” he said, before swinging you around the ballroom to the music. The guests blurred around you as he spun across the shiny marble floor. 

His six eyes, all with different colored irises blinked down at you with utter fascination. He remembered the first time he saw you at some silly party he’d been compelled to attend. You’d done quite a good job hiding you were human only, as he’d wandered onto the terrace to get some air, he’d looked down to see you undressing. He’d watched in fascination as you’d unloaded a sack full of food and a handful of valuables, before peeling off your dress, plucking the tips from your ears and hurriedly disguising yourself like a servant boy with some pants and a low cap. 

He’d snuck off, following you, curious about your life and where you were going. Humans were all but extinct in Fairy, the fact that you were alive at all was a bit remarkable. Hiding as a cloud of smoke in the shadows he watched you dangling your feet over the dock watching the boats on the river while you munched on your ill gotten gains.

It was impossible to keep his eyes off of your plump lips as you chewed and your pretty hands as you wiped crumbs from your cheeks. His heart had dropped when he’d watched you curl up in a barrel near where they dumped the trash, your head resting on your bag of pastries to sleep. 

After that he’d used his own disguises to move through the nobility. It would be obnoxious if the king came to every party, but transforming himself into an unassuming orc nobleman, he eagerly waited for your arrival at every flashy party in the capital. He found your disguise rather clever and the way you slipped in and out, making yourself unseen despite how beautiful you were, very impressive.

It stunned him how well you could read your marks. You followed the cadence of the room, striking just when someone was distracted with new love or jealousy. Too wrapped up in their own drama to even care that whatever they lost was missing. 

He never bothered you, afraid to disturb what seemed to be your main source of food and income. That is until he set this little trap to catch you. 

“How long I’ve waited to have you in my arms,” he purred at you. 

You blinked your eyes at him. 

“You have?” you gasped, “are…are you sure you’re not mistaking me for someone else?” 

He just shook his head, the song ending. You were aware the entire room was looking at you with a mix of disgust and envy. As the next song began and some partners filled the dance floor a plucky witch dared to shoot her shot at the King, sure she could easily pull his attention from you. You almost let out a relieved sigh when you saw her approaching. She was a perfect excuse to make your escape and pretty enough to probably succeed. 

Only when she reached you he waved her away. 

“I’m busy,” he growled before she could even open her mouth and your hope scurried away. 

“Let’s go somewhere more private, pet,” he said, scooping you up in his arms to the dismay of you and the entire room and the two of you disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

You immediately panicked when you realized where you were, struggling in his arms. They were impossibly strong for appearing to be made of nothing but black mist. He’d brought you to his bedroom. You could only assume it was his bedroom because it was the nicest one you’d ever been in. The walls were draped in glittering gold fabric and jewel encrusted weapons humming with power were mounted where they parted.

“Shhh, shhh,” he shushed you, snapping his fingers and the cold fireplace lit bathing the room in warm light. 

The sudden sparks startled you still. In the glitter of firelight the shadow king’s black skin almost seemed to have a bit of a sparkle to it. Looking down on you and smiling again with his eerie Cheshire cat smile, he plucked the clay points from your ears. 

“You don’t need to hide from me, little human,” he said, “you’re perfectly safe…but you must tell me…I’ve been dying to know your name.” 

“Maurine,” you lied and he frowned at you, his smile inverting. 

“It’s not wise to lie to  me, pet,” he growled, his six eyes narrowing and the colors in them flashing. 

“(Y/N),” you squeaked. 

His mouth flipped again, creepily and he brushed your hair. 

“There’s no reason to lie, anyway,” he assured you, depositing you into a chair in front of the fire before he crossed the room to a pitcher of water and a bowl, “whatever petty problems you may have you can rely on me to solve them.”  

Wetting a rag he returned to scrub the micah from your cheeks that was giving you the pixie-like sheen. Pinching your cheeks with his shadowy fingers, he scrubbed until every bit of your disguise was off of you. From then on, Zintius wanted you to look like yourself. You’d never have to steal for a living again. He’d stuff you full of so many pastries you were plump and round. 

You gasped, surprised as his large hand slipped up your skirt and fished around, brushing your bare thigh. His smile got brighter as he retrieved the sack of food and the other bag of supplies you carried on you, pulling them from under it. 

Your eyes widened in horror as he tossed the bag with the food in it casually into the fireplace as if it weren’t your only source of sustenance for a week. You were almost afraid he was going to toss in your meager belongings, but he only rummaged around in them for the bottle of pheromone that apparently offended him. He was sure to toss that into the fireplace as well. 

When his eyes returned to you they were laser focused on the smelly dress you’d pulled from the garbage and you started to climb over the back of the chair to escape him. He was much too fast and much too big, yanking you back down. The sound of fabric ripping filled the room as he shredded the poor thing. 

“So lovely,” he gasped in his throat as he took in your body, bathed in golden light. It was so much more than when he’d imagined it. It had been impossible to see the appealing figure you’d been hiding under the ill fitting dress and boy’s clothes. 

Folding himself down to you as you squealed and shrank back into the chair, he breathed in your sweet scent, underneath the annoying pheromone you were wearing. He was much too impatient to wait to scrub you, reminding himself to tell the maids to take the bedding immediately in the morning when he got around to giving you a bath. The sooner he never had to smell that stuff again the better. 

Scooping you up, he hurried to the bed. 

“What are you doing?!” you snarled, beating your fists against his chest, which he conveniently made smoke when you struck him so your hands slipped right through. It was not a funny joke, but he found it very amusing, smiling down at you as he climbed across the spread with you in one arm. 

“I’m going to mate you,” he explained innocently. 

You gasped, scandalized. 

“Me!? But…but…mating is forever and I’m human! The goddess doesn’t make human mates. She hates humans!” 

He snorted. 

“The Goddess long ago betrayed me,” he snarled, “She cursed me to never have a Fairy mate, but I can and will have my own. You…I can feel it…perhaps the God of man blessed me just to spite her. I’ll never stop thanking him for his kindness, delivering a human angel to me. If he wants me to spend my life crusading against her creations, I will, if it means I can keep you.” 

You’d prayed to Adam, the God of man so many nights as you’d slept near the dock, wondering if his reach stretched all the way to Fairy. Only what you’d prayed for was that a stray portal would open up and you’d be taken back to Earth where you’d learned the rest of the humans lived, not this…but Gods were a fickle, spiteful bunch and sticking it to Freya by undermining her curse sounded like just the sort of thing Adam would do. 

The Shadow King practically purred at you, his smokey fingertips drifting over your bare skin as you cowered into the pillows. 

“I can be a good lover, pet,” he promised you, “I have the power to give you whatever you like. Do you want jewels? Castles? Servants to step all over?” 

You shook your head. 

“I-I don’t need all that,” you stammered, “I-I just…” 

You weren’t sure what you were trying to say. 

His eyes narrowed on you and you saw a sliver of tooth as he smirked at you. 

“Aren’t you just a little bit curious?” he asked, “don’t you want to know what it’s like not to scrabble in the dirt as you have your whole life? I’ve seen you sleeping in the cold trash, love, you never have to sleep on anything but the finest silk in front of a warm fireplace for the rest of your life. I watched the way your eyelashes fluttered as you woke, terrified of what had found you in the dark. You never have to be afraid to close your eyes again. All you have to do is give yourself to me.” 

The simple lure of a warm, safe bed was enough to break you and you nodded slowly. Pleased, his smile stretched to opposite ends of his face in a terrifying grin, his six eyes eating up your body now that you'd given him permission and glowing fiery gold. 

“You’ll never regret this (Y/N),” he assured you, as his fingers tore the frayed undergarments you were still wearing, “I promise you.”

[thedroneranger]

Tip of the Cap

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: A cowboy hat, a combination cap—if you wear either, you better be ready for the ride...

Note: Just a little smutty something that's been sitting in my WIPs half written. Finally finished it. ** high-five** I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 2.7k

A smile pulled your lips as you thought about how good Jake looked tonight. He could wear a potato sack, and he would still be the best-looking man you’d ever laid eyes on. However, you were an absolute sucker for him in uniform, and when he was in his dress whites, watch out. 

Jake still on the brain, you stood in front of the mirror, that hung over the dresser, and removed your jewelry. You were battling an earring when you made eye contact with him through the mirror. His gaze made you stand a little straighter. “Lieutenant,” you said with a half salute and cheeky smile. 

Still in full dress, including his combination cap, he sidled up behind you. “At ease.” He removed his hat and rested it on your head. Too big, it fell over your eyes. 

While you adjusted it, his hands came to your hips and his lips ghosted your jawline. You purred when he nipped the spot where your shoulder met your neck. By the time you got his cap just right, Jake was done teasing you and headed to the walk-in closet. 

You pouted at your reflection after he disappeared. Contemplating your next move, your eyes floated to the closet door one more time. You laid his hat on the dresser and began to unzip your dress. 

All evening, you had been waiting for this moment. Earlier, when you were getting ready for Jake’s ceremony, you had decided to wear lingerie under your gown. An after-event surprise you knew he would love.

This set, in particular, would definitely catch his attention. The last time you wore it, he had just returned from deployment. Before he left, you and your best friend had a wine night to take polaroids of you in it. A treat that you stuffed into Jake’s duffle for him to find later. Once he did, his only request was for you to model it when he got home. 

You kept an eye on the closet as you undressed. Headed for the bed, you spied his hat and decided to take it with you. Nestled among the pillows, you arranged yourself with your head resting in the crook of your elbow. With your free hand, you adjusted the hat one more time and waited.

Finally, Jake emerged from the closet. He was shirtless as he darted toward the ensuite bathroom. However, he did a double take and changed course when he saw you. “What is this?” He stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his thick chest and his eyes locked on you.

You let your fingers trail over the curve of your breasts, and then the lace covering your nipples, and finally down your bare stomach. “My uniform.” You tried not to smirk as you adjusted the too big hat. His lips quirked trying to restrain a smirk.

Jake unfolded his arms, placed a knee on the bed and climbed so he was hovering over you. He supported himself with a hand on either side of your head and his knee slotted between your thighs as you looked at each other. “I’m not sure you meet uniform standard,” he said. 

“Oh?” You cocked an eyebrow, and then looked between the two of you as you dragged an index finger down his chest, through his diastasis and dipped it into the waistband of his pants. “Enlighten me.” You met his gaze while you unzipped his trousers. A smirk pulled a corner of his mouth. 

His eyes glanced over you, and then he dropped his head to your chest, kissing the tops of your breasts. “No ribbons or insignias—minus four points.” He trailed kisses down your stomach. “No shirt—immediately discharged.”

Your body shook as you giggled. He pressed a kiss below your navel. “No belt—minus two points.” His lips grazed your skin. “No pants—you’re already discharged…” He looked at you as he trailed off. 

He sat back on his haunches and pulled one of your ankles to rest over his shoulder. You watched as his large palm traveled up your thigh, past your knee and gripped your shin. He pressed a kiss to your calf. His hand began its descent in the direction it had come. At the same time, you pressed your foot flat to his chest. He looked at it. “No shoes?” His lips quirked and his eyebrow cocked as he gazed down at you. His eyes floated to his hat resting on your head. “Your cover, however, is passable.”

“Passable?” You scoffed and slid your foot up his chest until your ankle hung back over his shoulder. Leaning forward, he bent your leg toward you. Your other leg enveloped his waist. He leaned over you, supporting himself with his hands. 

“It’s clean, the emblem is in good condition and no loose strings,” he explained. You smirked at him. “However.” Jake paused for effect. “It’s a little big…” he trailed off. As if intentional, the hat slipped down your brow. Before you could push it up, Jake lifted it off your head and placed it on his. “It’s definitely made for me.” Adjusting the hat, he winked and sat back again. Hands resting on his thighs, Jake looked down at you through hooded eyes. His smirk lured you to make the next move. 

You pushed yourself into a seated position, folding your legs under you and facing Jake. Keeping eye contact, you reached behind you and unclasped your top. Your eyes never left his as you shimmied the straps off your shoulders, holding the cups to your chest while you freed your arms. Then you slowly pulled the fabric from your body and tossed it aside. 

Jake thought he was subtle, but you caught the split second his gaze dropped to your chest. A smile pulled your lips as you leaned forward, shifting to all fours. As you did, Jake assumed a kneeling version of parade position—hands behind his back, facing straight ahead, knees spread hip distance. You crawled toward him, and then straddled one of his thighs. Hands behind his back, he let his eyes fall to you as you ground against him. You whimpered from the friction. Using your palms for support against the mattress, you leaned back so you were on full display for him.

You rolled your nipple between your fingers until it pebbled. Switching hands, you gave your other one the same attention. Then, you pushed yourself up so you were again face-to-face with Jake and draped your arms around his neck. One hand settled on the side of his face, your thumb gliding along his lower lip.

Jake’s restraint was impeccable. You bumped his hard-on a few times with your knee as you settled onto his lap, grazing your chest against his. Jake’s hands remained behind his back and his gaze distant as you teased him.

“At ease, Lieutenant.” The minute the words left your mouth, Jake’s hands were on you. One slid over your waist and down your back to rest on your ass. And the other pulled your hips closer to him, and then it rose to your ribcage to press your torso even closer to his. 

Your hand cradling his jaw, thumb resting on his lower lip, Jake pushed his lips against your thumb.  His expression warmed to match the lust in his jade  eyes.

He tilted his chin up and you dropped your hand to his throat, sliding it around the side so your thumb came to rest behind his ear and drew little circles. The two of you gazed at each other, and your eyes floated to the hat standing between your lips and Jake’s. He watched as you moved it from his head to yours. “Does the cowboy hat rule count for a combination cap?” you asked with a smoldering smile, and then you leaned down so your lips met his. 

His grip on you tightened, and he rolled his pelvis into you as your tongue played with his. You hummed as you pulled back and your hand came to rest between his clavicles. You lazily drew a heart with your index finger and watched the corners of his mouth pull into a smile.

“It does now.” The gravelyness of his southern drawl pulled the coil in your stomach a little tighter. You pushed your lips against his again. He matched your intensity, gripping your ass tighter and squeezing your body closer.

You pulled back to look down at Jake. His head was tilted back to meet your gaze. You let your thumb wander down the side of his face. He hummed as you touched him, and you could feel the vibrations under your fingertips. “Is that so, cowboy?” you asked playfully.

“Yeah,” he answered. You ground yourself against his thigh as you waited for him to continue. “You’re made for me just like this hat is made for me.” 

“Mhmmm, perfect fit.” You agreed with a smile. 

“And tonight, I plan to wear ya at the same time.” He closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. While you were a tangle of teeth and tongues, Jake guided your bodies so he could furrow himself into the bedding, leaving you laying on top of him. 

Your thighs hugged his hips and your bare chests pressed together as you made out. As your lips separated, you sat up, assessing your position. A wicked grin carved your lips as you ground into his aching lap. His hands gripped your thighs.

“Only thing you’re wearing right now is too much clothing.” You were already moving so you could help discard his remaining garments. 

A smirk quirked Jake’s lips, and you could feel your pupils dilate as he lifted his hips for you pulled his pants and underwear down. Animatedly, his cock sprung free of his boxer briefs and slapped against his lower stomach. 

Once Jake was completely naked, you ditched your panties and slipped back onto your perch. Slotting his length between your folds, you slid back and forth to slicken him with your arousal. The unintelligible groans while his fingers dug into your hips egged you on.

You loved teasing Jake. Rubbing your engorged clit along the underside of his length. Mixed fluids lubricating you while you pressed your palms into his broad chest for support. In fact, you both got off many times this way. 

However, tonight, Jake wasn’t having it. Although his eyes were nearly in the back of his head, he still had the wherewithal to guide himself into you. Slowing your pace, you lifted your hips to allow him entrance. 

A soft whine bubbled out of your throat as he stretched you. One of his hands slid back to knead your ass. Momentarily his touch disappeared, and then his open palm connected with a swift crack. You sat up straighter as a surprised yelped escaped you, and you clenched around his cock.

“That’s it,” he praised, loving the feeling of you hugging him tighter. Another smack, and you clenched him again. “You know it’s coming, and you can’t help yourself.” He followed his comment with another swat.

He smiled as a strangled groan emitted from you. You were supposed to be in control, riding Jake since you put on his hat. However, the man had zero patience. His hips thrusted up, pitching you forward. Your hands were splayed on his chiseled chest to keep yourself as upright as possible while he fucked up into you.

You loved when Jake got like this. So aroused, he couldn’t hold back. Instead, he had his hand wrapped around the front of your neck as he bucked his hips. Meanwhile, you had one hand wrapped around his wrist and the other holding his cover on your head.

Jake’s thrusts were getting sloppy, and as if on cue, he shook out of your grasp and shifted his hand from your throat to the back of your neck. The other looped behind one of your knees, and he gently flipped you so you were underneath him.

“I’ll take that.” He plucked his cap off your head and seated it on his. Then he was back to thrusting into you, pressing you further and further into your shared mattress. 

Desperate for purchase, you clutched Jake’s biceps the best you could—he would have tiger stripes in the morning. One of your legs over his shoulder, the other draped over his forearm, he relentlessly pounded into you.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he praised. Unable to articulate a response, you felt zero shame in the messy moans and whiny whimpers that fell from your lips. Each one only made Jake stretch your lower limbs further for deeper penetration.

Jake stilled and you could feel him spurting into you, coating your walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and his cock, still half hard, bounced out. A little dollop of cum accentuated his handiwork.

“Fuck, so gorgeous.” Jake admired, kneeling back on his haunches. His palms gripped your thighs, keeping you spread as he watched your mixed arousal drip down, threatening to hit the duvet.

As you were catching your breath, Jake climbed off the foot of the bed, dragging you with him until your hips were situated on the edge. He sank to his knees, yours bracketing his head. You were careful not to knock his hat off. 

Zero warning, he swiped a broad tongue from your cum-soaked hole to your sensitive nerves. Arms wrapped your hips to hold you steady as he fucked his tongue into you. Whining, back arching, you fisted the bedding and squeezed your eyes shut.

Two thick fingers replaced his tongue. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m going to take care of you.” You opened your eyes in time to see him punctuate his statement with a kiss to your cleft. Then he slid his mouth a little lower to suction around your swollen clit, sucking at the same rhythm as his fingers scissoring and curling inside you. 

He knew you were close. Your walls tightening, Jake made the game-time decision to swap his fingers for his hard-again cock. He literally didn’t miss a beat. The extra stretch from his girth was just what you needed.

Your heels rested on Jake’s ass, while he continued to pump into you. One hand found its way into your hair, and the other pried your fist open to lace his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand just as your walls contracted around him, your orgasm washing over you. Jake covered your lips with his, swallowing your breathy gasps. 

Then, he pulled your hair just enough to elicit a pleasurable whine, which was music to his ears as he kissed your neck and chest. His hat was askew. As you came back to the present and soaked in the scene, you couldn’t help but giggle. Jake was flushed, lips puffy and the only fabric on his body was his standard-issue U.S. Navy combination cap. 

“Looks good on you.” With your free hand, you straightened his hat. 

He bared his teeth, giving his signature smile. “Not as good as you look on me.” He shifted his hips, reminding you where you were connected. Not caring if his hat fell off, he leaned in for a kiss. His tongue tickled the seam of your lips before entering your mouth. Your hand shifted to his cheek. 

Untangling himself from you, Jake pressed himself off the bed. You rolled onto your back, clenching your thighs to recover from the empty feeling. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught Jake’s ass retreating into the closet. You giggled to yourself as you rested your cheek into the bedding and kicked your legs into the air.

“I was thinking for Round 2 we could use the real deal.” You picked up your head to find Jake strolling back over to the bed wearing only his favorite Stetson. His cock was erect and ready for duty. 

A smile pulled your lips as you sat up on the bed, hugging your legs to your chest. He stood in front of you and gently placed the hat on your head. “Looking to see a little more of me, cowboy?” you asked. 

“I’m looking to see all of you,” he responded. 

Fulfilling his statement, you slid off the bed and stood in front of him. Head tilted back to look him in the eyes, you flexed onto your tiptoes so you could put his hat back on his head. “How about a change of scenery?” Slipping past him, you walked backward toward the ensuite bathroom. You winked before disappearing across the threshold.

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[jewellery-box]

SACK-BACK GOWN WITH PETTICOAT

CIRCA 1750-1760

Embroidered Silk Damask Silk Thread

Women's fashions of the second half of the 18th century displayed a wide silhouette as panniers (side hoops) held the skirt out at the hips while stays (corset) created a narrow waistline. The dress was usually called a robe; while the skirt was called a petticoat. A robe à la Française, or sack-back gown, combined a taut bodice with folds of fabric that extended from the back neckline down to the hem of the gown. This gown may have arrived in the American colonies as a ready-made fashion or perhaps lengths of the silk brocade had been imported from Spitalsfield, England. Spitalsfield was the manufacturing site for numerous floral silks, silk brocades and damasks.

The Mint Museum

[little-spicy]

Secret Ties

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Y/N Velaryon was the adopted child of Rhaenerys and Laenir. Taken in as a babe and was the daughter of house Velaryon and treated as one. Even though the blacks and greens have bad blood. Y/N and Aemond have always shared a secret love for one another. As war begins, the two decide to set their own fate and seal a promise made long ago.

WARNING: smut 🔥🔥( minors DNI!)

THE SUN BEGAN TO SET AS Y/N DESCENDED down from her dragon Meela. Her dragon calmed as Y/N came over and held her hand on her dragons cheek. Leaning into her and hugging the dragon closely.

"I thought you'd never come." The man said and caused Y/N to turn quickly and there she saw Aemond. She saw that he changed his appearance since the last time she saw him. His hair was now shorter, his eye patch covered his scarred eye, and the clothes he wore won't green or black, but red.

She looked as he wore a cloak, hiding the clothes underneath him and his identity.

"It's hard trying to get away from my mother, she's already sending my brothers to defend." Y/N said and went over to Aemond and hugged him tightly. "You know once we do this, there's no going back."

"I didn't plan on going back on my word." Aemond said and lifted Y/N chin to make her look at his one eye. "I don't care what happens next only to be there with you."

She felt her eyes tear up and she kissed him gently, feeling the warmth of his lips soothed her and calmed her nerves.

She knew it wasn't going to be easy but she was willing to risk it all for him.

Y/N was an orphaned baby, an old maid of Rhaenrys's had given birth to her and when the news of her death caused Rhaenrys to take action.

She convinced Laenor to take in the baby and they had decided to raise her and bring her up to house Velaryon. Of course, Alicent, Aemond's mother had resentment.

Alicent believed Y/N was a lucky brat, that even though she was treated as a princess of house Velaryon she would always be just a handmaiden like her birth mother.

And of course Aemond never believed it, he would listen to his mother about many things but Y/N was never a hand maiden to him.

She was there for him when his brother and nephews teased him. She would let him go on her dragon whenever he pleased and almost felt that it was their shared dragon.

They were close and though Alicent and Rhaenrys's distaste's for one another always grew, the love between Aemond and Y/N grew stronger.

The day Aemond lost his eye it changed everything, everything that happened that day made Y/N worry even more about the feud.

After everyone had cleared from the room and left Aemond with his blood face and stitches that now covered his lost eye, Y/N stayed and washed the blood with a warm rag.

He promised her and she promised him that they would both be each other's half.

They knew they would be together and no one could part them not even their mothers' hatred.

Once the king had died they knew they had to marry. Her mother was already willing to marry Y/N to the Lannister heir to gain alliance and Alicent was going to have Aemond marry Jocelyn Baratheon.

Y/N sent a letter to Aemond secretly and asked him to meet her across the waters and to their secret place hidden in the mountains.

She secretly grabbed a white gown Aemond bought her and told her mother she was going to see to her dragon.

And now they were standing with each other hand in hand and ready to go where they needed.

They walked for a few miles, feeling the wind through their hair and smelling the faint scent of grass and the hint of sage.

A man was there in a dressed attire, holding a book and waiting for the couple under a tree. Y/N gripped Aemon's hand and as they approached the man, the old man gently smiled.

"Have you brought what you needed?" The man asked and Aemond nodded and under his cloak had a small sack.

In the sack had a chalice and a blade, handing to the older man and he took them gently and looked at them both.

"Let us begin." He said. "May you take hands."

Aemond and Y/N stood in front of each other and held hands, both of them couldn't stop smiling and Y/N began to tear up as she dreamt of this for years.

"Before us we are standing in front of the gods as we bless this union." He said. "Of House Targaryen and House Velaryon, we wed you two to become one and to love each other and honor each other as you both shall live."

The old man took Aemond's hand first and sliced his hand letting his blood poor into the chalice, then doing it again with Y/N. He then added wine to mix it together and held it front of them.

"Drinking this will make you one, blood shared by each other and bringing blood together." He said and Aemond raised the drink to Y/N's lips and she drank it, looking up as Aemond watch intensely and smirking.

Y/N held the chalice up to his lips and did the same and smiled as he drank every drop.

The old man then grabbed a cloth and tying their hands together with their cut hand and sealed it.

"Kiss and you will be complete, the houses United and the black and green flames will desist." The old man told them.

The two of them kissed intensely, Y/N touching Aemond's cheek and Aemond sneaking his free arm around her waist and holding her close.

Once they parted, the man bowed to them in honor.

"Congratulations, Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N Targaryen." He said. "May you live in everlasting bliss."

The man took his leave and Aemond held Y/N close looking at the sea below from the high mountain.

"We are married, truly married." Y/N said happily and held his hand tight.

"There is one more thing we have to do." Aemond smirked and Y/N blushed and giggled as Aemond lifted her up in his arms. "I've waited years to ravish you, you've given me kisses and a harden cock but I'm not stopping tonight until you are completely asleep."

Her core tingled at the thought and kissed him hungrily as Aemond carried her.

"Aren't we going back to our dragons?" Y/N asked as she looked back and Aemond chuckled.

"I actually have a surprise for you my love." He said and walked up a stony path that they had walked a million times before.

He stopped abruptly and placed Y/N down gently. He took her hands and smiled down at her.

"Close your eyes my love." He said and Y/N looked at him suspiciously and caused him to laugh. "I promise it's a good surprise, trust me."

She smiled and closed her eyes and Aemond grabbed her hand and led her closer and closer until he stopped in front of a display and kissed her cheek.

"Open." He said and Y/N did as she was told and she couldn't believe what stood before her.

It was a tree that they had been to before, where they put their initials in. Near the tree had lanterns and fruit for them. A nice fur blanket on the grass and a pillow as well.

She looked in shock and amazement as Aemond waited for her to speak.

"I know this is where we spent-" Aemond was talking until the words were taken from his lips and Y/N kissed him passionately.

She touched his face and pulled away.

"Fuck me my love, ravish me." She said and for the first time Aemond had been left speechless. He's never heard her so bold.

"As you wish my princess." He said and lifted her up and carried her to the fur blanket and laid her down.

He began to take off her dress, ripping the corset to get to her body. He growled as she moaned, kisses he began to deliver across her neck and chest.

He pulled the top of her wedding dress down and looked at her breasts in all its glory. She blushed and tried to move her head but Aemond saw and touched her face.

"Don't close your eyes princess." He said and took one of her breasts in his mouth and began to suck and bite. Teasing her nipple and making her moan loudly and grip his hair.

Her core thumping violently and causing electricity to jolt throughout her entire body.

"Aemond." She cried out as she watched him switch from one to the other every so often.

She looked down at his crotch and could see his hardened member, begging for release.

"Let me help you m-my love." She said as she unzipped his trousers and as she did, her checks blushed as she looked at his large member.

The tip was red and leaking, she never had seen it. She of course had felt it through Aemond's pants. She always fantasized what it looked like and when she finally had seen it, she was scared and aroused.

She gently grabbed it and touched the precum that was leaking, lubing his hardened member as she moved her hand up and down.

"Yes, f-fuck." Aemond grunted as he decided to use his fingers to touch her folds.

They both shuddered in pleasure, both helping one another come undone. Feeling everything and feeling closer than they had ever been.

"Ae-Aemond, please." She whine and Aemond smirked and removed his hands, making her whimper.

Aemond then manhandled her and had her back on the ground, looking up to him with her does eyes filled with lust.

"What would like my wife? Hmm, what shall I do with you." He asked and she reached up to his cheek and placed her hand over his patch.

She could see the hesitation in his eyes, and leaned up to kiss his eyepatch.

"I want to see you, all of you." She said and Aemond, looked nervous, but Y/N placed her hand over his, and once he removed his eye patch, the beautiful sapphire looked down at her.

"I love you." She cried and that's all it took for Aemond to fully snap. To finally break and for his urges to fully take over.

He grabbed her face and at the same moment he kissed her, he decided to push his cock into her. She cried out but Aemond's kiss silenced her.

It felt as if the world stayed still, he stayed there to let her adjust and could already feel the break of her virgin walls.

"Can I move my love?" Aemond asked and she had a few tears building up, and only nodded. She exhaled as she felt him move. "Squeeze my arm love."

Y/N instantly squeezed his arm as he began to move and thrust in and out. He kissed her cheeks and whispered nothing but affections as she adjusted.

As the thrust began to become consistent, the pleasure began to rise and the pain went away. Her quiet cries turned into loud moans.

"Yes, oh gods, Aemond." Y/N moved her hands to his back, and scratched softly.

"That's it, you feel amazing love." Aemond said. "No one is meant to touch you but me, say it."

Aemond growled and used his fingers to rub her clit, that did it for Y/N as she felt her release come closer and closer.

"Only you are meant to touch me. Only you." She cried and Aemond started to lose control and fuck her relentlessly.

The sound of his skin slapping against her, her moans were louder than the crickets and frogs. All she did was beg and claw at his back to cum and he was willing to give his wife anything.

If she had asked to kill Aegon, he would do it. Nothing would stop him from this moment. He'd kill everyone in the world if it meant staying in her velvet walls.

"I-I'm going to-to-" Aemond kissed her and placed his forehead against hers.

"Yes, cum for me, cum for me my love." Aemond said and began to swear in Valayrian.

She cried out and her entire body fell onto the blanket as her legs began to shake, and her walls clamped around Aemond's shaft.

Aemond thrusted in her a few more times until he moaned out and felt his seed fill her. He smiled and thrusted one last time and fell down on top of her.

She squealed as she felt his weight and she laughed.

"You weigh a ton, as much as a dragon." She told him and thrusted in her and caused her to moan.

"What a mean thing to say to your husband." Aemond said and flipped them over so she was on top of him, and his softening dock began to harden again. She felt drowsy and Aemond laid her against his chest and ran his fingers through her hair.

"Sleep, sleep and dream only of us." He said and kissed her sweaty forehead. He grabbed some of the blanket to cover themselves and held her close.

"My princess." He said and closed his eyes, letting his thoughts only be consume of Y/N, his new bride.

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!! Ty for reading and I also wanted to add I'm doing commissions!!!! Just message me and I can show you some of my pieces or go to @ peytonmunson on insta! ✨✨

[wholoveseggs]

Mistletoe

{Masterlist}

~Five days of Fluffmas~

Amidst the festivities of the Mikaelson Christmas party, Elijah captivates your attention, and Rebekah hatches a plan to assist you.

1k words - No warnings, no smut! just pure fluff.

You weaved through the crowded room, heading towards the bar. The Mikaelson Christmas party was in full swing. People mingled all around the compound, but you could barely pay them any mind. The only thing on your mind was the original vampire across the room.

Perhaps it was the Christmas lights casting a warm glow, or the alcohol flowing through your veins. Maybe it was the way the dark fabric of his tux stretched over his shoulders. Either way, you found it difficult to keep your eyes off him.

He was leaning casually on a high table, talking with Marcel. You ordered a drink from the bartender, working up the courage to approach them.

"Are you alright?" asked Rebekah, who happened to notice the dreamy look on your face.

"Hmm?" You blinked out of your daze. You grabbed the drink in front of you, taking a long sip to distract yourself.

Rebekah smirked. She knew her brother was behind that look, and it made her smile.

"Thanks for the dress," you remembered, gesturing to the ball gown she had lent you. The deep purple fabric glittered faintly, reflecting the warm colors surrounding you. She truly had impeccable fashion sense.

"Of course," she smiled, "Although, you could show up in a potato sack and my brother would be head over heels for you.”

You blushed, "I don't know about that," you said, hiding your embarrassment with another swig of your drink. "He doesn't show much interest."

At this point, you were certain he pitied you, and he was only kind to you out of some sort of obligation. You just wished that it wasn't forced between the two of you. He wasn't exactly an open book, so it was impossible for you to guess at what might be on his mind.

Rebekah chuckled, "that's just his nature; unlike Kol and Klaus, he's always been reserved," she said, "but trust me, he likes you. You just have to make the first move."

"I'm not sure that I can," you confessed, "what do I say?"

Rebekah's smile grew wide, "I have an excellent idea," she said. She looked down the bar, grabbing one of the centerpieces and tearing a piece off of it, handing it to you. "Mistletoe."

The plant was small, with tiny white berries and small green leaves, tied together with a red velvet ribbon.

"So what? Just walk up to him and hold this above his head?" You asked, incredulously.

"Well," Rebekah shrugged, "that's one way.”

You decided to swallow down your nerves and just do it. You finished off your drink and headed towards where Elijah was standing. You felt like the ground was slipping away beneath you, but you chose not to stop. At this point, you decided you didn't care. You made a fast decision, and you were sticking with it.

After all, Christmas is a time for good cheer, right?

Elijah and Marcel continued to talk as you approached them. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you knew they could probably hear it.

Marcel was the first to look up, giving you one of his signature warm and inviting smiles. Elijah took a few more seconds, his eyes snapping up to meet yours the minute he heard your heart start to beat faster.

"Uh, hi," You smiled awkwardly, completely losing the ability to speak.

Elijah returned your grin, suddenly curious as to why your heart was going so haywire. "Y/N, Merry Christmas," He greeted.

His eyes slipped down, noticing what you were holding in your hand. You panicked, moving the leaves so it was a bit more hidden behind you.

Marcel grinned as he realized what was going on. "What's that you have behind your back?" He teased.

"Don't worry about it," interjected Rebekah, arriving just in time to save you from the awkward tension. She looped her arm in Marcel's, pulling him away quickly.

With both of them gone, you were suddenly stuck, wondering what the heck to do now.

Well, you knew what to do, but you weren't sure if you would be able to.

You held the mistletoe up, a weak smile on your face as you met his eyes. All the butterflies in your stomach transformed into pure regret, and you instantly pulled the mistletoe down, shaking your head.

"You know what," you laughed, shaking your head, "sorry, this was ridiculous."

You were so embarrassed you just wanted to jump into a hole and hide forever, but before you could run away, Elijah gently grabbed your wrist. He slowly lifted your hand, extending the plant between you.

You looked at him questionably. With his other hand, Elijah caressed the side of your cheek. He stepped forward, his face suddenly a lot closer than it was before.

Slowly, he leaned in, stopping millimeters away from your mouth. He gave you time to stop it, to step away, but you didn't even consider it. You threw the mistletoe aside and threw your arms around him. Closing the space between you.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion; you could feel every breath, every move, every touch. His hand moved to the small of your back, holding you close and pressing you into his chest. His other hand weaved into your hair, cradling your neck, keeping your lips connected to his.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke apart, just slightly. Foreheads pressed together, you couldn't help but giggle at the moment that had transpired.

Elijah let out a relieved sigh, smiling at the fact that he didn't need to continue pretending. He had fallen for you a long time ago, and here you were, smiling up at him with flushed cheeks. You pressed another quick kiss to his lips, before giggling again and burying your head into his neck.

He held you tight, swaying you slightly on the spot as you finally relaxed into him.

"Merry Christmas, darling," He whispered, pressing another quick kiss to your hair.

"You want to get out of here?" You asked shyly, lifting your eyes back to his.

He pulled away, bending down to pick up the discarded mistletoe, "can I bring this?" He teased.

You smiled, taking his free hand and intertwining your fingers with his.

"Please do."

[autumnshighlady]

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 17)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: reunion time

warnings: Night Court slander, anti Rhysand

word count: 5.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: i am SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATES! It's been almost 4 months since the last chapter yikes. Life got crazy then I got into a horrible writing block and this is the first thing I've written since July. I'll admit it sucks and is definitely a filler chapter but I promise more exciting stuff to come x

feedback is appreciated, just no hate pls! these are just my opinions, i’m more curious to see how you all like the writing and characterization and storylines!

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / 

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For the first time in weeks, your eyes open to rays of sunshine instead of cold darkness. Warm, rich scents flooded your senses, so vastly different from the stifling air of the prison cell you had become accustomed to. Instead of smelling damp, cold stone, you were greeted with the smell of fir trees and fresh air. Your limbs felt lighter, the weight of the chains that had been shackled to your wrists for ages long forgotten.The soft touch of a heavy blanket wrapped around you like an embrace, hugging your body.

You squinted at the harshness of the light, eyes not quite used to the brightness of the sun. You groaned and rolled over to get away from the luminous glow, but felt your body collide with something on the bed. After a couple blinks, your eyes began to focus on the lithe figure sitting next to you.

“Nesta…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, her name like a prayer on your mouth as she came into view. Nesta’s tall frame was seated cross-legged next to you, clad in a deep green gown with a wide neckline adorned with a lacy pattern of gold flowers. Her hands were clasped together tightly, resting upon her skirts. Her sharp face was muddled with concern, slate grey eyes hollow like her mind was elsewhere. 

But they snapped into focus once again at the sound of your voice. “(Y/N)” Nesta breathed, blinking a few times as if she couldn’t believe it was truly you. “You’re awake.”

“How long was I out?” You asked, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows but failing. You let out a groan, flopping back onto the pillows like a sack of potatoes.

“Don’t try and sit up yet.” Nesta warned, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “You’ve been out for two days. Your body has been through so much, the healers said to let you rest as much as possible.”

You took in a breath, taking in the sight of Nesta before you. A thousand emotions swelled up in you all at once, threatening to burst out and paint the room a hundred different colours. Your mate, your beautiful, strong mate had come to save you. Tears pricked at your eyes as your throat swelled up. “Nesta–” You croaked out.

“Shhh.” Nesta shushed, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You got out. We all did.”

You sighed. The escape from the Night Court seemed like yesterday and a million years ago all at once. “Are we in Autumn? I don’t remember getting here.”

Nesta nodded. “You passed out on Zôrzimril after we left Night. We’re in Eris’ personal residence in the woods. Beron doesn’t know you’re here.”

You glanced at the room around you, taking in the rich earthy tones signature to the Autumn Court. It was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold surroundings of Night. Lucien had told you that Eris had his own, elaborate place somewhere free of his father in the court. You had never stepped foot in it, until now, but had always wanted to.

“You’re in the room I’ve been staying in.” Nesta continued, a hint of a red blush across her cheeks as she avoided your gaze. “Actually, it’s technically Eris’s–”

“Wait,” You interrupted her. “I’m in Eris’s bed? You’ve been sleeping in Eris’s bed?”

Nesta’s blush deepened. “It’s his personal residence. He doesn’t exactly have guest rooms.”

“Where has he been staying then?” 

“When he’s not at his father’s palace, the couch, apparently. Don’t feel bad for him, that couch is big enough for 3 people to sleep comfortably, limbs spread out and all.”

You snorted, ignoring the fact that you were laying in Eris’ personal bed. You expected to feel a twinge of jealousy that Nesta had been staying in this room, so up close and personal with Eris. But none came. Something which surprised you, given Nesta was your mate, and mates were supposed to be territorial. 

It was like a bucket of ice water was washed over you as you recalled the realisations you came to over the last few days. Nesta didn’t know she was your mate – she thought she was Cassian’s.

Estelle’s words rang in your head. Fae folk can have more than one mate in some instances. Nesta Archeron has more than one, but Cassian is not one of them.

It confused you – Cassian sure acted like a mated male around Nesta, even more so once Rhys mentioned it at the Court of Nightmares. Why would the High Lord lie about it? Did anyone else know? A million questions swarmed through you, each one louder than the last.

You recalled Nesta telling you the story of Feyre finding out about the mating bond with Rhys. How angry she was when she found out that the male had known for months and didn’t tell her. Deep down, you knew Nesta would be angrier the longer you kept it from her. “Nesta,” You began. “There’s something you need to know–”

“Good morning, my sunshines.” The smooth voice of Eris echoed throughout the room as the door swung open, interrupting you. The prince strolled in, red hair gleaming in the glow of the morning sun. He was carrying a tray, steaming with freshly baked pastries, tea, and fruits. “I see (Y/N) has risen from the dead!”

“You’re not funny, Eris.” Nesta snapped. 

“I disagree.” Eris quipped, setting the tray down at the foot of the bed. “(Y/N) think’s I’m hilarious, don’t you (Y/N)?”

You snorted. “If you pass me that bacon and egg sandwich I’ll give you this one.”

Eris smirked, placing the requested item onto a gold plate and passing it to you. “Deal.”

You eagerly grabbed the sandwich, taking as big of a bite as your mouth would allow. It burned your tongue, but you didn’t care. It took everything in you not to moan as the rich flavours filled your taste buds. “This is amazing.” You mumbled.

The Autumn Prince smirked. “Well I suppose anything would taste good after being basically starved in a dungeon.”

“Seriously, Eris. Shut up.” Nesta seethed, shooting a deadly glare at him. You snorted, but couldn’t help but notice the lack of seriousness behind it. Plenty of times you had been witness to Nesta snapping at people, but this was different. Her tone didn’t have the same bite to it that it did with others – no, it was more playful. She turned back to you, eyes softening. “How do you feel?”

You shrugged. “Tired. Like I’ve just done the workout of the century and need a week’s worth of sleep. I don’t want to leave this bed for at least another few days.”

Grey eyes met amber ones as Nesta and Eris exchanged an uneasy glance. For that moment, the only sound was the rustling of the wind coming through the windows. “What?” You asked, brows furrowed.

Eris sighed, walking around the corner of the bed. He was dressed in a simple red shirt with loose sleeves, the top slightly unlaced and exposing the pale skin underneath. Very rarely had you seen the prince dressed so casually. He grabbed your ankles through the thick duvet, lifting your legs up slightly and moving them to the side to make space for him to sit across from Nesta. Eris kept his hands on your legs, gently squeezing them.

“You’ve survived a lot of hard things lately, (Y/N).” He said slowly. “And you’ve overcome one of the most difficult parts. But I’d be lying if I said it was going to get a lot easier.”

A lump formed in your throat. Truthfully, over the past few weeks you hadn’t even thought about the possibility of what life would be like if you escaped Night and got to Autumn. There were still dozens of factors to consider, all of which you had given up on figuring out solutions to.

“I have to explain to my father how and why you are here, which will be difficult.” Eris continued. “He already blew a fuse over Nesta’s unexpected arrival. It is likely a second unexpected arrival will be even worse, and he will not take it lightly.”

You shifted in the pillows, running a hand through your hair. Surprisingly, you weren’t met with the knots and tangles you expected from not being able to brush your own hair for weeks. “Your father will hurt you, won’t he?” You said to Eris.

He hesitated before speaking. “Let me worry about that, my dear. We need to convince my father there’s a good reason for you to stay. I’ve already used the marriage card on Lady Nesta here, so we need to figure out something else.”

“What about my…” Your words trailed off as you tried to think of a word to describe what exploded out of you during the escape. “Magic?”

Eris shook his head. “Not an option. He cannot know about that.”

“Why not? Surely he’ll find out eventually?”

“Likely not. Rhysand is not stupid enough to let slip that he let someone with that kind of ability escape his court. And I have reason to believe Tamlin will stay quiet about it as well.”

“Speaking of that kind of ability,” Nesta interjected. “What even was that? I didn’t know you–”

“Yeah, me neither.” You said, locking your fingers together and twirling them around. You lowered your head, avoiding their gazes. “Something…. something happened when I was in there.”

Eris cocked his head, eyes burning with curiosity. “What happened?”

Nesta grabbed your hands, unlocking your clammy fingers and lacing her own between them. She shot a fierce look at Eris. “She doesn’t have to talk about it now.” She hissed.

“Yes, Nesta, she does.” Eris said calmly before turning back to you. “I wish we had more time to let you rest, I really do, but I need to know what happened before I can figure out what story to spin to my father.”

You let out a sigh. “Why can’t we just kill him first so we don’t have to deal with all of this?”

Nesta snorted, earning an eye roll from Eris. “As much as I would love to be rid of my father,” Eris said. “We have to wait before we take him out. There are things that need to be properly aligned, and it takes planning.”

“Haven’t you been planning?” You fired back. “I mean, plotting and scheming is all you do in your spare time, isn’t it?”

A smirk formed at the edge of Eris’s lips. “The officials in this court need to see Beron accept you and Nesta if they’re going to accept you. We risk a coup if we kill him before then. Now, tell me what happened while you were in that cell.”

Nesta’s steady hand on your weak one evened your breathing slightly. You tore your gaze from the pattern on the sheets and you drank in the sight of her as if it could slip away at a moment's notice. She looked stronger, healthier than she had in Night. She carried herself more confidently, less stiff and rigid. She looked more comfortable in her own skin, something that filled you with pride. But also sorrow – sadness at the fact you hadn’t been there to witness this change.

And so you explained everything – the vision you had, the conversation with Estelle, what happened that day Hybern came to your village. Nesta’s face was twisted with confusion and awe as you went on, whereas Eris’ expression was unreadable. 

“But that wasn’t everything.” You murmured, heart beginning to race as you prepared to explain the part you dreaded most. 

“There’s more?” Nesta asked, eyes wide. “You’re telling me you’re the Mother incarnate, and there’s more than that?”

Tears pricked at your eyes once again. These next few words could ruin everything. You knew Nesta hated the idea of mates, the concept of being shackled to someone just because a higher being thought you’d produce good offspring. Nesta already had to process what Rhysand said about Cassian being her mate, and you were about to make it a whole lot worse. You couldn’t stop those tears from spilling down your face as a sob left your body.

“Hey…” Eris spoke softly, reaching out to brush one of the tears off your cheek. “It’s ok.”

“(Y/N)?” Nesta’s voice was cautious, laced with concern.

“You’re my mate.” Your voice shook as you dragged the words out. You fixed your gaze on the sheets again, not wanting to see Nesta’s reaction.  

“What?” She said quietly.

“Cassian isn’t your mate,” You said, more steady this time. “I am. Estelle said fae can have more than one mate, but Cassian is not one of yours.”

For once, not even the wind rustled in response. It was as if the world had gone quiet. You could feel her surprise, like a rush of cold water surging through that link between you two. You tried to reach her through the bond, to get a sense of what else she was feeling, but you were met with a stone cold wall.

Nesta. You tried. But she had shut you out, eyes vacant as she took in the information. Wordlessly, Nesta removed her hands from yours. Your skin cried out at the loss of warmth, missing the contact already. She uncrossed her legs and climbed off the bed before leaving the room, slamming the door behind her.

A sob wracked your body again, harder this time. Wet droplets appeared on the sheets as tears rolled off your face, and you buried your head in your hands. Even after everything you’d endured, this was somehow the worst.

You felt a shift on the bed as Eris scooted up closer to you. “It’ll be okay.” You heard his voice murmur in that scarce gentle tone.

“You don’t know that.” You choked out. One of your fears had come true. Everything you and Nesta had built up over the last few months – the quiet friendship, the few sacred kisses you shared that set your entire body alight, the easiness during training with Gwyn and Emerie, it all came crashing down. Whatever she had felt for you mattered now, she wouldn’t want to be shackled even more than she already has.

“When you were asleep, Nesta spent hours untangling your hair.” 

You lifted your head from your hands at Eris’ voice, meeting his soft gaze. “It was a mess,” He continued. “Took her the entire afternoon. But she was so gentle, and not breaking a single strand. She didn’t take a single break, and even after she was done she remained by your side until the sun came up. I set up the couch for her, but she insisted on sleeping next to you.”

Eris gently touched your hand. It was warm against your skin, which you felt was still thawing from the cold of Rhys’ dungeon. “Nesta has had a lot to take in the last few weeks, as you well know. I’ve been training her powers, but my father has insisted that a demonstration of her magic be made before the marriage is to happen. I have no doubt that–”

“Did you know?” You blurted out before the prince could finish his sentence. It was a question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you found out Nesta was your mate – Eris had a knack for finding out things long before others knew. You had no doubt that the second he found out about the spell you and Nesta cast, he had delved into hours of research trying to figure out as much about it as possible. He was a clever male, one who fought with knowledge and scheming rather than brute force like Cassian.

Eris was silent for a moment before speaking. “I suspected. There were too many unknown factors to bring it up, I wanted to be sure before I told Nesta. I found old manuscripts dating back thousands of years – the text was faded, but it went into more details about the specifics of the spell between Estelle and Jayana. There were too many parallels between it and the mating bond. I figured the only explanation was that a mating bond had to already be in place for the spell to truly link.”

You sighed. If Nesta found out that Eris might have known as well and kept it from her, she would be even angrier. “Eris, Nesta doesn’t trust easily. You should have told her this the second you got the idea in your head. Now she’s going to be pissed at both of us.”

“She’s not pissed at you, my dear.” Eris gently stroked your hand with his thumb, the movement so small it was almost undetectable. “Give her a few hours to process. Then we can all sit down and figure out what to do next, okay? Now rest for a bit longer, you need to get your strength back.”

You nodded, heart aching at the image of Nesta storming out of the room. Laying back, you settled back into the plush bedding, wishing it would swallow you up whole. Eris reached down and pulled the duvet closer to you, gently tucking you in. “Sleep well, darling.” He whispered. Before you could process it, Eris leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Your skin tingled at the sensation, still feeling like it was slowly thawing from the cold of the dungeon. 

There was so much more you wanted to say, a thousand questions you wanted to ask Eris, but the prince retreated as quickly as he came leaving you to sleep. Your eyes fluttered shut as you drifted off again, heart aching at the absence of Nesta’s presence.

 *********************

A few hours later, you smoothed your hands over the skirts of the dress Eris’s servants had laid out for you. It was a rich brown colour with a square neckline and loose sleeves -- elegant, yet comfortable. You had no clue where Eris had been pulling this wardrobe from, but that was besides the point. Grogginess continued to plague you, although less so than before. Even with your fae healing, it would take a while for you to return to your full strength – something you had Rhysand to thank for.

Your hands curled into fists, nails scraping through your palms as you thought of the High Lord of the Night Court. A sick feeling curled in your gut as you recalled his smug face as he sent his dark powers slicing through your skin. Every time you closed your eyes, you were back in that dungeon, chained up and helpless against the male. You hated it, hated him. You hated how much his slimy face crossed your mind, how the faint scars along your wrists would never truly fade. Your mind flashed with memories of riding atop Zorzimril, burning down Rhys and Feyre’s many castles, the orange flames lighting up the night sky as you burned and burned them. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you feel better.

Shaking your head as if to push memories of Rhysand out of your mind, you wandered towards the door on unsteady legs. As the door swung open, you were greeted with a long hallway lined with elegant torches. You looked back and forth, unsure which way to go. You didn’t even know Eris had this residence, let alone how to navigate it. But then you felt something, a slight pull deep inside of you that urged you to go left. Aimlessly, you followed it, wandering down the hallway before coming to a beautiful wooden arch that marked the entryway into the living room. In awe, you scanned the space before you. A series of couches and armchairs were placed around the room, some by a fireplace and some by the high bookshelf that stretched all the way to the ceiling. It was decorated in rich autumnal colours, the scent of cinnamon and apple cider filling the air. It had a modest dining table and three chairs, and a set of doors that seemingly led to a pathway outside.

Nesta and Eris occupied two of the chairs, sitting across from each other in silence. Eris was humming quietly, writing something down on a piece of parchment. His red hair looked more orange in the candlelight, and was braided loosely. Nesta sat stoically, staring into nothing. She had a cup of tea in front of her, but no steam emitted from it. Clearly she had been there a while, tea untouched. Her face was grave, but her head whipped to face you as you stepped through the archway.

You wanted to throw up with nerves. You had always been able to read Nesta’s expressions until now. Her face was contorted with a mix of emotions, passing so quickly between each one it was impossible to tell what they were. My mate, my mate, my mate, rang like a war bell in your head so loud it threatened to drown out any sounds from the outside world. You felt the bond in your chest swell in her presence, stronger than anything you’d felt before. There was no denying it – Nesta was your mate.

“May I join you?” You finally managed to ask through a dry throat. Nesta said nothing and just kept staring at you.

“By all means,” Eris piped up, setting his pen down. “Come join the party. We’re having a grand old time here, aren’t we, Nesta?”

You expected Nesta to roll her eyes or snap at him in that playful manner, but it was as if she didn’t even hear Eris. She just kept looking at you as if she wasn’t sure if you were really there. You carefully walked over, taking a seat between Nesta and Eris at the head of the table where the remaining chair was. Her grey gaze followed you the whole way.

“What have you guys been up to while I was out?” You asked.

Eris sighed. “Well, my dear, I informed Nesta of what I began to suspect regarding the bond. She tore me a new one for not telling her, it was very dramatic. So now we’re sitting in silence trying to figure out how to address the elephant in the room.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at the lines in the wood of the table. You felt frozen – afraid of saying the wrong thing. Nesta had never wanted to be fae, and you knew having a mating bond must make that worse for her. It would make her even more shackled to this life she didn’t want, chipping away at her remaining humanity piece by piece. Sure, you and Nesta had kissed a few times and there was feeling behind it, but that didn’t mean she wanted you as a life partner. And even with that, Estelle had said Nesta had multiple mates. If Cassian was not one of them, then who was? 

Eris’s sigh broke your thoughts. “By the Mother, you two are stubborn.” He huffed. “Let’s look at the facts, shall we? Nesta, (Y/N), you are mates. I suspected it a few days after I found out about the spell you two cast, as it needed an already existing bond to latch onto in order to work. But then things get complicated. Somehow, Rhys is wrong about Cassian being Nesta’s mate. Either they’re the best actors I’ve seen, or there is something linking Nesta and Cassian.”

You saw Nesta’s throat bob at the mention of Cassian. Trying to figure out how he was connected to Nesta hurt your brain. 

“I felt something with Cassian,” Nesta said tensely. “Not in that way, but I could feel what he felt as if part of him lived within me. How is that not a mating bond?”

The prince shrugged. “I have no idea, honestly. There’s something strange going on there. However, none of that matters until we deal with my father. I am set to marry Nesta, which puts us in an awkward situation. If Nesta pleases my father with her powers, then she is to be wed to me.”

“When is that supposed to be happening?” You asked. You weren’t sure how you felt about Eris and Nesta getting married. Part of you was jealous, resentful at the idea of Nesta marrying someone else. But there was another part of you that felt differently in a way you couldn’t explain. Like you were being left out not just from Nesta’s life, but Eris’s too.

“Tonight.” Eris said gravely.

Your blood froze. “Tonight?”

“Yes. And no offence my dear, but you complicate things. Because now I have to explain to my father why you are here too and why I keep letting in strays.”

You snorted. “Beron’s going to kill me. I think you already pissed him off by letting Nesta in here without his permission. I’m not even half as valuable to him as she is, we both know he won’t have any use for me.”

“I won’t let that happen.” Nesta finally spoke, her voice fierce. You turned to face her and were met with her silver eyes. They stared into you, swimming with a thousand emotions.

“Whatever happens, Beron won’t touch you.” She continued evenly.

“We just have to play the angle right.” Eris said, crossing his arms and resting his elbows on the table. “You spied for Rhysand, correct?”

You scoffed. “Well, technically–”

“Yes, you did.” Eris interrupted sternly. “You spied for Rhysand, and then you found out what he was planning and tried to flee. He’s been hunting you down, and I found you at the Autumn Court border. That is the story we are going with.”

“What exactly did I find out that made me flee?”

“That he’s planning on becoming High King with Nesta’s Made sword.”

“Beron won’t believe that.”

“He will because it’s true.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. “What?” You spoke in a whisper, mind reeling in shock. The thought of Rhysand using Nesta’s weapons and declaring himself as High King over all of Prythian made you want to throw up.

“Based on my intel, the lovely Amren has been trying to convince him to go down that path.” Eris explained through gritted teeth. “Apparently he refused at first, but I strongly believe that with you and Nesta both having fled his grasp, he will reconsider his stance to get you back under his control.”

“If Rhysand was High King then he’d have dominion over the Autumn Court,” You muttered. “We would be right back where we started.”

Eris nodded. “But we can use this. My father would do anything to make sure that didn’t happen, overlook anything. If you inform him of Rhysand’s plans, he’ll want you on his side for more intel.”

“Would Beron really be so quick to trust someone who’s supposedly betraying their own court?”

“My dear, Rhysand locked you in a dungeon. That part we don’t have to lie about. We just have to twist the reasons why he locked you up. But truthfully, I think my father will be so distracted by the intel he won’t care about anything else.”

You chewed on your lower lip with worry. It was a big gamble, and while Eris was clever Beron was still unpredictable. So many things could go wrong so fast, and the last thing you wanted was to end up in another dungeon. The thought of doing so made you want to curl up into a ball.

As if sensing your discomfort, Nesta placed her hand on top of yours. It was warm, such a difference from how frail and cold her hands were in the Night Court. “It’ll be ok.” She murmured. 

You smiled softly, relaxing instantly under her touch. 

“And that’s my cue,” Eris announced, gathering his papers and standing up. “I suspect you two have much to discuss alone. I must go ensure everything is prepared for dinner with my father tonight. I’ve left instructions with the servants on how to get you ready, and I will be by to collect you both at five o’clock.”

He strode towards the archway, but paused briefly. Amber eyes landed on you and Nesta again, all playfulness gone. “I have done my part, and will do whatever I can to ensure your safety.” He said gravely. “But do not forget that you both have roles to play, and we all risk our heads if you fail to do so. And if you have any thoughts about betraying me to save your own skin, Beron will no longer be the one you need to fear from my family. I will throw you both to the wolves without hesitation if you think about dragging me down with you.”

With that, the prince left, leaving you and Nesta sitting in silence. Eris’s words stung you a bit, that he thought you would even think about betraying him. But Eris had been playing this song and dance with his father for centuries, and at the end of the day no matter how much he’d helped you, he’d always look out for himself. It was something you were aware of when you planned this, and you mentally kicked yourself for ignoring it.

The few minutes after Eris’s departure were filled with silence. No birds chirped in the windowsill, no breeze rustled the branches. It was as if the world had stopped, waiting on the edge of its seat for you and Nesta to speak. 

Truthfully, you had no idea what to say. How could you comprehend what Nesta felt when you didn’t even know how you truly felt? A part of you had always loved Nesta, but were those your true feelings or just the mating bond? All those tender moments, the stolen kisses, the soft touches, would they have happened if the mating bond wasn’t already there? The thought of your connection with Nesta stemming from magic rather than your true feelings made your heart hurt. You had never wanted a mating bond, yet here you were.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity, you found the courage to speak. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Nesta?”

Nesta took a deep breath, fiddling with her fingers for a minute before answering. “How a few weeks ago I was ready to burn down the entire Night Court to get you back. How every second you were in that dungeon I was here, living comfortably. How every time I closed my eyes I saw glimpses of darkness, how I felt your fear. How all that time, I thought it was the spell allowing me to feel those things. I never could have imagined…”

Her voice trailed off, as if she was afraid to even speak about the bond. “Me too,” You replied. “Look, I know things are hard for us right now. And you don’t have to accept the bond if you don’t want–”

Nesta sharply cut you off. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to accept it. I just don’t know what to believe right now. Estelle said Cassian wasn’t one of my mates, but I swear I felt a bond. Was she wrong about that? And does that mean she was wrong about us?”

“I can’t speak for Cassian, but I don’t think she was wrong about us. And I think you know it too, Nesta.”

Nesta looked up at you, grey eyes brimming with emotion. You felt a gentle tug at the bond and inhaled sharply. She smiled softly at your reaction, confirming everything she needed to know.

“Nesta…” You breathed her name like a prayer on your lips. Tears filled your eyes as you admired that tender smile.

“I’m sorry for running off on you earlier.” She said quietly. “I just… I didn’t expect it. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. You, being my mate. After everything that happened between us…”

You sniffled, trying to hold back more tears. “But was all of it real? I mean, if we were mated the whole time, did everything happen between us because of the bond, or because of us?”

Nesta blinked slowly. “It was real to me.”

“Me too.”

You stroked Nesta’s wrist with your thumb, rubbing it in circular motions. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling everything both you and Nesta were experiencing at once. All you wanted to do was sit here and stare at your beautiful mate, forgetting about everything else. To let the rest of the world fall away beneath your feet as long as you could stay in this moment forever.

But realistically, you knew you had to face the challenges. “What about Eris?” You asked quietly. “You’re supposed to marry him, where does that put us?”

The Archeron sister bit her lip anxiously. “I don’t know. I’m sure Eris and I will be free to see whomever we wish as long as we are discreet and are able to maintain our image.”

You laughed humourlessly. “So then I’d become your mistress.”

“That’s not what I want for either of us. But I don’t see another way right now.”

You tried not to let it sting. You weren’t stupid – Eris marrying Nesta was necessary in your plan, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially now that you two were mated. The thought of simply being your mate's secret mistress made you feel slimy and ashamed. “How do you feel about marrying Eris?” You asked tentatively.

Nesta shrugged, but a faint red stained her cheeks. “It’s a smart move. It makes sense. And he’s not the worst male I’ve met so I think I’ll live.”

You chuckled, causing Nesta to glare at you. “Your face is red, Nesta. Admit it, you like him.”

“I don’t. He’s insufferable.” Nesta’s face only grew redder as she looked away.

Your laugh only grew louder. “Liar.”

“Fine!” Nesta snapped. “I’ve spent a lot of time with him in the last few weeks and he’s grown on me, ok? Does it not bother you as my mate for me to admit I like him? It feels wrong. I’m mated to you, not him.”

“No.” You answered honestly, which surprised you. “It doesn’t bother me. He’s charming. Besides, I’ve had a crush on him since I was like twenty, so…”

Your voice trailed off with embarrassment as you realised what you had just admitted. You had never told anyone about your crush on Eris, and had been determined to die with this secret. Your face went red, and Nesta burst out laughing. 

“Look whose face is red now?” She teased.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, burying your face in your hands. “If you ever tell him I said that I’ll strangle you.”

Nesta snorted. “Oh, please. He’s Eris. He probably already knows.”

You groaned, banging your head into the wood of the table a few times. It was strange and yet comforting to know that Nesta liked Eris. You expected a mately surge of jealousy and possessiveness, but none came. 

After a few more minutes of laughter, a comfortable silence took over the room before you each chose a book from the shelf and began to read. The hours began to pass by, and you stared at Nesta as she flipped through the pages, how beautiful she was with the autumn glow upon her. You wanted to memorise every inch of her features before the dinner with Beron tonight, the thought of which made your gut churn.

It was a quarter to five when the shuffled footsteps of four servants came into the room. It was time to prepare.

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[thebadgerclan]

All Mine

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: After a run-in with his ex, you remind Nikolai whose he is...

Smut!

How on earth he’d gotten an invitation to the ball, much less gotten past the guards was beyond you.  But when you felt Nikolai stiffen beside you, you were immediately on edge.  Then you’d seen him standing on the other side of the ballroom, his eyes locked on your husband.  Lord Richards, the son of a lesser noble and Nikolai’s former lover.  They had been together when Nikolai had first enlisted, Richards doing the same as was traditional for the sons of noblemen.  Their relationship only lasted a few months before Richards turned bitter and began taking his anger out on Nikolai.

Your husband had told you all of this shortly after your wedding, when you asked where the thin scar on his left shoulder blade had come from.  Needless to say, you had banned the man from court and had since held a massive grudge against him.  Yet he was here, now striding across the ballroom towards you and Nikolai.  You gripped your husband’s hand tightly, willing an ounce of your strength into him.

“Lord Richards,” Nikolai managed when he was close enough.  “I was not expecting to see you here.”  Richards nodded, a smug grin on his face.  “Indeed, it seems my invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.  Pity.  But the guards were all too happy to let me in once I slipped them a 50.”  You took a microscopic step forward, still clasping Nikolai’s hand.  He may be willing to play nice, but you certainly were not.

“What do you want, Richards?”  The man laughed, and it was a feat of strength not to punch him.  “Only to see Nikolai, darling.  Show him what he’s missing.”  You dropped his hand, stepping forward again, putting yourself completely between them.  “You will address your King properly when speaking of him,” you said.  “And you forget yourself.  I am your Queen, and you will respect me as such.  Guards!”

At your call, four guards came to your side.  “Escort this man from the grounds, ensure every guard knows never to admit him again.  And find the man he bribed and sack him.”  Richards was dragged away, and as soon as he was out of your sight, you turned to your husband, who was visibly shaken.  “I didn’t think I’d ever see him again,” he said.  “H-how did he get in here?”

You took his hands and gently led him from the ballroom.  Nikolai silently followed you back to your rooms, squeaking in surprise when you pushed him against the closed door and kissed him.  Your anger had somehow shifted to arousal, the need to remind Nikolai of whose he was burning like an inferno.  “Do you want this?” you asked, never wanting to assume, and when your husband nodded, you snarled, kissing him harder, tearing his clothes from his body.

“If I wasn’t Queen, I’d murder him for just looking at you,” you said, now kissing his neck as you tore his shirt open, buttons flying to the ground.  “I’m the only one who gets to look at you like that.  Not him, not anyone else, me.”  Nikolai whimpered, cock throbbing.  There was something about seeing you so demanding, seeing you take control that made his head feel fuzzy.  “Y/N,” he managed.  “Please.”

You’d removed his trousers and underclothes, leaving him naked and pawing at your shoulder.  It was like he was in a daze, and even then, he managed to get your gown unlaced and off.  You sealed your lips over his once more, walking him backwards to the bed.  Nikolai looked unbelievably gorgeous sprawled on the bed, his face and neck flushed, chest rising and falling with his breaths.

“I’m going to fuck you until you forget that asshole’s name,” you said, and your husband eagerly nodded.  “Please,” he sighed.  “Please, please!”  “You don’t need to beg, sweetheart.  I’ll ride you nice and hard.”  With no further preamble, you straddled his waist, gripped his cock, and sank down on his length.  Nikolai let out a long, strangled moan, and you began bouncing on his cock, setting a fast pace.

“Who makes you feel this good?” you asked, spanning your hands across his chest.  “Who’s the only one who gets to see you like this?  Whose are you?”  “You!” Nikolai nearly screamed.  “You, I’m yours!  All yours, Y/N, fuck!”  You smiled, flushed with pride, bending to kiss him.  “That’s right, baby,” you praised.  “And I’m yours.”  You rolled your hips and bounced on his length, drawing the most beautiful moans and whimpers from your husband’s lips.

Already he was close, grappling at your hips, pleading with his eyes for you to let him come.  “Say my name when you do, love,” you cooed, and Nikolai was finished.  He moaned your name repeatedly as he came, hips twitching weakly upward as he spilled himself within you.  Normally, you would stop riding him, gently pull off, snuggle against his chest.  But you’d promised Nikolai to fuck him until he forgot Richards’ name…

So you kept on, making your husband wail with pleasure and slight overstimulation.  “Y/N, Y/N, yes!”  Pride filled you, and you bent to kiss him again, trailing your lips over his throat and chest.  “Fuck, baby, you fill me up so well,” you said, your words falling directly into his ear.  “I have fucking dreams about your cock, Nikolai.  Saints, you feel so good.”  Nikolai was moaning and whimpering incomprehensibly, his arms winding around you in an attempt to hold you close.

“Are you going to come again for me, love?  Come inside me?”  Nikolai nodded, and before he could do anything more than moan, he was coming again, tears slipping from his eyes.  A few more thrusts had you coming as well, sighing into the crook of his neck.  You laid atop him for several minutes, pressing lazy kisses to his jaw, before pulling off of him, retrieving a damp cloth and your contraceptive from the bathroom.

Nikolai was on another plane, he was so blissed out.  When you returned to him and after you’d cleaned the two of you up, he clutched you to him, sighing happily.  “Fuck, that was….” he trailed off, and you smiled.  “Good?”  “More than good, Y/N.  Shit…”  You snuggled closer to him, tugging the sheet up to cover your bodies.  “I can have him arrested, if you want,” you said, and Nikolai furrowed a brow.

“Who, love?”  That made you laugh.  “Wow, I really did fuck you so hard you forgot his name.  Richards, Kolya, I’ll have him thrown in the dungeons.”  Your husband smirked, shaking his head.  “No, my love, you don’t need to trouble yourself.”  You propped yourself up on an elbow, making puppy-dog eyes at him.  “But it would make me so happy…”  Nikolai laughed, pulling you back into his arms and kissing you.  “If it would make you happy, then of course, darling,  Arrest that bastard.”  You kissed him then, soft and gentle.  “I love you, Kolya.”  “Not nearly as much as I love you, my dear.”

[fashion-from-the-past]

Silk brocade sack back gown, 1776 – 1778. © The Olive Matthews Collection, Chertsey Museum. Photo by John Chase Photography.

[threadtalk]

High res photo alert! I just want to hug whoever takes these photos at the Museum of New Zealand, because OMG. The detail!

I think I'm in my red/pink/blush gown era, because this is another one that I just had to share.

This robe à l'anglaise retroussée dates from the 1770s-1780s, and is English. It's made of silk damask, one of my favorites, in this gorgeous burgundy and cream silk floral pattern. Unlike the French sack back gowns of this time, this one laces up tight on the other side, hence it's à l'anglaise.

Retroussée refers to the skirt length, which would have been pulled up.

This silhouette made a big comeback in the 1840s and the 1880s. And you can see why! It's pretty classic.

Robe à l'anglaise retroussée, 1770-1780, England, maker unknown. Gift of Mrs B Vye, 1951. CC BY-NC-ND 4.0. Te Papa (PC000071)

[discount-shades]

Dead or Alive: Chapter 8

Chapter 8: For a Few Dollars More

A/N: I think there is one chapter left in this story, I hope to get it written soon but it is back to school and my life is really busy now. But it will get done! Also big thank you to all the lovely readers out there who've commented and sent asks in. You have put such a big smile on my face and been so encouraging! I’ll answer them all soon I promise!

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader 

Warning: Western themed violence. 

Word Count: 2400 ish

Summary: Sugars POV of the robbery. 

Previous     Masterlist     Next  

The light from the burning wagon illuminates the engine of the train as it rolls to a stop. The raindrops that you hadn’t before noticed are shining in the light as they fall. The normally steady rhythm of your heart has increased so dramatically that you can hear it pounding in your ears. 

Mikey nudges you and you follow him onto the first passenger car. ‘Fanboy.’ You have to start thinking of him as Fanboy during the robbery. It wouldn’t be good if you gave away the gang's identities by not using the right name.

A gunshot from the back of the train splits the air and you whip your head in that direction before tearing your eyes away and following Fanboy up the steps. Jake is at the back of the train, but you can’t think of him now. Can’t think of the fact that he wants you to stay. 

Payback meets you at the top of the stairs, coming up from the other side and you follow the two men into the carriage, smoothly drawing your revolver as you go. Jake’s tutoring and weeks of repetition serve you well. Behind your bandana you scan the terrified faces of the passengers, looking for Roberts. 

“Alright everyone,” Payback calls out, pointing his rifle at the crowd. “We are here to liberate some of your worldly possessions.” A woman at the back whimpers and shields her young daughter. Looking through the woman's arms your eyes meet the little girl's terrified blue eyes and quickly look away. “If everyone plays nice and puts their valuables in the bag, no one will get hurt.” He starts walking down the aisle. 

Fanboy shakes out a canvas sack and follows payback down the aisle. Mutely people begin to rummage in their pockets, emptying their goods into the sack. A few rows down Payback abruptly smashes the butt of the rifle into a man's nose causing the woman beside him to scream. He then reaches into the man's coat and pulls out a revolver and admonishes the man. “See, I said if you played nice, no one would have gotten hurt.” Fanboy moves forward and begins patting down the man. Inside a pocket he finds a wad of money.

Fanboy makes a disapproving clicking sound with his tongue. “Now you have no money and a broken nose.” He shakes his head sadly at the man clutching his bloody nose, “You could have just had no money.” 

When they reach the woman with the girl she is still using her body to shield her daughter. “Sugar.” Payback calls out your name as a command and nods to the woman and you take a deep breath. This was your role. You step forward and begin patting down the woman. When your hand brushes against a small coin purse hidden in a fold of her gown you glance up and meet her terrified eyes. 

She is young, barely twenty, but she has the same beaten down look you have seen in the eyes of the women you have known throughout the years. The fading yellow around one of her eyes tells you her soul is not the only thing beaten down. “Please, it’s all we have.” Her lips barely move when she speaks. The eternity that passes between you is broken when you glance down at her daughter. The girl's dress is threadbare and too short. When she meets your eyes the tears that had been threatening to fall the whole time finally spill out and slip silently down her cheeks. 

“Nothing.” Your voice carries as you step away from the woman, leaving the coin purse tucked in her dress. Payback doesn't question you and carries down the line. A gunshot from the engine of the train has you looking back the way you have come, even though the coal car blocks you from seeing where Coyote is dealing with the engineer. 

Turning, you follow Payback and Fanboy into the next carriage, scanning faces for Roberts. You carry on through the train, occasionally searching for the few women passengers aboard. Eventually Fanboy gets out a second bag for valuables. 

“He’s not here,” you mutter to yourself looking back up the train when you reach the last passenger car. You glance around the train car one last time but the cold eyes of the man who tried to have you executed are not there. Roberts is not among the passengers. “Roberts wasn’t here,” you whisper to Fanboy as you leave the last passenger car and step out into the rain. 

“It’s fine,” Payback says as he heads into the first luggage car, “Bob and Phoenix probably have him.” When you go to follow you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. Freezing you squint into the darkness. There is someone out there, you can see movement in the light cast by the roaring fire in the wagon. Without thinking you jump down from the train, the ivory grip of the revolver now warm in your hand as you creep into the darkness. 

Slowly you move away from the tracks, the sound of your footsteps crunching in the gravel give way to the squelch of mud as you slip into the brush. The engine fading behind you as you move further away. Frantic footsteps meet your ear and you follow them, moving quickly after the gasping breaths of the person you are chasing. 

Another bolt of lightning splits the sky and for the briefest moments you see him. The gunshot rents the air before you have realized you have fired. “Stop running, Roberts!” You follow him into a clearing and you see the outline of the man as he turns to face you. Another strike of lightning, simultaneous with its clap of thunder confirms who you have followed.

 His usually pristine suit is torn from his scramble through the brush, and mud cakes his knees where he has fallen. In the dark the bullet you fired has missed but the fear it caused is still in his eyes as he raises his hands in surrender. 

“Hand it over Roberts!” Your voice is steady despite the pounding in your heart. 

“Hand what over?” The fear in his voice is satisfying, “You have the wrong person.”

“The money for the spur line, William.” You sneer back, knowing that the use of his first name would enrage him. He had once fired a hand for using his given name. 

The shadow in front of you motions at the train. “It’s on there. I’m sure your friends have already found it.”

“Bullshit.” You pull the hammer on your revolver back and the click causes Roberts to freeze. Angrily you stalk towards him, the undergrowth scraping at your legs and tugging at the duster you wore. “I know you Roberts, and there is no way in hell you would let that money out of your sight.” Unconsciously his hands lower as he runs them over the lining of his coat.

You know where the money is. 

The sound of footsteps frantically running towards you meets your ears and Roberts eyes flick over your shoulder. In the dark Roberts cowering stance shifts to one of confidence. “Someones coming,” he calls out. “The only question is whether they are coming for me, or if they are coming for you.” 

A tendril of fear runs down your spine as you realize how foolish it was to chase after Roberts in the dark alone like this. “It doesn’t matter,” you murmur, voice barely loud enough to hear.

“What?” Roberts replies mockingly, despite the gun pointed at his chest.

“It doesn’t matter.” You call back firmly and Roberts chuckles darkly. 

“Mr. Roberts!” The voice comes from the stumbling footsteps behind you and your heart sinks but your gun remains steadily pointed at Roberts’ chest despite the ache developing in your arm. 

“Looks like I’m the lucky one.” Light isn’t needed for you to be able to picture the sneer on his face that accompanies his oily voice. “I wonder how much time I’ll have with you before the authorities come to get you?”

The same fear that accompanied the last time you were alone with Roberts returns like ice in your veins as the footsteps grow louder. “Mr Roberts!” The voice calls again and this time Roberts calls back.

“Over here!” Before you can respond another gunshot sounds but you don’t feel the accompanying pain you would expect from a wound.  Instead you hear a cry from the man behind you and the sound of his body crumpling to the ground. 

For the first time since you caught Roberts you take your eyes off him and turn to the man stepping into the clearing. “I told you he wasn’t worth the risk, Sugar.” Jake’s voice sends warmth through the veins chilled by Roberts’. 

“I couldn’t let the hat money get away.” You reply, finally able to lower your arm when you see Jake casually point his gun at Roberts. 

“Well go get it.” Jake chuckles as you stalk towards Roberts, holstering your gun as you go. Jake moves with you and points his gun directly at Roberts head when you reach him. Flipping open his coat you feel the lining and find where he has cut into the silk and slipped something inside.

You reach down and pull out stacks of paper, repeating the steps for the other side and tuck them into the pockets of your coat. “I know you.” Roberts sneers. “You’re the little whore who used to work for me.” 

Gritting your teeth you smoothly pull your gun, cocking it at the same time, and press the muzzle into Robert’s gut. “You missed a few things leaving the train so soon.” You say casually in response. “Give me your wallet.” 

 Roberts can’t see the grin on your face from behind the bandanna you wear but you know Jake can tell from the way he shifts beside you. “Pocket watch too,” you tell Roberts as you take the wallet he hands you. “And that pretty gold tie pin there.” You tap the gun against the tie pin he wears. 

Roberts places his valuables in your hand and you hear Jake whistle for Jet as he begins to move away. You stay frozen, gun pointed at Roberts’ chest. It would be so easy. Just squeeze one finger and the man who tried to rape you, tried to have you hung, would be dead. 

“Sugar let’s go.” Jake’s voice sounds like it's coming from under water. A distant sound barely registering in your mind. Something large is crashing through the brush, moving towards you and you stay perfectly still, gun fixed, staring into the face of the man who ruined your life. 

It’s Jake’s touch that brings you back. His fingers are soft as they slide along your back and down your arm, gently tugging your gun arm away. “If you want him full of lead, I’ll shoot him for you, Sugar, but we gotta make tracks.”

Your eyes slide away from Roberts’ face as you turn to look at Jake. His expression is calm and reassuring; his touch, gently running down your spine, is grounding. You take a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. 

“You kill me and they will set the army on you.” Your eyes slide back to Roberts. “You and all of your friends.” You know he is right. There is no way they would let you get away with murdering the man who employed the whole county and had the contract to provide beef for a large portion of the army.

Your eyes travel to Roberts head and a thought crosses your mind. “Is that a new hat?” 

Roberts stutters at the abrupt change in conversation and raises a hand to caress the brim. “Yes,” he says quietly before clearing his throat. “Yes, it is.” 

“Hmmm,” you nod in commiseration, “it looks expensive.” 

“It was.” 

“Well I think you should hand it over too.” Roberts scowls at you but complies and hands you the hat. 

You look at the label on the inside but it is too dark to read. “Is this a Stetson?” you inquire mildly, as if it was a conversation over tea and not the barrel of Jake’s revolver. 

“It is.” he grinds out between clenched teeth, as if the act of being forced to converse politely with you is causing him physical pain. 

“I've been looking for one of these," you say brightly and hand the hat to Jake. He holsters his gun and you automatically draw yours, keeping the weapon trained on Roberts as Jake trades the hat for the one on his head and checks the fit. 

“What do you think?” he asks, modeling the fit. 

You hum as if considering it before frowning and shaking your head, “It’s not your color.” 

“True,” Jake says sadly and replaces his original hat on his head. “Still, I would hate to see such a fine hat wasted.” With that he flings the hat into the air and draws his gun. He fires three shots before you realize what has happened and has holstered his gun and is walking over to pick up the hat out of the mud. How he is able to see so well in the dark is beyond you. 

Jake walks back over wiggling his fingers through the three holes in the crown of the hat. “There,” he says, happily plunking the muddy hat back on Roberts’ head. He turns to you. “So do you want me to shoot him, or can we go now?

“Let him live.” You pull your gun again and jab it into Roberts’ gut, relishing in his wince of pain. “But know this Roberts, if we could kill you today, we can kill you any day.” He audibly swallows and you smile. “Stay out of my way Roberts, or your death might be worth the army coming after me.”

You jab him again with the gun, “Understand?” At Roberts frantic nod you holster your weapon and move away, needing to separate yourself from his presence. 

Jake hand flits over your arm as you walk by him then he turns to Roberts, “Well I can’t say this was fun, but thanks for the target practice.” He turns and mounts Jet who has been standing placidly behind you this whole time. Jake leans down and pulls you up behind him before gathering his reins and riding away. 

[princesssarisa]

I like adaptations of Cinderella or Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur that draw on the oral tradition of the heroine giving the Prince a riddle about her identity, based on their earlier meetings when she was in her rags. But which don't have the Prince physically abuse the "dirty scullery maid" in those earlier meetings the way he does in traditional oral tales, and which base her riddle on something else.

In traditional versions of Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur, where the heroine works as a servant at the palace, she typically takes off the Prince's boots for him, only for him to throw them at her, or fetches water for his bath, only for him to refuse to bathe in water touched by such a filthy girl and throw it onto her. (Or some other such things.) Or in some versions of Cinderella, she meets him on the road one day, he accidentally drops his riding whip, and she hands it back to him, only for him to swat her with it just because she looks so filthy and ugly. Then at the ball or at church, when he falls in love with the "mysterious lady" without knowing her real identity, he asks her where she comes from, and she replies that she's from the land of "Boot" or "Bath" or "Pick-Up-the-Whip." This traditionally happens three times over the course of the story.

This obviously doesn't work so well in a more modern retelling, since we're not so inclined to accept a heroine being abused by her future love interest, or a prince who's supposed to be the good guy casually abusing a servant or a peasant girl.

But a few adaptations find substitutes.

For example, Jim Henson's The Storyteller retells the story of Donkeyskin/All-Kinds-of-Fur as Sapsorrow, and has the heroine draw her cryptic statement at the ball from a verbal insult the initially-rude Prince gave her. The second time the Prince interacts with Sapsorrow in her furry disguise, he says that "cats chase mice, hens lay eggs," never the reverse, and that likewise he has (and wants) nothing to do with her. Later, at the ball, when he asks the beautiful princess where she comes from, she says she lives "where hens chase mice and cats lay eggs."

Then there's the classic 1973 Czech film Three Wishes for Cinderella. Cinderella and the Prince meets repeatedly before the ball: both in her ordinary rags, where they exchange some sassing and insults but earn each other's respect, and at a royal hunt, where she disguises herself as a boy and outshoots all the men. At the ball, when he asks her to marry him, she insists that first he answer three riddles: "Whose face is smudged with ashes but isn't a chimney sweep? Who has a feathered hat and a crossbow, but isn't a huntsman? Who wears a gown embroidered in silver, but isn't a princess?"

Then there's the 2011 adaptation of Aschenputtel from the German Christmas fairy tale anthology Sechs auf einen Streich. In that one, Prince Viktor and Cinderella meet twice before the ball: the first time, he accidentally causes her to fall face-down into a mud puddle, and the second time, she accidentally spills a sack of flour all over herself. Both of these scenes are friendly and funny, though of course far from traditionally romantic or dignified. At the ball, when he doesn't recognize her, she tells him that they've met twice before, and that their meetings were "first all black, then all white."

They all capture the essence of the older versions with their cunning, riddling Cinderellas, but without the uglier part.

@adarkrainbow, @ariel-seagull-wings

[bizarrelittlemew]

hi! you made a comment about the aziraphale eating meat scene being like, sex scene camerawork, do you mind elaborating?

hi! I'm guessing it's my tags on this post?

I'm not an expert or anything so I'm not sure I'm really the best person to break this down but I can elaborate a little (screenshot-heavy post coming up - click to enlarge)

the linked post already talks about the metaphor of Aziraphale giving in to carnal desires and bodily pleasures with Crowley, which speaks for itself ✌️

but this is also filmed very much like a sex scene (or like, a love-making scene, really):

the lighting is a big one. the main light sources are the candles, giving us warm, flickering light casting soft shadows over the characters, who are often lit from the side or behind:

there are candles around the pillar behind Aziraphale and presumably some to the side, the same ones Crowley's face is lit by. the light seems even warmer in the screenshots below (yes i chose this screenshot specifically because it is certainly also a choice to have so much focus on Aziraphale licking the meat before eating it) (also notice how they really amp up the lightning and thunder outside once he starts eating. wildness of nature being let loose)

there is nothing more romantic than candlelight and even though these men are covered up to their necks, the lighting makes their skin look soft and warm, very typical of love scenes (of course they act it out like a seduction too)

then we have positions and camera angles. we might as well call this "blowjob angles" - Crowley is reclined on the sacks and is largely filmed from, well, below, so that we look up at his face:

meanwhile, Aziraphale has his back to the camera with something big, warm, and meaty in front of him, which he goes to town on sloppy style, face shining with grease and meat sweat and all, and he has his mouth full for a lot of the conversation:

and jfc Aziraphale DEVOURED that ox, look how intact it is before he gets started, and how later he has CLEANED those ribs (also red red red colors - red stripes on Crowley's clothes, red on the ribs also creating "stripes" in the frame, you could replace one with the other):

(I could also go into how Aziraphale is in a long, white gown (wedding night/virginity) and his nervousness for the consequences/going to hell by the end of the episode, but that could be taken to a level of discussing religious indoctrination and its effects on relationship to sex that I think others can do better than me)

I think these were my immediate thoughts, though you could probably go a lot more into it ✌️

so in conclusion, this post 🤸