#vicomtesses

[fuckyeahcostumedramas]

Colette Dalal Tchantcho as Ondine, Vicomtesse de Valmont in Dangerous Liaisons (TV Series, 2022).

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue April 1, 1953

Viscountess d'Harcourt, née Françoise d'Origny, in the magnificent wedding dress that Schiaparelli designed especially for her - a Norman dress and headdress in tulle and satin embroidered with pearls and rhinestones.

Vicomtesse d'Harcourt, née Françoise d'Origny, dans la magnifique robe de mariée que Schiaparelli a conçu spécialement pour elle - une robe et une coiffe Normande en tulle et satin brodées de perles et de strass.

Photo Robert Doisneau vogue archive

[gogmstuff]

1908 (Feb issue) Les Modes - Vicomtesse Jean de la Jonquiére - photo by Boissonas & Taponier. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1486X1489.

[perfettamentechic]

29 gennaio … ricordiamo …

29 gennaio … ricordiamo … #semprevivineiricordi #nomidaricordare #personaggiimportanti #perfettamentechic

2022: Enrico Olivieri, è stato un attore italiano attivo fino al 1960, noto soprattutto per i suoi ruoli come attore bambino tra il 1948 e i primi anni cinquanta. Il suo esordio al cinema risale al 1948. Diplomatosi nel frattempo ragioniere come molti altri attori bambini del cinema italiano decide di abbandonare le scene quando con la crescita i ruoli offerti e le possibilità di lavoro si…

[beatricecenci]

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (French, 1780-1867)

La Vicomtesse d’Haussonville

[anneapocalypse]

On Cullen's Earnestness

In my current playthrough of Dragon Age: Inquisition, this one early war table quest caught my eye that I think offers a good bit of insight into Cullen’s character.

In “Truth or Dare: The Imperial Court,” Vivienne alerts Josephine to a letter she’s received from an acquaintance, purporting to “warn” Vivienne of the suspect company she has taken up in joining the Inquisition. The letter reads thus:

My dearest Vivienne,

You cannot have heard the shocking allegations against the Inquisition, or surely you would never have been seen with them. Allow me, as a friend, to open your eyes. People are saying that Divine Justinia is, indeed, alive, but that the Inquisition—her closest advisors and most trusted servants—have orchestrated all this chaos on her orders. That it was Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Nightingale who sabotaged the Conclave in order to eliminate the opposition within the Chantry, and cut off the heads of the mage rebellion and templars in a single stroke. To save your own reputation, you must escape this acquaintance immediately.

With deepest concern, Vicomtesse Elodie de Morreau

In the context of the Game, we may understand that this Vicomtesse, while she may call Vivienne a friend, likely has no great concern for her reputation.

The Inquisition is the horse on which Vivienne is betting in order to better her own position (which is considerably shakier than she lets on, but that’s another post); Vicomtesse Elodie is simply making a different bet. If Vivienne heeds her warnings, and the Inquisition never achieves public favor, then Elodie’s advice was correct and Vivienne is indebted to her. If Vivienne heeds her warnings and the Inquisition does gain public acclaim, then Elodie has disrupted Vivienne’s opportunity for advancement, and she also wins. And if Vivienne does not heed her advice and the Inquisition remains a pariah, Elodie gets to watch Vivienne go down with it, smugly saying “I told you so.” Only if the Inquisition thrives and Vivienne with it does Elodie lose this bet—and Vivienne is clearly interested in seeing that outcome, and helping it come about.

The important thing is that the specifics of the accusations against the Inquisition are absolutely irrelevant here. This conspiracy theory about Justinia being secretly alive and the Left and Right Hand doing a sabotage to secure Chantry power—it’s all nonsense, and I doubt the Vicomtesse truly believes it. More critically, she likely does not care whether it is true. Repeating this rumor is just a means to a desired outcome.

If you’ve ever argued with a conspiracy theorist who seemed to simply change their position every time you backed them into a rhetorical corner, you may have realized that facts are largely ineffective at combating this sort of thing.

And of the three advisors, Cullen is the only one to get hung up on the content of the rumor, rather than its source and its purpose. Josephine and Leliana, seasoned players of the Game, both recognize this stupid rumor for what it is. Both of them ignore the substance of it and instead focus on its purpose: turning public opinion against the Inquisition. Josephine proposes to combat it by seeking noble favor elsewhere and leaving it to those allies to do the work of actually arguing against the rumors. Leliana is more interested in finding out with whom the rumor originated.

Leliana also makes the particularly savvy observation that if they were to combat the rumor by attempting to prove Justinia’s death, they would simply be providing their opponents more ammunition to use against them later. Leliana recognizes that “The Divine is alive, and you’re hiding her!” isn’t an earnest accusation, it’s bait. And if you take the bait, if you say, “Actually the Divine did die; here’s her remains to prove it,” then your enemies can say, “Aha! And how do you know she’s dead? It’s because you people killed her!” Or, best case scenario is they just bait you into wasting a lot of your time proving the accusation false, which is exactly what happens if you let Cullen take the bait.

Again, you might have had a similar experience if you’ve ever tried to “debate” a person whose strategy is making outrageous claims, letting you waste a lot of time earnestly debunking them, and then ignoring all your arguments and simply making another, equally outrageous claim.

In Cullen’s case, what happens is poor Knight-Captain Rylen is tasked with leading a field trip of Orlesian nobles through the grisly ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, while asking them to please not touch the red lyrium, and no, you cannot take a charred corpse home as a souvenir, please milord I must ask you not to touch the red lyrium. I’m sure that was an excellent use of everyone’s time and resources.

But it’s easy to understand why Cullen responds this way! It’s a very instinctual and human response! “Well, you’ve just said a thing that is very obviously untrue. I’ll prove to you that it’s untrue! And this will solve the problem of you being wrong, and then we can all move forward together. Right?”

It’s an eminently reasonable response, so long as you assume that the other party is being reasonable and engaging with you in good faith.

Cullen assumes they are. Josephine and Leliana know they’re not. (Vivienne also knew this; hence her handing the letter over to Josephine to deal with instead of bothering to reply herself.)

And you can probably see how Cullen’s earnestness, his desire to believe that other people are also operating earnestly and in good faith, could lead him down some dangerous paths.

Knight-Commander Meredith was also a conspiracy theorist. The difference is that her conspiracy theories were about people she had near-absolute power over, with terrible consequences. And working under the authority of someone he wanted to believe in, someone he absolutely would have taken as entirely earnest (because in many ways she was earnest, at least in her belief that magic was dangerous and must be controlled), it would have been easy for Cullen to assume she must be acting in good faith, even when his misgivings arose. “She needs a spine of iron to survive her position,” he says to Hawke. And like anyone arguing in bad faith, Meredith could move the goalposts when it suited her. No signs of blood magic discovered? That only proves how well they’re hiding it. The tower must be searched top to bottom. The First Enchanter objects? He must be one of them. Dissent among her own templar ranks? Must be the blood magic controlling their minds. As Dan Olson puts it in his video In Search of a Flat Earth, conspiracy theories make facts subservient to outcomes, which is why the "facts" can easily be rearranged and discarded at will—all that matters is the actions those facts justify.

Of course Meredith’s beliefs were, again, quite different—more dangerous, and far more earnestly held than this silly Orlesian rumor about the Inquisition. She was also under the influence of red lyrium at the height of her paranoia. But conspiracy theories often feed on paranoia, and Meredith’s beliefs were still ultimately beliefs that could be bent to justify the outcome she (and her superior, Grand Cleric Elthina) desired: mages must be controlled, whatever the cost.

Cullen has managed to extricate himself from Meredith’s mindset. But he hasn’t yet learned, I think, that conspiracy theories and irrational beliefs can’t be overcome simply by reason. That’s also very understandable for someone in his position. When you’re in the process of overcoming some very wrong beliefs yourself, things you earnestly believed, it’s very natural to want to believe that everyone else is just as earnest and can be persuaded; in fact, you have a personal stake in believing that, because if other people can be redeemed, that means there’s hope for you.

Do I think this justifies the things Cullen was complicit in during his time as a templar, or any misguided opinions he may voice during his time with the Inquisition? No, that’s not why I’m saying all this. But I think it’s an interesting aspect of his character and one worth exploring. Cullen is often characterized as the blunt instrument advisor, his answer to most war table questions being “send troops”; in Josie’s words “the hammer for whom every problem looks like a nail.” But I think some of his offered solutions do offer compelling insights into his character, and this one certainly does—as well as an interesting example of how this approach to the world and other people can go wrong.

[edwardian-girl-next-door]

Fashions of the Belle Epoque

by fiveminutehistory.com

list of paintings below the cut off

1874 - The Blue Lady by Pierre Auguste Renoir

1878 - Portrait of Jeanne Samary by Pierre August Renoir

1882 - Harmony in Pink and Grey: Portrait of Lady Meux by James McNeil Whistler

1889 - Vicomtesse de Montmorand by James Tissot

1893 - The Visitor by Phillip Burne-Jones

1897 - Catherine Vlasto by John Singer Sargent

1905 - Portrait of Elizabeth Wharton Drexel by Giovanni Boldini

1909 - On the Heights by Charles Courtney Curran

[maddiealyse56]

 Black Royalty, Nobility, & Leaders (in historical and fantasy films/tv shows) Pt 3

Mr. Malcolm || Mr. Malcolm’s List

Lady Russell || Persuasion (2022)

Ondine, Vicomtesse de Valmont || Dangerous Liaisons (Starz, 2022)

Princess Selika || The Adventures of Selika

Miriel, Queen Regent of Numenor || Rings of Power

Lady Laena Velaryon || House of Dragons

Lord Arkady || The Great (Hulu)

Lady Ethelfritha Rose Splinter of Devon || Catherine Called Birdy

Alessandro de’ Medici, Duke of Florence || Il Moro

Peggy Scott || Gentlewoman/ Black Elite of Gilded Age

[fuckyeahcostumedramas]

Colette Dalal Tchantcho as Ondine, Vicomtesse de Valmont in Dangerous Liaisons (TV Series, 2022).

[stabbystiletto]

It's a pretty small part, but I dunno I always liked it lol 😅

A strange woman has been seen eyeing the Vicomtesse's car, but it's probably fine 🙂

(wait is that a crowbar)

It's fiiiiiiine 🙃

[chicinsilk]

Marc Bohan for Christian Dior Haute Couture Spring/Summer 1961 Collection. Viscountess Jacqueline de Ribes wears "Jazz Band" a black silk cocktail dress with a "roaring twenties" look.

Marc Bohan pour Christian Dior Collection Haute Couture Printemps/Été 1961. Vicomtesse Jacqueline de Ribes porte"Jazz Band" une robe de cocktail e nsoie noire au look "années folles".

Photo Luc Fournol/Pierre Derly

[elfyourmother]

XIV Blacktober 2023

01: Intro

HRH Princess Gisèle Surana Dangoulain-Varlineau des Fortemps-Haillenarte et Borel of the Holy Kingdom of Ishgard Dauphine de Fortemps et Haillenarte, Vicomtesse de Borel, Antecedent of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and Sorceress of Light.

[wheel-of-fics]

Ten first lines game

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don’t have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have.

Thank you so much @emotionalmotionsicknessxx, @catcorsair and @a-partofthenarrative for tagging me!

This is actually kind of terrifying because, current fic aside, all my stories are from 2019 at the latest, and I haven’t read them since. BUT HERE WE GO

1. “The first time she saw him, she thought him a ghost.” -Red Death Riding (current multichapter, E/C)

2. "They dressed for bed separately: Raoul in his robe, Christine in her lace-trimmed peignoir, and nothing beneath either garment." -Wedding-Night Reprise (2019 oneshot, R/C)

3. "Christine would always maintain that she'd have made it down the river just fine, thank you very much, were it not for the eagle." -Out of the Woods (2019 multichapter, E/C)

4. "By the time M. Reyer called for a fifteen-minute break, the dress rehearsal for Faust had devolved into three costume mishaps, two broken setpieces, a brief fistfight, and an incident with a goat." -Old Haunts (2019 smutty three-parter, E/C)

5. "Christine squinted at the nativity scene with a critical eye." -Kindred (2018 holiday oneshot, technically R/C but with focus on Erik and daroga too)

6. "At first, he's certain he has the wrong address." -Restoration (2018 fourshot, E/C)

7. "It was a beautiful day for a funeral." -The Ivory Tower (unfinished 2018 multichapter, E/C)

8. "'I am going to die, daroga.'" -Ghost Resurrected (2017 oneshot, pharoga)

9. "The bedroom is so quiet that Christine is certain it echoes the frenetic throbbing of her heart." -Budding Flame (2017 oneshot, E/C)

10. "The trouble with being a vicomtesse, Christine had determined, was that one always had to maintain a facade in public." -The Red Scarf (2017 oneshot, R/C)

Doing this made me realize how many of my fics are not on AO3 🙃

I feel like most authors I know have been tagged already, so if you haven't and you see this, I've officially tagged you!

[matyas-ss]

The Vicomtesse de Vaudreuil, Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun (1785). J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles.

[gogmstuff]

Images from 1909 issues of Les Modes -

Left 1909 (1 January issue) Les Modes Mlle. Gaby Deslys wearing lace dress by Zimmerman. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1445.

Right 1909 (1 Febuary issue) Les Modes Baroness Maurice de Rothschild. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots and left edge w Pshop 1024X1438.

1909 (1 March issue) Les Modes La Coiffure de Demain. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed right side 1024X1402..

Left 1909 (1 April issue) Les Modes Mlle Andrée Marly in Chary toilette photo-Henri Manuel. From gallica.bnf.fr.; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1405.

Right 1909 (1 April issue) Les Modes Mlle Templey in Paquin toilette photo-Félix. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pashop 1024X1402.

1909 (July issue) Les Modes Morning and dinner dresses by Paquin photos - l. by Boissonnas & Taponier, r. Félix. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1407.

1909 (1 May issue) Les Modes cover Duchesse de Vendome photo-Boissonnas & Taponier. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1412.

Left 1909 (1 August issue) Les Modes Comtesse d'Oppersdorff de Hohenlohe photo-Otto. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1403.

Right 1909 (1 August issue) Les Modes Comtesse Hocquart de Turtot photo-Keturah Collings. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots w Pshop 1024X1411.

1909 (1 September issue) Les Modes Comtesse de la Forest-Divonne photo - Fred. Boissonnas. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots and flaws w Pshop 1024X1407.

Left 1909 (1 October issue) Les Modes Étole et manchon d'hermine by Forrures Max photo-Boissonnas & Taponier. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1407.

Right 1909 (1 October issue) Les Modes La duchesse de Rohan photo - Eugene Pirou. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1412.

Left 1909 (1 November issue) Les Modes Robes et chapeaux by Jeanne Lanvin photo-Chéri-Rousseau. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1403.

Right 1909 (1 November issue) Les Modes Vicomtesse de Fontenay photo-Otto. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1253X1022.

[garnet-xx-rose]

Conversations in the Afternoon

Here’s the Love Never Dies fic I’ve had stuck in my head since the concert in London. Mild smut and domestic fluff

Christine loved an early dismissal from rehearsals. She loved her work, but a day when she could get home a few hours earlier than usual was always appreciated.

She could walk around the city, visit the markets, or even sign a few autographs if the locals were brave enough to approach her. (It was the fear of her mysterious suitor that kept them away)

But today, the acclaimed soprano wanted nothing more than to lounge around the house. Coming through the door, Christine took off her boots and ran upstairs, stomping her stocking-covered feet at each step.

The former Vicomtess was used to a house full of noise amongst the servants but enforced silence from her and her son. Speaking too loud, clinking utensils too hard, or playing the piano too late got the same scowl from her ex-husband at every instance. Now, living in a house with a partner who found value in every sound, Christine made noise whenever she could.

She opened her closet and shed her dress and corset for her favorite lace robes: light green and frilly. Christine walked over to the large mirror in their bathroom and took out the many pins in her hair. With the final pin pulled, her auburn tresses came down, and she shook her head, her curls now free. Christine stared into the mirror, spinning around to see her complete look. Between her voluminous hair and loose clothing, Christine felt sexy, another feeling she was getting used to.

She returned downstairs and poured herself a glass of wine before heading to the living room. Humming one of her lover's new compositions, she sat on the chaise and put her legs up, enjoying a few sips before stretching her arms and putting the glass down behind her. She snuggled into the chaise and closed her eyes.

The sound of the front door opening woke Christine from her unexpected sleep. She went to cover herself with the ties of her robe but stopped when she heard the baritone voice of her lover. Smirking, she pushed the robe off her shoulders and kept the robe untied, exposing her legs.

In walked the former Opera Ghost—groceries in one hand and a book of compositions in another. Humming to himself, Erik made his way to the kitchen. He jumped at the sight his eyes fell upon as he walked through the living room.

"Christine?!" Erik yelped, almost dropping his bags.

"Hello, Darling." Christine giggled, enjoying a full view of her angel.

His suit today was one of her favorites, a blue three-piece that fits nicely against his broad shoulders and wide stomach. Her body heated up at the thought of getting his jacket off and feeling him underneath.

Erik tried hard not to look like a fool gazing at his love. The way Christine's curls laid around her face and her robe hugged her frame reminded him of their first night together, when he welcomed her to his world after her spell-bounding debut in Hannibal. Things have become so different since then, yet still the same. His Christine, gorgeous as ever, laid out in a negligee, anticipating his touch.

Erik went to the kitchen to put the bags down and rushed back to Christine's side. He got down on one knee to meet her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You look exquisite as always." He proclaimed, drawing her closer to him.

Christine smiled.

"You as well." She responded, running her hands up his arms and kissing him.

Erik's hands twitched at the feeling of Christine's lips on his. Even months after they began officially courting, Christine so often wanting his kiss and touch was something he struggled to get used to. The urge to cry from such affections crept up on him frequently (and only occurred sometimes).

Christine continued to kiss him as she moved one of her arms from his jacket up to his neck. Stroking the covered side of his face, she slipped a hand under his mask and lifted it slowly. She felt Erik jump at her intrusion, but she continued her unveil when he didn't pull away. With the mask off, Christine placed it next to her wine glass and turned back to her lover.

"There's my beautiful angel," Christine whispered before kissing him again, caressing his unmasked cheek.

"Don't flatter me," Erik proclaimed in between kisses. Christine pulled away from him and looked at him questionably.

"You think I'm lying?" She demanded, frowning with her lips and eyebrows.

"Well, most people wouldn't see "this" as beautiful," Erik replied, circling his hand around his face to emphasize.

"And when have you ever cared what most people think?"

"Since I started making money off of what they think is entertaining," He responded bluntly.

Christine laughed and brought Erik closer to her. She ran her hand over his deformed cheek. She loved feeling the ridges on his face and how her touch made him shiver. The skin was so sensitive.

"Well, I think it's a shame most people can't see your beauty."

"What could you possibly mean?"

"How bright your eyes get when you think of a new composition." She moved her hand to pet his smooth, brown cheek, 'How gorgeous your skin looks in the sun".

The first time they strolled together on the Coney Island boardwalk was when she first saw him in daylight. She was surprised at how radiant he looked, how the sun naturally highlighted his skin. She sometimes felt sad that they couldn't experience this for ten years.

Christine snorted, "Whenever I'm out in the sun too long, I get all red and patchy." She groaned, "Why is it so much stronger here?"

Erik laughed. "Darling, I told you and Gustave to try the cocoa butter. It will help."

Christine pushed him away and stuck out her tongue. "But it makes me feel so greasy."

Erik leaned his lips to Christine's neck to kiss, "Yet it makes you taste even more delicious."

She giggled. "Well, if Gustave had a tone more like yours, he wouldn't get burned every time he goes to the beach."

Erik mumbled into her neck. "Well, I'm sure you were glad not much of me initially showed up in him."

Christine pushed Erik off of her. "Don't talk like that," She spoke sternly.

She hated it when he made these kinds of comments.

He turned away from her, "You don't have to lie to me. It kept you safe."

"It only helped a facade go on for far too long."

Silence filled the room. Erik kept his gaze away from Christine, ruminations controlling his mind. Christine tried to bring him back to her, but it did nothing.

Still turned away from her, she sighed and placed her fingers into Erik's hair, gently scratching at his scalp. She could hear his purrs, and finally, her love turned back in her direction. He laid his head on her shoulder and let out a quiet groan. Christine smiled and continued her strokes.

She loved playing in Erik's coils whenever she could. When she unmasked him at the end of Don Juan, she realized he wore a wig. A slick, black lace front covered patches of gray hair like corkscrews. She had never seen such a hair texture, and amidst all the chaos of his breakdown and her ex-husband's failed attempt at rescuing her, she had little time to take in all of him.

When she reunited with him ten years later, what stood out to her immediately was his full head of coils, free. They were short and still gray. But they were full, and she couldn't help but feel joy at the small sign that Erik was learning to take care of himself.

"Erik?" She said, "Erik, please look at me." He moved from his hiding spot in her neck and met her eyes.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you this. From the moment I knew I was pregnant, I loved Gustave, no matter what. Even though you left me, I was ready for anything!" She held his face. "I was just so happy to know I'd have a piece of you wherever I went."

Erik groaned, "I just can't forgive myself."

"What do you mean?"

He took her hands off his face to cradle them with his, bowing his head into their clasp. "I should've never left. I should've never left you in such a risky position."

Christine wanted to retaliate, but she stopped herself. Erik needed this moment to tell her whatever's been on his mind.

"I think about you giving birth to him and me not being there. What if he was born not like you? What the Vicomte and his family would've done."

Christine sighed and leaned down to touch Erik's forehead with her own.

Maybe if their child had darker skin or a mangled cheek, Christine's truth would've been revealed much earlier. But at least she wouldn't have lived a lie. Then, she could proudly hold her son and show the world who she adored and the beautiful bundle of joy made from their love.

"Gustave and I would've been together, no matter what. Regardless if you or Raoul were by our side."

Erik gasped at her words.

In his darkest moments, he imagined Christine rejecting Gustave when she first laid eyes on him and saw the horrid face of the Phantom back at her. He saw visions of Christine disposing of Gustave to maintain her wealthy, safe life with the Vicomte.

Once again, Erik was failing the woman he saw as the closest to perfection, underestimating her. He kept judging her as if she was his mother or his owner, people who only saw a devilish child to be exploited. And it wasn't fair.

He was always on edge to make his newfound relationship with Christine work. Terrified, he'd wake up one night to find his love and child gone from his home and world. But his struggle to fully trust her would be the reason for their failure if he didn't change his tune.

Christine thought she had lost her partner to his thoughts again, but his kiss on her knuckles showed something different. Erik took a deep breath, his nostrils and chest expanding.

"I'm so sorry, my love," He whispered. "I keep doubting you, and it's not right. But I am afraid. I fear one day, you will wake up from this new dream of ours and leave. I bring so much chaos and confusion to your life."

To Erik's surprise, Christine chuckled. "It's true it's never a dull moment between us." Her grip on his hands tighter. "But that's what makes life with you so fun."

She took one of her hands under Erik's chin and brought his face up to meet hers.

"Though last I recalled, my darling, you have the nasty habit of running off."

Erik let out a sigh of defeat. He couldn't argue with the truth.

"Forgive me, my angel? For always being such a fool."

Christine smirked. "I can think of a few ways for you to apologize." She leaned back on the couch at the right angle for the straps on her negligee to fall down her shoulders.

Erik's face went hot at the view in front of him. Too impatient for him to get a clue, Christine gripped his collar and pulled his lips to hers. Erik knew not to question her advances.

He got up from his knees and let Christine drag him on top of her on the couch. She wrapped her arm around his neck to deepen the kiss, her other hand swirling his coils, and she did the same with her tongue in his mouth. Erik clutched and caressed her hips and waist.

Erik shakingly glided one of his hands from Christine's waist to the top of her panties. He stopped when he felt the curls of her nether regions, unsure if he should go lower. Christine pushed his hand down, groaning in his mouth at the feeling of his large hand on her lower lips. Erik got the message and started to rub her clit gently, enjoying the feeling of her wetness coating his fingers. Christine's moans grew even louder. When Erik dipped two fingers into her, Christine broke away from his lips to cry out in pleasure. Christine rode herself on Erik's fingers, clutching at his shirt to handle all the sensations as he moved his other hand to her breast to play with her nipple while he sucked at her neck.

The sounds of the house were filled with the moans and gasps of the couple on the couch. But their song was interrupted by the front door opening again and a young boy's voice excitedly calling for his parents.

"Mama, Papa, I'm home!

Christine's groan when Erik entered a third finger turned into a yelp. Erik pulled away and gave her a look of concern, thinking he'd hurt her. His Christine's sweet sounds seduced him from hearing his son's call. Gustave shouted out again.

"Papa? Are you home?"

Christine pushed Erik off and fiddled with her robe, trying her best to hide her breasts and inner thighs. She rolled her eyes at her lover, who hummed in satisfaction at his fine-tuning of his wife, leaving her blushing and flustered. He helped her tie up her robe and fixed her hair to conceal the bites on her neck he could see coming in.

Gustave entered the family room to see his parents sitting on the couch, his mother smiling at him while his father rubbed his hand viciously on his pants.

"You didn't hear me?" The boy asked.

Christine got up from the couch, wobbling, to welcome her son with open arms.

"I'm so sorry, darling, we were just practicing a new aria."

Gustave was confused. "I didn't hear a piano. And it didn't sound like your usual singing, Mama."

Erik let out a hearty laugh. Christine looked at him with a scathing face to shut him up, which he quickly did. She turned back to her son with a warm smile.

"We were practicing some new genres."

She took his backpack and hung it up before leading him out of the room.

"Come along. I'll make you a snack."

Gustave looked up at his mother, "But why didn't I hear any instruments-"

"A cappella. Now, what would you like?"

Satisfied with her answers, Gustave stopped asking questions and recalled his day at school in great detail, complaining about homework and spilling the beans on his school friends' shenanigans. Christine nodded along at his tales and sent him upstairs to wash up.

Before heading to the kitchen, Christine returned to her husband and wrapped her arms around his neck again, her lips almost touching his.

"I expect more of your apology later tonight." She whispered before releasing him from her grasp. She turned away, her long curls slapping Erik's face as they tossed behind her. She walked back into the kitchen, making a note to swing her hips, reminiscent of her short-lived role as Aminta.

While Aminta was a character created from the depth of her Erik's peculiar mind, Christine was an alive mother and wife, living unapologetically in her womanhood. And she was no longer satisfied with a single duet.