beaded back

3

PINGAT JET BEADED BUTTERFLY EVENING CAPE

1890’s

Maison Emile Pingat A. Walles & Cie

Cream satin with chiffon shoulder drape beneath two layers of stiffened black net decorated as butterfly wings with silver sequins and faceted jet beads, the high neck having a large beaded wire butterfly at back.

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CHIFFON and METALLIC LACE EVENING DRESS, c. 1918.

White silk having sheer sleeveless V-neck bodice with silver lace trim and beaded back tassel over short sleeve bodice with wide silver lace band, vertical lace bands edge front and back looped panels over full skirt, pale pink silk lining, cloth flowers at waist

Beautiful in it’s simplicity! 

anonymous asked:

CAN WE PLEASE PLEASE TALK ABOUT HATEFUCKING HARRY!??? Like you maybe working in his team or whatever and you dont get along that very well but find eachother pleasant in other ways... and him murmuring under his breath whilst going down on you or pushing you up against the wall how much you annoy him at times but at the same time how good your cunt is and how well you two fit causeEEE HELP ME

YEET I LOVE THIS CONCEPT!!!!!!!! also im gonna just dedicate this to @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy real quick bc that bitch is the QUEEN of dirty talk and i hope i did her justice w this piece x [part two here]

“Fuckin’ insufferable, yeh know tha’?” Harry’s hot breath is ghosting along the shell of your ear, biting down on the skin harshly when you tip your head back. His fingers are wedged beneath the elastic of your panties, thumb rubbing your clit in tight, frantic circles. A low moan slips from your lips, and you let your eyes flutter shut.

“Not my fault that y-you get so whiny for no reason,” you eke out. You gasp and your eyes snap open, hand flying down to clamp around his wrist when he slides one finger into you. He’s merciless, hooking the digit right away and immediately petting against that rough spot that has you seeing stars.

“Oh fuck,” you say, turning your head to the side.

“Fuckin’ look at me,” Harry says, his voice low yet fierce. You shake your head, wanting to see how far you can push him.

Not very far, apparently, because he growls deep in his throat before his hand is fitting against the curve of your neck, thumb pushing against your jawline and forcing you to face him. Your lips part in surprise, and a squeak escapes your lips as you become accustomed to the sudden restriction of your breathing. Harry doesn’t hesitate, his thumb slipping into your mouth.

Keep reading

Run Away With Me

https://youtu.be/61EL69OZSlY

He was sweating, thick heavy beads running down the back of his leather jacket and soaking through his wife beater, his bruised and swollen face staring up at the White House in front him, it seemed so much bigger, so much more daunting. Would she forgive him? Would she want this? How could she? Everything he’d done, everything he’d become.

Lifting his knuckles to the very door he had walked through so effortlessly just last week, suddenly his fist was meeting air and he was face to face with the one person in his life that he would do anything for, the one person he was about to ask the biggest favor of his life.

“Jughead.” Betty whispered, she looked… she looked so broken, how could he have thought…He had listened to Archie so easily, so ready to accept the fact that she had given up on him too, that she was just like everyone else.

“Your face.. oh god your face… I’m so sorry, I didn’t think, I tried, I did everything he asked! I…” betty cried, tears falling in heavy raindrops down her cheeks as she sobbed.

“What?” The dark haired boy reached for her shaking hands, squeezing them in his “this isn’t your fault, it’s the Serpents, what do you mean…”

She ripped away quickly, something close to realization dawning in her darkened green eyes.

“You have to go. I broke up with you, you have to leave.” Her arms wrapped tight around her tiny body, shoulders heaving and eyes looking anywhere but at Jughead.

What? What was happening?

“Betty, I need to hear it from you. You need to tell me you don’t love me. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me, I don’t want to hear it from Archie, from anyone damnit Betty tell me you don’t love me.” He was yelling now, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes as he watched his girlfriends entire body shake, his fingers lifted her chin “tell me Betty.” He whispered, soft now.

Her face was twisted as she wept, her hands clutching his wrists.

“I can’t” she whispered so desperately broken, her voice almost unrecognizable.

He knew he had to do it now. Tell her everything

“I joined the Serpents, I’m a member, officially.”

Betty’s squeezed her eyes shut, dropping her forehead to his, nodding silently.

“Okay.” She whispered.

This next part would be harder if that was even possible

“Me and Toni kissed.”

Betty flinched away, her eyes opening, pain flooding through them.

“Okay.” She whispered again, slowly backing up towards the door. But Jughead was quicker, he grabbed her by the arm, tugging her back to his chest.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know why it happened, I was so angry, I had just gone through initiation and you were gone and she was just.. she was there.. she understood, I felt… I can’t make an excuse but I thought you were done with me I couldn’t take it.” He held her so tight, willing the stiffness of her body to subside, willing her to melt into him, be with him, still love him.

It was silent for an agonizing fifteen seconds before Betty spoke, hands tugging the lapels of his jacket.

“What do we do now?” She whispered.

He didn’t hesistate, didn’t wait for the right moment, sugar coat it

“Run away with me.”

Betty looked up, her eyes crinkling slightly

“That would be nice.”

Jughead shook his head, pulling the pink motorcycle helmet off the ground by his feet

“We can. We can go, we’ll take my bike, we’ll run away, I don’t know where we’ll go, I just… I know this is fast, call me crazy but I have… these plans. Let me be your ride out of town.”

Betty stared wide eyed as Jughead held the helmet out to her

“I… there are people here who need me, people who need you, we can’t just… go…” her eyes never left the helmet in his hands, her fingers running nervously through her loose ponytail.

“What about us? We do everything for everyone, I love you Betty, I need you and I know you need me too. It doesn’t have to be forever, just…. let’s go.. like Romeo and Juliet but we get to live happily ever after remember? We get that choice this time.” He pushed the helmet into her hands, holding her by the shoulders “I would never make you do anything you didnt want to but this town, it’s not safe not for anyone and…. I need you to be safe.”

Betty stared down at the pink helmet in her hands, flipping it over she caught sight of the hand carved crown on the front. That was all it took.

“Okay.” She whispered

Jughead stepped back

“Okay?” His heart was hammering in his chest.

“Okay Jughead, Run away with me.”

It happened fast after that, Betty grabbing something from inside, tucked against his leather clad back as they rode away from the house so filled with ghosts it was slowly eating Betty Alive, they drove past the trailer park, Red coppery blood still shiny on the dead grass where he had taken the beating of his life. They passed Pop Tate’s, the one place they found solice, the place they found each other.

When they drove past the Riverdale town sign “the town with pep” no one cried, the just kept riding.

They just kept running.

Possessed Halfling Boyfriend

I fell headover heels in love with @trash-chan-art‘s beatiful son Rovil. He’s the cutest Halfling but he’s also possessed by an incubus so he’s monster enough for me. 

   I had been traveling for a long time. I had just finished dealing with a mess up north. Now all I wanted to do was find a warm bed and sleep for a good solid week. It’s growing bitterly cold and I am not well equipped. It’s late by the time I find a small village. By then I am not able to find lodging or no one is opening their doors. The gnawing voice at the back of my mind is cackling at me.

   I sit down on a set of stairs, wrapping my cloak around me as tightly as I can. If this is all I have, then it is what I have to work with. I just can’t help imagining a nice, soft, down bed and waking to pancakes and coffee in the morning.

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Paths


I just finished one test. So I’m rewarding myself with something short and sweet. Another Hanzo thingy.

The first one is here. (My first interpretation of this interaction)

Something that’s been jiggling around in my brain for about a week or two.

This is Doomzo and Mchanzo. So fair warning. 

{Warnings: Sexual content mentioned(Nothing explicit), voyeurism(Mentioned)}


Hanzo has always been attracted to powerful men. Not a shock, considering he’s spent his entire life under the control of powerful men.

So when Akande Ogundimu stepped through into his family’s compound, a low bow at his father’s side, Hanzo knew. He knew in the way Akande watched him as they toured the main grounds, those strong arms tucked at his lower back, hands clasped. Hanzo could hear their fathers speaking quietly and he knew that an alliance would be struck between their families.

He was not aware that a marriage would be required.

He was also not adverse to it.

Akande was a generous lover, a strong presence at Hanzo’s side. He had an analytical mind that could rival Hanzo’s own. His tactical genius assisted Hanzo when his father deemed them worthy of assigning raids.

Akande visited frequently. Hanzo never visited him. Sojiro would never allow his only competent heir to leave the fortress of their home.

Hanzo was bitter, angry. He watched Genji flit around Hanamura with clouded eyes.

“Jealously is a double edged sword, Hanzo.” Akande’s fingers tip his chin up from where they lay in Hanzo’s room. The tatami doors are open and the cool wind strays across sweating flesh. Hanzo’s hair spills out across Akande’s chest, his hair tie was long gone and ripped away.

“I am not jealous.” He mutters.

Akande regards him quietly, hand sliding along Hanzo’s jawline and into his hair, “It burns within. Do not let that anger consume you.”

The kiss is soft, much softer than the sex has ever been.

His loyalty to Akande and his father shifts just slightly on his twenty second birthday. Genji drags him out of the compound, despite his protests. Akande waves him away and returns to whatever it is he was reading.

He meets the mysterious man in black at the bar. He’s young, perhaps as young as Hanzo himself. His hair is unruly and his clothing speaks of duty. There is a patch hidden in the confines of his pocket and Hanzo is part of an underground operation.They are no strangers to Overwatch’s matryoshka doll of an organization.

Blackwatch was in Hanamura.

Something thrilling erupts in the pit of Hanzo’s stomach. Rebellion at its core. Something he has longed for his entire life. That tingly sense of freedom and he wonders if this is the high that Genji’s lives on.

He takes the cowboy (‘Call me Jesse, darlin’) home with him. The man’s hands are rough and his voice rougher as he slips them up Hanzo’s clothes. His skin is alight, mouth hungry as he tastes cigars and whiskey hot like embers on his tongue.

“Are you going to share?”

Akande’s voice is a thunder of curiosity behind them. Hanzo startles, realizes where he is and who was in his room waiting for him.

Shame is the first thing to rush through him.

Arousal is the second.

He looks up at the blackwatch agent, thumbs  the beard at his jawline, “You will watch.” He speaks to Akande.

Akande’s laugh is dark, promising, “Only if I get you after, my dragon.”

He takes the agent named Jesse in his bed. Hands curled in the man’s unruly hair and insides burning from the frenzy of emotion Jesse releases. His words are frantic, rushed and bleeding with promises Hanzo knows he can’t keep.

Akande watches from the sidelines, waiting.

Jesse steals a rough kiss and his eyes are almost gold in the moonlight cast through Hanzo’s bedroom. He leaves in silence, one last look at Hanzo as Akande slips into the bed with him.

Akande is a brand, an overwhelming overstimulation.

Hanzo loves it.

But he dreams of Jesse.

Years pass. Akande comes to him with news. He has been taken under by a mentor. The second line of Doomfist. It is an honor, despite the atrocious the second Doomfist has committed. He asks Hanzo opinion and they discuss it over tea.

Akande is passionate, brilliant.

Hanzo’s smile is tight. His brother’s figure passes the doorway.

“We will be unstoppable together.” Akande declares.

Hanzo returns to his betrothed, can see the ambition and promise in Akande’s gaze.

He forgets about Jesse.

He murders his brother.

Blood drips down his hands, sword at his feet. His chest is tight, too tight and there seems to be no breath in his lungs. The dragon’s howl under his skin, distraught and screaming at the death of their own brother.

Hanzo flees.

He runs and runs, changing his name, his identity. He hides.

Akande’s capture spreads across the world. Contaminated by Talon. Taken down by a small team from Overwatch.

Hanzo hovers above his prison twice. He so desperately wants to see him.

Why did they stray so far from their paths?

They were supposed to rule together. They were going to be unstoppable.

But Hanzo is done with this criminal life. He roams the world, seeking redemption for the atrocity that he has committed. He mourns for his brother every day. Returns to the castle in his honor every year.

That is where he is reunited his brother once again.

His dragon is a beacon of green, a reminder of what Hanzo has done.  

Genji offers forgiveness.

Hanzo can not accept that.

He cannot.

Hanzo keeps tabs on Overwatch for a month before he drops onto its doorstep. The recall brings more than he thought it would.

Including:

Jesse McCree.

Who greets Hanzo with a tip of his hat and a smile that speaks volumes of their past.

“Never thought I’d see you again, darlin’.” His voice has aged, so has the rest of him. So has Hanzo.

“Nor did I.” Hanzo mutters.

Jesse swallows, pats his legs, “How about a drink?”

Hanzo lifts an eyebrow, nods, “I would….enjoy that.”

He is with Jesse for nearly a year when the Reaper assists Akande in his prison breakout. The doomfist gauntlet has been taken. Numbani is in tatters, a frenzy of political and civilian meltdowns.

Hanzo is alone on the battlefield when Akande lands before him.

He is just as imposing as he was in his youth, more so now with the golden gauntlet covering half his chest. The white markings are new. His footsteps are silent, despite his hulking size.

Hanzo is not afraid.

“Hanzo, you should consider joining us, I think we would see eye to eye.” It is not the first thing he expected Akande to say to him after so long apart.

Hanzo wrinkles his nose, nocks an arrow, “I would have little to gain from such an arrangement. No, I will find my own path.”

Akande stops before him. He is the enemy now. Hanzo should be afraid.

His left hand cups the side of Hanzo’s face, thumb across his cheek, “You are sure?” Akande’s voice lowers, as does his head.

Hanzo thinks of Genji. Of everything he has done. The anger that burned within him when he struck his brother from the sky.

He thinks of Jesse, a warm weight at his back every night. The smell of smoke and the taste of alcohol on the balcony of the watchpoint.

“We would be unstoppable.” Akande promises, “Talon could offer you more than just your empire, Hanzo.”

Hanzo closes his eyes, “I must refuse.”

A sigh, heavy and warm against his face.

“Losing you is difficult to bear.” Akande admits quietly, “You know I do not like refusal.”

Hanzo steadies his posture, jerks out of Akande’s grip and levels an arrow at his chest, “Then you should get use to my refusal from this point on.”

Akande grins, eyes dark and molten on Hanzo’s, “Then I look forward to seeing you again on the battlefield, my dragon.” He bows swiftly and slinks away.

Hanzo lets him.

Hanzo lowers his bow. Heart racing. Sweat beading down the back of his neck.

“-anzo!”

His comm fizzes to life, he did not realize it had been compromised.

“I am here.” He replies.

A relieved string of sighs on the other end from numerous members of his team, “Where are you? What’s your status?” Soldier 76’s voice is firm and bellows over the other questions of where he is.

“I will return to the rendezvous point shortly.” Hanzo states, “And 76?”

Yea?”

“Tell Winston that Talon is recruiting.”

anonymous asked:

honestly you're one of the best authors out here, truth. Can you please do smut with Taemin, your mind can wander with it... I just want my oppa😍

Try Me:

The door locked once it was shut, the blonde making his way towards you until he was pushing you down on the bed hovering above you. His eyes shown nothing but lust, and a bit of his cocky attitude, but those lips shown a smile that was seductive and inviting, leaning down to hover his lips above yours the male spoke, his breath smelling of strawberries and vodka as his hand moved to grip at your hair keeping your head in place. “So, are you ready to try me?”

It was supposed to be the impossible situation but here you were laying under Lee Taemin. This should have never been allowed to happen. If it wasn’t for the stupid party that your stupid friends invited you to, then you wouldn’t have gotten drunk talked too much shit and played spin the bottle resulting in you laying here under this man who looked at you like you were edible. It wasn’t the fact that you told Taemin he was a fuckboy or too pretty for you. No, it was the fact that you kept going, saying how he was too cute to be in bed with you because he couldn’t handle you. How he would probably be the submissive one begging for you to go harder and touch him. You shoved your foot in your mouth big time hurling insults at him about his sex life because you wanted to believe that. You told yourself these things in your mind for a reason. So, that you wouldn’t jump on him, be needy for him. But now look at you, pinned under him and already breathless from a little kiss that he placed on your neck.

“We don’t have to do this..” You rasped out trying to move your hands from above your head that he so effortlessly pinned down with one of his own hands. His legs slipping in between yours he gave a low moan, letting his free hand move to cup your breast through your shirt groping you gently as he looked up at you.

“No I think we do. You questioned a lot about me, so I know that you’re curious. But it’s also no secret that I want you and I’d be a fool to let you walk away now. Untouched, unmarked… Untainted.” He whispered lightly before his lips was crashing against yours knocking anymore arguments from your lips. He slipped his hand under your shirt to draw lazy patterns against your flesh, smirking against your lips as he kissed you tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss. His fingers scrapped against your hardened nipple that was poking against your bra resulting in your mouth parting to gasp and his tongue finding away inside of your wet cavern. You let out strangled moans from his touch, resting your hands under him because it took too much energy for you to pull at his grip and try to get free. Taemin greedily sucked at your tongue claiming your mouth as his even if it was just for a night.

He pulled back after devouring your mouth, his blonde hair falling into his eyes as his hands went for the hems of your shirt. You lay there watching as he lifted it off your body, his lips placing wet lewd kisses against your skin until he had the offending material off your body and scattered somewhere on his floor behind you. His hands didn’t worry about undoing your bra, too impatient and needy he slipped down the straps of your bra and yanked it down revealing your pert nipples and breast that begged for his attention. Grinding his hips down against yours, Taemin grabbed at your breast cupping them and playing with him, his tongue dancing across your flesh. He watched you humming and sucking on your breast, making slurping noises when he caused too much spit to get on your skin. He treated your breast like he was a feeding man needing his fill. Taemin bit on your nipples pulling them gently with your teeth letting them go when he felt he had done enough. He flipped you on your stomach grinding his hips into your ass as he undid your pants sliding his hands down past your pants into your panties and past the top of your pussy to rest it on your soaking folds. He chuckled breathlessly against your ear as his fingers danced up and down your lips parting them so that his long slim middle finger could rub your wet throbbing clit.

“For someone to talk so much shit about what I do. You seem to be the needy one here who can’t even contain your need for me right now. Just like a little slut. I bet you’re thinking about how good it’s going to feel when I finally fuck you hmmm? I can bet I’m bigger than some of my fingers combined and I can’t wait to stretch out this little pussy since you’re so sure that I won’t be able to handle you. I won’t stop until I have you screaming.” He promised licking the shell of your ear as his finger twirled around your clit slowly, your mouth filled with whimpers and pleas you were not going to tell him he was wrong or how good it sounded to you. Your hands pressed down against the bed because you were sure you’d fall over if you weren’t careful.

Taemin let his finger drag down your slit until he was sliding his long middle finger inside of your went pussy. It didn’t sting too much because you weren’t a virgin but he did have a length on his fingers that you couldn’t deny felt good. It had you gasping and arching your back to push your hips down against his finger. He smirked thrusting it in and out slowly, he slipped in his second finger after sometime scissoring your pussy open for something much bigger and harder. Taemin licked down your back slowly along your spine placing more wet kisses there wanting to see you squirm more for him. It didn’t take long for him to have you a whimpering mess wanting him to give you more, your head rolling forward to bite against the sheets as you rolled your hips down against his fingers. You wanted more fingers gripping onto the soft comforter that was under you.

“Ta-taemin please.” You whined softly looking up at him.

“Please what?” He asked curling his fingers to press them against your spot smirking as he licked his lips.

“I want you to touch me. Taemin make me cum.” You groaned out rolling your hips back once again. Taemin full on smiles moved to jerk down your pants and panties in one go, his hand moving to slapping your ass cheeks making them jiggle and sound off in the quiet room. Taemin spread your legs wide licking against the star of your ass before he pushed his tongue in causing you to gasp in surprise. Your face heated up and red as he licked and flicked against your asshole lubing you up and making sure that you were going to be stretched out for what he had planned. Once his tongue played with your entrance enough Taemin was moving back to grab at some of the beads he kept in his dresser beside the bed. Looking down at your helpless form he licked on a few beads moving behind you as he sucked on some more, lining them up with your anal entrance Taemin slipped them inside starting with the smaller beads. He moved them one by one until he had as many of the big beads in your ass that you could take without hurting you. He rolled you on your back smiling down at your naked panting flustered form.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I should have done this earlier. But don’t worry it won’t be the last time. Next time, I’ll enjoy you even more.” He teased as he stripped himself of everything he had on letting them pile together on the floor by your clothes. He spread your legs wide, reaching back over he grabbed a foil packet tearing it with his teeth. He slid the condom onto his shaft, his tip glistened with wetness from how aroused he had gotten.

His hands gripped onto your hips and he slowly rocked his hips forward pushing inside of you. Your lips let a hiss escape as you felt your walls being opened and stretched by his girth. Taemin felt so good inside of you, and part of you were glad you were not inexperienced because it would’ve hurt. Your hands moved up to grab at his biceps, rolling your hips up against his you moaned in pleasure not wanting to wait. He got the hint starting to slam inside of you at a fast pace, the bed shaking under you as he fucked into you. Your back arched off the soft surface as you rolled up your hips trying to keep up with his pace. Your wet pussy invited his shaft in every time he penetrated your walls and caused you to scream for him. You were keeping up until he reached down with one hand starting to slowly pull the beads out of your ass one by one. Taemin would give you a few harsh thrusts, slow his speed down and keep it gentle only to pull a bead out and start back up with it all over again. Your body shaking and writhing with the pleasure he delivered to you. You tried to calm down your loud screams of pleasure but it was no use because you were sure everyone could hear you and frankly you didn’t care right now. Taemin used his other hand to start furiously rubbing at your clit, two of his fingers pressing down against the soaked bud as his hips slammed against yours and his other hand pulled on the beads watching both of your clenching holes take him and the beads he was close to the edge growling and biting down on his plump lip to keep from cumming. In a few more strokes of his hips colliding with yours, he was pulling out the last few beads watching your face contort in pleasure as you cried out for him with your back arched and lips parted. Your eyes rolled back as your fingers clung to the sheets, stomach clenching and sweat falling from your body. Your holes were both clenching, your cum was sliding onto the condom, and feeling all this Taemin was no match for his desire resulting in him cumming as well. He slowed down his hips, helping you both ride out your orgasm as his fingers pull out the rest of the beads from inside of your twitching asshole your hips jerking as you whined.

“I know, I’m done you can rest for a bit.” Taemin chuckled as he moved to clean off the beads and tie the condom by the end throwing it in a trashcan. Moving he scooped you up in his arms, crawling to lay against the headboard with you he pressed his lips against yours smiling.

“Now, aren’t you glad you tried me?” He teased you gently rolling you over to lay on top of you starting another make out session.

All An Act

Jonerys Week Day 4. 

Angst. No character death but…angst. Because I just had this weird idea and I ran with it. 

They were supposed to take the city peacefully, because it was surrounded on all sides by the Unsullied and the forces of the other Great Houses, and the newly taken over Golden company. Cersei was alone, friendless, without allies. And yet, just when they’d been planning the invasion, Jaime had burst into the throne room with his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and a wild look in his eyes. “We can’t attack the Red Keep. She has caches of wildfire all over the city-if we don’t surrender she’ll blow up the city and everyone in it.”

The loss of life would be staggering, Jon knew. They couldn’t let that happen, no matter the cost.

But he hadn’t been expecting Dany to volunteer instantly for a suicide plan: allow herself to get captured and brought before Cersei, hope that they could play to her overconfidence and keep her distracted just long enough for a few of Varys’s little birds to disable the caches.

So of course, he’d gone with her.

Now he heard Tyrion’s voice in his head again. Remember, no matter how bad things get…if you move too early you’ll ruin it. You’ll get us all killed. Forget your honorable and noble side for the time being, even if it hurts-even if she screams. Remember what stands at stake. We’ll all need to have our wits about us when we’re in the city.

The alley was dark and quiet in the morning light. A rat the size of a small dog skittered over his foot and the smell of human filth assaulted his nostrils. Next to him Dany was faring only slightly better; she was wearing a hood to block out the worst of the sunlight (and hopefully, the stench). He didn’t look at her, just like they’d promised.

He pulled at the ropes binding his hands. They were strong, no give, just as Jaime said. If this was all a lie, and the Kingslayer was double playing them…they wouldn’t break easily.

Yes, this was a very bad plan. But there was nothing he could do about it now.

A couple of men in the gold cloaks of the City Watch saw them coming and barked their surprise, hurrying over to Jaime. Their eyes glistened cruelly and they held glasses of beer in their hands that sloshed over the side and puddled on the ground below. “You’re back!” The man who spoke was missing a handful of teeth and smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a year or two.

“And you brought a gift!” the other said. Jon liked him even less; he was hairy all over and a patch covered one of his eyes. He took a step towards him and Jaime pulled him back; there was something sharply reprimanding in the grip. Jon hadn’t known grips could convey emotion before, but he got the feeling it was trying very hard not to sigh.

He saw Dany tense as the man stepped towards her and roughly grabbed the back of her hood, yanking it back so her light hair glowed in the sunlight. “I have to say, when we got the call I didn’t believe you. Who would let the foreign bitch and her little pet out alone when they know the bounty that the Queen has put on their heads?”

“Stupid ones, that’s who. Stupid ones who still trust Lannisters.” Jaime’s voice was hard and cruel and it took everything that Jon had not to shudder. This was just an act. It had to be just an act. Tyrion wouldn’t take a gamble like this unless he was absolutely sure which side his brother was on.

The gold cloak pulled a dagger out of his pocket and held it to Dany’s throat-this time Jon did struggle and Jaime had to hold him back. A bead of blood formed on her neck, sparkling like one of Rhaegar’s rubies in the sunlight. No, don’t think about the rubies. Rhaegar died. We won’t. “She said she wants her alive-she didn’t say she wanted her unspoiled-”

“Enough of this.” Jaime’s voice was a bored drawl but there was something in it that made the men step back. “She’s the Queen’s property.” Property. Jon hated that word. “If you harm her, my sister will be very angry, I’m sure. Now let her know that we’ve arrived and will be coming shortly.” He pushed Jon forward a little harder than necessary and the guard that was holding Dany shoved her so hard she nearly fell. The two gold cloaks laughed and spat at her; Dany didn’t say a word as the spittle landed on the back of her dress. Again, Jon forced himself to remain still. “She can do to these traitors whatever she sees fit.”

Jon heard the other Gold Cloak say “Reckon she’ll leave any of her left over for us to share?” as they disappeared into an empty marketplace.

Not for the first time he wanted to run all the way back to the ship and leave with her in tow. He’d never been as frightened as he was now-and not for himself, but for her. He was only public enemy number two-he had no idea what Cersei would want to do to the woman who wanted her throne.

The trek through King’s Landing was brutally hot, even without his fur coat. He stumbled on loose pebbles and the rope around his hands made the skin chafe and burn. Jaime moved uncomfortably fast, almost too fast for Jon to keep up with.  And there wasn’t a trace in his eyes of the Jaime of the night before, who had been drinking so casually with Tyrion and had gotten so drunk he’d proposed to Brienne of Tarth. He was a different character altogether.

Luckily it was early and everyone was too drunk to be out on the streets. There was no one to throw rotten food or shit at them; they would have that dignity, at least.

Not for the first time Jon wondered if it would have been better to just let them all get blown up. The slums were full of people who would do whatever it took to survive, and ate Cersei’s lies hook, line, and sinker. But they were his people too now, he kept thinking. 

Finally the Red Keep rose up in front of them, glittering in the light of the rising sun. Jon wanted to stop and look at it but Jaime kept moving, shoving him whenever he got too slow. He nodded once to the guards as they passed through the gates of the Keep, which was echoing and already flooded with people. Most of them stopped to gawk but Jamie kept them moving, all the way down the hall and into the throne room. The doors closed behind them with an echoing bang of finality and he saw Dany flinch backwards imperceptibly.

If worst came to worst they would have to get out alive-together. He scanned the room for exits, silently counted guards, counted crossbows, weighed his options. There were a lot of guards-he didn’t like their chances. But he had faced worse odds and come out alive. They didn’t have to defeat the enemy-they just had to survive.

At another time maybe he would have thought the crown room was grandiose, decked out as it was in Lannister regalia. But it all seemed very tacky-the Iron Throne was imposing, sure, but the room felt slightly claustrophobic. It wasn’t like Dragonstone, with its open spaces and amazing vistas. Cersei sat on the Iron Throne, surveying her enemies-and it was easy for Jon to pretend to act frightened. He would have to act now, harder than he’d ever acted in his life. He had to find a way to convince her that they’d been captured, that they posed no real threat.

This was a trap. And they were the bait.

Jaime tugged them to a stop and looked up at his sister with a soft nod. “I come bearing gifts.”

He saw Cersei raise one eyebrow, surprised-and maybe impressed. “I must admit, I wasn’t sure that you would come back this time.”

“I learned the truth and saw the light. Family is what’s important.” He stepped away from Jon and Jon instantly felt rather than saw bows rise and tauten. The Kingslayer climbed the steps and kissed the Queen passionately and he felt that he should look away, as revulsion roiled in his stomach.

Cersei broke off the kiss quickly and stood, her black skirts sweeping around her as she stepped down the stairs. She’s insane. She’ll kill us, she’ll kill all of us. We’re just making it easier for her.

Can’t you trust me, Tyrion had asked him the night before. Back then he’d thought he could. But now…

The Mad Queen ignored him altogether, only looking at Dany. She took a step closer, then another, until the height difference between them was apparent-and then she carefully grasped hold of the hood and yanked it down. “Now how did you manage to find them?”

“It was rather simple. Our brother isn’t as good at keeping an eye on his lovebirds as he should be.”

“You said they were sailing North.”

“They were. But they were lying about the wights. We got to Winterfell and there was nothing there. No army of the dead, no hundreds of thousands of leagues. They were planning something very different instead.”

“A wedding.” To anyone else her voice would have been flat, almost disinterested, but Jon heard the way it seized on that one word. “They’re not just fucking.”

“They would make a powerful couple.”

“They would. Ice and fire-they’d be nearly unstoppable. And did they go through with it?”

“No. I…interceded before they could.” But even Jaime didn’t know about that night in the godswood, with their closest witnesses gathered in a circle around them, breath freezing in the cold air…

“And you’re sure she’s not carrying his spawn?”

“Her moon blood came yesterday.” 

Instantly all the tension seemed to leech from Cersei’s frame and she almost smiled. “So there’s no reason to keep either of them alive?”

“Of course not. They’re traitors. They should die deaths worthy of their crime.” Good. Jaime had done his part. Cersei would take them out to the square outside the Keep and amass the crowds to see the traitors beheaded and the confusion and disorder would give them enough time to slip away unnoticed…

Cersei nodded. “Wonderful. Take him to the black cells.”

Two things hit him in rapid succession: this was not what they had planned…and she’d only said him. Not her. Or even them.

Now he really was frightened. “But-”

The slap was a blur of movement and he was really only aware that he’d been hit when he found himself on the floor, his cheek vibrating with pain.  Dany let out a strangled gasp next to him and he saw her try to pull away from her escort. Stop, please. She couldn’t get hurt, especially because of him. “Enough!” Jaime practically roared. “You will listen to your queen. Or I’ll hurt her.”

I serve one queen, now and always. I have pledged myself to Queen Daenerys, in every way that matters. But he had to act, so he got to his feet, one hand still massaging his face.

“Leave him be,” Dany said, her voice clear and unwavering.

“Why?” Cersei asked. “You’re both in open rebellion to the crown. You both deserve to be punished.” She advanced another step but Daenerys refused to back down, solemnly standing her ground. “And need I remind you that you are alone here, with no friends, no allies, no dragons-” The word was practically a spit. “Anything you say to me I will take out on your lover. Anything he says to me I will take out on you. I have no qualms with hurting a girl, do you understand?” She didn’t wait for Dany to reply before she continued “We have to determine whether or not this is a trap-and until such time I believe it’s best to keep you both separated.”

Jon’s heart was throwing itself against his rib cage so hard that it hurt. Tyrion had planned for this contingency, hadn’t he? There were eyes in the Keep, eyes keeping watch over both of them…but would they be able to intercede, if something went wrong? “What do you plan to do to us?”

“That remains to be seen. And the next time you talk to me, bastard boy, I’ll stab her.” Her eyes were shining so brightly; there was no doubt in Jon’s mind that she would do it too.

Dany didn’t look at him as he was pulled away and he didn’t look at her. She could handle herself, he thought. There was no other choice. They would have to trust each other, once again.

But they only walked down a level or so before he was shoved into a cell-and not a black cell either. A regular cell, for a regular criminal-not a traitor to the crown. The lock was easy to pick, the cell was barely being held upright-but the guards didn’t hesitate to shut him inside.

And then he heard the first scream from upstairs.


Dany’s arm was on fire. Her bindings prevented her from reaching the spot on her shoulder where the knife had gone in and it pulsed hotly, painfully. She half fell, half dropped to the ground-but her guard dragged her to her feet, pulling on her wound so hard she screamed again. With a grim sense of satisfaction she saw that Jaime looked shocked-he hadn’t known this was going to happen either. Distract her. They need time.

“Do you really expect me to keep my word?” Cersei wiped the bloody knife on her dress and Dany hoped that the wound wasn’t as bad as it felt. “After what you did to yours?”

She took Jaime’s lie and let it run wild. “We had to convince you-”

“So where did you get that…thing in the Dragonpit?”

“A petty enchantment. I’m surprised you didn’t think of it first.” She raised her chin defiantly; this queen, clinging to her last vestiges of power, didn’t frighten her. But the things that she could do to Jon did. She was used to pain. He didn’t need any more scars. “What do you want?”

“I can’t just kill you-there are too many crimes against you for that. Collusion, conspiracy, betrayal, rebellion, treason…the very fact that you are still alive instead of murdered as an infant is a crime against my family. That would be easy-but things have never been easy for you have they? They wouldn’t be, to get as far as you did in a world like this. Your death shouldn’t be easy either. And we’ll see if anyone comes to rescue you. We’ll see if this is a ruse. Jaime, I want you to stab her.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “Did you already forget that you just did? If she bleeds out too soon, that defeats the point of your revenge, doesn’t it?”

Cersei sighed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t make her bleed out. I need her alive.” She raised an eyebrow. “Or are you not able to? Did you already pledge your sword to her cause-”

Another slice, this time in her upper thigh. It hurt, but the pain wasn’t debilitating; she bit her lip so hard tears sprang to her eyes but she didn’t cry out. She was determined not to give Cersei the satisfaction.

Cersei turned away, crossing to the window, looking bored. “Jaime, make her scream. I want our other guest to hear her.”


Jon forced himself to remain still, even as each scream from above tore through him like physical pain. He did whatever he had to do-counted to ten and then back down again, focused on a single piece of straw that had landed on his boots, compressed the blind rage in his chest to a single point of fire-to not act out. He had to pretend that she was nothing to him; he knew that whatever he did he could not give the guards the satisfaction of knowing that each scream rattled him more than the one before it.

Gods, he wished they had taken him instead. And then again, that was precisely why they hadn’t. It would have been too easy.

Thrumming panic vibrated through his chest. Why were they still here? Did anyone know where they were? Was this a trap? And all the while they were hurting her, when they should have been hurting him…

He heard Tyrion’s voice in his head again. Heroics and dramatics. That’s what she wants. That’s what you cannot give her, under any circumstances. She knows that you’re both heroes. Don’t be heroes. It’ll only make things worse.

The blood pounded through his ears and he felt sick. He would kill them, he would kill them all, it didn’t matter that he was weaponless-he would rip them apart with his bare hands if he had to.

One of the guards rattled the bars of his cell. “Dragons are soft under their scales, aren’t they? That’s what all the tales used to say. But I suppose you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe we’ll let you out if you tell us,” another added, and they both laughed. They drifted back to where they were keeping watch, still talking rather loudly about what they would do to the Dragon Queen if they had the chance. He suspected they were doing it to rile him, as every suggestion they made was even more crude than the one before it.

Jon’s fingernails dug into his hand so hard he felt them draw blood.

And then he heard them all go quiet.

The ground was painted with their blood, their organs ripped out through their throats and stomachs, stabbed through the heart or the chest, appendages torn off. And in the middle of the melee stood Arya, her hand on her sword and blood that wasn’t hers soaking the tips of her hair. She didn’t say anything as she opened the door and helped him over the dead bodies.

“You came.”

She snorted mirthlessly. “Did you really think I’d ever leave? There was some complication in the tunnels…” She kept talking but he ignored her. He was taking swords from the dead soldiers, strapping knives into his boots.

When he walked into the throne room, he would walk into a bloodbath.


How long had it been now? A couple of hours, at least?

The dragons were crying out for her, their calls getting increasingly more frantic. She tried to call them, though her head felt thick and sluggish. No. You can’t come now. Mother is all right. She’ll be all right.

She’d thought torture had been about getting information, demanding answers, but Cersei hadn’t asked her a thing. She and Jaime talked over her head, their voices a low droning murmur; she couldn’t make out what they were saying over the rushing in her ears.

Every part of her body felt stiff and heavy, her thoughts disconnected and drifting. There was Jon, something about Jon, what was it…? It didn’t matter now because she screamed. She’d shown her weakness. And yet, she’d been strong too. They hadn’t harmed Jon. She knew it, somehow. He was safe. She’d saved him.

Cersei and Jaime were arguing about something now. She wondered if she would drift away before they realized it. What had Jon said, that dying was easy?

She wondered if she would die. She’d always thought that she might, as soon as she signed up. She had no idea how one got rid of wildfire, or brought it North-Tyrion had the idea to throw it at the White Walkers-but it couldn’t possibly be easy. She could only hope she’d bought them enough time.

Cersei was saying something again, and then something huge lumbered into her field of vision. It was more of a hill than a man, with thick stony features and eyes that looked barely alive. She briefly recognized him from the Dragonpit-Cersei’s closest Queensguard.

He grabbed her by her neck, lifting her off the ground as easily as if she was a doll. She registered the pain, briefly, and knew that he was squeezing. She knew she was fading away, but she found that she didn’t mind so much. She felt like she was floating on a cloud, floating far away where they couldn’t hurt her and Jon would be safe…

There was a blur of movement in her peripheral vision, someone knocked her to the ground and she fell on her injured arm (though what part of her wasn’t injured, by now?) so hard that she cried out. Then she was being held in strong arms and she thought that she smelled Jon’s familiar scent of pine trees and open campfires and long nights talking about her dreams and wishes for the future safe in his arms…

And then even that fell away.


When he got back to the boat he threw up. He stood crouched over the side, again and again, heaving until there was nothing left in his stomach, even after the maester said she would be all right. She was badly beaten, but all right. And Cersei was dead. Jaime had strangled her.

If it was victory, why didn’t it feel like it?

He kept seeing her, when he’d burst through the door, covered in blood, her dress in tatters, hair and and skin matted, slowly being strangled. He wasn’t sure she even recognized him when he picked her up gently.

There was blood on his shirt and he pulled it off and tossed it into the water even though it was freezing cold. She’d been tortured and he’d done nothing. Nothing. He’d been helpless. He never wanted to feel that way again.

“I’m sorry.” Tyrion stopped beside him, not seeming to see that he was only wearing a thin cloak. “There were complications-”

“I don’t care.”

A long silence. “I know.”

“I thought you left us there to die.”

“I would have too, if I were in your position.”

“And I didn’t do anything. I heard her screaming, I knew she was in pain, men were joking about defiling her…and I did nothing. Because you told me to. And I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

“Neither will I. Neither will Jaime, if it’s any consolation. Sometimes in war, we all have to play our parts. We all make tough decisions that we never forget.”

“You should have sent me instead.”

“You can’t blindly protect her, Jon. She won’t let you. She wants to protect you just as much as you want to protect her.” He looked out towards the frozen sea. “I almost lost both of you. I won’t forget that.”

“What was I supposed to do?”

“You did what you had to do, even though it was the hardest thing you could have done. That doesn’t make it right, or wrong. You’ll never get over it, that feeling of helplessness. You’ll have nightmares about it. This is why I wish the two of you had fallen in love at any other time. In war, everything is uncertain. Things could change in an instant. One rogue arrow-”

“I let her down.”

“Sometimes you let down the people you love. Sometimes you have to. That doesn’t mean you love them any less. Because you know that it’s what she would have wanted you to do.” He cleared his throat, almost tentatively. “Now go in there. She wants to see you.”


She looked so small, so young, nestled among a cloud of pillows. It took a moment for her eyes to focus on him, a moment for her mouth to break into the smile he so loved. She wore a loose white dress and he could see everything-the stab wounds, the cuts. “You’re here.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He hugged her and she winced; he moved quickly, as if he’d been shocked, carving out a place for her to curl into his side. He wanted to hold her, to reassure himself that she was still here. “She tortured you.”

She glared at him and there was still the fire in her eyes. “She would have taken you instead.”

“I can hold out-”

“And you think I can’t?”

“No, of course I know you can, but you almost died!”

“You already died. If you can come back, why can’t I?”

“Don’t say that. Please.” He didn’t want to even have to consider losing her. “If I lost you, it would destroy me.”

“It would destroy me too, if I lost you. But you went beyond the Wall to fight the army of the dead-”

“I’m sorry-”

“And for days I had to sit in Dragonstone and wonder what you were doing and where you were and whether or not you were still alive. Sometimes we have to be helpless when the ones we love are in pain. Besides, the wildfire is ours and Cersei is dead.”

And there were still wars to come…

He wished that they could stay here forever, safe and together. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered. Her voice was heavy with sleep; he stood to let her get some rest and she pulled him back almost frantically. “No, don’t go.”

So he stayed, knowing that he couldn’t protect her and at any moment he could lose her, but loving her anyway.

Yeah them being (over)protective of each other is my aesthetic. 

11 November

National Independence Day is a national day in Poland celebrated on 11 November to commemorate the anniversary of the restoration of Poland’s sovereignty as the Second Polish Republic in 1918, after 123 years of partition by the Russian Empire, the Kingdom of Prussia and the Habsburg Empire.


West Kraków costume - one of the most well-known of the Polish regional costumes, which grew to the rank of a national costume.

The woman’s costume includes a white blouse, a vest that is embroidered and beaded on front and back, a floral full skirt, an apron, a red coral bead necklace, and lace-up boots. Unmarried women and girls may wear a flower wreath with ribbons while married women wear a white kerchief on their head. The men wear a blue waistcoat with embroidery and tassels, striped trousers, a krakuska cap ornamented with ribbons and peacock feathers and metal rings attached to the belt.


I’m really far away from acknowledge a “country” as value in and of itself and I would never kill or be killed for some symbols like flag or emblem but in the same time I value culture and nature of place where I have been born. I’m happy I live in a save, free place.


Special thanks to @shy-megane-otaka - this was her idea.


Yui Komori and Reiji Sakamaki belong to Rejet.