#coronet books

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Judy Feiffer - A Hot Property - Coronet - 1974

#witches #properties #occult #vintage #a hot property #coronet books #hot #property #judy feiffer #1974

[retrogirlsbooks]

Touch Not The Cat by Mary Stewart

ISBN 0-340-21984-X

#1970s #1976 #coronet books

[pop-goes-the-weasel]

Holmes taking the most direct route to retrieve the beryls

(Link along with the image)

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #the beryl coronet #sidney paget #book illustration

[caramelmochacrow]

happy birthday masuki!!!! <3 layer made the cake for her haha!

#crow's scribbles #bandori #bang dream #rei wakana #masuki satou #masurei #yeah im tagging that sure #i rushed this a bit but i think it turned out well! #i could not think of a ras highlight that was not chu2's funny headphones so i went w hearts bc i was in a valentine mood again lol #i looooooooooove masuki btw. did u know? #i rlly like how i did the cake too!!! did the same technique i did w the rimi coronet! #those bunnies dont look like bunnies but i did my best! #i have a few stuff i wanna change w this but it's small stuff that im too eh to fix so it's p ok in my book! #hope you like it !!!

[ineffabletwaddle13]

Holmes pours tea for Watson, Watson pours tea for Holmes

I couldn’t find any reference to Holmes pouring tea for Watson in the ACD books, only pouring tea for himself: Holmes “helped himself to a cup of tea.” in The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet. But I like to think he would sometimes pour tea for Watson like 1954 Holmes does when Watson needs cheering up.

Watson pours tea for Holmes in The Sign of the Four: “There is no great mystery in this matter,” he [Holmes] said, taking the cup of tea which I [Watson] had poured out for him. “The facts appear to admit of only one explanation.”

#1954 Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes #ronald howard holmes #doctor watson #holmes and watson #221b baker street #the red headed league #the case of the split ticket #1954 sherlock holmes/ACD books #the sign of the four #the adventure of the beryl coronet

[ogsherlockholmes]

5th October

George Burnwell may have had an accomplice to complete his robbery in The Beryl Coronet, but because of who the accomplice was and the general... weirdness of it all, I’m naming him the primary villain. 

Sherlock describes Burnwell best.

“He is one of the most dangerous men in England—a ruined gambler, an absolutely desperate villain, a man without heart or conscience. Your niece knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his vows to her, as he had done to a hundred before her, she flattered herself that she alone had touched his heart. The devil knows best what he said, but at least she became his tool and was in the habit of seeing him nearly every evening.”

The context of this quote is from towards the end of the story, when Sherlock is explaining to his client that Burnwell ran off with his niece after stealing a coronet. Burnwell also allowed the blame to be passed onto the client’s son, making him out to be even shittier than before. 

I think it’s important to note how Sherlock took pity on the niece, Mary, and didn’t think of her to blame. He felt sorry for her because Burnwell had brainwashed her, almost like he had groomed her. (This is common with a lot of antagonists in the Holmes canon: they groomed their younger female accomplices into helping them). Though, in this case, Sherlock also says, “It is equally certain, too, that whatever her sins are, they will soon receive a more than sufficient punishment.” So maybe he wasn’t so sympathetic. 

As well as being a general dickhead, Burnwell does a pretty crap job of the burglary, in that it doesn’t work. 

He broke the coronet, then ran off. An attempt was made, but it wasn’t very successful. 

But why did he even bother trying to steal the coronet? Burnwell, as mentioned, was a gambler, and in serious debt. He was actually blamed for influencing the client’s son into gambling, as well- the man can’t seem to control himself. Mary told George about the coronet, so he wanted to steal it to pay for his debts. He didn’t really think it through, though, since someone was going to notice that the coronet was missing but someone just happened to be selling it. 

It partially works out in the end:

“[Sherlock]I went and saw him. At first, of course, he denied everything. But when I gave him every particular that had occurred, he tried to bluster and took down a life-preserver from the wall. I knew my man, however, and I clapped a pistol to his head before he could strike. Then he became a little more reasonable. I told him that we would give him a price for the stones he held—£1000 apiece. That brought out the first signs of grief that he had shown. ‘Why, dash it all!’ said he, ‘I’ve let them go at six hundred for the three!’ I soon managed to get the address of the receiver who had them, on promising him that there would be no prosecution. Off I set to him, and after much chaffering I got our stones at 1000 pounds apiece.”

Unfortunately, we don’t find out where Burnwell and Mary are at the end, but when this happens in the canon, the antagonists usually ends up finding themself dead.

#another mary as well #so many marys #george burnwell #the beryl coronet #acd books #ACD #acd canon #sherlockholmes

[joebloggshere]

Minor Disturbances at Grand Life Apartments by Hema Sukumar

What a lovely, gentle read. This is a different India than one I am used to reading about in novels. Neither a romanticised version nor a warts and all tale.

Set in modern-day Chennai, it follows three tenants and their landlord and how they come to be friends. And the food! Oh I just wanted to taste everything they were cooking and eating!

I really enjoyed this and didn’t want to leave Reva, Kamala, Jason and Mani and hope they may be back for another instalment.

Recommended

Courtesy of NetGalley and Coronet.

#chennai #mumbai #india #hema sukumar #minor disturbances at grand life apartments #books #review #netgalley #coronet #food

[roseantiques-24]

#mine #retro #vintage #vintage books #charlotte Bingham #coronet among the weeds

[hollerpresents]

Jonathan Slinger talks Sarah.

#scott mccclanahan #the sarah book #the coronet theatre #jonathan slinger #theatre

[tanoraqui]

Theory: Elrond effectively wears headlamps like a Dad(TM)

Proof:

Elrond, at least on semi-formal occasions, wears “a star upon his forehead” (RotK book 6, ch.9)—that is, presumably, a pale glowing gem on some sort of coronet. This comes across as very classically Elvish (light, jewelry, star imagery), and a nigh-explicit reference to his father Eärendil. However…

Elrond’s children don’t see as well as Elves, as cited here. If his children don’t, then Elrond, even less Elvish by blood, certainly doesn’t. Now, I will admit that I forget if “Elves can see in the dark” is canon or very popular, D&D-enabled fanon, but it certainly makes sense considering that Elves flourished for centuries or millennia under just starlight, before daylight even existed…and it’s equally reasonable to assume that half-elven night vision is as relatively “weak” as their cited distance vision.

Elrond is the proud father of three, and exhibits traditional Dadly behaviors such as being a little bit of a nerd (loremaster) but also one of the most reliable guys you know, adopting any child left in his presence for a sufficient amount of time (Aragorn), and telling his daughter’s aspiring bf that he won’t be good enough for her until he has a steady job (also Aragorn).

My dad irl, who I promise is a pretty typical Dad, was positively delighted when he discovered casual-use head-mounted flashlights about a decade ago, and has self-satisfiedly worn them on every camping trip and nighttime dog walk ever since.

CONCLUSION: Elrond regularly wears glowing, star-evocative gems on his brow, especially while traveling or at fancy evening parties, and he looks great and it make people respectfully murmur Eärendilion (whether he likes it or not)… But really, it’s not a fashion statement or implicit political position or whatever; it’s because if he doesn’t have some sort of flashlight, he will trip on torchlit steps or walk into low-hanging tree branches in the dark. And it’s so much easier if it’s hands-free! (Especially when he’s spelunking for lost texts!)

His kids all go through a phase of thinking he’s mortifyingly dorky about this, then begrudgingly come to accept that it is really convenient to have a hands-free light for dark nights, caves, etc, and start wearing one themselves.

#lotr #lord of the rings #the silmarillion #elrond #elrond peredhel #elrond half elven #peredhil #theories #headcanon accepted

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Peter Tonkin - The Journal Of Edwin Underhill - Coronet Books - 1983

#witches #vampires #occult #vintage #the journal of edwin underhill #journal #underhill #coronet books #peter tonkin #1983 #coffins

[autumnshighlady]

Teacher's Pet

Nesta Archeron x female!reader

first part in The Professor Series

summary: Dr. Archeron is the strictest professor you've ever had. No matter how hard you try, you can't get her to praise your work. That is, until she calls you into her office

warnings: smut, power dynamic, mean Nesta Archeron, 18+ only

word count: 3.7k

request: my legs shake just thinking about Professor Nesta x reader. Nesta being a serious, rigid and sadistic teacher. And the student being the typical exemplary student

a/n: this is part one of my professor series! each fic will be on the shorter side so I can get as many characters done as possible. Enjoy!

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You sat in the centre seat at the front row of class, furiously scribbling down notes in your book. Your hand ached with the effort to keep up with the professor’s sharp voice, but you fought through it. The echoing of pens on paper filled the lecture hall, a dull background noise amidst the lecture on classical literature. It was the only class where every single student paid attention and behaved, for fear of suffering the wrath of the icy professor, Dr. Nesta Archeron.

The female was the most feared teacher in Velaris, known for her sharp tongue, tough grading, and zero tolerance policy for bullshit. She commanded the classroom like a general over an army, with complete and utter authority. She was also the hardest one to get praise from, much to your disappointment. You were a straight-A student, always at the top of your class. Your teachers had always loved you, often commenting on your intelligence and eagerness to learn. 

All except Dr. Archeron.

No matter how hard you tried, you were unable to get a single positive comment from her. The most you’d gotten was a nod of her head, and even that earned you hushed congratulations from your classmates around you. Therefore, you had made it your mission to get one compliment from her before you graduated. And you had three months left, and so far nothing.

It was particularly difficult to concentrate today, however. The professor had her hair done up in its usual coronet, a few loose strands framing her sharp face. She was wearing a black turtleneck that hugged her curves, forcing you to keep your eyes on her face. It was paired with a dark brown pencil skirt and sheer black tight underneath, topped off with knee high black boots. In other words, she looked stunning. Well, she looked that way every day, but for some reason today your brain decided to fixate on it even more.

God, those boots made you want to just drop to your knees in front of her–

“Miss (Y/N).” A familiar sharp voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look up. Dr. Archeron was staring down at you, an unimpressed scowl written across her features.

“Yes, ma’am?” You asked, voice quiet. Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and you just wanted to crawl under the desk beneath her grey gaze.

“Did you even hear my question, or were you too busy daydreaming?” She demanded, arms crossed.

“No ma’am.” You answered sheepishly, wringing your hands together. “If you could possibly repeat–”

She cut you off, voice as cold as ancient stone. “No. This is the third time I’ve caught you distracted in this class today. Since I’m clearly distracting you from daydreaming, you have no reason to be here.”

Your heart dropped in your stomach. Never before had a teacher spoken to you this harshly. It made tears well up in your eyes. “Professor–” You began to protest, but were interrupted once again.

“Leave, now. See me in my office at 5pm.” She did not spare you a single glance as she turned away to resume the lecture.

Fighting back the tears, you gathered your stuff as hastily as possible. Nearly tripping over your bag, you scurried out of the classroom, letting the door slam aggressively behind you. It was childish, and you regretted it immediately once you realised you’d have to face the professor again later.

5pm was a strange time to meet in her office, you thought to yourself. Normally most professors have left campus by then, but you didn’t think much of it. Tossing your stuff on a nearby bench, you sat down and put your head in your hands. You couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, and they began to fall down your face. You spent the entire semester trying to get Dr. Archeron to like you, and you had just blown it. All because your stupid brain got distracted by how good she looked. You were no better than a man.

“Hey, doll.” The cheerful voice of the archival studies professor, Dr. Helion, sounded a few feet away.

You quickly wiped your tears, trying hard as possible to hide the evidence of your crying before lifting your head to meet his bright gaze. “Hi, Dr. Helion.” You said, hoping he was on his way to a meeting or something and would pass by.

The professor paused, cocking his head. “What’s wrong, sugar?”

His kind voice broke your composure, and you began crying again. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Helion was not phased, however. He took a seat next to you, placing a large hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok.” He murmured, rubbing your back. “Let it out.”

After a few minutes of sobbing underneath the professor’s touch, you finally caught your breath. You felt a little better having cried – Dr. Helion was the go-to professor for informal life advice. He was popular amongst the students not just for his stunningly good looks, but his wisdom. You knew you weren’t the first student to cry on his shoulder, and wouldn’t be the last.

“So,” He said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“My literature class,” You mumbled, wiping your hair from your face. “I got kicked out.”

Dr. Helion frowned. “Kicked out? What’d you do, kill someone in the middle of class? You’re my best student!

You laughed. “I think I’d feel better if I had killed someone and gotten kicked out. She just… Dr. Archeron got so mad because I missed her question. I don’t think I deserved to be kicked out for that. I have to go see her in her office later today, I’m worried she’s going to fail me or something.”

Dr. Helion sighed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “That’s fair. Dr. Archeron is tough, that’s for sure. See what she has to say when you meet with her, then give her your side of the story. She’s strict, but reasonable. Don’t let it get to you. You’re a brilliant student.”

You smiled at him, the anxiety in your stomach easing up at his comfort. “Thank you, professor.”

“Anytime.” He stood up and began to walk away, but turned to face you one last time. “Just between you and me, she likes you. That’s why she was so tough on you. She wants you to succeed.” Helion flashed you a wink before departing down the corridor, leaving you more confused than ever.

Dr. Archeron liked you? Enough to mention it to Dr. Helion? It seemed like she hated you just as much as any other student. It only made your nervousness come back as you checked the time, groaning when you realised you had six hours to kill before your meeting with Dr. Archeron. Literature was your only class for the day, and you lived all the way on the other side of the city. It wasn’t worth the long trek there and back, so you decided to find something to eat and review next week’s readings while you waited.

****************

Finally, 4:55pm came. You checked your outfit one last time in the bathroom mirror. You donned a simple pair of leggings with a low-cut red tank top that made your boobs look good. A soft grey cardigan was draped over your shoulders, your hair left down and framing your face. You normally tried to look a bit less casual, but today was not your day it seemed. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you took the steps down the hallway to Dr. Archeron’s office door.

4:58pm.

You paced back and forth outside her door, overthinking. You weren’t sure if you should wait two minutes in case she was busy, or if you should knock early. At this point, you didn’t want to do anything to risk her wrath again, so you continued to pace until you heard a stern, “Come in, (Y/N).”

Sighing, you pushed open the door and stepped inside Dr. Archeron’s office. It was a beautiful space – rich, wooden shelves with hundreds of old books lining them, a large green sofa with plush white pillows at either end, and a beige rug in front of the desk that adorned the centre of the room. The professor didn’t look up as you closed the door behind you. “Were you trying to make a hole in the floor? I could hear you pacing from in here.”

“Apologies, professor.” You muttered, taking a seat in the armchair across the desk.

“Speak up.” She demanded, still not sparing you a glance as she continued writing something on a piece of paper.

“I…” Your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. You were at a loss – normally you excelled in conversation with professors, the skill coming naturally to you. But your throat was dry, and no words came out.

Finally, Dr. Archeron looked up at you. Her grey eyes met yours, utterly unflinching. “You’re nervous.” She stated rather than asked.

You paused the wringing of your hands. “No–”

“Let’s not lie to each other, shall we?” The professor said, putting down her pen and resting her elbows on the desk. “I’ll try again. You’re nervous.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You make me nervous.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt your face getting red again. To your surprise, the corner of Dr. Archeron’s lip twitched.

“Because I’m a strict, heartless professor?” She said casually. “I know my reputation. I’m proud of it. It gets students to obey me. I’ve heard many great things about you, miss (Y/N). You’re a star student. Perhaps I make you nervous because I don’t sing praises in your ear for everything you do?”

You flinched at her harshness. It felt like an insult, like she was mocking you for being praised so much. Defeated, you admitted a quiet “Yes.”

You looked down at your hands as the sound of a chair scraping on the floor echoed throughout the room. High heels clacked on the wood as the professor walked around to the front of her desk. She was standing less than two feet away from you. “Look at me.” She said sternly. You obliged, lifting your chin up to meet her gaze. She stared down at you with a level of softness you hadn’t seen before. Her brows weren’t furrowed in disappointment, but relaxed in their natural arched position.

“Listen to me closely,” She said. “You do not need praise from me. You know why? Because you’re a good student and you know it. You don’t need it validated by me. Have confidence in your own intelligence and capabilities. A female as smart as you shouldn’t be reduced to tears just from me sending her out of class for zoning out.”

You sucked in a breath at her words. They were harsh, yes, but kind in their own way. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at her compliment, which was redundant to her point but you let it slide. “Thanks.” You said quietly, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“Which brings me back to why you’re here in the first place.” Dr. Archeron continued, crossing her arms. “You zoned out three times today. You’ve been doing that lately and I want to know why. Is my content boring or do I just make you that nervous?”

“Your content isn’t boring, ma’am.” You said quickly.

She smirked, which unsettled you. “So it’s the second one then?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it. You had no idea what to say – either you denied it, and then had to come up with a bullshit reason why you were zoning out; or you admit the humiliating reason why your attention was drifting off to fantasyland where you were bent over Dr. Archeron’s desk and letting her have her way with you. “No–” You began.

“I thought you were going to be a good girl and be honest with me.” 

Your thoughts came to a screeching halt as her words hit you. Good girl, the phrase that was your unfortunate weak point. It seemed your professor knew it too, the way her smirk deepened at your reaction. “That’s what I thought.” She said, pride seeping into her voice.

You wanted to drop dead right then and there. There was no way you were getting out of this – she KNEW about your crush on her. You could tell she had figured it out a while ago, and was cornering you now to confirm it. You began spewing apologies faster than your brain could comprehend. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean–”

“I wouldn’t want your…. nervousness, let’s call it,” Dr. Archeron hummed, emphasising the word ‘nervousness’ in a mocking way. “To get in the way of your learning. Looks like it’s my responsibility to get you to relax around me.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

She placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “Stand up.” She ordered. You obliged, pushing the chair back and letting the cardigan fall off your arms as you stood up. The room suddenly felt much smaller as Dr. Archeron took a step towards you. Her face was inches from yours, and you could smell her sweet scent around you.

“Dr. Archeron…” You whispered, not sure what you were asking.

“Nesta.” She corrected, voice gentle. “In here, you can call me Nesta.”

“Nesta.” You said, experimenting with the sound of her name on your tongue. You had never even dreamed of calling her by her first name. In all your wildest fantasies, you had only addressed her as ‘ma’am’ or ‘professor’. Never this intimate.

She took another step closer, her lips now centimetres from yours. “If you do not want this, you may leave at any time and we will never speak of it again.” She said calmly. “I will not hold you to anything.”

“Please,” Was all your dry mouth was able to muster. Thankfully, Nesta understood what you needed, and pressed her lips to yours. 

They were the softest lips you had ever kissed, tasting like spiced red wine against your tongue as you melted into her mouth. Nesta grabbed your hands and placed them on her waist, allowing you to touch her. “Relax.” She muttered against your lips. You squeezed her hip gently, and she groaned into your mouth, pleased. 

Nesta reached up and cupped your jaw in her slender hands, deepening the kiss further. Gods, you had never been kissed like this before. The world spun around you as you eagerly opened your mouth up to her, letting her tongue explore wherever it wished. You whined when her lips eventually left yours, gasping for breath.

“Don’t pout.” She scolded, reaching down and grabbing the bottom of your tank top. “Lift up your arms.”

You did so, allowing her to pull the tank top over your head and discard it somewhere on the floor. You had opted to go braless today, leaving your breasts exposed to the warm air of the office. Wetness pooled between your legs as Nesta shamelessly drank in your topless figure, her grey eyes darkening.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me and let me take care of you.” She said huskily. “I want you to relax around me. It’s your reward for being my top student.”

You nodded, reaching to grab her waist again. You needed her closer. Nesta obliged, but walked you back until your legs hit the large green sofa, forcing you to sit down. Nesta followed suit, landing beside you and wasting no time in bringing her hands up to your breasts to squeeze as her lips attached themselves to your neck. You whimpered, arching up into her touch. Her hands were strong, kneading at the flesh of your breasts as she sucked marks on your neck that sent a tingle up your spine and heat between your legs.

“That’s it, pet.” She purred. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”

You bit your lip, worried about any lingering students or staff hearing the noises you so desperately wanted to make. Nesta sensed your hesitation and brought her mouth down to your nipple, giving it a harsh suck and causing you to cry out. “That’s more like it.” She said, satisfied. You gripped her shoulders as she worked her mouth on your breast, biting and sucking and kissing before she moved to the other one.

Without thinking, you bucked your hips in the air, yearning for some relief. Nesta released your right breast with a lewd popping noise. “Desperate already, are we?” She teased, trailing a finger down your stomach to the top of your leggings. “Normally I’d have you on your knees begging for it, since you didn’t listen to me several times today. But just this once, I’ll let it slide. You’ll learn my rules soon enough.”

You lifted your hips, granting her access to pull your leggings and panties off in one go. You were instantly naked on her couch, the slick between your legs visible. Nesta unabashedly stared down at your newly exposed pussy, licking her lips like a cat. “My, my, you’re soaked, pet. Is that all for me?” She cooed, running a finger lightly over your slit.

“Yes,” You gasped at her touch. “All for you.”

Seemingly pleased with your eager answer, Nesta kissed your lips once again, muffling your moans as she gathered your wetness on her fingers and rubbed your clit. Your body sang in response, her hand applying just enough pressure to take the edge off but not enough to push you towards the edge. You had a death grip on the couch cushion, toes curling as your fantasies unfolded before you. 

After rubbing your clit for a few minutes, Nesta harshly pushed you into the couch so you were laying down, head propped up on one and while your lower body was just at the edge. She kissed her way down your chest, then your stomach, then her lips hovered above your core. “Beg.” She demanded sternly.

“What?” You breathed heavily. “But you said–”

“I changed my mind. You make such pretty sounds. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”

“Please…” You whimpered, closing your eyes.

“Do better. And look at me while you beg.”

You opened your eyes and groaned at the sight of Nesta’s face less than an inch away from where you wanted it most. “Please, Nesta.” You begged. “Please touch me. Please eat my pussy, I’m begging. I need you, please.”

“Much better.” Nesta said before lowering her head and licking up your slit. You let out a deep moan, back arching into her touch. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around her body, pulling her closer and causing her to chuckle against you, which sent vibrations down your legs. Her golden brown hair was glowing in the light from all the different candles in the room, making her look like a goddess kneeling before you, a mere mortal in comparison. Nesta’s tongue was as skilled as it was sharp, flicking against your clit in a way that made your legs involuntarily twitch.

The room was filled with lewd slurping sounds and moans. In the back of your mind, you wondered if anyone could hear you. Surely, most staff were gone by now, having headed home for the weekend. Any remaining students would be in the other building studying for the last few hours. But you couldn’t deny that the possibility of someone hearing the noise from Nesta’s office excited you. You were a good student, never in a million years did you think that you’d be naked in a teacher’s office with your legs spread for them.

Two of Nesta’s fingers slipped inside of you, curling upwards and instantly finding that spot that made you see stars. Your hand reached down and grabbed her hair, fingers messing tangling in her perfect braid. You whimpered – her tongue and fingers felt so good, you weren’t sure how long you could hold off your climax. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, with Nesta between your legs and your head thrown back in pleasure on her couch. But that familiar tension began to build up in your stomach, and your breaths began shortening.

“That’s it, pet.” Nesta muttered against your clit, her hot breath on the bundle of nerves intensifying the pleasure. “Be a good girl for me and cum. Let yourself go.”

Minutes later, you felt your legs twitch as the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, sending your release barrelling through your body. You moaned out Nesta’s name, tightening your grip on her hair and bucking your hips into her face. The world spun around you, falling away as you got lost in your pleasure. Your clit began oversensitive beneath her mouth as she came down from your high, sending waves of fuzziness through your legs.

You panted heavily as Nesta finally pulled her lips and fingers from your cunt, opening your eyes and watching in awe as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked the remaining juices off. “You taste as sweet as you look.” She purred, planting a kiss on your lips before striding over to where your clothes had been discarded. All you could do was lay there, gathering your bearings and wondering if it was all just a dream.

With a tenderness you didn’t know she possessed, Nesta helped you get dressed. She gently pulled the leggings on, and eased your arm through the armholes of the tank top while you pulled it down. Once she finished draping your cardigan over your shoulders, she stopped back, her face smug. “I expect now you’ll be less nervous around me, won’t you?” She said coolly. 

You couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Yes, I think so.”

Nesta folded her arms. “Good, but don’t think this gives you a free pass for anything. I still expect the best from you, whether I praise you for it or not. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled wickedly, returning to her seat at her desk and picking up a pencil, continuing her work. Save for the now messy coronet hair, she looked exactly as she had when you first walked in. “Good. Now get out of my office.”

#nesta #nesta archeron #nesta archeron x reader #pro nesta archeron #nesta archeron fic #nesta archeron smut #bi nesta archeron #acotar #professor!nesta #amara's professor series

[pop-goes-the-weasel]

Sidney Paget: And thus continues the saga of Holmes tending to his clients

(Link along with image)

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #the beryl coronet #sidney paget #book illustration

[shadowdaddies]

The Protector

for @nestaarcheronweek day four: “Lover.” While I may officially ship Nessian, I love Gwyn and Nesta’s relationship in the books - how protective Nesta is of Gwyn, how understanding Gwyn is of Nesta - so I wanted to write something for the two of them as mates.🩶

Silver slippers tapped lightly against the wooden floors as Nesta wove through the endless shelves of the House of Wind’s library. 

Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, the Valkyrie bit back her smile at the sound of her mate’s soft singing that echoed through rows of literature, a siren’s song beckoning her nearer.

Heart leaping in her chest at the scent of lilies and fresh spring water, Nesta poked her head around the shelf to see Gwyn struggling under a pile of books. Her eyes were tired, the usually striking teal dulled with exhaustion as her arms strained with the load.

A protective instinct immediately took over Nesta’s senses as she rushed forward to take the load from Gwyn’s hands. The priestess offered a weak smile, shoulders slumped as she exhaled a quiet thank you.

Nesta could feel the wariness, the frustration her mate was feeling through the bond. Hands clenched the stack of books, knuckles white before taking a calming exhale and finding a pedestal to leave the books on. 

Gwyn’s eyes widened at the tomes’ misplacement, ready to argue as she moved towards them, but Nesta’s hand caught her arm. Silver eyes locked with teal, seeking each other for words unspoken before Nesta pulled Gwyn into a hug.

Delicate arms wound around her waist, Nesta’s fingers threading through Gwyn’s soft red hair, eyes squeezed shut as she focused on the feeling of her mate in her arms. 

“You need a break, Gwyn,” Nesta murmured, turning her face to press a soft kiss against a freckled cheek. 

Gwyn sniffled, chest puffing out as though the frustration was about to physically break from her. “But Merrill told me-“

“I’ve spoken to Merrill,” Nesta interrupted, prompting Gwyn to pull away slightly, brow arched in silent question. A wicked gleam shone in Nesta’s eyes, lips curving into a wolfish grin. 

“We have come to an agreement that you will be given more hours off each week, starting now. You are mine for the evening,” she purred, flashing a mischievous smile that melted Gwyn’s stiff muscles, body relaxing for the first time in too long.

“We have the day to ourselves?” Gwyn asked, sending a spark of pleasure through Nesta as her eyes turned bright and hopeful once more. 

Nodding, Nesta ran her hands down Gwyn’s sides, thumbs rubbing her hips gently as she watched in admiration. “I thought that for once, you could take a break from caring for others, and let me care for you. I have an evening planned for us, if you are up for it.”

Relief washed over Nesta as her mate smiled, practically bouncing on her heels. Nesta felt the tug on her own hair, woven through her coronet braid, as she was pulled in for a slow, passionate kiss. “What did you have in mind?” Gwyn breathed, cheeks flushed when she pulled away.

“I thought...” Nesta purred, winding an arm around Gwyn’s waist to lead her back through the rows of books towards the door, “that we could take the pegasus, visit that pool with the spring you like. I packed a picnic for dinner, as well.”

Gwyn’s eyes welled with tears, her body curling closer into Nesta’s as her arms wound around her mate’s waist. “You did all of this for me?”

Nesta laughed softly, rolling her eyes at the absurdity of the question. She stopped Gwyn in the hallway for a moment, eyes alight with passion as she swiped a stray tear from the priestess’s cheek. 

“You have made me not only happier than I have ever been, but the best version of myself. You deserve all of this, and so much more, Gwyn. You have been there for me in my darkest times. Let me be here for you.”

Gwyn’s face broke out into a blinding smile, joy emanating from both Valkyries when she whispered a soft, “I love you,” pressing a chaste kiss to Nesta’s lips before pulling her out towards where the pegasus was kept.

“I love you too. Always,” Nesta smiled back, strapping the picnic basket to the back of the saddle. “Let’s go.”

#nestaweek2024 #acotar #acotar fanfiction #nesta x gwyn #gwyn x nesta #acosf #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #gwyn berdara #gwyn x nesta fanfiction #nesta x gwyn fanfiction #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #gwyneth berdara #nesta acosf #a court of silver flames #acotar nesta #nesta x gwyn fluff #nesta archeron fluff #nesta archeron angst #gwynsta

[kingoftheu]

Arms I made up for Jane Roland (and later Emily’s) Ducal House. Roland’s titles are never mentioned in the books, but I have her created Duchess of Carmarthen. Carmarthen was a major center in Wales prior to industrialization. It is meant something of an insult from the government because the Welsh are icky, just like women and aviators. The Rolands, naturally, do not care one bit and rather take a liking to the place. Most estates they are awarded are in England, however. They do not currently have a seat because they have dragons to fly. Might get some subsidiary titles (maybe something named for Scotland near Loch Laggan) so that Emily can be a Countess.

The dragon is not a perfect longwings, but it is blue, and holding a grenade to symbolize the guns and bombs. Four yellow stripes on green for an Admiral of the Air. Golden Laurels for Victory. A ducal coronet above. Jane is extremely mad that the College of Arms said she couldn’t swear in her motto, and refuses to use Latin or French until someone suggests “Excidium.” The dragon himself is quite pleased with this, although wishes his portrait was better. But the poor College of Arms people are already so sad about his hastily put together arms that Jane just left it.

#temeraire #jane roland #emily roland #Excidium #coats of arms #heraldry #temeraire series #dukes #peerage of Great Britain #great britain #united kingdom #duchess #duchy #earls #countess #earldom #aristocrats #peerage #nobility #in-universe media #william laurence

[lastoneout]

if/when the pla protag gets back to their time do you think it fucks with them that everyone they knew in the past is dead? like this isn’t like other pokemon media going to another world things, their friends aren’t off living their own lives somewhere else, they’re dead. have been for decades. probably have graves the protag could visit, well some of them, anyway. I bet some of them weren’t important enough for graves or memorials that lasted that long. some of them probably never even really got recorded as existing at all, and now the protag is the only one who remembers them.

like we all make jokes about the protag going back with Ingo and punting Cyrus into the next decade for the whole Team Galactic thing but like, after all that, do you think it hits them at some point that everyone’s dead now? do they look at Cyrus and just feel devastated because he might be the only thing that’s left of Cyllene? do they stay up late reading Laventon’s wikipedia page trying to reconcile the historical figure who has university buildings named after him and books written about him with the friendly father-figure who hugged them and remembered their birthday and made sure they ate dinner? do they research the history of the clans, trying to find whatever remnants might exist just to see something familiar, something that reminds them of the friends they made? do they go to memorials and graveyards and whatever historic buildings remain desperate to find some sense of closure, or maybe just comfort, to try and imagine that people they left behind are still there, just for a moment?

do they go back up to the top of mt. coronet and stand there in the ruined temple, eyes closed, wondering if maybe when they walk back down instead of the bustling towns of the future they’ll find a small camp with a familiar flag waving out front? does some deep, small part of them wish that they could go back, even just for a moment, just to see everyone one last time? do they regret not cherishing the time they did have, being so eager to get back home that they didn’t stop to appreciate what they were leaving behind?

cuz I mean sure the protag probably only spent a couple of years in the past, depending, but a couple of years is a long time when you’re a teenager finally coming into your own, even if they knew deep down the Hisui of the past wasn’t their real home and that they had to leave one day, I think it would be hard for them to truly let go of everything that happened to them, and especially the bonds they formed with the people there. it might not hit them right away, but nah I bet they would always feel just a little bit out of place once they came back, and I think eventually they’d really have to contend with the fact that everyone they knew is dead and gone and they’ll never see them again, and it's gonna be hard.

(and yeah they probably have Ingo, but he lives on the other side of the world and is an adult, it’s gonna be different for him. fifteen year olds are still kids, and kids really latch on to people in ways you don’t expect, especially when things are going Very Badly. I think Ingo would understand, but also, probably not as much as the protag would need him to.) 

I just really wonder sometimes...

#pla #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon meta #legends arceus #p:la #pokemon #long post #this post brought to you by 'I listened to Time Adventure again and now I'm sad' #look I'm writing a fic about this #kinda #but I just think about it and I go insane