#damask pattern chair

[vampirediaries101]

Contemporary Living Room Inspiration for a mid-sized contemporary open concept and formal concrete floor and gray floor living room remodel with gray walls, no tv and no fireplace

[im-just-a-boy-guys]

Expanding on an idea I had, I'll link the post :3

(MULTIMONSTER/GLORYHOLE/AFAB/FTM/ANY BODY TYPE/WERE-TIGER/ORC)

(3.8k words)

(CNC/FREE-USE/MONSTERKINK/GLORYHOLE/ANAL/ORAL/VAGANAL)

SCROLL DOWN TO THE BOTTOM TO SEE THE REFERENCES OF THE CREATURES!<3

(Heads up, pink text is just for unassorted side characters, they might make an appearance in future parts of the fic, and might have their own colors then.)

You walk into the facility excitedly. You had passed the screening, background check, drug test, lab work, and numerous other loops to fill the position you had applied for. You knew it was a sex-working job, but didn't have much more information than that, which you didn't mind.

You walked up to the front desk with your paperwork to greet the busty woman sitting there, her bright green eyes darting up at you from beneath her bangs. Her long black hair draped over her shoulders and the coils, along with her breasts bounced lightly as she moved. A flush of red swam across your cheeks and you tried to avert your gaze, pushing your view back up to her eyes.

"Hello!, I'm (y/n)! I'm here to see-", By the time you'd gotten past your name, she'd already found you on the list.

"Ah! (y/n), Spelled like this right?", She showed you the clipboard and smiled, pointing to your name with a pen. You nodded and returned her cheery expression.

"Yep! That's me!", She nodded and stood, you could now see her red, partially unbuttoned blouse and tight, black, knee-length skirt. As your eyes traveled down her body, they fell on her lovely bright red heels. All of these colors complemented her Olive skin delightfully, so much so that it was very difficult not to stare.

"Come on, hun. Follow me.", I wandered closely behind her and she led me into a large warehouse-type hallway, with many different doors leading into different hallways or rooms. We walked down the hallway and into a blue door on the left. She scanned her keycard and the door buzzed open.

"Once you've been here for a couple of days and decide that you'd like to continue, we will give you a keycard. Until then, I will come let you in."

The door opened into a large waiting area, The flooring was a beautiful dark wood, leading up to the furniture. All of the furniture was luxurious, the arms swirling elegantly. The couches and chairs were a red fabric with black flowers strewn across them, little whisps of swirls against the flower pattern. There was a Traditional Gold Damask on Bright Red Wallpaper lining the walls, all the way to a front desk with another woman with red hair and blue eyes looking up from her paperwork through her glasses.

"Oh! Is this the new hire? They're gorgeous!"

"Yes isn't he? I just know the clientele is going to love him. Alright, Cassandra, I'm going to take him back. Don't send in anyone too rough until his third day please."

She smiled and Cassandra nodded, "Of course Andromeda. As always."

She returned to her paperwork and the dark-haired woman led me into a room with an "Employees only" Sign.

"Alright, and If you just strip down, You'll be led to your room for the night. Oh, I almost forgot to ask, would you prefer human clients or monsters-", You'd almost forgotten monsters would be an option, but you felt your heart race at the idea. You'd never been with a monster before and the very thought put slick between your thighs.

"Monsters- please.", You said politely. She nodded and left you in the room by yourself. You looked into the body-length mirror as you undressed, hearing Cassandra's words in your head, calling you gorgeous. You were feeling super confident.

You heard a soft rap on your door, "May I come in, (y/n)?"

"Yes, I'm ready...", You bashfully covered yourself but only slightly. Andromeda smiled at you and gave you a soft look up and down.

"You look beautiful, come with me this way to your room.", You nodded and walked slowly behind her as she opened the door and led you down the red hallway, Along the wall, there were dark, red cushioned lifts that hung about 3 feet above the ground. The same wallpaper as the waiting room shines softly in the dim lighting. The woman opened a door with her keycard, another "Employees only" sign hanging from it.

As you entered, the hallway wrapped around as if to mirror the one you were just in, full of box-like rooms that were slightly elevated. She opened one of the secure doors, as you looked inside, the room was filled with that same, cushioned material, a pillow built into a table in the middle, and a red button hung next to the door.

"I'm going to open the door and you will put your rear end and your knees on the other side of the wall. It will secure your hips in place, and you will put your abdomen on this table. when your lower half is secured, this wall will open a small hole in front of you and the table will adjust you fowars slightly, or this wall will get closer to you."

You tried to keep up with what she was saying as you looked all over the room, figuring out how the mechanisms functioned so well. There must've been a lot of science, engineering, and thought put into these rooms. Andromeda scanned her card on the button pad, which helped adjust the walls and seating.

Once your hips were through the wall, and your knees were comfortable; you adjusted the closeness of the wall, and a hole opened up. The hole was right up next to your mouth and you couldn't help but daydream. Just thinking about the randomly colored cocks that would be in your face, how they might taste, and how thick they might be. More slick dripped down your thigh and you prayed no one would notice.

"Alright, are you comfortable?"

"Yes, Ma'am", She looked over her clipboard at how you addressed her as she checked off boxes, you almost wished she would play with you herself, now shamelessly staring at her chest, or at least what you could see under her clipboard.

"Would you like an aphrodisiac?", You looked at her confused and blushed.

"What- is that?", Andromeda put her clipboard to her hip and smiled,

"It's a drug, more spasifically a gass for us as a compsany, that makes you feel extra- in the mood."

She winked and chuckled. You nodded and looked down shamefully, "Yes please-"

"Alright hun, I'll be sure to set you up before we open. I'm going to ho around to the other side and make sure your legs are as open as they need to be, Ill close the wall once you're adjusted and we'll help all the other girls in. While you're waiting well hit you with the drugs okay?"

"Mhm"

You answered softly and let yourself relax, resting your arms on the rectangular table, your back arching softly as you adjusted. You were happy to find there was another armrest and a small lift button for the table. You messed with it, raising the table slightly and lowering it. You rested your arms on the wall, armrest, practicing how you would suck on the monsters that offered their cocks to you. Andromeda could be heard behind you,

"Oh, my~", she giggled softly as she examined you.

"Someone's exited huh? Alright, do you mind if I touch your legs and thighs? Make you look presentable?"

"No, I dont mind."

She hummed softly as her soft hands wrapped around your calves, pulling your legs carefully apart and gently spreading your pussy lips but making sure not to touch your aching hole. You wished she would, you imagined her acrylics gently rubbing at your insides, her fingertips rubbing your G-spot. You gasped softly when you felt her spread you, and she heard.

"Alright, you're all set up and look monster-ready", She chuckled and made her way back to the front hallway.

"Ok sweety, I'm going to close the holes around you and obviously the one in front of you will just close. The room will fill with a light gass, but it shouldn't feel suffocating. If it does, or anything hurts or goes wrong, press that red button to your left. Am I understood?"

You nodded and looked into her bright green eyes. You wanted to make her proud and prove you deserved to stay and that you could do the best at your job. Maybe you'd get a reward for doing well.

The hole closed and the wall behind you clenched tightly around your hips. This made you feel secure and the squeeze made you feel secure. A robotic voice sounded in a speaker,

"Is your waist secured too tightly?", I sat there for a moment and I answered out loud not sure what else I could do.

"No."

"Good. Prepare for Aphrodisiac.", As the voice went silent, you heard a soft hissing, and quiet music began to play. You took a few purposeful deep breaths as you let your mind wander to the various creatures that might violate you.

You hadn't realized how much time had gone by and soon the hole in front of you opened up and the hole around your hip loosened slightly. You could hear talking behind you, a deep gruff voice sounding out.

"Good- gods... Look at this one-", Another voice soon to follow.

"Damn, I wonder how good his mouth is...(y/n) huh? Cute name. I'll take the mouth first then we can swap out."

You looked down to see the drool pooled against your chin and your face flushed in embarrassment. You sat upright, trying to ready yourself for the fun.

"Ooh. You're really exited for this huh?", A harsh slap fell across your ass, causing you to moan out. The creature laughed and you felt a pointed tip against your sloppy hole.

Soon a thick, green cock was pushed through the hole in front of you, the pre-cum-covered tip pressed lightly against your cheek. The feeling of it was amazing, the drugs filling your head with so much glee. You rested your weight on your elbows and took hold of; what you were assuming was an orc's cock with both hands and rubbed the leaking, pink-tinted tip all over your face.

A soft groan could be heard from the other side of the wall and the creature began to thrust into the hole and against your face.

"Fuuck yes.. god whatever you're doing, pretty boy- keep going-", This excited you, and you happily obliged, and began to softly kiss against his soft tip. You smeared his leaking cum against your lips like salty lipgloss.

The animal behind you thrusted into your cunt roughly, causing you to pull the Orc just into your lips and moan out around him.

"Mmm!", You pushed your hips back against the man behind you.

"Very eager arent you, Sweetheart... I'm going to make you into a delightful little cum-mutt.", he growled as he began to push his hips forward into you, filling you and letting your walls stretch around him, all the way down to his inflating knot.

You were praying it was a Were-Tiger, you loved how handsome they were, their enticing colors, a Lion, or maybe a panther- the daydreams swam around in your head as you began to throat the Orc without much thought, swirling your tongue around his sensitive tip.

"Oh my god, that's so fucking good- yes- Good boy. I might become a regular if you keep this up...", this was encouragement, and you began to suck him into your throat deeper, bobbing your head faster.

You felt a set of claws sink into your hips deeply, but not breaking skin as the creature behind you pounded into you and pressed his knot as hard as he could against you. It was obvious how much he wanted to force it in.

The hole in front of you was big enough to fit the orc's balls through and you used one hand to steady his cock in your mouth, the other reaching down to fondle and squeeze them teasingly. Another soft hissing noise filled the space next to you and a little of the gas spilled out of the holes, encouraging the monsters to be more aggressive with you.

Your holes were getting violently fucked from both ends now and you could feel their lengths pulsing and throbbing against your walls and esophagus. You moaned loudly over the orc's cock, the vibrations sending him into a thrusting frenzy as he forced himself as deeply into your mouth as he could, cum filling your throat quicker than you could swallow, the warmth flooding your chest as you tried not to gag and choke.

Soon after, you felt the man behind you shove his knot into you as he came, his sharp tip pressing against your sensitive cervix. You squirted against him and pressed back against him, trying to ride out your orgasm on his knot. As your pussy clenched and grabbed at his cock, he made sure to grind with you, milking himself as much as he could. The orc pulled out of the hole in front of you and you could hear his heavy breathing as he leaned on the wall.

"Oh my- fuck that was so good.."

You moaned even louder, now that your mouth wasn't full as the man began to fuck you with his knot, popping it in and out as he continued to drain himself. He pulled out and groped your ass affectionately. You happily spaced out and arched your back, laying down and breathing for a moment. After about two minutes you felt a set of two giant fingers rub up and down your pussy and asshole.

The orc was using both you and the man's juices to lubricate both of your holes. You pushed your hips back against his fingers needily.

"Hold on sweet boy. I'll be inside of you soon.", This made you let out a soft pathetic whine, and then a thick, red, textured cock entered the hole in front of you. You immediately wrapped your mouth and hand around him excitedly, circling your tongue around his length.

A roar sounded from the other side, and he immediately began to fuck your mouth, which you were practically begging for. One of the orc's fingers slipped into your pussy, filling it even more than the other creature's cock did.

You drooled more around the man's length and rubbed him vigorously as you finally got to see the knot that filled you. You reached up with your free hand and treated him as you did the orc, massaging his knot and squeezing it tightly.

The orc pushed his fingers into you, into both stretching your holes. He eased them into you and your walls clenched hungrily around them. He chuckled and removed his finger from your pussy, keeping one in your virgin asshole. He moved his finger gently in and out and you could feel his tip against your cunt. The idea of his pretty tip against you made you clench more, just to squeeze out any of your slicks that you could. You'd spend all day sucking it if you could.

"Good boy~ Keep up like that and I'm going to cum down your delicious- feeling throat. God yes- right there-", The man in front of you cooed at you and you moaned around his tip louder as the orc entered you. You swirled your tongue aggressively around his tip and flicked your tongue over the small crease and hole.

His hips spasmed, forcing his cock into your mouth as his throbbing cock spewed warm, sticky cum into your mouth. You pushed your head forward to get the rest of him into your mouth, even trying to fit his knot into your mouth. You felt like your jaw was going to unhinge, but were almost excited to suck on it.

"Ugh- F-God!!", He milked himself into your mouth and tried to help shove himself into your hungry jaws, almost getting off to the feeling of your teeth scraping against his large knot.

The orc pushed himself into you deeply, enough to tease himself by rubbing against the hole of your cervix.

"Mmm, you're so tight-", He chuckled deeply and pulled his finger out of your ass and took your hips into his hands, gripping you securely as he began to thrust in and out.

The man in front of you pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to gasp and cough softly. You wiped your mouth and giggled dazedly, happily arching your back for the monster behind you.

It wasn't long before he couldn't help himself and began to greedily move faster. A soft tapping could be heard as his balls slapped softly against your clit, providing extra stimulation for yourself. You moaned loudly and cursed softly.

You began to grope your tits, pinching at your nipples with one hand and ducking on your fingers with the other, missing the feeling of something in your mouth. Your tongue felt lonely, but your pussy was being very well taken care of. The orc was shaped so wonderfully, his cock was slightly thicker in the middle, rubbing every single weak spot you had. You wanted to hold in your orgasm for as long as possible but were not successful, squirting against him and pushing your hips back into him to encourage your orgasm.

He happily moved his hips slower, guiding you through the rest of your orgasm. After you'd finished, he pulled out of you and pressed himself against you asshole.

"Now, I get to treat you like a real boy-", He laughed and pushed himself roughly into your ass and moved aggressively. The orc was needy for your tightness, huffing and grunting like an animal as he took you. You could feel his big hands wrapping around your whole waist as he used you like a fleshlight.

A heavy fog settled over you as you lay down against the table, happily just trying to relax your body for the other. You could hear the other creature talking to the orc behind you.

"God he looks so good when he's full, and his pussy is leaking cum.", The orc laughed as he thrusted.

"Isn't he? and his ass is so fucking tight- I can't get enough. We'll- UIgh- definitely have to come back-", The orc leaned forward and rested some of his weight against your back, you could feel the warmth and sweat on his chest. Your whines and whimpers subsided to quiet breaths of foggy salvation.

"We should request a private room with him, if he ended up a perma-hire." You could sense the other monster's eyes on you. You imagined him looking down at you like a steak and drooling against the soft fabric beneath you.

"God- I'm so close-", The orc grunted as he drove himself as hard as he could into you, groaning and laughing as he fucked you into a happy stupor. You felt a hot liquid burst into you and you screamed out, your tongue hanging out like a dog.

He panted and held himself inside of you for a moment before carefully pulling out. They both laughed softly and ran their hands and paws over your thighs and waist.

"You did so good for us pretty boy, we'll be back to see you again if we can. Maybe we'll have the pleasure of seeing your gorgeous face. It has to be as beautiful as your body."

They both gave your ass a good slap before you heard them leave. After a moment, you heard mechanisms wiring and the door around your hips was opened as well as the door in front of you. Your eyes drifted up to see the busty secretary who led you back here.

"Hiii Andromedaaa...", You slurred softly and giggled, absolutely fucked out of your mind. She smiled down at you and moved the hair out of your face.

"Did you have fun darling?", Her voice was soft and she held her clipboard up with her pen ready.

"It was very wonderful, I had so much fun.", She nodded and wrote something down.

"Mhm. Did they treat you well?", Her eyes didn't leave her paper.

"Yes, Ma'am.", She once more wrote something down and helped you out of the machine after tucking the clipboard under her arm. You smiled and wobbled slightly.

"Would you like some help? We have some really strong staff who can hold you up or carry you to your room to rest.", You nodded and looked around, trying to find something for you to steady yourself. Andromeda pulled a small walkie-talkie from her pocket and spoke into it.

"Hey, Can you send a carrier here, to hall 3-A please?", Within mere moments, a woman walked into the hall, she must've been at least 5ft 11'. You gawked at her, she was built very strongly, her breasts blending with muscle.

"Hello, I'll be your Carrior for the night. May I?", She smiled and opened her arms, taking a step closer. You nodded and replied softly. She had a soft Southern accent that made me swoon.

"Mhm- Please-", You reached out for her and did your best to stumble over to her. She picked you up carefully, bridal style. You looked up and studied her features. She had Darker skin than Andromeda's olive tint, a delightful, deep caramel color. Her hair was up in a ponytail or a messy bun, you couldn't tell very well. It looked to be a box dyed red but over her already dark hair.

She carried you to the room you had undressed in and into a side room you hadn't noticed. It was a bathroom with a luxurious bath and she gently laid you in it.

"Would you like me to turn on the water for you?", Her face tinted slightly darker as she looked you over.

"Yes please", You smiled up at her, blushing as well. She turned the water on to a nice hot temperature used a small picture and filled it with warm water, gently rinsing you off. The bath was then plugged and she pulled another pitcher off of the counter that was full of a creme-colored liquid and what looked like flower petals.

"If you dont mind my sayin' so- you look very pretty, uhm-", She gingerly poured the milk bath mixture into the water and over your body.

"(Y/N)", You added and giggled at her bashfullness.

"Got it. Well, I'm gonna let you clean up alright? Sure you can manage?", She stood, folding her arms in front of her like a bouncer at a club.

"Yes, I think I'll be alright.", You giggled more and smiled big. She nodded and opened the door to leave.

"You just uh- Let me know if you need me alright?"

"Alright.", You watched as she left and waited until hearing the second door to your room close before squealing happily, the night had gone amazingly and you'd been carried back to your room by the most attractive woman you thought you'd ever seen. You'd definitely be staying.

(Not my art, found on google :3)

[simmillercc]

NOW AVAILABLE FOR EVERYONE! - be sure to go to the project page to see all the pics! This is a big set :D

SIMS 4 - GOTHIC ELEGANCE COLLECTION - BASE GAME

I bring to you, The Gothic Elegance Collection.

There are 39 packages, including an easel, multiple floors, multiple walls, 3 living chair patterns in separate packages, a loveseat, a sofa, 8 painting sets, and 3 rugs.

This set will pair well with a lot of other Gothic decor out there, so, please, give it a try!

SWATCHES

Painting Easel - 7

Sofa (Damask) - 42

Loveseat (Plain) - 23

Living Chair

- Plain - 23

- Damask - 15

- Roses - 10

Rugs

- 4X4 - 22

- 4X3 - 14

- 4X2 - 53

Paintings

- Gothic Elegance - 48

- The Wise Old Owl - 30

- The Gothic Outdoors - 45

- The Chandelier - 20

- The Moth - 15

- Mortals - 60

- The Garden Gate - 42

- Dark Elegance - 66

- Black Roses - 48

- White Gold - 30

Floors

- Gothic Cement Floor Tiles Small - 4

- Gothic Cement Floor Tiles - 4

- Victorian Gothic Herringbone Wood Floor - 10

- Victorian Gothic Stone Floor - 7

- Victorian Gothic Floor Tiles Small - 4

- Victorian Gothic Floor Tiles - 4

Walls

- Gothic Elegance with and without molding - 53

- Coffins with and without molding - 14

- Skulls with and without molding - 14

- Wings with and without molding - 20

- Mr. Crow with and without molding - 18

- Vintage Ornate with and without molding - 14

- Plain with and without molding - 27

CATALOG INFO

Custom thumbnails for everything.

All in game names begin with GE and the item type, so they are easy to find.

For example: GE Wallpaper - Wings, GE Sofa Damask, etc.

All Walls cost 8 Simoleons per panel and are found in the Wallpaper section.

This set began with the walls simply entitled Gothic Elegance, and I put the darkest black plain wall swatch in with it, so it's easy to match with the rest of the patterns in the set, all with the same black colour. The other plain wall colours are in their own packages.

All walls come in full wallpaper, and wallpaper with black molding versions.

The sofa comes in a damask pattern with black wood accents, and costs 1200 Simoleons.

The loveseat comes in a plain version with black wood accents, and costs 1100 Simoleons.

There are 3 living chair packages, all with black wood accents: Damask, Plain, and Roses. They all cost 410 Simoleons.

There are 6 packages for floors, all costing 8 Simoleons:

Tiles x2 - regular and small pattern, found in Tiles and Linoleum

Cement x2 - regular and small pattern, found in Tiles and Masonry

Stone - found in Stone

Herringbone Wood - found in Wood

The Easel is found in Activities/Creative, costs 900 Simoleons, and is an altered base game mesh. New Polygons:

LOD0 1064

LOD1 866

Shadow LOD0 1040

Shadow LOD1 842

There are 10 packages for paintings, and all are found in Decorations>Paintings and Posters. 6 are an altered mesh of a base game item, simply reduced in size. The mesh is in one of the painting sets, the others are recolours. Therefore, the one with the mesh is required for the others to work in game. See below:

Mortals - 2150 Simoleons - CONTAINS THE MESH

Dark Elegance - 2150 Simoleons - Recolour of altered mesh

The Chandelier - 2150 Simoleons - Recolour of altered mesh

The Gothic Outdoors - 2150 Simoleons - Recolour altered my mesh

The Wise Old Owl - 2150 Simoleons - Recolour of altered mesh

the Moth - 2150 Simoleons - Recolour of altered mesh

White Gold - 650 Simoleons

The Garden Gate - 650 Simoleons

Black Roses - 650 Simoleons

Gothic Elegance - 950 Simoleons

Rugs are found in Decorations>Rugs:

4X4 - 750 Simoleons - Damask pattern

4X2 - 650 Simoleons - All 4 Gothic Elegance patterns from the Gothic Elegance wallpaper

4X3 - 650 Simoleons - 1 Gothic Elegance pattern from the Gothic Elegance wallpaper

PATREON https://www.patreon.com/posts/110601626

CURSEFORGE https://www.curseforge.com/.../gothic-elegance-collection

[nafynart]

What we could have been

a Good Omens x Arcane fanart, i hope you like it 🫶

wee details?

I wanted

- to add the eyes as a biblically accurate angel reference,

- to create a little custom damask pattern with a daffodil, a serpent and a flaming sword,

- to show him vulnerable without his glasses but still having them in his hand,

- to put the wide wings as an echo to the feathers around Jinx’s chair, but also to make Crowley look fierce

I hope you like it, have some close-ups ✨

[starsandink13]

The White Crow Game Chapter 2

You woke up with a sudden start and your eyes flashed open. You sucked up a deep breath as you jolted upwards. Your shoulders heaved as the faint memories of what transpired looped in your head. Underneath your fingers, you felt a soft velvet upholstery.

"W-what?" You squinted your eyes and looked around.

Although it was dark, you could clearly tell that you were no longer in your workplace's restroom, but rather an old parlor room. The furniture was expensive and antique, dating back to at around the early 1900s or late 1800s. Even in the dark, you could see how rich the colors of the furniture was. You ran your finger against the velvet once more, feeling an intricate damask pattern.

"Glad to see that you've finally woken up, (Y/N)," a voice said from behind you.

You whipped your head around to see an extremely tall man turning on the tassel light next to his chair. He wore a red and gold coat with a black top hat that casted half of his face in shadows. Pinned to his hat and white shirt were black broaches with a golden moon and eye in them. He held an unearthly and eldritch beauty to him, with ghostly white hair that framed his pale face, sharp features, and red eyes with gold rings in them. His lips were pulled into a slight smile as he reclined further into his seat.

"Where am I?" You asked, unable to keep the dread creeping into your voice.

"An estate of mine that's on the border between realms," he answered calmly, took off his hat, and brushed back a lock of hair that revealed a pointed ear.

"W-what the--"

"What am I?" The stranger cut you off and crossed one of his legs over the other. "I believe that you humans call my kind the good-folk, the fair-folk, the fae, or most commonly: fairies."

Before you could ask, he spoke again: "And you're wondering why you're here, am I right?"

You numbly nodded your head, your mind racing with countless questions as you tried to process what was going on.

"Well to put it simply: I am here to collect your debt."

"D-debt?"

"You wished for your life to improve, grades to rise, a higher pay, better living quarters, and the internship of your dreams," he waved his hand. "I overheard you and granted that wish, so now it's time to collect that debt."

"Wait!" You stammered. "But I didn't make any sort of deal with you or anything! This is hardly fair!"

"Sorry dear, but you should have been more careful with your wishing. However, I am far more fair and generous compared to other members of my kind. I didn't suddenly make your life much worse than it was, steal your firstborn, or strike you with a terrible ailment the next week. "

"How can I repay you then? Money? A yearly sacrifice? A--"

"You'll have to come with me back to the fae realm."

"What? Why for?"

"What do you think it might be for?" The fairy's eyes glittered with amusement. "Think about all of the old stories that humans have told for centuries about us; long before you imagined us as tiny, glittery, winged people that frolicked in flowers and played silly little pranks."

"A- a servant?"

"Good guess, but that's not it."

Your stomach dropped at what he meant. Swallowing back the lump in your throat, you barely managed to stammer out: "The reason you're doing this-- why you want to take me away...is to get a bride, right?"

"Correct."

Your heart dropped and you leaned away from the fairy. The thought of being taken away to a land far from your home, married to that monster and left at its mercy with no hope of escape made your stomach turn and churn. Sweat rolled down your forehead and you gripped your knees as you breathed heavily and tears started to form in your eyes.

There's got to be a way out of here! Think, damn it, think!

"If we're done here, then I'll prepare a coach and start wedding--"

"Wait." You spoke up.

"What is it?"

"Your kind likes to play games and bets, right?"

"Yes they do-- however, I am an exception to the rule," he said. "But for you, I am willing to hear where you're going with this."

You licked your lips and took a deep breath. Your heart drummed against your chest as blood pounded in your ears and gripped your knees. His dual-colored eyes twinkled with amusement as he tapped his long fingers against the arm of his chair. 

"If I can escape this mansion of yours, you'll have to let me go," you chewed the inside of your mouth. "If I lose or I give up..."

"You'll have to come with me," he finished with a small smile.

You nodded your head, trying to keep yourself from vomiting the bile in the back of your throat. The fairy noticed your consternation and grinned wider, his teeth glinted like white daggers in the dim light.

"And why should I agree to this little game of yours when I can just spirit you away right now?" He leaned in.

"You pride yourself on being more generous and just compared to other fairies, so wouldn't it be fair to give me a chance to earn my freedom?"

"I suppose so," he mused and drummed his index finger harder against the chair's arm. After several seconds, he sighed and gently straightened up the front of his coat.

"I accept to play your game. But before we do that, I want to establish a few rules."

"What are they?" You felt your stomach clamping with fear.

"First off, under no circumstance are you to get help from any of the other residents in the mansion, nor are you to help them so that they may try to return the favor to you. You are to complete this game by yourself, understood?"

"I-I think so..."

"It's a yes or a no, my dear. What is it that you don't understand?"

"The other residents. What do you mean by that?"

"They are...what remains of those that thought they could cheat their way out of their deals with me," he answered. "They've been here for so long, that for most of them the only thing that remains is their desire to swindle you for their own gain: which can mean disastrous results for you. Does this make sense?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then on to rule two: the game doesn't start until you exit through those double doors there that leads into the main hall." He pointed to the golden doors a few yards away from you.

"Understood." 

"Now onto the third and final rule: the only way you can exit and win this game is by going out of the mansion's front doors. So do not cheat by breaking a window and crawling out of it. The only thing you're going to accomplish is breaking a perfectly good window and annoying me."

"I understand."

"Excellent. Now that we have that established, you can feel free to relax for as long as you'd like in here or ask me any questions in the meantime," the right corner of his mouth twitched into a smile.

"W-what's your name?" You licked your teeth.

"Since my true name is impossible to pronounce with the human tongue, you may call me whatever you'd like," he said. "However, do not call me what you would be insulting or belittling, or as your generation would call 'smartass' names."

"How about Corvin?"

"That's an acceptable name." He nodded his head. "Anything else you'd like to ask?"

"How bad are the other fairies?" You asked.

"Much, much worse than I am." He responded and leaned in, half of his face was covered in heavy shadows. "The old stories you've heard about us using half and metaphorical truths to manipulate, making crops wither overnight, stealing away children and replacing them with ours are very true. But those are just barely scratching the surface of what kind of mischief we do regularly. Any other questions you have for me, my dear?"

"Is this what you actually look like?" You scratched your hand, "Or is this just a form you're taking?"

"The general shape of this form is what I truly look like, just with a few...more humanlike attributes than I actually have." The fairy responded with a light laugh.

"I have one more question."

"What is it?"

"If I win, will I be back to where I started?"

"You mean going back to the life you had before I blessed you?" Corvin said. "No. Especially during my observations I've noticed how hard you worked in your personal ambitions once everything improved. If that's all of the questions you wanted answered, then now would be a good time to finally start our game."

Hesitantly, you got out of your chair and slowly walked towards the double doors. You looked over your shoulder to see Corvin grinning at you.

"Go on. You're just delaying the inevitable by standing there, unless you want to surrender already," his eyes shining with amusement.

With a shaking sigh, you opened the double doors and took your first step outside. With a phantom strike of an unseen grandfather clock, the game has officially begun.

[sailorshadzter]

Spring finally arrives and along with it, forgiveness and warmth. Home. He is finally home. A time in which Jon finally forgives himself and the weight in his heart that once banned him from going home was lifted (the only ban that every existed because everyone knows he was always a hero)

hi anon!

thanks for the (VERY VERY OLD) request. i really wish (or maybe i dont lol) tumblr dated these.

i hope you see this!!!!!!!!! and you like it if you do!!!!

send me prompts

He wakes to the sound of the birds singing. 

What a strange concept, he thinks, rolling over onto his side, opening his eyes so he might observe the morning rays of light peeking in through his curtains. Pushing back the furs, all while making a mental note to ask for some lighter blankets, he sits up and swings his legs over the edge of his bed. 

It’s been something like six weeks since his return to Winterfell and somehow in that time, spring had made itself known. 

Almost as if it had been waiting for his return. 

A sigh escapes him and he stands up, stretching, before he makes his way across the room, reaching for the white shirt he’d draped over the back of a chair before going to bed the night before. It was a new shirt, one which was stitched by the hands of the very queen he’d come to serve. Queen or not, Sansa still thoroughly enjoyed sewing and she’d provided him with many new clothes upon his return to Winterfell. 

When he’s fully dressed, he slips away from his rooms, heading down the hall, pausing only a moment at the door that belongs to her. But, from within he hears the voices of the maids, telling him she’s already left for the morning. So he continues on, taking a flight of stairs down and taking a left down another hall. There on his right he stops at another door, raising his hand to knock- three quick knocks, one she would know anywhere.

And then he steps inside. 

She stands at the window, the morning sun framing her in the most beautiful of ways. 

To his surprise (and delight) she’s done away with her heavy winter gowns, replacing it with instead a sage green damask, its sweeping sleeves trimmed with elaborate gold thread, the hemline mimicking the very same pattern. She turns at the door, her rosy lips curving with a smile at the sight of him there, head tilting just enough to send her hair cascading across a shoulder. “Good morning,” his queen greets, sending his heart fluttering. 

It was not always this easy, he thinks, for it was not that long ago that he lived in a dark world. One full of regrets and fear, one where he worried he was not enough for her, one where he worried his presence would tarnish her good name. Hundreds of letters from her went unanswered, though they were all kept, even now tucked into the corner of his trunk. He had murdered one of his own- for the greater good, of course, and truth be told killing Daenerys was the least of his issues. But the war… The fighting… If only he’d done things differently. If he’d handled the situation differently, perhaps thousands of innocent lives would not have been stolen. 

The grief of that had nearly taken all of him, left him bereft, left him lost to drink, the only way he could ever feel any relief. It had taken time, over a year of it in fact, to come to realize that missing her was far worse than any of the other pain he felt. And so he’d sent her a letter back, thinking the worst that could happen would be her not bothering to answer him at all. Instead, she wrote him back, summoning him with her queenly demand. 

So he listened, coming to his queen’s call. 

“You are a spring queen,” he says with a grin of his own, approaching her where she stands, watching as she blushes pink. “I can’t remember when I last saw you in such a color.” For the last two years or more she’s worn nothing but gray and black, a sign of her mourning, a sign of her place as Ned Stark’s daughter. There wasn’t a single man in Winterfell that could recall their old lord ever wearing anything but black and gray. But she was not Ned Stark, she was his daughter, and she was their queen. “It suits you.” The soft green is a lovely contrast to her ivory skin, to her vibrant red hair. 

“Thank you,” she says, still blushing. 

They make small talk for a while, she seated there in the window seat, he atop the desk. He had forgotten how easy it was to talk to her like this- then he had to laugh, because until now, they never had anything but war and grief to speak of. “You know…” She’s saying now, drawing him back out of his own thoughts. “I have heard that the first seedlings have sprouted in the gardens, I thought I might take a walk through them to see for myself. Won’t you join me?” She looks his way, blue eyes bright and shining, a beauty unlike anything he’s ever had the pleasure of seeing. 

“Of course,” he replies, rising up so he might offer her his arms, which she takes when she stands up. 

Together they make their way down the hall and down the flight of stairs to the main hall, out the double doors and into the bright spring sunlight. 

Jon smiles, wondering how he ever could have stayed away. 

After all this time, he was home.

[tigerlyla-of-metinna]

His Eyes of Flame

Emhyr with a glass of brandy, lounging in a cushioned chair, his ring glinting in the light, a smoldering smile on his face.

A portrait of Emhyr var Emreis in a modern outfit enjoying a pleasant day with a glass of his favorite drink.

(I included a wedding band last minute - he is married at this point with anyone he is paired with)

Resources: Patterns from Photoshop_Stock, damask pattern lifted from Emhyr's red surcoat, BG from my screenshot files. Painted in Paintool SAI with photoshop finishes.

[somethinaboutdemonslayer]

Ascension to paradise

Teehee this is my first ever douma fic, I hope i did him justice, haha. Enjoy!

Trigger warnings: Graphic depictions of being eaten alive, cannibalism, as well as sexual undertones. Manipulation, cult activity, and just Douma as his own warning.

MINORS DNI!!!

1.8k words

———————

A beautiful furisode kimono adorned my body, rinzu silk made up the lovely garment, the silk was apparently similar to a western version of silk called silk satin damask, woven with beautiful designs. In fact, this kimono is made of rinzu silk that I wove by myself, it's design made to represent pure paradise, decorations of ice blue lotus flowers and pink sakura blossoms adorned it in a beautiful pattern. It was all for him, I hope that Kyoso-sama will enjoy my work.

My smile was obvious as I stepped out of my dressing room, waiting for one of Kyoso-sama's retainers to bring me to him.

"Ah, ojou-san, Kyoso-sama is ready to see you," an elderly man spoke, he held out his hand with a soft smile, while his other hand held onto a walking stick.

I grabbed his hand gently with a nod and he lead me to an elaborate door, the room of Kyoso-sama.

He let go of my hand and left. I got down on the floor to announce my presence to the shoji door.

"Ah, come in!"

With that, I slowly slid open the door. Kyoso-sama entered my view. His hair truly spoke of his relation to the gods, pure and white, even with the red spot, it just made him seem more holy. The way his rainbow eyes looked my way, both of them lit up with what looked to be happiness, it's beauty made me blush. They never spoke of what ascension to paradise meant, but, I just know it has to be beautiful, just as beautiful as Kyoso-sama.

"Ah, little lotus, please, wait no longer and come inside~" his voice rang out, it was as beautiful as ever, causing my face to heat up more.

"Of course, Kyoso-sama..." I nodded and entered the room, then, turned my back to Kyoso-sama as I gently slid the door closed. I turned back to him, blushing as I looked up at him. He was always so beautiful, always so kind...

"Well, lotus-chan, stand and come to me, yes?"

"Ah, of course Kyoso-sama..." I did as he said, slowly standing up as to not ruin my hair and kimono. I trotted over to him, placing my hands in the sleeves of my kimono.

"Ah! Hey," he smiled, adjusting the way he sat in his chair, looking closely at my kimono, "Is that your handywork!? It looks beautiful!"

"Huh..? Ah.. yes... it is.." I blushed, he was always so kind, he could always tell my own work from the work of others. From every moment with him, I remember that he'd always notice my work, and compliment it.

Looking back...

"Ah, Kyoso-sama... you're..."

"Hoh! That looks great! I never knew you were so good at weaving silk! Hey, hey, can you make some for me?"

I'd look up at him, that was the first time I realized...

I loved him. Not just for his looks, but he was just so kind, no one had cared for my textiles before, but it was Douma... the founder, Kyoso-sama... who finally understood, understood how much work I had put into them.

I had begun becoming more passionate about my textiles and sewing, making Kyoso-sama incredibly happy. Whenever I had finished one, I always showed it to him, and he always loved it, so I always made more to gift to him, he always seemed so happy...

"Yeah! I could tell your work from a mile away! You're such a wonderful craftsman, and just so..." he stood up and went to cup my face in one of his hands, "So... so beautiful... I'm sure you're so healthy as well... a good craftsman needs a healthy body so they can keep going... yes?"

I held his hand that was on my face and nodded, he was always so kind... What other man in the world would be this amazing? No other man could compare, perhaps that is why I haven't a family yet, no man could compare to Kyoso-sama... Ah, I've repeated that already, maybe it was a testament to just how unique he truly was.

"Yes, Kyoso-sama, every piece of my art... I dedicate it all to you..." I leaned into his touch.

"Ah, that kimono you're wearing is a brilliant piece... ah... You cheeky thing, a furisode? Are you trying to tell me something, young lotus~?" his hand went from my cheek to my chin, holding it up to look at my face. I averted my eyes.

"Ah... n-no... it's nothing like that... Kyoso-sama..." I felt even hotter.

"Ah~ It's okay if you are~ Here, look at me, beautiful lotus~"

I looked up to meet his beautiful gaze, his rainbow eyes never ceased to amaze me... "Y-yes...? Kyoso-sama...?"

"Ah... you're so beautiful, you have no idea, either..." he leaned forward, using his other hand to... move into my kimono and the nagajuban underneath, his touch was cold... but only now am I realizing it.

"K-kyoso-sama...?" I was burning up more. Did ascending to paradise... mean...!?

Looking back on all the girls who had ascended... they were all gorgeous and were head over heels for Kyoso-sama. Ah.. they were all beautiful women... did this mean...? Did the founder see me as...

I felt even more red.

"Beautiful lotus... are you ready...?"

"R-ready for what...? K-kyoso-sama...?"

He smiled, his face becoming close to my neck, his breath wasn't hot... it was rather chilly, causing me to shiver.

"Are you ready... for your ascension to paradise...? My lotus flower~? My beautiful... beautiful... flower..."

My mind began racing. Was this... was this what it was...? Was... Was ascension...

His hands worked around my kimono, gently moving the bodice and sleeves past my shoulders, opening it.

His head went further down my neck and then down my chest.

"You look so... beautiful... and just so... so... so.. so.. delicious..."

Suddenly, pain erupted from my chest, as if I had been bitten by a beast.

But why...? Why would this pain...? Wait.. delicious..? How..? what?

The pain interrupted my thoughts, I could feel my skin ripping from the flesh, burning at the contact point between myself and...

His teeth.. they were so sharp... His eyes looked up at me as I stared back down in horror. He had blood everywhere around his mouth. I looked even further down. My chest... where my breast starts... it's been ripped and... I see the fat spilling out...

"I was right...! You are delicious! Hey hey, does it feel good? The face you're making... really sends shivers down my spine, you know?"

His happy-go-lucky tone betrayed what he was doing to me. "Yeah! You're definitely enjoying this! Hey, you wouldn't mind if I take it slow for you, right~?" He bit down on my shoulder, I tried to scream, but nothing except tears came.

The flesh tearing so close to my ear was the second worst thing about this. The squelching... mixed with my own dazed breathing, and the way he chews and swallows...

"Ah! You're crying! Hey hey, here, let me help you with that!" he lifted his head to my own, grabbed my chin, and licked my tears. Leaving trails of blood that led up from my cheeks to my eyes.

I was able to let out a choked sob, which caused him to laugh, "Ah! You finally made a noise~ Music to my ears, you know...? Please... make a symphony for your beloved Kyoso-sama...~"

My voice suddenly found it's place, and out came whimpers, and begging, "P-please Ky...Kyoso-sama... I beg you... please stop..."

"Ehh..? Why would I stop?" he licked my blood off of his hands. In fact, his hands looked different as well. His nails were long and blue. Ah, what's more, his seat was covered in a wall of ice...? How..?

"Please... I'll do... whatever you want... please just... s..sto-" a scream erupted from my mouth as more pain came, my entire body was on fire, and my mind was screaming at me to run as fast as I could, but I couldn't get my limbs to move at all.

"You think you could really give me anything except your body...? You're more naive then I remembered... lotus~" he spoke with his mouth full.

He worked on removing my obi, one that I had spent days weaving for this ceremony... "This Kimono is rather lovely... I wouldn't want to ruin it with your blood.. so.. I'll take it off, okay?" he smiled, that awful red liquid around his lips and teeth. My kimono came off, exposing all of me to him.

Maybe, at one time, this would've been my dream, to lie exposed to this man whom I've admired almost all of my life. Maybe in another lifetime, something I've imagined with a different man can happen, but now... Douma's image has been ruined for me. I can only now imagine what those women who went before me went through.

I was set down on the tatami mat, as the tears rushed down my face. Douma set my kimono and obi on his seat, then moved his body on top of my own.

"It's sad that I have to get rid of you now, since your textiles are so gorgeous, but if I waited any longer... sadly your flesh would get stale... Hah... y'know.. it was such a hard decision.. but you smelled so delicious that I couldn't resist~"

I held up my arms to hide my head, everything was hurting, but I just didn't want to die.

"Huh? You're hiding yourself from me...? Why? Doesn't it feel good? Ah..! Did I forget to kiss you before giving you pleasure? Haha! Oops!" he hit his head lightly with his closed fist, removing my arms from in front of my face, pinning my arms to my sides. He pressed his lips on my own, it didn't take too long for him to move back to my neck, not leaving trails of bitten off flesh, but with kisses, what was going on...?

"Ah, now that I'm done with that, it's time to continue, yes?" he smiled, then trailed his disgusting claws down my chest, then more pain came from my stomach. A scream, was that from me? It sounded like my voice, but was it? With the pain coming...

"Ah~ Are you not screaming anymore...? That's too bad, I was hoping to hear a little bit more...~ Oh well! You're head is pretty, so I'll cut off when you finally die~"

He took another bite. All I feel is pain. Spreading throughout my body. The stretching and ripping of skin and flesh made me want to scream, but nothing came out but dry heaving.

Bite after bite, pain after pain. Was Kyoso-sama always like this...? I can only remember him being so kind, and helpful, he always gave such great advice.

When did...

When did he... become so....

[camillasgirl]

Historic chairs to be reused for the Coronation

In addition to St Edward’s Chair (Coronation Chair), which is used for the moment of crowning, The King and The Queen Consort will be seated in Chairs of Estate and Throne Chairs at different points during the service.

In the interest of sustainability, Their Majesties have chosen to use Chairs of Estate and Throne Chairs from the Royal Collection made for previous Coronations. These have been conserved, restored and adapted as required.

The Chairs of Estate which will be used on the 6th May 2023 were made in 1953 by the London firm White, Allom and Company for the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II on 2nd June 1953.

Their Majesties will be sat in the Throne Chairs for the Enthroning and the Homage. These chairs were made for the Coronation of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth on 12th May 1937.

Earlier this year, Their Majesties visited the Royal School of Needlework to meet craftspeople and embroiders who contributed to the project. As The Duchess of Cornwall, Her Majesty The Queen Consort became Patron of the Royal School of Needlework in 2017.

Chairs of Estate

Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II used her Chair of Estate during the 1953 service, while the companion Chair of Estate for Prince Philip, The Duke of Edinburgh, was not used at the Service itself but was delivered to Buckingham Palace, where both Chairs have been on display in the Throne Room for many years.  

The Chairs of Estate are made from carved and gilded beechwood in the seventeenth century-style which was used for earlier Chairs of Estate. The cyphers of Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip are featured in the carving of the giltwood stretcher joining the front legs, together with the national emblems of a rose, thistle, and shamrock.

The Chairs of Estate will be used during the early parts of the Service and for the Coronation of Her Majesty The Queen Consort.

In preparation for the Coronation, Gilding and Furniture Conservators from the Royal Collection Trust have cleaned, restored and consolidated the giltwood frames. New silk damask was woven by the Humphries Weaving Company, Suffolk to the same pattern with which they were originally upholstered. This was to allow for the cyphers of The King and The Queen Consort to replace those of Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip, which were removed and will be kept in the Royal Collection.

The new cyphers for the Chairs of Estate have been hand embroidered by the Royal School of Needlework, and created with cloth of gold, woven with a metal thread. The cloth of gold was then embellished with gold metallic threads. Upon completion, the cyphers were applied onto the silk damask using the appliquè technique. The upholstery was completed by the Royal Household’s upholsterers, including the re-use of the original braid and trimmings.

Throne Chairs

Made by White, Allom and Company, in a seventeenth century style which in turn was based on X-framed Tudor stools. The Chairs were upholstered in crimson velvet and applied with the Royal Arms of King George VI and Queen Elizabeth.

In preparation for the Coronation, the Chairs have been conserved by the Royal Collection Trust’s Furniture Conservators. The crimson silk velvet has been replaced with new velvet and trimmings and the chairs reupholstered by the firm of AT Cronin Workshop Ltd.

New silk braid and trellis fringe, replicating the original trimmings of the Throne Chairs has been woven by Heritage Trimmings Ltd of Derby. The silk was produced by The Humphries Weaving Company, Suffolk, and the silk for the fringe has been specially dyed by Gainsborough Silks, Suffolk. The Royal School of Needlework conserved the original embroidered Coat of Arms on His Majesty’s chair before transferring it onto the new velvet.

In addition, the new Coat of Arms of The Queen Consort has been hand embroidered on Her Majesty’s Throne Chair using the silk shading technique, which has been applied to the new velvet.

St Edward’s Chair (Coronation Chair)

Made over 700 years ago, from Baltic oak and first used at the Coronation of King Edward II. During Their Majesties Coronation on May 6th, His Majesty will be crowned King on St Edward’s Chair.

Congregation Chairs

One hundred chairs have been made in collaboration between The Royal Household, Royal Warrant Holder furniture maker N.E.J Stephenson and The Prince’s Foundation. These chairs were designed by N.E.J Stephenson and will be positioned in Westminster Abbey.

The Chairs have been covered in blue velvet and feature the cyphers of Their Majesties.

The frames of several of the Congregation Chairs were made by six young graduates from The Prince’s Foundation at the Snowdon School of Furniture at Highgrove using traditional materials and techniques to create the chairs with sustainable British oak. This forms part of the wider work carried out by The Prince’s Foundation to preserve traditional skills that are at risk of being lost.

Following the Coronation, the Chairs will be auctioned, and the proceeds will be donated to charity.

[bishop-percival]

@stuckinuniformdevelopment

(prev) When Bishop Percival flung his hand Teddy’s instinctively reeled out to catch it… only to be halted by a sharp stab of pain under his arm. He gritted his eye, gave that jerk an unimpressed look (which hardly differed from his default seemingly judgemental expression) and accepted them before returning to a proper upright position. Then Teddy carefully took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. Soon Bishop Percival received a pair of texts. What did you have in mind? It’ll be easier to refer back to in writing.

As Teddy typed on his phone, the bishop dragged a nearby chair closer to his bed and sat down, leisurely crossing his legs.

“Hey! Who’re ya texting when I’m in your presence?” Right after he said that, his phone went off, which the text notification sound was set as some kind of loud, horrifying, demonic scream. Percy took his phone out upon hearing the second notification. “Oh! Haha, you’re texting me!”

He began typing his response… But Percy was a very slow typer. After about two minutes of silence, he growled and set his phone in his lap.

“Bah! I’ll text you the details later so you can have it in writing.”

Percival gestured with his hands as he explained his vision. “My recent victory has me feeling deserving of a powerful-looking mitre. I’m thinking of a gorgeous Mitra Pretiosa but with a sharper gothic design rather than the rounder roman design of my past mitre. I’m not gonna change up the colors much. The fabric will still be red with gold lining and a black band. And of course, the glorious mark of Glorn will be embroidered on the gold in black. However! Instead of plain, I’m thinking of silk damask for the red… BUT! Ooh, there’re two damask patterns I can't decide between… What do you think, Bowtie?”

Percy took his phone again and leaned toward Teddy to show him the screen. On it was a floral damask pattern in which the flowing leaves and petals formed what resembled a demonic face. “Ain’t this one neat!? It looks like a bunch of Zranthars scowling at us!”

He then swiped his finger across the screen to show a different pattern, this one with jagged lightning bolts intertwining. “But this one also looks fierce and fits in with the bolt motif of Glornism…”

[not-a-coral-snake]

like my mirror, years ago

(aka I finally finished my Dark Rise one shot about Cyprian and James)

(it's also here on ao3)

Note: The hand-wavy plot-building for this story’s premise is that James joining forces with Will leads to James also working with the others, and they managed to argue and fight and trauma bond their way into some kind of tentative friendship-adjacent truce. Set at some point during a peaceful interlude in which they’re back at the Hall and Cyprian, Grace, and Sarah are considering the future and doing their best to preserve their culture.

"Look, I wouldn't be doing this if I had any other option," Cyprian says. 

James is, of course, lounging. "A promising start to a conversation," he drawls. 

Cyprian lets out a sharp hiss of breath. "It's just. I was never assigned shifts with the weavers. Neither were Grace or Sarah. And we can't figure out how to work the looms they used for clothing."

"And?"

"And, were you ever assigned to help the weavers for chores as a child?" 

"Yes."

A pause. "And could you help show me how to use their looms?"

"I'd be happy to," James says, with a smile that doesn't even attempt to look genuine.

The loom rooms are in a sunny corner of the Hall of Stewards, high in a turret with windows set all around to allow for good light. High enough that their only disturbance from the attack on the Hall is a few overturned chairs and upended baskets, evidence merely that their occupants had departed with haste. The looms are set up in rows that arch slightly near the tower’s round wall.  James picks a loom seemingly at random and begins to set it up, adding from a haphazard pile on the floor what look like additional frames. There is still good thread, hardly dusty yet, in baskets on the floor, and James begins the tedious process of threading it through the large comb-like structure that Cyprian is dimly aware is responsible for correctly spacing the warp threads. 

Of course he isn’t going to bother with a proper explanation. Not unless Cyprian brings himself to explicitly ask. Instead, he mimics James’s motions as neatly as he can from the loom to his right. So there’s a Steward art James knows that Cyprian doesn’t. So what. 

James moves on, begins tying up sections of the warp threads and attaching them to strings that connect them to the loom’s overhead shafts. He answers Cyprian’s questions—how many threads in a bundle, how distantly spaced they should be—directly and without embellishment, which is all Cyprian can hope for. For a while, that is the extent of the conversation—“Like this?” “A little narrower.”—and Cyprian entertains hope this will be bearable after all. 

When it comes time to actually begin weaving, James deigns to actually explain something without prompting, and shows Cyprian the pattern of raising and lowering bundles of warp threads, the process of knocking his weft thread towards him on each row to make it lie smooth and straight. The repeated motion, the clacking of the looms, the steady growing of the cloth before him is pleasant. He can almost forget who it is sitting in the room beside him. The reason why the other looms around them sit unused, dusty and silent as the rest of the Hall around them.

Except—“This is just plain weaving,” Cyprian says, when nearly an inch of it has accumulated on his loom. “I could buy cloth like this anywhere. You said you could teach me to weave Steward cloth.” 

“And I will,” James says. “But you need to practice basic weaving before you take on a complicated pattern like the ones they used.”

Master the simple, to master the complex. It’s a very Steward teaching philosophy. Cyprian clenches his fist around the shuttle.

“All right, you’ve shown me the basics. Teach me a real pattern now.”

“Before I show you a true Steward pattern, you should try an ordinary damask. It’s many of the same principles, without—”

“Do you even really know how to do Steward weaving? Or did Simon just send you off to help the housemaids when he didn’t have any other use for you?”

“Fine,” James says, and he’s standing up, taking down the warp thread and binding it into bundles again. “Divide your warp thread into bundles of three, and put a second set of shafts on the back harness. And quickly, we’re burning daylight.”

This time, the pattern of raising and lowering the warp is indeed complicated, such that Cyprian feels like he’s playing piano with his feet as he attempts to press the right treadles to correctly manipulate the warp. James has now oscillated completely from one pole of bad pedagogy to the other, and is so focused on monitoring the goings-on of Cyprian’s loom that Cyprian wonders how he is managing his own. “Wrong treadle—no, wrong treadle again, it’s the next one—no, you skip that treadle on this row—don’t yank the beater that hard, you’ll wind up with uneven weft tension in the cloth.”

On James’s loom, Cyprian can see the beginning of the weave the Stewards use for most of their clothes, the pattern that gives the cloth its remarkable strength and lightness taking shape into the familiar swirls that make a half-imagined floral motif.

It’s there on Cyprian’s loom too, but with all the going back and reweaving rows he’s been having to do, he’s made less than half the progress James has. 

With what little of his brain isn’t occupied in the ever-changing dance of the loom, Cyprian thinks wistfully about killing him. 

It doesn’t help. He can feel his attention slipping, can tell that his anger and self-consciousness is only making him make more mistakes

"Of course you would expect yourself to do this easily on your first try," James says. "This is an incredibly complex pattern that typically takes dedicated weavers days to learn and weeks to master, and you, not a weaving janissary but a Steward, think you ought to perfect it your first afternoon. Cyprian the Perfect Novitiate."

"Like you were any different!" Cyprian says. "Always sneaking around at night to practice sword drills when you were meant to be sleeping." 

"Yes, I suppose there's some family resemblance after all. Or at least—Father had very specific expectations of a child, didn't he. I suppose he fared better in having them met with the sons he hand-picked."

"Don't you talk about him!" Cyprian says, starting back violently, overturning his chair. "You don't get to talk about him like that—you don't get to talk about him at all."

For a while, there is silence interrupted only by the clacking of the looms. Cyprian rights his chair, sits down at his loom again. James is staring straight ahead, the shuttle on his loom moving but his hands held still in his lap. Cyprian watches the mistakes on his own loom accumulate without correction.  

"It's just. He's gone. They're all gone. And—do you believe in life after death?"

"What?"

"It's just—what if there isn't? What if they're gone, not just from this world, not just dead, but what if there's nothing afterwards?"

"There's something," James says, not as a man speaking of philosophy or of religious belief but with the simple assurance he had used in setting up the looms. 

Cyprian draws in a shuddering breath. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm here, aren't I? Anharion reborn. I died a thousand years ago, and now I'm back, and you have to deal with me. I must've been somewhere in the meantime." 

Or at least, there must be such a thing as a soul. Anharion's body, crumbled to dust for centuries. His magic, his personality, even his face returned to the world. 

Silence again. And then—"Father would be proud of you, you know," James says, the words sounding like they're costing him something. "How you're working to preserve the Steward legacy. Not just their warrior tradition but all their arts and—"

"Stop," Cyprian says sharply, and for once James does. 

He says, after a time, “You never actually betrayed the Light. Well. Not you-you. You did. But old-you, Anharion, never did.”

James shrugs. “Probably.”

“Do you think if the Stewards had known, they would have let you stay?”

“Do you? Does it make you feel better, to think so?”

Cyprian doesn’t answer. 

“It was easier, once I learned about the Cup. The Shadows. The Stewards were—remarkably egalitarian in their scorched-earth approach to evil. They would not have asked of me anything they did not expect of themselves.”

“I suppose,” Cyprian says slowly, “but the difference is, they trusted themselves to fight against the evil within. They built their whole way of life around it. They did not trust you to do the same, not you or Violet.”

“No. They didn’t.”

More silence. Cyprian feels the weight of everything he doesn’t know, about his father and about James, about what happened to James with the Stewards and what happened to him afterwards. 

Weeks ago, he had, in response to one of James’s disdainful sneers at the mention of Cyprian’s—their—father, said, “Oh, come on, you know whatever he did wasn’t that bad, really.” Their father was strict, certainly. Had exacting standards. Could be harsh, cold even, in his efforts to make his children live up to those standards. But the look James had given him in response was enough to chill Cyprian’s blood.

Whatever he did to you, you deserved it, Cyprian had wanted to say, back then and on many occasions before and since. James is Anharion, is pure evil given physical form. Whatever happened to him, he must have deserved it. 

He’s never said it, because he knows true as breathing that if he does, James will say, And the things he did to you?  Did you deserve them?

Cyprian’s weaving has, mistake by mistake, moved stepwise so far from the original pattern as to be unrecognizable. It really is a terribly complicated process, and Cyprian wonders aimlessly why James so easily let Cyprian convince him to skip to the highest level of complexity rather than begin with something simpler and work their way up. Probably to make Cyprian feel clumsy and wrongfooted in contrast to James’s own mastery. Arrogance to expect to master it at once, he’d said, but James had no more been a weaving janissary than Cyprian had, and he’d have had no practice since the age of eleven. 

Cyprian steals another glance at James’s growing cloth, its flawless pattern of ferns and flowers visible when the light hits it just right. James’s face has grown peaceful, soothed perhaps by the clack of the looms, the repetitive movements of the shuttle. Cyprian wonders how it is that James remembers the intricacies of Steward weaving years later. Has held onto this simple, prosaic piece of their culture, even after he had declared himself the enemy of the Stewards and dedicated himself to their destruction. 

He wonders if it was really the Stewards James had hated. 

It is suddenly, violently important to Cyprian that he know what, exactly, happened between their father and James. 

“Why do you hate him so much? My—our—father.” 

James’s face does something odd. It is, for lack of a better word, a smile. He says, “Why don’t you?”

And what kind of question is that? He’s Cyprian’s father. He wasn’t—it wasn’t like he’d—he’d never—

The not-smile on James’s face changes, becomes smaller, more private. “He picked a good replacement, I guess. Not only exceptionally talented, but unendingly dutiful. Loyal. Selfless.” 

It’s everything Cyprian strove to be, growing up, and in James’s voice now it sounds like the vilest of insults. (It sounds almost pitying, and Cyprian doesn’t allow himself to consider that that might not be by accident.)

“Fuck you,” he says, and throws a spool of thread at James’s head. 

James knocks it off course without visibly moving or looking at it, which makes Cyprian even angrier. He wants to throw more spools at James’s head until one makes contact. He wants to overturn his loom, throw his chair, kick over the basket of spools. Rip the messy fabric from his loom and the perfect fabric from James’s and tear them both to shreds, leave the room a mess littered with unsalvageable debris. 

(Leave it like the rooms lower in the keep, unusable now, destroyed in the attack and plundered for fuel for the funeral pyres. He swallows bile.)

He is the guardian of his culture. He and Grace and Sarah have worked so hard and long to preserve it. Preserving it means preserving these looms and this thread. It means not alienating anyone with knowledge of their ways, even when that anyone is stupid, smirking James. 

Cyprian draws a deep breath. Lets it out. Does it again. “Thank you for the lesson, James. I apologize for losing my temper. Perhaps we could return to this tomorrow?”

It’s not a good apology, or an apology at all, but James, Cyprian knows, will probably keep coming back as long as Cyprian is willing to admit that he needs James’s help with something. 

Sure enough, James snorts, and the look on his face is now irony tinged with amusement. “Works for me, little brother.” 

“Do not call—” Cyprian gets out before he remembers he is trying to avoid antagonizing James, and also realizes that he is definitely being baited.

“Stepbrother, then?” The drawl is back. “No, that implies remarriage. Foster brother?”

“I’m leaving,” Cyprian says, and pushes open the door to the stairwell.

“Adoptive brother? You’re definitely younger than me, I’m thousands of years old.” 

“Goodbye,” Cyprian calls, already several turns of the staircase down but not, unfortunately, out of earshot. They are not brothers, not of any variety and no matter how you qualify it. They might have the same father, but it’s not like he was ever raising them at the same time. Having been raised by the same man does not mean they are family, does not give them anything else in common, does not make them alike. 

Why don’t you? James had said. Selfless, James had called him, and meant it as a trait to be pitied. 

He’s not going to think about this. He’s not. 

That night when the others are sleeping, Cyprian sneaks up to the loom room to practice before his lesson the next day, and he tries not to think of a younger, fairer boy, (definitely not his brother), doing the same thing in sleepless nights long ago. 

[siglafurnitures]

The Timeless Elegance of 17th Century Tuscan Armchairs: A Glimpse into Renaissance Opulence

The 17th century Tuscan armchair stands as a testament to the rich history of Italian furniture craftsmanship and design. Born in the heart of Tuscany during a period marked by cultural and artistic flourishing, these chairs embody the elegance and sophistication of the Renaissance era.

Crafted with meticulous attention to detail, the Tuscan armchair of the 17th century reflects the prevailing artistic and architectural styles of the time. Influenced by the Renaissance, which had its origins in Italy during the 14th century, the 17th century saw a continuation and refinement of these artistic principles. Tuscan furniture makers drew inspiration from classical Roman and Greek designs, incorporating elements such as ornate carvings, graceful curves, and a harmonious balance of form and function.

One of the distinctive features of the 17th century Tuscan armchair is its solid and sturdy construction. Crafted from robust hardwoods such as oak or walnut, these chairs were built to endure the test of time. The frame often featured intricately carved details, showcasing the skill of the artisans who meticulously shaped the wood into elaborate patterns and motifs. The legs were typically thick and robust, providing stability and support.

The backrest of the Tuscan armchair was a canvas for artistic expression, adorned with intricate carvings that ranged from floral motifs to mythological scenes. These carvings not only added aesthetic appeal but also conveyed the cultural and intellectual currents of the time. The arms of the chair, as the name suggests, were designed to provide comfort and support, often featuring scrolls or gentle curves that added to the overall grace of the piece.

The upholstery of the 17th century Tuscan armchair was another element that showcased the luxurious tastes of the period. Rich fabrics such as velvet and damask were commonly used, and the upholstery was often embellished with elaborate embroidery or tufting. The choice of fabric and embellishments reflected the social status of the owner, with more opulent materials reserved for the nobility and aristocracy.

Functionality was not sacrificed for the sake of aesthetics in the design of the Tuscan armchair. While the chair exuded an air of grandeur and sophistication, it was also created with comfort in mind. The seat was often generously padded, providing a luxurious and inviting place to rest. The ergonomic design of the chair allowed for prolonged use without sacrificing comfort, making it a functional piece of furniture for both formal and informal settings.

The 17th century Tuscan armchair was not merely a piece of furniture; it was a symbol of status and cultural refinement. In a society where appearances and symbols of wealth held great significance, owning a well-crafted Tuscan armchair was a statement of one's taste and social standing. These chairs were often found in the homes of the elite, gracing the halls of palaces and the drawing rooms of the upper class.

Today, the legacy of the 17th century Tuscan armchair lives on in the world of interior design and antique collecting. While original pieces from this period are rare and highly sought after by collectors, modern reproductions pay homage to the timeless elegance and craftsmanship of the original design. The enduring appeal of the Tuscan armchair lies in its ability to seamlessly blend the opulence of the past with the demands of contemporary living spaces.

The 17th century Tuscan armchair stands as a masterpiece of Italian furniture design, capturing the essence of the Renaissance era. Its solid construction, intricate carvings, and luxurious upholstery reflect the craftsmanship and artistic sensibilities of the time. As a symbol of status and cultural refinement, the Tuscan armchair has left an indelible mark on the history of furniture design and continues to inspire and captivate admirers to this day.

[chocolatepot]

And a second ficlet for @ofmdjanuaury, for the prompt "library". I actually started working out a whole modern AU backstory for how Stede got an MLIS degree and then I went, "Actually, I don't care! 1717!Stede (English flavor) opens a lending library, GO."

---

Stede always opened the library himself in the morning, his assistant, Lucius, being unwilling to come in before ten. “Opening” only consisted of flipping the placard in the window from CLOSED to OPEN, but he did it with a flourish and it gave him a thrill each time. Sometimes he would run a cloth over the windowsills and the fronts of the shelves, for the feel of housekeeping, although it generally just seemed to smear the dust about. So far Bonnet’s Library had yet to see a customer, but it wouldn’t do for the place to look derelict once one came in.

He’d just pulled a copy of Tamburlaine off the shelf and settled into one of the armchairs to read the scenes showing the bandit’s rise to power when the door creaked open. “Lucius!” he called out without looking up. “You’re rather early.”

“Yeah, not Lucius, mate,” came an amused voice from the other side of the room, and Stede stared at the fireplace ahead of him in embarrassed shock. Finally he jumped up, dropping the book on the seat beneath him, and turned to take in the most extraordinary man, one with flowing locks and a curled beard, entirely dressed in black.

“I’m so sorry,” he babbled, “thought you were the boy, you know how it is. Welcome to the library!”

The stranger stepped further inside, strolling around the edge of the room with one hand stroking his beard. It was difficult to make out his expression under all of the facial hair, but he seemed … friendly?

“I’d heard that a gentleman opened a bookstore in Whitechapel, but I didn’t believe it.”

“Ah, well,” Stede said, “this is actually a lending library, not a bookstore. The books are free to all readers.”

“A lending library.” There was, he thought, more than a tinge of disbelief in the man’s voice. “And look at this – chandeliers. Turkish carpets. Silk covered furniture!” He’d walked close enough that only the chair separated the two of them, and his fingers traced a damasked pattern on the upholstery. Stede braced himself for the inevitable criticisms he’d heard from the Mayfair set, but instead the man dropped into the other armchair with a grin. “You’re a fucking lunatic, and I like it.”

[aldiraweavetech]

Jacquard Loom Machine - 3 Fabrics & Its Importance In Various Industries

What is a Jacquard Loom Machine?

The Jacquard Loom Machine is a device fitted to a loom that simplifies the process of manufacturing textiles with such complex patterns as brocade, damask, and matelasse. It is known as one of the most advanced weaving machines around the globe.

A jacquard textile machine is used to weave the type of fabric known as a Jacquard. They were created in 1804 by the french engineer and silk manufacturer Joseph Marie Jacquard. It is capable of producing complex patterns on fabric through the use of punched cards. Plain, satin, velvet, and lace are the fabrics that were woven with the jacquard textile machine. There is an increase in the application of this technology in recent decades.

Let’s discuss the fabrics and how jacquard loom machines are used in various industries.

Brocade:

Brocade is a class of richly decorative subtle-woven fabrics, often made in colored silks and sometimes with gold and silver threads. One of the most popular machines used for weaving brocades is the computer jacquard machine. Brocade has patterns that can be woven right into the fabric as opposed to embroidered fabrics. It is additionally known as embossed cloth. Earlier, brocade was formerly used for decorative clothing, although now, it is used widely.

Where is the Brocade fabric used?

Homeware: Curtains and heavy silk drapes

Accessories: Tie, pocket squares, pillows

Furniture: Ornamental Chairs with brocade cushions and sofas with brocade patterns

Damask:

Damask is a type of fabric characterized by its flat and reversible pattern. It is typically made of silk, cotton, or synthetic fibers and is often used for table linens, upholstery, and clothing. The pattern is created by weaving the warp and weft threads of different colors in a specific manner to create a reversible design. The name “damask” originates from the city of Damascus in Syria, where the fabric was first produced.

Where are Damask fabrics used?

Apparels:

Damask is essentially used for evening wear, jackets, and other stuff clothing items that are meant to be somewhat weather-resistant.

Accessories:

Scarves, handbags, and luggage are some of the common uses of damask in everyday wear.

Decor:

Damask is regularly used in upholstery for home decor. Damask can sometimes be seen on light rugs as well.

Additionally, Damask is used in a wide variety of products, including wallpapers and suitcases, including fabrics with a damask-inspired pattern. Other frequent plastic accessories with damask designs include glass cases, laptop cases, phone cases, and many other plastic accessories.

Matelasse Fabric Matelasse is a type of fabric with a raised, quilted surface resembling a woven basket. The word "matelasse" comes from the French term for "quilted." It is usually made of cotton or silk and is often used for bedspreads, curtains, and upholstery. Matelasse fabric is characterized by its intricate patterns and soft, plush feel.  An interesting fact is that in the sewing industry, a “figured fabric” is an example of what is known as a Matelasse Fabric. This fabric has a complicated weave structure. It is manufactured using cotton, silk, or rayon. The fabric has a flexible surface with a quilted appearance, additionally, the fabric is opaque in appearance.

Where is Matelasse Fabric used?

Home Furnishing:

Curtains, bedsheets, pillowcases, bed skirts, cushion covers, etc.

Computerized Jacquard Loom is the best fabric weaver as it can carry out any weave pattern and produce endless fabrics. It started the manufacturing and consumerism industrial revolutions. Due to the demand for simple, minimal, and adaptable fabrics, there is a considerable increase in favor of industrial looms among designers and apparel firms.

Alidhra Weavetech is one of the most known and famous for being armed with innovative and cost-effective weaving and twisting machinery, as well as Jacquard machine solutions in the world. Weavetech is known for its innovation, creativity, excellence, and integrity.

 If you are looking for a textile manufacturing machinery industry in India, look no further and give us a call and Contact us today.

Original Source: https://weavetech.com/blog-detail/30/jacquard-loom-machine---3-fabrics-its-importa/

[vicshush]

[ID: Art of Sophie and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle. Sophie is a pale, freckle-faced, gingery blonde and Howl is a warmer skin-toned platinum blonde. Sophie's hair is up in a loose bun with a braid and wavy tendrils falling around her face. She is wearing a light olive gown with a dark sheer partial overdress that trails from the bodice and elaborate but short open-shoulder sleeves in the same material. She is holding a closed gold-colored fan and is wearing small gold earrings and a gold necklace with a starburst diamond pendant. Sophie sits (body three-quarters turned toward the viewer, head in profile) on a couch or chair with her hands stacked in her lap, the fan dangling from them. She is leaning slightly forward with her face tipped toward Howl, her eyebrow raised, eye half-lidded and a smile tucked into the corners of her lips as she speaks. Howl has one hand braced on an adjacent wall and is bent over Sophie, head close to hers, his other hand on his hip and his right ankle crossed over his left. He is wearing a white suit with gold buttons at the cuffs, a white shirt, a gold-lined black jabot (?), a black and gold pocket square, at least one long turquoise and gold earring, slim gold bracelets, and black shoes. The long-tailed jacket of his suit has an interior lining that is gold-on-black lines and dots arranged in a grid pattern. The lining can be seen on the jacket tails as well as where Howl's jacket hangs open as he leans down. His at least chin-length hair is tucked behind his visible ear, but a wavy hank hangs by his face, which is turned down toward Sophie's. We can't see his face as well as hers, but there is also a hint of a smile. The two characters have all the color in the illustration -- the background is done in cream and black, giving the impression of a fancy manor house from the plush cushions behind Sophie to the candle-scone-bracketed mirror with a thick, round, ornate frame and lightly sketched damask wallpaper. There are additional touches of the world/country Howell Jenkins and Benjamin Sullivan come from (Wales) in the decor, as well -- a pennant that reads "Oxford" and a framed ABBA poster hang on the wall behind Howl. /end ID]

Benjamin Sullivan, the honorable and somewhat mysterious court magician was married last Saturday to Lettie Hatter, formerly of Market Chipping. The other court magician was also there, presumably as a guest of the matron of honor, Sophie Pendragon nee Hatter, the bride's sister. They seemed wrapped up in some sort of disagreement for most of the ceremony though.

[oscarfurniture]

Wingback Chair: A Timeless Piece of Furniture for Comfort and Style

The wingback chair has a long-standing legacy as one of the most iconic pieces of furniture in history. Often seen as a symbol of elegance, comfort, and tradition, the wingback chair has evolved over centuries, retaining its classical charm while being adapted to modern styles. This article will take you through the fascinating history, design elements, different types, materials, and why the wingback chair remains such a beloved piece in contemporary homes.

1. History of the Wingback Chair: From Royalty to Everyday Homes

The wingback chair dates back to the 17th century, originally designed in England during the reign of King Charles II. The distinctive "wings" of the chair, designed to protect the sitter from drafts in large, cold rooms, gave it both its name and its primary function. Homes and castles at that time relied on large fireplaces for warmth, and the wingback chair’s design helped direct heat towards the person seated, keeping them cozy.

By the 18th century, the wingback chair had become a staple of the upper-class home, particularly in libraries and sitting rooms. It was favored for its high back, deep seat, and enveloping wings, which provided privacy and comfort, especially when placed near a fireplace. Initially crafted with wooden frames and simple upholstery, wingback chairs began to feature more ornate detailing as they became status symbols among the aristocracy. Chairs were often upholstered in luxurious fabrics like velvet and leather and adorned with intricate carvings and patterns.

As time passed, the wingback chair became more accessible and started appearing in homes of varying styles. Its adaptability to different upholstery fabrics, wood types, and design elements made it a versatile addition to any room, whether traditional or modern.

2. The Iconic Design: What Defines a Wingback Chair?

The defining feature of a wingback chair is, of course, its wings. These wings are usually attached to the backrest and extend downward towards the armrests. They serve both functional and aesthetic purposes:

Protection: Historically, the wings protected the sitter from drafts and channeled heat from a nearby fireplace.

Comfort: The high back and the wings make the chair feel like a cozy cocoon, offering both physical and psychological comfort.

Aesthetic Appeal: The wings create a dramatic silhouette that adds a sense of grandeur to any room.

Other notable features of a wingback chair include:

High Back: The tall backrest provides excellent support, especially for reading or relaxing.

Deep Seat: Wingback chairs often have a wide and deep seat, allowing for long hours of comfortable sitting.

Upholstered Frame: Most wingback chairs are fully upholstered, adding an extra layer of comfort. The type of fabric used can greatly affect the style and overall look of the chair.

Wooden Legs: Many wingback chairs feature exposed wooden legs, which may be straight or cabriole, depending on the design.

Though the traditional wingback chair typically has a formal appearance, modern interpretations have allowed for more playful variations, from minimalistic to eclectic designs.

3. Types of Wingback Chairs: Classic to Contemporary Variations

While the general structure of a wingback chair remains consistent, there are several different styles and variations that cater to diverse tastes and home aesthetics. Here are the main types of wingback chairs:

a. Traditional Wingback Chair

The traditional wingback chair is what most people picture when they think of this classic piece. It has a stately appearance with high arms, rounded wings, and often features cabriole legs or ornate carvings. These chairs are typically upholstered in rich fabrics like leather, velvet, or damask, and they are commonly seen in libraries, formal sitting rooms, and vintage-inspired interiors.

b. Modern Wingback Chair

Modern interpretations of the wingback chair strip down some of the ornate details in favor of a sleeker, more streamlined design. These chairs may feature angular wings, simple lines, and minimalist upholstery in neutral colors. Modern wingback chairs can easily blend into contemporary spaces, offering the same comfort without the heaviness of a traditional style.

c. Barrel Wingback Chair

The barrel wingback chair features a more rounded back, creating a barrel-like shape. The wings are usually softer and less pronounced, offering a more casual yet still comfortable seating experience. These chairs are popular in eclectic or transitional spaces that combine traditional and contemporary elements.

d. High-Back Wingback Chair

As the name suggests, the high-back wingback chair emphasizes an extra-tall backrest, which extends far above the head. These chairs exude a regal and dramatic presence, perfect for formal or high-ceilinged rooms. The high-back design also makes these chairs particularly good for creating a focal point in a space.

e. Tufted Wingback Chair

Tufting refers to the buttoned upholstery style that creates a diamond-shaped pattern across the backrest. Tufted wingback chairs are incredibly popular in traditional and contemporary settings, with the tufting adding texture and visual interest to the chair. The tufting can be deep and plush for a luxurious feel, or more subtle for a modern take on the style.

f. Leather Wingback Chair

Leather adds an extra level of sophistication and durability to the wingback chair. Leather wingback chairs are often associated with luxury, making them a staple in executive offices, formal living rooms, or gentlemen’s clubs. The leather ages beautifully over time, developing a rich patina that only enhances its charm.

4. Materials Used in Wingback Chairs

The material choice for a wingback chair plays a huge role in its aesthetic, comfort, and durability. Let’s explore the common materials used in crafting these chairs:

a. Frame Material

Wood: The frame of most wingback chairs is traditionally made of solid wood, ensuring a sturdy structure that can last for generations. Hardwood varieties like oak, walnut, or mahogany are often used in high-end models.

Metal: In more modern designs, metal frames may be used to create a sleek, industrial look, although wood remains the most popular choice for wingback chairs.

b. Upholstery Fabric

Leather: As previously mentioned, leather is a popular material for wingback chairs due to its durability and luxurious look. It works well in both classic and modern designs and is relatively easy to clean.

Velvet: Velvet gives the chair a rich, plush texture, making it ideal for a luxurious, glamorous setting. Velvet wingback chairs are common in formal living rooms or bedrooms.

Linen: For a more casual or contemporary feel, linen upholstery is often used. Linen is light, breathable, and offers a natural look that complements a wide range of decor styles.

Cotton: Cotton is a versatile and cost-effective fabric choice. It can be found in various colors and patterns, making it easy to match with different interior designs.

Synthetic Fabrics: Modern synthetic fabrics like microfiber or polyester are also used for their durability and resistance to stains, making them ideal for families with children or pets.

c. Cushion Fillings

Foam: High-density foam is often used to ensure the cushion retains its shape over time, offering both firmness and comfort.

Down: Feather or down-filled cushions provide a soft, plush experience, though they may require regular fluffing to maintain their shape.

5. How to Incorporate a Wingback Chair into Your Home Décor

Wingback chairs are versatile pieces that can suit various spaces and styles, depending on the fabric, color, and design. Here are a few ideas for incorporating a wingback chair into your home:

a. Living Room Accent Chair

A wingback chair can serve as a stunning accent piece in the living room, especially if you opt for a bold color or pattern. Place it near a window or a fireplace to create a cozy reading nook. A pair of matching wingback chairs on either side of a coffee table or couch can also add symmetry and balance to the room.

b. Bedroom Corner Chair

In a bedroom, a wingback chair can add an element of sophistication and provide a relaxing spot for reading or simply unwinding at the end of the day. Pair it with a small ottoman for a cozy, functional corner.

c. Home Office

A leather or tufted wingback chair can serve as a statement piece in a home office or study. Not only does it add elegance, but it’s also a comfortable seating option for long hours spent working or reading.

d. Dining Room

Though less common, wingback chairs can be used as head chairs at a formal dining table, adding an air of luxury and grandeur to the space. This works particularly well in traditional or eclectic dining rooms.

e. Entryway or Hallway

A wingback chair can also serve as a stylish addition to an entryway or hallway. Paired with a small table, lamp, or mirror, it can create a welcoming and functional space for guests.

6. Choosing the Right Wingback Chair: What to Consider

When shopping for a wingback chair, here are some key factors to consider:

Style: Consider the overall decor of the room where the chair will be placed. Is it traditional, modern, or eclectic? Choose a wingback chair that complements the space’s design.

Size: Wingback chairs can be quite large, so make sure you measure the available space to ensure the chair fits comfortably.

Comfort: Sit in the chair before purchasing to make sure it's comfortable for you. Some chairs have a firmer seat, while others may be softer and more cushioned.

Material: Think about the room’s usage and who will be using the chair. For high-traffic areas, a more durable fabric like leather or a synthetic blend might be a better choice. In a more formal or decorative room, fabrics like velvet or linen can create a luxurious effect.

7. Why the Wingback Chair Continues to Endure

The wingback chair’s appeal lies in its timeless combination of form and function. It’s a piece of furniture that offers both comfort and style, making it a versatile addition to any home. Its classic design allows it to blend seamlessly into traditional interiors, while modern iterations ensure it remains relevant in contemporary spaces.

In an era where furniture is often mass-produced and disposable, the wingback chair represents quality craftsmanship and enduring design. Whether you choose a vintage leather wingback or a minimalist modern version, this chair will always bring a sense of elegance and sophistication to your home.

The wingback chair is more than just a seat—it's a statement. From its origins in drafty English manors to its place in today's homes, it continues to symbolize warmth, comfort, and style, making it a cherished piece of furniture for generations to come.