#maitresse en titre

[racefortheironthrone]

did the madam mistresse- the ones with the title gifted by the king- of French court have her own ladies? Separate to the queen

If you're referring to the maitresse-en-titre, I don't think so. Quite often, she was one of the Queen's ladies-in-waiting.

But I would ask @goodqueenaly for more on this.

[sweetbitterbitten]

"well...?" slides the well-oiled ask of the sovereign's sole official mistress, as playing cards face down to a mahogany desk; a game of shared exchange between mutually ranked, high-stakes gamblers. twin and finely attuned gazes clipped in quick succession to the subject of current discussion. "what should we call this one?" supposing of course, the sweet thing survived out the week in one piece.

unasked for starter for @threecardtrick

[sweetbitterbitten]

the ground is warming earlier than expected this year. a promising onset of spring that sent the king off stag hunting - whilst leaving his beloved blanket bound, to delight in the catered gardenside buffet with his first minister of state as stand in guard.

this sort of weather so often wrung hypothetical or philosophical wine into the courts' cups, it is little wonder the two should indulge in it. "i imagine whoever manages B O T H would rightfully wear t h a t badge."

❛ they die for love, you kill for it. ❜ Anne Boleyn from sweetbitterbitten

"so then who is the t r u e romantic?"

[jananabananawithnopeel]

Un truc qui me fusille a chaque fois dans le final du livre 3 quand Guenièvre surprend Arthur et Mevanwi , c'est qu'elle s'en fout qu'Arthur soit avec une femme. Au contraire ça a l'air de presque être un jeu pour elle de savoir avec laquelle de ses maîtresses il est ou si c'est une nouvelle fille. Elle a tellement l'habitude et c'est devenu tellement anodin qu'elle s'approche gaiement avec un sourire.

C'est pas le fait que se soit son ami Mevanwi le probleme, c'est une femme comme les autres et la seule particularité qu'elle à c'est d'etre celle d'un chevalier. C'est pas qu'il la trompe non plus, Guenièvre s'est probablement fait une raison depuis le temps.

Les maitresses, ca va, ca vient. Guenievre accepte tout les caprices d'Arthur dignement, surtout qu'elle n'a pas le choix. Parce qu'au final, tout le monde sait qu'Arthur a des maitresses mais Arthur n'a qu'une seule femme* et il n'y a qu'une seule reine de Bretagne, Guenièvre. Si il avait voulu la remplacer par une autre, il l'aurait fait y'a un moment. Guenièvre n'est pas de nature jalouse non plus, c'est peut-être de la naîveté ou peut-être qu'elle a juste assez confiance en elle et en Arthur pour ne pas l'être ?

(* D'ailleurs si on y reflechis, Arthur est obligé de penser comme ca. La chose qui a le plus de valeur pour lui c'est sa promesse. Et la seule chose qui le lie toujours à Aconia, c'est son mariage. Si il désacralise son mariage avec Guenièvre, ca veut dire qu'il doit renier la conception du mariage ce qu'il ne peut pas faire puisque ca voudrait dire renier son mariage avec Aconia. Donc il est très important pour lui que Guenièvre reste 'sa femme' même si c'est un titre vide parce que quoi qu'il arrive, son mariage ne doit pas échouer.)

Quoi qu'il en soit, Arthur peut avoir toutes les femmes qu'il veut sauf celle d'un chevalier. C'est la seule règle importante. C'est la seule chose qui fait affront aux dieux (ca et morseler la terre de Logres).

En brisant cette lois, il se met en danger vis à vis des Dieux mais pas il n'est pas le seul. Guenievre n'a pas de poid ni les decisions d'Arthur ni dans celles des Dieux. Si Arthur faute, si il est puni, elle le sera aussi (directement ou indirectement, comme Viviane) parce qu'aux yeux du peuple et des dieux, elle n'existe qu'à travers son mariage avec Arthur : elle aussi n'est qu'une femme comme les autres.

Donc en plus de dire merde aux dieux et de la couvrir de honte, il menace aussi sa place de reine (elle s'en fout un peu imo), l'équilibre de son royaume, sa propre vie et l'idée d'une fin heureuse. C'est lui l'Elu. Si l'élu et les dieux se tournent le dos, si même lui : le plus a même de les mener abandonne, c'est forcément que personne n'a aucune chance. Alors quelle espoir pour le reste des hommes ?

(On en parle aussi du parrallele entre Lancelot et Arthur ou Lancelot est le premier a abandonner et Bohort lui dit 'Vous etes en train de detruire l'empire breton' en sachant que Lancelot n'en a pas le pouvoir mais qu'Arthur si)

[diaryrh]

Нелегкая судьба любовницы короля

  В то время как принцесс воспитывали быть порядочными и послушными, любовниц королей воспитывали совершенно по-другому. Потворствуя могущественным мужчинам, которые привыкли к тому, что их эго и нижние области регулярно тешат, любовница короля делала для них свою работу. Если проституция действительно была древнейшей профессией в истории, то положения главной любовницы монарха или maitresse-en-titre, несомненно, должно было быть вторым. Поскольку король мог весело поднять юбки практически любой женщины (или мужчины) при дворе, женщина, привлекшая его внимание, должна была обладать не только красотой. Ей нужны были обаяние, остроумие, ум, грация и способность предвидеть, что ее ждет.     В отличие от королевы, чье положение было высечено в камне, мир любовницы был сделан из более хрупкого материала. И, учитывая великолепие ее положения, они делали очень многое, чтобы удержать блестящий приз внимания короля.  

Мадам де Помпадур

  Когда разговор заходит о maitresse-en-titre, не было никого более выдающегося, чем мадам де Помпадур. Главная фаворитка Людовика XV во Франции с 1745 по 1751 год. Она была прекрасным примером женщины, которая неуклонно страдала от различных неприятностей своей роли. Всячески потворствуя своему импульсивному любовнику и приспосабливая само свое существование к тому, чтобы обеспечить ему удовольствие. Наедине она часто заявляла, что король ее "слишком" использовал. Людовик, у которого был ненасытный сексуальный аппетит. Надеясь стимулировать собственное либидо, чтобы соответствовать энергичному королю, она начала придерживаться специальной диеты. Состоящей из сельдерея, трюфелей и ванили, от которых ей становилось только хуже.     В отличие от многих других любовниц, которые были отвергнуты, де Помпадур смогла превратить свои отношения с Людовиком XV в отношения дружбы и глубокого доверия. Она делала Луи счастливым. Она стала изучать его настроение и могла читать каждое выражение его лица, включая интонацию его слов. И самое главное, она знала, когда он прячет гнев или разочарование за своей маской царственного спокойствия. Ее знания выходили за рамки простой беседы в постели. Она ценила архитектуру, разбиралась в ботанике и садах Версаля. И даже пробовала себя в огранке драгоценных камней. Мадам де Помпадур знала, как важно держать короля постоянно занятым. Поскольку скука была оружием дьявола.     Ее роль должна была быть потрясающей, любой ценой, и она справлялась с этим хорошо. Она не могла показать усталость, болезнь, гнев или скуку. Когда ее маленькая 10-летняя дочь и ее отец умерли в течение одной недели, она не позволила себе показать боль или скорбь. Те, кто наблюдал за ней, говорили, что она "по всей вероятности была так же несчастна внутри, как и казалась счастливой снаружи".  

Мадам дю Барри

  Несмотря на свой гламур и роскошь, французские куртизанки на удивление пренебрежительно относились к уходу за собой. Часто неделями не купаясь. Многие придворные женщины страдали от шрамов от оспы и покрывали свою изуродованную кожу и грязь обилием бархата, кружев и сильных духов. Их богато украшенные наряды часто становились дико зудящими и неудобными.     Но одна любовница, мадам дю Барри, которая последовала за Помпадур после ее смерти, в качестве фаворитки Людовика XV, была известна своим необычным для того времени вниманием к гигиене. То, что большинство женщин короля всегда упускало из виду. Она ежедневно принимала ванну с ароматом роз, и наряжалась в возмутительно дорогие платья из прекрасного белого шелка. Чтобы подчеркнуть свою белую шею.  

Диана де Пуатье

  В 1542 году Диана де Пуатье, которая была главной любовницей Генриха II, часто думала о том, как сохранить себя "в форме для короля". Как физически, так и интеллектуально. Конкуренция за высшую привлекательность при французском дворе была парализующей. И любая женщина, надеявшаяся очаровать короля, должна была иметь секрет красоты.     Каждое утро Диана совершала бодрящую трехчасовую прогулку верхом на лошади. Надевая при этом черную бархатную маску, защищавшую ее молочно-белый цвет лица. Она ежедневно пила смесь, содержащую золото, и купалась в ослином молоке и холодной воде. Чтобы сохранить кожу мягкой и эластичной. Боясь появления морщин, она спала сидя на шелковых подушках, не позволяя лицу касаться простыней. И это сработало - король проводил с ней каждую ночь, не желая посещать опочивальню своей жены Екатерины Медичи. Екатерина была настолько озадачена пылкой страстью этой пары, что просверлила два отверстия в полу над спальней Дианы. Чтобы наблюдать, как именно они занимаются любовью.  

Лола Монтес

  Черноволосая актриса была известна своими связями с королем Баварии Людвигом в середине 19 века. И то, как она использовала эти отношения для проведения реформ перед революцией 1848 года.     Она была ирландской танцовщицей и актрисой. Которая считала короля (который был на 34 года старше ее) совсем не привлекательным. Но его богатство и влияние были чрезвычайно привлекательны. Людвиг фетишизировал ноги танцовщицы и часто писал ей письма о своем желании лизать ее ноги. В то время как большинство женщин оттолкнуло бы это странное желание. Но она была благодарна за его озабоченность ее ногами, учитывая отсутствие физического влечения к нему. Ей удавалось удовлетворить его без особых физических усилий. Всякий раз, когда он действительно чувствовал потребность в большем, она часто оправдывалась болезнью или менструацией.  

Мария Валевска

    Влиятельные мужчины никогда не позволяли таким мелочам, как женитьба или даже политика, мешать их делам. И часто заводили любовниц, у которых уже были мужья. В случае с Наполеоном Бонапартом его любовница, Мария Валевская, в конце концов согласилась на его ухаживания. Потому что этого потребовал ее муж, который был на целых 58 лет старше ее. Она была патриотичной молодой женщиной из Польши, которая поддалась Наполеону. Когда поняла, что могущественный монарх в силах избавить ее Родину от оккупации. И воссоздаст суверенную Польшу. В буквальном смысле, она сделала это для своей страны.  

Мадам де Монтеспан

    Одной из королевских любовниц, которая пошла на все, чтобы обратить на себя внимание Людовика XIV, была очаровательная и хитрая мадам де Монтеспан. Она страстно хотела заполучить его. Но у французского короля уже была любовница. В 1667 году, надеясь разорвать их отношения, будущая фаворитка отправилась за помощью к ведьме. Живя при дворе, де Монтеспан не упускала ни одной возможности, чтобы отобедать с королем. Подсыпая любовные зелья в его вино. И это сработало. В конце концов он глубоко влюбился в нее. И бросил свою тогда еще беременную любовницу Луизу де Лавальер. Поскольку французская еда была очень обильной, она порой исчезала из двора в монастырь. Где морила себя голодом, прежде чем вернуться, чтобы ошеломить короля своей новой стройной фигурой.  

Леди Каслмейн

    При французском дворе это всегда было ожидаемым. Однако английский двор в отношении богатства любовницы не был таким щедрым. В случае Карла II его слово было законом. Но его подарки любовнице, леди Каслмейн, часто блокировались чиновниками. По их словам, деньги налогоплательщика не помещались в подкладке белья хозяйки. Однако леди Каслмейн не была согласна с этим. И убедила Карла II не только дарить ей все подарки, которые он получал от придворных, но и позволять ей выбирать украшения в королевском Доме драгоценностей в Тауэре.  

В заключении

  Королевская любовница, в отличие от жены, могла быть уволена в любое время без каких-либо финансовых расчетов. Хотя она жила в роскоши в постели с королем, это могло измениться легко и неотвратимо.     Королевские любовницы были сделаны из необыкновенно прочного материала. Способного выдержать жгучее осуждение ревнивых и злобных языков морали. Они делали все, что угодно, лишь бы еще несколько мгновений оставаться в лучах королевского внимания. А остальное уже история.       Read the full article

[cinebib38]

Fête du court à Eybens avec l'IME

La classe antarctique avec la maitresse Delphine et une classe de pros avec leur maitresse Christelle ont participé au projet courts-métrages organisé par l’espace culturel de l’Odyssée à Eybens et accompagné par Nathalie la bibliothécaire. Au retour des vacances de Noël, pendant 5 mercredis matin, on est allé à la bibliothèque pour regarder plein de courts-métrages. Un court-métrage est un film de fiction ou un documentaire ou un dessin animé qui dure de 1 à plusieurs minutes mais qui fait moins d’1 heure.

L’objectif du projet est de choisir nous-même les courts-métrages que l’on a préférés pour organiser la programmation d’une séance

Le samedi 18 mars c’était le jour J. Il y avait pas mal de monde donc il y avait 2 salles de visionnage. Avant chaque court métrage, l’un d’entre le présentait en donnant le titre et en faisant un petit résumé.

Pour que ce soit une super séance la coop avait loué une machine à pop-corn. On a fait des petits cornets pour les distribuer au public.

Nathalie Adam bibliothécaire à EYBENS

[svnshone]

"Now you are coming to apologize?" The Dowager Queen's eyes narrowed at the French woman. "You sat eating cakes after your king left without warning." The journey through France had not been easy- with talks of illness, of unrest. It had left Dagmar even warier, as if she had not been on edge enough over the past several months.

Dagmar looked down to the baby as she stirred. "No, no, you're alright," she murmured in Danish to her daughter. Eyes returned to the Maitress-en-Titre as her hand returned to Anneliese's back, hoping to soothe her.

"Your people are struggling and suffering." The Magnussen's were long celebrated by their people; good rulers, strong rulers. "And it became a problem for all."

"I came to see how others are doing after the... journey through France. I take it that you are doing alright?" Lucille said, a bit of caution lining her voice.

She herself was a mother, she understood Dagmar's actions and certainly didn't fault them for protecting their child.

If Lucille was skilled with weaponry and if Laurie was that age again, she'd have done the exact same thing.

"I do apologize on behalf of France, for I do wish that part of the journey could have gone much smoother." Lucille said solemnly as she apologized with a bow of her head as a sign of respect.

[thetudorslovers]

Odette de Champdivers (also known as Oudine or Odinette; c. 1390 - c. 1425) was the chief mistress of Charles VI of France (the Mad). She was called la petite reine ("the little queen") by Charles and contemporaries.

According to Georges Bordonove, "Odette was the daughter of a maître d'hôtel of the King's Household, certain Guyot de Champdivers", who in fact was her brother. The messages of Père Anselme established her as a daughter of Odin or Oudin de Champdivers, who around 1387 was equerry stableman  at the court of King Charles VI.

Queen Isabeau, the victim of beatings and abuse from her violent, schizophrenichusband, allowed Odette to substitute for her without difficulty. By some accounts, she herself arranged for Odette to take her place in the mentally ill king's bed; by others it is believed that Duke John the Fearless offered the young Odette to the King, in order to ensure the influence of the Burgundian party.Odette and Charles VI had only one daughter together, called Marguerite, who was born by the end of 1407.

Called la petite reine – "the little queen" – by Charles's court, Odette was described as a lively, beautiful young woman with a gentle disposition. Apparently she loved and cared for her unhappy sovereign with the utmost patience and devotion. She is credited with introducing playing cards into France, "for the amusement of [Charles VI] during his paroxysms of insanity".

During the almost fifteen years of their relationship, the King gave Odette rich gifts as a reward for her dedication to him; she also received two fine manors in Créteil and Bagnolet  and the estate of Belleville in Poitou. Odette was at the King's side on his deathbed (21 October 1422); it is said that the last words of Charles VI were her name: "Odette, Odette". In 1423 Odette took refuge in Saint-Jean-de-Losne.

She disappears from records after 6 September 1424. There is some indication that she died in great poverty. She probably died in the Dauphinéin 1425, actually in poverty.A breed of French rose has been named for her.

[sweetbitterbitten]

“we're alone, you could kiss me.” (to anne boleyn - i had to)

she does not allow severity. she is a mistress, meant for merrymaking. and  P L A Y . performance only. if there is to be an element of drama, pray, be it put on -  to obscure any evidence. and give no undue offense. 

“you  D O  have the most overwhelming  U R G E  to damn yourself of any man i e’er did meet, master cromwell.” she touts, goodnaturedly, taking his arm in hers as they brave the seemingly barren halls. “tis a good thing the pope is a league away...and we are well aware even the  W A L L S  have ears and eyes with which to  S P Y .”

[247reader]

Day 11: Nell Gwyn

Seventeenth century Londoners were as fond of celebrity gossip as the rest of us, and one story spread like wildfire. A mob was following the carriage of one of Charles II’s hated foreign mistresses, growing restive. Mud and vegetables filled the air, to bellows of “You Catholic whore!”

A curly head emerged from the window. “Good people, be civil!” called Nell Gwyn. “I am the Protestant whore!”

Nell Gwyn, London’s most popular comedic actress, had been born into poverty before catching the attention of first a theater owner and then the king. She joined the ranks of his mistresses at court, where she was never the maitresse-en-titre but remained a steady, cheerful place in the king’s life. Where Barbara Castlemaine and Louise de Kerouille asked for - and received - everything from ducal titles to repaid debts to unwise secret alliances with France, Nell, born with nothing before making her own career on the stage, seems to have been something very unusual for Charles: a genuine friend.  Nell did want, however, security for her children with the king. The orange-selling daughter of a brothel madam couldn’t be made a duchess, but her eldest son was eventually declared Earl of Burford, while London giggled over various contradictory stories of just how she’d convinced the king, ranging from calling six-year-old Charles “you little bastard” as she had nothing else to call him to simply dangling him out a window. (Her continuing positive relationship with both Charleses suggests the second, at least, was untrue).

Charles II’s last words, whispered to his brother, were “let not poor Nelly starve,” and she did not, settling down in the Nottinghamshire residence that would remain with her descendants until the 20th century. Sadly, she suffered a stroke there soon after Charles’ death, and died in 1687.

[inky-duchess]

Hi! Can you explain the different romantic partners a King could have? If you could also explain their role in the monarchy and how they would rank (I couldn't think of a better word)

Consort/Queen: This is their legal spouse, often married for dynastic reasons. Most royal marriages were civil or happy but Kings were expected to have other partners. An active king was a sign of virility for the Kingdom. The Consort/Queen would be the highest ranking partner

Declared/Official Mistress & Maitresse en titre: This person was the official girlfriend/boyfriend of the monarch. They were often nobleborn or wealthy, chosen as by the monarch (though most are put forward by their families). They were acknowledged so they ranked second to the spouse in the hierarchy of relationships of a monarch. Examples are Madame de Pompadour, Agnes Sorel, Madame de Montespan.

Other mistresses: Monarchs would have extra mistresses on the side, usually other noblewomen whose "reign" would last a couple of weeks or months. They would have some power but very little compared to the other two.

[cherryfi]

Cat and Mouse (M)

Plot: Meeting Johnny had been an accident but the night you’d spent with him wasn’t. Now that he’s had a taste of you there was no way he was going to let you go.

A/N: @lovejohnnvsuh​ gave me this idea. It’s not very good but please be kind :D.

Warnings!: Unprotected sex, a little angst I guess, that bisexual agenda (if you squint). Mafia Au so mentions of violence.

Requests are open!!

This is my fav gif of him , my god!

Word count: 3463

The mission had been pretty simple you were just to take out one target and walk away like nothing had happened it should have ended well but, you hadn’t counted on Eunwoo being as smart as he was psychotic.

Neo zone was an upmarket bar owned by NCT, in the centre of the city. Anybody who was anybody hung out there and that was meant to be where you’d end your target’s short, crime-filled life.

It had been a summer night, the air still warmed by the setting sun but not as heavily as it had been during the day. The cool air carrying the promise of an eventful night.

The feeling of smooth satin rubbed against your body as you walked through the club confidently. The thrum of heavy noise music mixing perfectly with the swaying bodies on the dance floor, you fell into step with them perfectly aware of the eyes watching you; smirking when you caught your target’s eye.  Not noticing the other eyes that watched you dance with beautiful stranger on the dance floor. She smiled at you in invitation and if you hadn’t been on a mission maybe you would have let yourself be swept up by those full, pretty lips and even prettier eyes but you were working.

“I’m sorry honey but, I just came to dance.” You locked eyes with Eunwoo again, running your hands up your thighs and when he invited you over with a swipe of his hand, you were happy to oblige.

Sitting next to Eunwoo, you spent the night pretending that you were completely enthralled with his conversation, hanging off the edge of his every word. Laughing as convincingly as you could at his dry jokes while you rubbed his arm and eventually the more time that you spent with him, the more comfortable he got. His hand wandered to your thigh as you leaned into him.

“We should go somewhere more private, don’t you think.” You tried for sultry, hoping that you convinced him you were falling for him.

But really, he was falling into your trap. All you needed to do was just to convince him that it was a good time for the two of you to be alone, you’d take him somewhere away from the club and it would be a done deal.

You’d make it look like heart failure and no one would look into.

Given that you weren’t able to kill him in the club. Especially because Neo Zone was of course owned by NCT and everyone was subject to a search as soon as they entered, you had to pack something small. So a dermally absorbed poison disguised as a lipstick, would have to do.

All you need to do was rub it on the side of his neck and he would be dead within 5 minutes. He’d slip away peacefully not really knowing that he was dying and when they found him any autopsy would say that he had had a heart attack. Which of course would be a little suspicious given the fact that he was 23 years old and in prime health but because of his position within the organised crime community there was no way that anyone would really take any special look into his death because that would place them down a rabbit hole, exposing a lot of people along the way.

That was how the plan should have gone, but it didn’t.

As you leaned forward suggesting to him that maybe it was time for you to find somewhere private to go, you felt the cold and recognisable, fear inducing touch of the barrel of a gun against the back of your neck and in the same whispered tone that you’d spoken to him in…

“I know exactly who you are, and I know what you do. It’s over, Y/N.” On the outside you’d kept your cool but, inside the feeling of dread gripped you, sending adrenaline surging through your veins, while keeping you frozen. He laughed mirthlessly as he leaned back into the plush leather of the VIP couch.

Fate really was a cruel mistress; or maybe it was karma for all the people you’d killed.

You were one of the corporation’s top assassins and had been sent in on difficult operations.

Your best tactic was seduction.

You should have been able to complete your mission. But unbeknownst to you, you’d garnered a name for yourself in the mafia community and some of its top members had been waiting for you – you’d been compromised.

Just as you were being ushered to get up, you were surrounded by new men, some you recognised, others you didn’t but, you knew that they must have all belonged to NCT.

“We’ll be having none of that in my club Eunwoo, Neo zone is neutral territory, even for her, put the gun down before I have to make you. Miss Y/N, you and I need to talk.” Johnny stood at the helm, his height and dominant presence just begging anyone to oppose him.

He’d effectively saved your life but, you’d broken the rules and now it seemed that you were in trouble.

Neo Zone was neutral territory. Everyone knew that, including the Corp.

Regardless of what was happening, no blood could be spilled in an establishment owned by NCT.

They were the kings of the city and nobody wanted to invoke the wrath of their head ‘Lee Taeyong’, not even a group as powerful as the Corporation.

The Corp had largely stayed away from NCT as they hadn’t done anything to upset the heads at the top and NCT had stayed away too (providing the Corp an illusion of power that everyone knew they didn’t really have).

The rumours had been that Taeyong had dirt on everyone in the Corporation and with all the support of the top gangs in the city, could cause a mess if the corporation chose to ‘step out of line’.

But this wasn’t about the precarious relationship between the Corp and NCT, this was about Johnny Seo, the man who currently had you by the arm and was taking you to an awaiting car.

Seo Yongho or Johnny, as he was better known, was the second in command to Lee Taeyong and they matched perfectly. Where Taeyong tended to be introverted and cold, Johnny was open and warm making him the perfect host for a neutral and welcoming club like this.

“Get in, Y/N.” The whisper of his deep voice next to your ear, drove a chill down your spine. You hadn’t expected him to be so close and his imposing aura had become dominant and seductive.

You looked at your reflections in the car’s tinted window and it was clear from the way that he was looking at you what his intentions were.

You weren’t about to become some King pin’s maitresse  en titre.

“Look, thanks for back there but, I wasn’t about to do anything on NCT property. I know the rules and I know that the Corp isn’t immune. I’ve got work to do so; I’ll just be heading back.” But Johnny just chuckled as a man that you didn’t recognise opened the car’s back door, his copper skin seeming to shine even in the dimly lit night.

“Don’t you think you should thank me for saving your life? Get in the car Y/N.”

And thank him you did with the silent acknowledgement that this would be a one-time thing.

You were allowed to enjoy yourself from time to time, right?

You’d found yourself in his bed wrapped up in his soft cotton sheets where you’d thanked him again and again for his… kindness.

The way he’d held you, the way he’d said your name, hell, just the way he’d looked at you had bought on a feeling that you’d not felt for anyone and you knew you had to get away.

It was dangerous, how intoxicating he was and it was clear from the moment that you’d stepped into his car, that you’d never have enough of Johnny Seo and there was no way that he was going to let you. That was made even more clear at the end of the night when he’d whispered, “You’re mine.” Against your skin, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

But by daylight you were gone.

Thus, entering you into the game of cat and mouse.

Your company had put you on leave, understanding that you had been compromised and could no longer be in the field undisguised (and eventuality that you’d all planned for) but, you hadn’t planned on being chased by a very powerful man.

NCT (and therefore Johnny) were so powerful and so well connected that the Corporation refused to get involved, the thinly kept truce between the 2 groups on the line.  They did even give you a safe house to hide in but had instead given you the funds to keep running.    

You’d been running for 6 months and it was beginning to get tiring. Constantly teetering on the edge of paranoia, always looking over your shoulder, you were mentally drained.

With Johnny always one step behind you, you’d been unable to stay in one place for more than 2 nights without catching sight of him and you were running out of places to hide.

You would soon be trapped.

In a rare moment of good fortune, you’d been able to send him in the wrong direction, buying yourself some time to recoup before you’d be on the run again and you’d used that time to book yourself into a beautiful hotel.

The Lotus was a 5- star top of the market hotel, prized for its extravagant rooms and exceptional customer service. They had some of the best spa facilities in the world.

So, you’d booked yourself suite 448, a room with a beautiful view of the city and a full spa day with all the trimmings.

Taking off your hotel robe, you hung it behind the changing screen and made your way to the massage table. The smell of Jasmine wafted in the air, calming you as you rolled your shoulders and lay down on your stomach, covering your lower half with a towel.

As instructed, you pressed a button on the massage table, letting your masseuse know that you were ready and soon enough you heard the light padding of someone entering the room.

They said nothing as they began to pour warm massage oil onto your back and it should have sent alarm bells ringing but, you were too tired to care; sighing in bliss as you felt strong, warm hands working the knots out of your muscles.

The strong grip, however soon became painful as the (obviously) male hands started to push down onto your shoulders and when you felt them wrap around your neck, you jerked up; ready to throw yourself at whoever this psycho was.

You froze when your eyes met Johnny’s stern gaze.

“Caught you.” You scurried up the table, looking between him and the door but, you knew you didn’t stand a chance.

And as if reading your mind, Johnny grabbed your ankles pulling you down the table and into him.

He stood between your naked thighs, his hands underneath them, keeping you trapped.

“I’ll make sure that you can’t run from me again. Let’s use up all that energy, yeah?” The softness of his voice did little to mask the dominance of his words and you shuddered.

There was no way that he’d ever let you go.

“Do you want me Y/N? I know you do but, I need to hear you say it. I need you to hear yourself tell me how much you want me.” You felt brush of his eyelashes as he kissed along your jaw and down your neck. Lifting you off the table, he placed you to stand in front of him.

He hungrily drank in the sight of you, your nakedness on full display and you drew in a shaky breath, the heady smell of jasmine becoming intoxicating as it mixed and danced with the smell of his cologne.  You desperately wanted to hide.

The tension in the air grew thick as he watched you expectantly.

“Let’s cut this game short. We both know what we want so just say it. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted; just say the word.” Even before you could muster up the courage to give into what you wanted, needed even, he’d already known that you would.

Johnny held your gaze, his eyes full of lust as he took off his clothes. His gaze becoming playful and smug when your eyes traced his movements.

“I want you.” And if it wasn’t clear enough, you grabbed his hands, stopping him as he made to undo his belt, instead undoing it for him.

Now on your knees, you were face to face (dick) with his member, gasping in surprise because of his lack of underwear. He only smirked down at you.

You gripped him gently, biting your lip as you began to stroke him; humming as he hissed in pleasure.

“How did you find me?” You kissed his tip, literally pumping him for answers, and took a tentative lick, making him buck his hips slightly.

“Does it matter?” You supposed it didn’t but, you wanted to know so that you’d make sure that he’d never find you again. You shrugged it off for the time being.

Johnny didn’t know it, but this would be the last time he saw you; you’d be in the wind again before he knew it.

“No.” You took him in whole, bobbing your head slowly, letting his deep groans egg you on.

You wanted to give into him, a man you barely knew, and that was dangerous. Assassins like you weren’t supposed to be taken with flights of fancy.

You let your thoughts go, fully enjoying the sensation of his hands your hair while you worked him to a frenzy. You moaned around him, increasing your speed when his grip got tighter, losing yourself in the burn of having your hair pulled.

You snapped back to reality when he pulled your head back and guided you to stand up and pulling you against his body, his lips stealing your breath away.

When he broke away from the kiss, his lips were swollen, his breathing heavy.

“As pretty as you look on your knees baby, that’s not how I want you.” He smiled sweetly and kissed your knuckles, helping you back onto the table.

“You’re so beautiful baby, I missed this view.” Johnny placed opened mouth kisses down your body and along your waist, your breath catching as he avoided the very place that you needed him.

He chuckled lightly at your exasperated huff as he kissed your inner thighs; gasping when he bit down, causing you to loosen your grip on the table, falling back onto the table.

“Y/N look at me.” You raised your head. Your vision hazy with need, you met the steely and determined gaze that you’d seen over 6 months before when you’d first met him.

“I’m going to devour you.” You wanted to curl up and hide from that gaze, but he wouldn’t let you. His grip on your thigh tightened as he opened your legs.

Your eyes rolled back into your head and you fell back again as he kissed your clit. His tongue worked you open, causing you to cry out and grip the sheets in your hands.

You were losing your mind, slipping closer and closer to the edge as he worked his tongue inside of you.

You cried out your hand flying to his hair and gripping him hard as he moaned against your clit, your thighs squeezing around his face.

Johnny’s left hand gripped your thigh as he sent to you to a fever pitch with the middle finger of his right hand; increasing in speed when you started announcing your orgasm.

He worked to your edge and then pushed you over it, your body going stiff and then lax as your orgasm washed over you, crying out with abandon.

He kept going even as you began to push his head away, the oversensitivity make you curl up.

“Johnny, stop. S’toomuch…” Your voice coming out garbled, you couldn’t find it in yourself to feel shame at how loud been, especially when Johnny stood up – his big body looming over you.

“It’s too much? It can’t be. I’m not done with you yet.” When he had that look in your eye, who were you to tell him no? You gasped into his fervent kiss as he entered you, wrapping your legs around his hips when he’d fully entered you.

Johnny was not a small man and you were reminded of that with ever inch inside of you but, you loved it.

Especially when he started rocking his hips.

He set a brutal pace, slamming against you in ways that made you sure you would bruise. His head resting in the crook of your neck, you felt more than heard every groan as he pounded into you.

He sunk his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, increasing in speed and causing you hiss, the pain quickly leaving you as he licked the sensitive spot, your head falling back.

You stiffened up, your hands gripping onto his shoulders as he rubbed your clit, his fingers matching the pace of his thrusts, his eyes never leaving your face.

“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart? Let me know how good I make you feel.” Forehead pressed against your own, he held your gaze, his dark eyes daring you to tell him that you didn’t feel good.

The only responses you good muster up were garbled version of his name mixed with curse words eyes squeezing shut as you came again. Your vision turned white as you cried out, letting go and falling back onto the massage table – thoroughly exhausted.

Johnny came inside of you soon after, chanting your name like a mantra.

The joint comedown from your high was sobering as the gravity of what had gone on hit you.

Johnny held you gently, kissing along your jaw and eventually kissing your lips deeply. He helped you off the table and to a couch in the room; bringing you to sit on his lap.

“Won’t you be with me Y/N?” You laid your head on his shoulder trying to catch your breath and struggling to find reasons why it would be a bad idea to fall in love with him.

“You’d be happy with me; we both know it.” You wanted to believe him; you really did. But people like you, assassins, didn’t have happy endings.

“Would I?” You needed to get out of here.

“Yeah, I’d make you so happy. I know we don’t know each other deeply but, don’t tell me you don’t feel something.” He was pleading with you but, this was your chance. You climbed of his lap, wobbly on your feet, feigning exasperation and putting space between you.

You grabbed your robe, slipping it over your shoulders and tying it around your body. “It’s not that easy and you know it. There’s no happy ending here when I know that you’re just going to use me for sex.” Was that hurt you saw flash through his eyes?

It didn’t matter.

You needed this over and down with and just like you’d expected, Johnny bolted up from his seat, wrapping his arms around your waist to stop you from running. You wrapped your arms neck, hugging him tightly before you slipped the syringe out of your sleeve and injecting hm in the neck.

Johnny gasped, pushing you away and falling back into the couch, a wounded look on his face.

“What did you hit me with?” His words already slurring, he put his hand to his neck.

“It’s a sedative, you’ll be out for an hour or so. This can’t work Johnny. You know that, you have to know that. I’m so sorry but, I need you to let this go.”

“Why?” Honestly though why? You could genuinely see yourself being happy with him, there was no real reason to stop you other than fear. You wished you could give him a legitimate answer but, there was none.

Johnny soon passed out, the cross look on his face smoothing as he lost consciousness and you called it in, asking for the clean-up crew to tie up the loose ends; making sure to tell them not to hurt him.

They’d placed him in your hotel room to sleep the sedative off, while you disappeared, just as you’d planned.

Johnny woke up in suite 448, alone.

[nellygwyn]

This is a niche post inspired by @alicehoffmans​ posting some incredibly vile screenshots of fans of The Spanish Princess (a show I haven’t and probably won’t watch, but am consuming through Tumblr gifs) saying incredibly disgusting things about Anne Boleyn and other mistresses (although Anne was never a mistress in the technical sense) of Henry VIII. Misogynistic, disgusting stuff, couched in that irritating as fuck Twitter stan language. I went on the offending people’s Twitters and Tumblrs to read more, because initially, I wanted to start shit, then I thought ‘These are probably just stupid teenagers who don’t know any better and are just super invested in a show, I won’t stoop to their level’ and then I saw one of them was fucking 4MOTHERFUCKING5 YEARS OLD and should know better. A grown fucking woman who purports to write historical fiction should know better about history, about the world, about reality. And here I am, writing this post. This got way longer than I expected because I am annoyed so...

Honestly, the main thing I gleaned from perusing their timelines: Some of you would do well to finally realise that kings had mistresses. We can go back and forth about how this was born from a sexist society, and a sexist attitude to the role & rights of a king vs a queen consort (and I would say ‘Yeah, it sucks’), but that is the truth of the matter. Your husband having extramarital affairs was part and parcel of being the wife of a king (and possibly, I’d argue, being the wife of a high-ranking man in general). Royal women who became queen consorts weren’t stupid, they knew this. Many of them tolerated it: take my favourite British queen consort, Caroline of Ansbach, for example. Her husband, King George II, took a mistress, Henrietta Howard, when he was Prince of Wales, mainly because he knew that, as heir to the throne, it would’ve been bad form to NOT have a mistress. Caroline’s nose was a bit put out of joint for a while, but in the end, she found she could have a fairly decent (if occasionally petty) relationship with Henrietta, who she actually made one of her Women of the Bedchamber. Caroline, in short, made it work. This is just something kings did, for centuries and centuries and centuries. I mean, in France, ‘maitresse-en-titre’ (the official mistress) was an actual fucking position at court. Calling royal mistresses ‘homewreckers’ doesn’t hold up to historical scrutiny, sorry. Worse shit was happening in the early modern era, worse than a king indulging in a bit of centuries-old bawdry with a woman with ambition, a sexuality, and sometimes, a romantic inclination.  

Does this mean that queens who knew their husband was having extra-marital affairs felt great about it? No. Caroline of Ansbach was pretty laidback but even she was a bit huffy at first. My favourite historical monarch of all time, Charles II, is pretty notorious for the amount of mistresses he had. His wife, Catherine fo Braganza, was actually warned about his proclivity for women, by her mother before she left Portugal, so she had prior warning but still, in the initial months and years of her marriage, it was hard for her. She had pretty public blow-ups with Charles about it, at first. And I haven’t seen TSP, so I can only speculate but it does look like they explore, on some level, the emotional impact infidelity in a royal marriage could have and that’s fine. But that doesn’t mean that you, the viewer, suddenly throw all critical thinking to the wind because you have quite a modern, visceral reaction to “cheating.’ I’ve been cheated on, at least twice, and it hurts, it’s shit, so when I read about Catherine of Braganza desperately trying to claw Charles back to, solely, her...yes, I feel something but I’m objective and historically literate enough to realise that that doesn’t automatically make Charles, a 17th century monarch, a deadbeat, and his mistresses all equally culpable in hurting Catherine. 

Many of you could do with injecting a bit of nuance into your discussions about women who, you know, actually existed, and had lives and relationships as complicated as our own. Stop calling women who were judicially murdered on trumped up charges ‘whores’ just because they, for a while, were ‘the other woman’ in a time where this was actually kind of completely normal. The only thing I might concede for someone like Anne Boleyn specifically is that it went further, and it became something a lot more “serious” than, say, the relationship Henry had with Bessie Blount (which KoA was able to make work.) This made it upsetting and ultimately disastrous for KoA (no one denies this because no one can) - but again, you were not there, you were not party to Anne’s feelings (or KoA’s, I might add), you do not know how the situation unravelled in real time. How do you know that, in a different time and a different context, you would not have ended up making many of the decisions these women did? You don’t know. And you never will know. Take a step back and be objective. Perspective.

In conclusion:

[thetudorslovers]

~My Favourite mistresses of the kings in no particular order~

1.The Fair Rosamond (1140—1176), was a mistress of Henry II of England. She was the subject of many legends and stories.The story that she was poisoned by Queen Eleanor first appears in the French Chronicle of London in the 14th century. The romantic details of the labyrinth at Woodstock, including the clue that guided King Henry II to her bower, were the inventions of storywriters of later times. There is no evidence to support the popular belief that she was the mother of Henry’s natural son William Longsword, Earl of Salisbury.

2.Elizabeth "Jane" Shore (c. 1445 – c. 1527) was one of the many mistresses of King Edward IV of England, one of three whom he described as "the merriest, the wiliest, and the holiest harlots" in his realm. She also became a concubine to other noblemen, including Edward's stepson, Thomas Grey, 1st Marquess of Dorset, and William Hastings, 1st Baron Hastings, his close friend and adviser.

3.Inês de Castro (1325 – 1355) was a Galician noblewoman best known as lover and posthumously-recognized wife of King Peter I of Portugal. The dramatic circumstances of her relationship with Peter which was forbidden by his father King Afonso IV, her murder at the orders of Afonso, Peter's bloody revenge on her killers, and the legend of the coronation of her exhumed corpse by Peter, have made Inês de Castro a frequent subject of art, music, and drama through the ages.

4.Agnès Sorel (1422 – 1450), known by the sobriquet Dame de beauté (Lady of Beauty), was a favourite, and chief mistress, of King Charles VII of France, by whom she bore four daughters. She is considered the first officially recognized royal mistress. She was the subject of several contemporary paintings and works of art, including Jean Fouquet's Virgin and Child Surrounded by Angels.

5.Alice Perrers (1348–1400) was an English royal mistress whose lover and patron was King Edward III of England. She met him originally in her capacity as a lady-in-waitingto Edward's consort, Philippa of Hainault. She went on to become the wealthiest woman in the land. However, she was despised by many and was accused of taking advantage of the far older king with her youth, beauty, and opportunistic character

6.Elizabeth (Bessie) Blount, the second daughter of John Blount and his wife, Katherine Peshall Blount was born in about 1500. In 1501, Prince Arthur and Catherine of Aragon set up their own court in Ludlow. Katherine Blount became one of Catherine's lady-in-waiting. She was also the mother of his son, Henry Fitzroy. Bessie Blount was also a superb dancer and had a pretty singing voice.

[queenaboleyna]

For me the weird thing is s1. So they skip ten years of Henry's reign, set in the 1520s then use events from the skipped years? Like what? And why all these dudes no one cares about like Knyvet? Where'd he go? Sort of think they were lucky to get s2 after that.

so glad you brought this up lol cause i’ve always thought season 1 was the messiest of all the seasons?

like, i love wolsey’s storyline, i love catherine’s scenes, i love anne, and it’s still fun to watch it; but it’s still such a mess lol - like you mentioned, they made a big deal about knyvet in the first half and him almost dying in jousting only for him to never be mentioned again; norfolk was still supposed to be the main wolsey anti in this season and he barely did anything; fitzroy was introduced just to be prematurely killed off (i suppose to make it so henry’s matter seems more urgent? idk)

and how could we forget the elephant in the room that is the whole thomas tallis storyline lmfaoo like i don’t think i will ever understand where they were going with that? he’s such a random person for them to even put in the show, let alone main him a main cast member?? nothing he did had anything to do with the rest of the story??? he had a thing with william compton for a bit, he sung to henry at dinner once, and that’s literally it for how much he interacts with other main characters??? and that weird ass thing with the twins when he can see one of them having a halo bc she’s about to die from the sweat, and then he marries the other (who hallucinates/sees the ghost of her dead sister even when her and tallis are having sex like on god what even was happening in the writing room here helppp) you could cut out all his scenes and absolutely nothing would change, like not to sound mean but it was such a waste of minutes lol.

also i feel like out of all the seasons, it was the least... regal one? like... does anyone look at s1 henry and think ah yes... he looks very kingly... so majestic... did literally anyone think that lol. like if the show didn’t tell me he was a king i would never guess it

another thing that always bothered me in s1 is... we somehow never get a scene where henry decides to marry anne?? like?? we see him pursue her and ask her to be his maitresse en titre. anne refuses, henry storms off. a little later that same episode henry recieves a jewelled little boat which he takes as anne accepting his proposal - where is the proposal scene?? where is henry deciding that he wants to remarry to anne, specifically? the show lets him decide he wants to divorce catherine before he considers anne as a new wife, so when he decides that he also wants to marry anne, this shouldve been such a big thing, but it just? never happens? it’s more of a silent transfer but idk, it always came across as weird to me

and finally... the timeline. they clearly wanted to get to the great matter as quickly as possible, but they also wanted to include the big events from henry’s earlier reign, like the field of cloth of gold, brandon and mary’s margaret marriage, so they just jumbled it all up together, which forced them to make a lot changes in order for it all to work and when you know all of the changes they made, it just seems really chaotic

anyways yea like there is a lot of aspects of s1 that i do like, i still think wolsey is one of the best and most complex characters in the show and the storyline of his downfall is one of the best plots throughout the show, it’s still very fun to watch, but i think sometimes ppl tend to look at it through rose colored glasses and nostalgia cause quality wise, i wouldn’t say its the tudors’ best season