#historical jewlery

[uniquekindoftrash]

golden ring of queen Teodora found in 1915. in Banjska Monastery

today it is kept in collection of National Museum in Belgrade

[rawliverandgoronspice]

So, by the way, does anyone have sources for really solid historical documentation on traditional outfits from the SWANA region, especially before colonialism happened, and very preferably from first hand fashion researchers? I'm trying to build myself a small collection to understand what the hell I'm doing when I'll attempt redesigning OoT gerudos a little (keeping some elements but making them les… Like This), but a lot of what I find is from european scholars. If you have any book or series or text or anything that you think might be a staple of that particular subject, I'm super interested!

[olgadealexandria]

🫀EROS, GREEK GODS AND JEWELRY🫀

Gold earrings, Greek c.300 BCE, the MET Museum.

I'm in loveeee with these earrings! Depictions of gods in jewelry were common in Ancient Greek, especially the God of love, Eros.

These types of motifs were not only used by the Ancients, though. In the next photo, we can see depicted a centaur, its body made of a baroque pearl and decorated with sapphires and rubies.

Pendant in the form of a centaur, 16-17th century, the MET museum.

Another example, again, from the early 17th century, is this gorgeus pendant of Neptune on top of a sea monster:

Pendant in the Form of Neptune and a Sea Monster, early 17th century, the MET museum.

When I see objects from the past, I sometimes wonder who owned them. In this case, I think they were really lucky (and rich, too).

In all seriousness, this is my first post in English!! :) yaaay

[fashion-from-the-past]

[haldanare]

the costumes of HotD arent Bad per se, but i really wish they had given it its own visual identity instead of leaning so much on the GoT aesthetic. like if there ever was a time to lean into like a byzantine aesthetic or the like, it would have been here

[ruvi-muffin]

Hear yee shadowgast nation

I bringeth (in jest) the history of rings so we may partake in the culturally appropriate (jesting) adornment of the blorbos hjykg

According to this, married men in germany wore their weding rings on the right hand in the 50s (but only After they're married. If they were engaged they wore it on the left. Fun right!) And in eastern europe apparently they're Also worn on the right hand

[cynicalclassicist]

A beautifully elaborate design! I have to like this!

Watch by Pierre Morel, Metropolitan Museum of Art: European Sculpture and Decorative Arts

Anonymous Gift, in memory of Lady May Fletcher-Moulton, 1926 Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, NY Medium: Case of gold and enamel, with floral design

http://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/195637

[du-hjarta-skulblaka]

Yknow how I was talking about getting back into bg3? Yeah, in playing vanilla skyrim again,

[sonny-boiiii]

Rtc headcanons but they're just quirks/habits that i have

Ocean: Chronically greasy hair. Tries everything in her power to make it better. Nothing works

Noel: Tried to learn French on Duolingo but gave up after abt 60 days

Misha: Fidgets. Like a lot. With anything and everything. Carries around a few fidget toys and sometimes lets his friends play with them in class

Ricky: Jewlery like everywhere possible. Definitely a silver jewlery person

Penny/Jane: Twirls her hair. She wraps it around her finger and they create knots and stuff. Has ripped out tons of hair from it

Constance: She writes reminders on her hand and refuses to get sticky notes/a planner. (It drives Ocean crazy) Also lets friends doodle on her hands/arms just bc.

Bonus:

Ezra: Loves scientific/historical videos on youtube and finds them entertaining. He knows a crap ton of random facts from watching them from a young age

[ovaryacted]

GUILTY AS SIN || MASTERLIST

SERIES SUMMARY: Being the daughter of a Senator of Rome has it's pros and cons, you lived comfortably while constantly being reminded of your insubordinate position in society. However, upon meeting General Acacius, your life changes as you begin to grow fond of him. The question is, will he reciprocate your feelings, or cast you out to suffer your impending doom of unwanted courtship?

SERIES WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Eventual smut. Girthy age gap assumed [Acacius is canon age/reader is around very early 20s]. Explicit Language. Formal dialogue. Mentions of patriarchal norms & customs. Misogyny. Comments & threats of prostitution. Violence. Political corruption & instability. Talks of virginity & sexual experience. Yearning & longing. Mutual pining. Budding romance/relationship. Unintentional/intentional courting. Terms of endearment (dove, little dove). Reader has hair & wears dresses & jewlery. Reader can read and write, educated due to privileged status. Marcus Acacius is a romantic & respects women. Not entirely historically accurate. Each chapter has additional warnings and context; heed the tags.

➣ Note: Reader's Father’s Name - Julianus Novius Lurio. Handmaiden name - Viria.

A/N: Had this idea saved for months when we first got pictures of Pedro Pascal playing General Marcus Acacius, and I am happy to finally bring this story to life! Just a little mini series to talk about falling for the General, gotta love it. Reblogs, comments, and likes are always greatly appreciated!

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

▹ I. - INTACTUM

▹ II. - TBA

▹ III. - TBA

↳ more to be added…

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[topguncortez]

Court Of Thieves | | Chapter 6

previous part | Masterlist | Next Part

synopsis: Jake invites Lady Mitchell to his chambers for dinner. And while both hoped for a flawless dinner, emotions and revelations get the best of them. Lady Mitchell's sister Allison arrives at court.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: historical inaccuracies, era-related misogyny, mentions of murder, virginity, mentions of assault, pregnancy, religion, witchcraft, mentions of child death, violence

There were several great banquet halls throughout the castle. Each one was a little bit different than the other, varying in size and decoration. The one that was attached to Jake’s chambers was small and cozy. There was a large fireplace in the middle of the room that was roaring, lighting to the room with a soft orangish glow. Black and gold decor covered the room, large banners with the Seresin family crest hung from the rafters. The table had been decorated to perfection, a large roasted pig in the middle, branches of greenery around it. Cheeses, fruits, candles, and pitchers of wine spread throughout. You thought it was a little much for a dinner between two people who were engaged, but Jake was the future King and only the best was for the King. 

You were a bit nervous to join Jake for dinner in his private chambers. The embarrassment of what hapepned last time you were there was still fresh on your skin and brought goosebumps and flushing to your cheeks. You also had your speculation about what Jake really wanted with you joining him. You had heard stories of Kings taking their betrothes before the wedding, to make sure she was fertile and could produce heirs. Even though you had attempted to console Jake using a method he seemed to be familiar with, it still scared you to take that step. 

Ever since Bradley returned, you heard the whispers of those questioning your virtue. Sure, you had fantisized about being with Bradley. Having him touch and kiss you the way you had seen him do with other women. It was a secret you’d take to the grave, knowing that if anyone knew about it, they’d certainly send you to a nunnery. But you and Bradley were close, he was your best friend, your confidant. The rumors that swirled around made you fear for Bradley, especially with his new position on the court. 

“You sure this is right?” You asked Clara as she finished tying your corset. 

“Yes, my lady,” Clara said, “He is a good man. He is a King.” 

“Not all Kings are good,” You whispered. Clara stepped back with a sad smile on your face, “But I guess I can’t fear him forever.” 

Clara grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly, “He might be unruly, but I have watched that boy grow. I fed him from my own breast. He is a good man with a good heart.” 

You smiled at the woman, who had become a maternal figure to you in the short few weeks you’ve been at the castle, “Thank you, Clara. Take the night off. Go visit your children.” 

Clara curstied to you, “Thank you, my lady.” 

You let out a shaky breath as Clara left your dressing room, “Guards! Take me to the Prince’s chambers.” 

— — — 

Jake was starting to think you weren’t going to show up. He had been sitting at the head of the table, staring at the stupid roasted pig for half an hour when the page announced your arrival. The moment you stepped into the room, you took Jake’s breath away. You were like a vision, dressed in a baby pink gown. The same color of gown that had been a recurring sight in Jake’s dreams. Your hair cascaded down your shoulders, as gold jewlery ajoined your neck and fingers. He was glad that gold had looked so good on you, as it was a steeple of his family’s crest. 

Jake rose from the table, walking over to you. His fingers itched to reach out and touch the soft looking material, but he refrained. This was supposed to be a dinner to get to know you better. This was not the place for the dirty thoughts of what was underneath that dress. 

“Do you like the color pink?” Jake asked, looking at you. 

“No, I think it’s an unfortunate color,” You glanced down at the dress, But my mother said it's the color of maids and brings out my eyes.” 

“Smart woman she is,” Jake nodded, and turned back to the table.  

“Was,” You corrected, wincing at the sound of your abruptness. 

Jake stopped in his track. He didn’t know your mother had died. 

It suddently hit Jake how much he reallly didn’t know about you, if he hadn’t known something so major. Gulping, Jake turned back towards you, offering his hand to you. You gingerly placed your hand in his, and he lead you to the table. Once you were settled in your chair, Jake regained his spot at the head of the table. 

“Well, I do hope you like pig,” Jake gestured to the animal in the center of the table. 

You gulped, and looked up at him shyly, “Is this a bad time to mention that I don’t eat meat?” 

Jake pursed his lips together, “. . . Would’ve been nice to know before they butchered and roasted Wilbur.” 

“You would find it funny to make jokes about innocent animals being led to slaughter after knowing a life of peace…” You sighed and walked over to the table. 

Jake huffed and looked up at the ceiling, “One night… Please.” 

Dinner went as well as one could expect of two people who hardly knew each other but hated the position they were in. The conversation flowed tensely. You weren’t very open to sharing your life but Jake had learned that you were well educated in art, philosophy, needle work, and music. He also learned that you knew two other languages, being able to switch easily between French and Latin. Jake also listened as you talked candidly about your mother. He had vague memories of seeing your mother at court before she left. 

“Her eyes were like yours,” Jake said and you nodded, “Dark hair which made her eyes even more enticing. I remember my sister used to say she could turn us into stone her eyes were so green, like marbles.” 

“They could tell the future, my father said,” You said, sipping your wine, “Only made people believe that she had the craft more.” 

Jake tried not to dwell on that comment, thinking back to his conversation with his grandmother. Jake shook his head, “Whenever I was sick or sad she’d make those cakes with the uh. . . the. . .” 

“Vanilla,” You smiled, “She’d paid a soldier to ship some back from Spain. It would hang in our kitchen and when she’d cook with it, the whole house would smell warm and sweet. Kind of like a hug.” 

“That sounds great,” Jake said, looking at her with stars in his eyes, “How about your sister? Where does she land these days?” 

The fork in your hand stopped about halfway at the mention of Allison. You were somewhat privy about his past relationship with her. Allison had all but boasted about it in her letters home to you, which had been intercepted one day and her secret revealed. Your father wanted to kill both her and the Prince for what they did. Instead, he sent Allison to France to study and hopefully marry well. So far, that hadn’t been able to happen. 

“And why do you care to know about my sister, your Majesty?” You quipped, tilting your head to the side. 

“I got to know her when she was here at court,” Jake answered simply. 

“Hm,” You nodded your head, “I’m sure you did,” You set your fork down and wiped your mouth with a cloth, “I have actually asked her to come to court.” 

“You have?” Jake’s voice was full of surprise which sent a pang to your chest, but you kept your composure as you answered. 

“I have. I do not have my mother, and she is the closest thing I have left. I need her.” 

“Understood,” Jake nodded, “It’s the same with me and my sisters.” 

Jake could remember the day both of his sisters were born. It was a magical day, but it was also a day filled with fear. The moment his mother had gone into labor, Jake and the King were ushered out of the castle and spent the day at the Abbey. Apparently, it was improper for them to be there when a woman was doing her womanly duties. It had nearly killed Jake, pacing the aisle of the church, waiting to hear about his mother. He could remember hearing her screams and cries. But the moment the guard took them back to the castle, Jake sprinted down to his mother’s chambers to see her very much alive and holding the tiniest bundle of blankets. 

“Would you like to see your sister, Jacob?” His mother had said to him, her voice strained and body tired, but her eyes were full of love. Jake had known in that moment, as he sat next to his mother and held the tiny wiggling baby in his arms, that he would do whatever he could to protect her. 

“It was one of the reasons we had started to expand the castle,” Jake chuckled, leaning back in his chair a bit, “When Jane got married, she was going to move to Hampshire with her husband, but I couldn’t think about being that far away from her. Sure, Hampshire isn’t as far as North Island, but its close to Eastland. I couldn’t get to her fast enough if something were to go wrong.” 

“It’s admirable,” You smiled, reaching out and squeezing Jake’s hand, “I would do the same for my family. Which is why I have to thank you tremendously for making my father and Bradley a part of your council.” 

Jake ignored the slight pang of jealousy in his belly. He had all of one conversation with Bradley and decided he did in fact hate him. There was just something in the way Bradley talked, as if he had more experience and knowledge than Jake. It took all of the strength for Jake to not command Bradley to go to Argerus and fight with the soldiers. But then he’d have a very angry bride. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Jake plastered on his best fake smile. The smile he’d been practicing since he was a boy, “Your father drives a hard bargain. Offered the man a whole house and he didn’t take it.” 

“He’s an old mule. I presume once he hears Allison is at court, and I am married he’ll take the house if Magnus.” 

“Yeah… the marriage,” Jake said and bit his bottom lip. 

Nervousness arose in your body as Jake fidgeted with the fork in front of him, “What is it?” 

“It’s nothing bad, just uh…” Jake cleared his throat and sat up higher, “The privy council had a discussion today with the Cardinal, and they all agree that,” Jake grabbed your hand again, “We will be married, and then I shall be crowned King… but you will not be crowned Queen until you produce an heir.” 

You felt your heart stop in your chest. The one thing that had been your biggest fear. For as long as you can remember, you’ve always wanted children. You treated your dolls as babies, carrying them all over your father’s house, tending to them as if they were real. You always feared that maybe one day, you wouldn’t be able to have children. Now the fear was amplified ten fold with your new position. 

A shiver ran down your spine, as images of your headless cousin flooded your mind, “Of course,” You straightened in your seat, “Would you rather know that I am worth it before you are to be married?” 

Jake scoffed, “If I wanted to steal your virtue I would’ve done it already. I am not a pig.” 

It wasn’t uncommon practice for King’s to take their wives in secret before they married. Jake’s own parents had done it, hoping to save his mother the embarrassment of the realm if she could not provide him an heir. Though Jake thought about it, and considered the advice from his Grandmother, he couldn’t take something that meant so much to you. It was bad enough he was going to have to fuck you in front of a room full of people. He didn’t want you to have the shame and regret of being pregnant on your wedding day. 

“How thoughtful of you,” You sighed and grabbed your goblet of wine. 

Jake narrowed his eyes, “Says the one who came into my chambers dressed as a mistress.” 

You glanced up at him, heat rising in your body, “Do you wish I was one? . . . Or to take one for yourself?” 

“I am the crowned King,” Jake puffed his chest out, a smirk on his face, “I can take whomever I do please. If that means a mistress. . . than that means a mistress.” 

“And what? I’m just supposed to ignore it and let you parade around the castle?” It was one of the things you hated about being a woman. Men could walk around with a girl on each arm, and he was praised, while the women were shunned. It wasn’t uncommon for Kings to have mistresses, you knew many children who had been spawned from them. But a sinking feeling settled in your chest at the thought of your husband being with another woman. 

“Isn’t that what your mother did to The Dowager?” 

The moment the words left Jake’s mouth, he regretted it. He saw the moment the look of embarrassment was flooded away with anger. He had one goal in mind with this dinner and it was to not piss you off and push you farther away from him. 

“My mother did not seduce the King nor did she parade around this castle like being raped by him was a badge of honor!” You slamed your hand fist down on the table, making the cutlery rattle, “If you think that is how a King shall rule, than you are not fit for it.” Jake clenched his jaw, and looked down at his untouched plate, his appetite disappearing. 

Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as you looked at him, “Guards! Take me back to my chambers.” 

Jake remained staring at his plate as the heavy doors to the banquet hall opened, and the scent of your perfume disappeared from the room. 

— — — 

When Allison Diana Mitchell was born, the whole of North Island had celebrated. Lady Penelope and Sir Pete had quickly beecome popular figures in the small island town. Sir Pete had many awards from his time serving in the King’s guard. He was a battle legend that peasants liked to tell their children about. Lady Penelope was a kind woman, who had helped peasant women give birth and make sure they have enough food and kindling to get through the harsh winters. The town erupted in cheer when a pageboy went yelling through the streets about the Mitchell’s baby being born. 

Allison was like her father’s twin, with thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Her mother had raised her to be a proper lady, spending time learning needle work and household fixtures. It was only a couple days after her birth that Lady Penelope had gotten a letter from the Queen of Brinefell, wanting to betroth Allison to her son. At first, Lady Penelope despised the idea of sending her daughter to that lions den, but Sir Pete had talked her into it. It was Allison’s birth right as the first born daughter of a nobleman to marry well, and what was better than marrying to crown prince. 

That was until her reputation had been smashed to bits. 

Your laughter echoed down the halls as you walked with your ladies back to your rooms. It was a rare nice early fall day in Brinefell, and you wanted to shoot arrows on the lawn. The Dowager nearly had a heart attack when you burst through the council doors and demanded that the targets be set-up for you. Jake didn’t hesitate to agree, avoiding your eye contact the whole time. Your ladies were all shocked with how well you shot, even though you knew Bradley would be giving you shit for missing the bullseye every time. 

“I’m telling you, I’m a much better shot with some ale-” 

“Lady Mitchell!” Your words were cut off by one of your servant girls rushing to you in a haste. Her eyes were wide and her hair a mess as she ran down the hall, “S-someone broke in! She’s going through your things!” 

“What?” You asked, “Who?” 

“Sh-She’s still in-!” 

“Stay here,” You said firmly and marched down the hall towards your rooms. The door to your room was slightly ajar as you opened it with a loud bang, hoping to scare whoever the unwanted visitor is, “This is the room to the. . . Allison?” 

Your sister slowly turned around, a jewled necklace in her hand and a knowing smirk on her face, “Does no one here know how to properly welcome a lady of the Queen’s court?” 

You laughed as you rushed towards her, pulling her into a tight hug. Allison sighed against you, wrapping her arms around your body, “Thank you for being here.” 

“You’re welcome,” Allison said pulling back, “Honestly, I am surprised you even asked me at all to be here,” She scoffed, “Then I heard that wretched bitch is back.” 

“The Dowager?” 

Allison nodded and sat down on the loveseat, “She is a ruiner of everything. She’s partially to blame for my. . .” Allison looked down at her hands, “reputation.” 

You furrowed your brows as you sat down across from her. Allison was always the loud boisterous one, getting that from your father, but you had never seen her be bashful and shy with a slight tint of a blush on her cheeks. 

“Explain?” You prodded. 

Allison shook her head, “I’d rather not rehash old wounds. Besides, it is your wedding I am here for. The past convestations of me and the prince are null. How are wedding things going?” 

Ever since the realm went out of it’s mourning period, it had been full steam ahead to get ready for the wedding. Gifts and nobles were arriving daily to the castle. Your teeth hurt from all the cakes you had ingested and your ribs hurt from all the dresses you’ve tried on. Every night there had been a party to entertain whatever noble had just arrived. Your head was starting to hurt from the wine consumption and your feet from all the dancing you’ve been doing. But you had to admit, it was great fun. 

“Busy,” You said, “The Prince is in council meetings all day trying to deal with the issues of taxes and profits from the war. I’ve been flashed around like the royal greeter. I’ve lost track of who came from where and brought what.” 

“Sounds like hard work being the Future Queen,” Allison chuckled, “But I am here to help you. . . and I brough a gift.” You furrowed your brows as Allison let out a whistle, and the chompy sounds of a dog’s footsteps came running into the room. 

“Tidus!” You exclaimed, getting down on your knees as the gray Irish Wolfhound ran over to you, licking your face in excitement, “Oh how I missed you!” 

“Swear you love that dog more than Bradley,” You shot your sister a look as you ran your fingers through Tidus’s fur. Allison raised her hands in surrender, “It’s a joke, sister,” Allison stood up from the loveseat, “I must be going. I need to unpack my stuff. But we shall dine sometime?” 

You nodded your head, standing up from the floor, “Yes. It’s good to see you, Allison.” 

Allison curtsied to her sister, “You too, your Majesty.” 

— — — 

Jake’s eyes hurt. 

So did his head. 

And his entire body. 

He thought that trials and tribulations of war took a toll on a man. Well, that was before he sat in council meetings for hours hearing about tax laws, and war laws, and farming laws, and quartering laws, and laws that he didn’t even know were laws. He cursed himself for the years he spent not paying attention to his Chaplain as he was being taught about the laws of Brinefell. 

The biggest issue was that of a plague in Eastland. Grain and pig farmers were falling dead everyday, and shortages were becoming concerning going into the winter months. And with the unrest in Argerus, it lead to more hostility from farmers and their families. Jake’s plan of sending a rider to Eastland to give out gold and bread had failed, the ride caught the sweating before he could even get to his first stop. Now, Jake had to come up with another plan, but Master Moore was proving to be the biggest stick in the ass Jake had ever incountered. 

“If one rider fell ill while trying to make it to Eastland, what is to stop another?” Master Moore had questioned the council. Murmuring among the men ensued as Jake refrained from rolling his eyes.

“Are we even sure that the rider fell ill?” Lord Floyd asked, “The reports say that the sweating is being contained in Hillsdale, a small city inside Eastland. The rider was found dead in Happshire.” 

Jake sat up a bit in his chair, “That’s true. . .” He rubbed his jaw line then looked at Master Moore, “Was the rider’s body ever recovered?” 

Master Moore swallowed, “All plague victims are being collected and burned in the hillside.” 

Jake huffed as he sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with his fists. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could be reading about property tax before his brain exploded. No wonder his father’s hair had turned gray at such a young age. Jake could already feel the gray hairs starting to grow on the sides of his head. 

A knock at the door pulled Jake out of his spiral, “Come in.” 

The door opened, and in slipped an all too familiar face, “Your Majesty.” 

“Lady Allison,” Jake greeted as the woman curstied in front of him, “What are you doing here this late?” 

Allison shrugged, “I thought that I would come say hello. I was hoping to see you earlier but I was told that you were in council meetings all day.” 

Jake simply nodded his head, his green eyes scanning over Allison’s body. She was dressed in a simple red dress, the sleeves and neckline embroidered in black. Her dark hair fells down behind her shoulders, exposing her milky skin. His eyes trailed down her slender neck, to her colarbones and the tops of her breasts that were pushed up because of her corset. Jake clenched his jaw, tearing his eyes away from her, and balling his hands into tight fists. 

“Anyone see you come in here?” Jake asked, his eyes fixed on the portrait of his family crest, studying the Latin words imprinted on the bottom. 

“Boni viri praevalebunt” Good Men will Prevail.

“No, your Majesty,” Allison said, her voice like silk but dripping venom. 

“Good,” Jake looked over at her, “You can still leave without anyone noticing you,” Allison’s jaw dropped in shock as Jake stood up from his desk, “You should have some more respect for your sister. She will be your Queen.” 

Jake brushed past her, without so much as a second look, walking right out his bedroom door.

taglist: @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @laneylovesglen @elijahmikaelsonbitch @desert-fern @prettiewittie @hangmanscoming @damrlova @captainmoonknight @jazminlahey20 @seitmai @xoxabs88xox @princess76179 @clancycucumber230 @soulmates8 @dempy @starberryhorse @kmc1989 @thedroneranger @loving-and-dreaming @tiredqueen73 @sanfransolomitatm @hardballoonlove @djs8891 @hookslove1592 @yuckosworld @itsdesiree86

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[aneldritchmoth]

SOME STICK OF TRUTH ART

they are consuming my brain, i love them

At first I didn't ship them but their fics are always so good

I took some liberties with their designs too, mostly with kenny's dress and kyle's crown. I tried to make kenny's dress more historically accurate.

Though it ended up being more like me sticking whatever I liked on one dress lmao. I also added more jewlery, because, royalty.

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Imagine if the guy who designed totk Ganondorf got to also write his story. Sweet baby Ghirahim, that would have been one memorable story-quest.

The Ganondorf Designer has so much love for the guy in their heart, and I really wish them everything in the world and I would love for them to just.... express their entire vision one day.

Like the amount of subtext and detailing in his design that feels like it should mean something but doesn't is truly.... yeah, it kind of makes me sad! The careful historical and mythological references that don't really build up any parellel to anything deeper in the actual game, the one side covered/one side bared situation (with the one side bared being how we get to see gerudo tattoos and jewlery), the absolutely gorgeous, rich and ornate inner layering of his outfit VS the sober dark tone of the outside... The outfit tells such a complicated story! it's kind of a waste to have all that built-in subtext and barely using it at all. :(

[wszczebrzyszynie]

1️⃣0️⃣

10. Favorite piece of clothing to draw

hihihi... everything folk :) dresses, corsets, headwear, jewlery... i dont think anyone expected a different answer than this. That being said i have a very soft spot for 1890s womens fashion as well - the big sleeves, richly decorated dresses, the hats... my favourite time period when it comes to historical clothing, for sure.

[recreationalfanfics]

First Heartbreak

A Rensuke Kunigami x Fem! Native! Reader drabble, not really a full on detailed fic. Based off of this post and an angst of Kuni and the reader. Might make a yandere vers. follow up or something. Non Natives can interact, just be respectful of the culture!

Your jaw is tight as you string three more of the same colored beads into the fabric, the thread tightening and securing it into your piece. It feels too quiet for you and you hate it. You hate not hearing the sound of a soccer ball being kicked, the little grunts of him giving it his all and pushing himself to be better, you hate when you pierce your finger with your needle because you miss him kissing it better, but you just mostly hate the fact you miss him at all.

You don't realize you're crying until you feel a tear fall on your thumb and you sigh. You loved this park but you have to get up now, because memories of you and him still lingered there. Moving to Japan in middle school was hard for you, the way everyone stared at your hair. The way you heard them whisper about your jewlery and earrings. The way they made fun of your dialect when you spoke, mocking your accent because they hadn't heard it from any other tourist from other countries. You were alienated for a while until you met Kunigami.

He asked you about your jewelry first. You tried your best to explain to him about the significance it had to your culture, how you used it as a creative outlet and how you felt more in touch with your people with it. Then he asked another question and then another, not trying to be annoying but out of sheer curiosity and intruige. It was the beginning of your beautiful relationship and now you were beginning to experience your first heartbreak.

"Fuck does it even matter now?" You think, your anger consuming your sadness, "Bet he's gotten over it already."

He wasn't the same now. He wasn't the kind and loving Kunigami you knew before, the person who came back from Wildcard was a completely different person. You wished so hard that you could be numb to him, care about him a little less and focus on anything else but you couldn't. Being with Kunigami had been such a dream but it was time to wake up now. You wiped your tears away and tried to keep a straight face. One that had no tears and would get past your family without any prying or teasing, one that you could take off behind the safety of your door and hide under a blanket for a while.

Kunigami laid down on his side, the pillow on his head and the necklace you made for him in his hand. It reminded him of the historical beaded jewelry he'd seen in many displays, yet it was still so different. You had beaded a soccer ball emblem on it, which you apologized since you knew it was basic but he had disagreed. He had never seen anything like it before, no one had ever even made him anything like it before. It was meant for him but it was just so...so you. He still loved the texture, his thumb caressing the beads gently as he imagined what it must've been like for you to get them all arranged into the picture you wanted it. The exposed synthetic buckskin comforted him and broke his heart at the same time. The beading details you had done one the lace that went around his neck was orange, like his hair, combined with colors patterns from your tribe and clan. He put it under his pillow as he felt his eyes get tired...or maybe it was because the tears starting at the corners of his eyes began to bother him a little.

He remembers when things went downhill.

When he became colder to you, he hadn't meant too but you were just such a distraction. After his failure in the Blue Lock and being given a second chance, he couldn't afford another distraction, but he also didn't want to let you go. He didn't want to live with that regret...maybe that's why he acted like that, so you'd push him away instead and he wouldn't feel so bad. He was wrong. It only made him feel worse.

At least he still had a piece of you. Slipping his hand under his pillow, he closes his eyes and lets his thoughts go. He remembers your hand running through his hair and the way you sang to him, your voice moving and shifting in a melodic yet soothing way as you sang vocables. Sometimes you'd sing round songs from pow-wows your people had, other times you'd just sing what you wanted too until you messed up, laughing at yourself when your voice cracked awkwardly and him laughing with you. He'll miss those moments but they'll be back soon.

He promises.

When he becomes the World's Greatest Striker, the first thing he'll do is make it up to you. Try to make you see that he had to act the way he did to accomplish his dream and how he'd be better, not just reverting back to being your old Kunigami but someone better; someone not so niave and easily shaken. He'd be stronger and he'd be better.

And you'd take him back.

Right?