#mediveal life

[serfmortimer]

I muste, [doth remember that self-deprecation bringeth ill to mine own mental health] plow the fields

[serfmortimer]

What doth this mean

Perfect idea: a fleshlight that kills you when you cum in it. Distributing this to men en masse!

[vlad-77]

✦ I'm not a 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦, I'm the 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 ✦

[ponderingsoflife]

I know there are a lot of fics where Dogwarts is pure evil and Grian and Scar are the good guys, and I know there are a lot where Martyn is just a man following orders. I don't think enough of them utilize the fact that Martyn is a married man with a wife and a kid and Ren could just be a king who wants to get in his pants. Or even making Martyn a widow who only works for the king to provide for his child, that Ren takes full advantage of. I present to you the following:

Ren and Martyn are the kings of an icy kingdom in the hills, not that Martyn wants to be. The widow was pulled from his wife by a greedy king and Martyn didn’t even get to be there for her when she fell ill, much less when she passed, he has two daughters, yet they are practically banned from the palace and they hold no claim to the throne (using other creators in place of the daughters because that feels more normal than writing about children we know nothing about, and honestly good on them for keeping it that way) as Ren wants that position for a child he wishes to adopt with Martyn. Martyn hates him, but as little as he sees them, he doesn’t want his girls orphaned.

Grian is an assassin, and Scar as his husband is a traveling salesman. While in the ice kingdom with the intent to kill the king, Grian and Scar see Cherri, who is about to be mugged. They save her and in exchange she treats them to a warm meal, where they learn about who the girls are, and how they hate Ren. Knowing that if they take the girls away from the kingdom they can weaken Ren by distracting Martyn, and the girls agree, wanting their father back. When Martyn gets word of this he is pissed at Ren.

Do with this what you will.

[daemon-in-my-head]

Fucking around with tyrants, shadows and undercuts. How bad could it be?

Also, this:

Brother I have no fucking idea what happened to him. He looked like Gort once. And then I revised it. And then I did it again. And then I added his new hairstyle. Anyway ig this is Skenver now and if someone wants to adopt him let me know.

[maidofhearteditz]

If stimboard requests are still open, can you do Page of Life? Thank you and I hope you're having a wonderful day!

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3833< Page of life stimboard with green, nature, medival, and drawing/art stims 0u0!

(B33< I had fun making the picmix in the middle 4 this 1 X3)

~~~~~~~

[watcher-with-burned-wings]

Changing Fate

(Double life AU in honor of the new season)

Many centuries ago, a small village lived in peace with one another. Everyone who lived in that village had a partner, except one. This one, a child in red, strolled to the local temple and prayed to the higher deities to have a destined partner. One God among the deities took pity on the girl in red, knowing the pain of loneliness. He reached down to the village, blessing each of them with a soul bound. A person who would be tethered to your very soul, never to be apart. The god reached down and kissed her forehead, a small star, and moon rested where the god kissed her.

The girl left the temple feeling ecstatic, eager to find her destined to be. What she hadn’t realized was what her prayer had done.  The god had made soul bound in the village, yes. But she was ripping lovers apart with her selfishness. As the girl ran through the town, she looked around her eagerly, seeing all sorts of marks on people, many already married couples matching. Other couples had different marks.  An agonizing cry catches her attention.

She rushes over to the market where it comes from. When she turned the corner, she saw one of her best friends on his knees, crying in his hands. His partner was walking away hand and hand with another person. She rushed and knelt beside him, asking him what happened. The boy in blue just shook his head, not understanding what happened either, looking at her with the same mark on his forehead.

The girl suddenly became enthusiastic, helping her friend up. She took his hands and explained what she did at the temple. And how the god heard her prayer and granted it. She then explained how they were meant to be together. She grinned proudly, thinking she finally had a partner.

The boy stunned for a moment, pulled away from her. With tears in his eyes, he scowled at her. He told her that they would never be together. He told her that his one true love had left him because of her. He turned away from her and stormed off. The girl was left shocked and heartbroken.

The deity watched the scene from up above. Feeling bad for the girl once again, and angry at the boy in blue who hurt her, he once again used his magic to influence the village. He decided to place a curse on those who rejected their soul bounds. Both marks blacked on the boy and girl. If one was to be alone, they both were. Everyone in the village suddenly feared the boy and girl.

The next night, both were chased out of the village.  The girl tried to apologize, desperate for her friend back, not even interested in a partner anymore. The boy ignored her as they ran deeper into the forest. The boy in blue was in the lead and not paying attention to where he was going. The forest quickly gave way to a cliff.

The boy caught up in his grief of losing his home, didn’t notice. The girl tried to warn him but was too late. The boy fell with a startled scream. The girl watched as the boy disappeared over the cliff. She fell to her knees as she felt her soul thread snap as the boy died. The girl gripped her chest as the pain overtook her and she soon died.  

Having witnessed the event, the watcher who granted the girl’s prayer declared the tale of the girl and boy as a warning to all soul bounds. Accept your soul bound with open arms, but be wary, for a broken heart will snap a bound, causing nothing but pain for both.

As the centuries passed, the village grew, people changed, and the soul bounds spread. The people had changed into hybrids due to other deity hijinks, but the soul-bound marks stayed considerably consistent. The only difference was their soul mates shared the same hybrid.  Soon the village was a kingdom where citizens gained their soul marks at the age of fifteen along with their hybrid features. Soul mates soon figured out that they could be friends or lovers if they chose.

The kingdoms of the world agreed that only soul bounds of royalty could be married to them. Soon each kingdom invited kingdoms from all over the world to join in festivals, known as the Connection Festival, as many soul bonds are made through the festivals. Much of the time a royal is soul-bound to a royal, but on rare occasions there are exceptions. This is where we will begin with our main character.

==============

As a royal knight of the Zombie Kingdom, Scott stood alongside Princess Cleo, who was one of his best friends. Scott had known her since he was three years old. He grew up in the castle, starting as a servant boy. His father was a guard before he was killed in battle. His mother had passed during his birth so as repayment, the king personally took Scott under his wing and raised him. When he was old enough, he joined the knights. So, it was only natural that he would be her guard when he graduated from the guard academy.

 Unlike most of the kingdom, Cleo was human, through and through. Scott, on the other hand, was a rare hybrid. A mix of a wolf and siren hybrid. His wolf features were more prominent than his siren part. He only had the voice of a siren. Both he and Cleo were still without meeting their soul bounds. Scott had accepted he may never know his bond and it was okay. Cleo had as well, but the king insisted that they continue to search for them.

Citizens have begun to resent the king due to his insistence. The king has begun to use tax money and lose focus on the good of his citizens. He was obsessed with finding Cleo’s soul bond. Scott had heard whispers of a rebellion. The tension in the air grew each year. Many suggested that Cleo should be brothel already due to her age. But the king wouldn’t have it.

Due to the king’s insistence, the Connection Festival was held even in turmoil.

Currently, they both were in the mists of the crowd, Cleo on her horse, wearing a dress while he stood beside her. He wore iron pants decorated with green and blue stripes. His chest plate was made from dark diamonds with the crest of the kingdom in the center, with diamond boots to match. An enchanted sword hung on his hip with an enchanted bow on his back. Ears perked for danger.

People around them were cheering as they won games, couples were smiling at each other, and new soul bonds were united. Scott couldn’t help but smile, even knowing the tension. He did love the cheer that it brought the new couples. He was harshly reminded of his soul mark that was hidden behind his bangs.

A pair of wolves howling at a moon was painted on his forehead.

Scott knew he couldn’t let his troubles distract him from his job. Glancing at Cleo, she looked bored as another far-off prince talked to her.  He snickered to himself as the human gave him a pleading expression. He gave her a little shrug then mouthed good luck. His ears twitched, and something caught his attention.

Glancing around, his eye caught a glimpse of a red cloak. A shiver went down his spine as his eyes snapped back to the spot in the crowd, but it was gone. His lips twitch as he increasingly gets a bad feeling, and his tail fur rises. The tension within him grew as people left the festival with a purpose. It wasn’t even midday yet. Cleo could immediately tell something was off once the prince left as well. He handed the reins to Cleo.

The wolf hybrid turned to her, “Go back to the castle, something isn’t right.”

 Cleo laughed in relief. “So glad it wasn’t just me.” She suddenly went quiet. “Scott…”

Turning around, he immediately noticed that they were surrounded. A group of men and women block them in, some having weapons to maim, but not kill. A girl in a red cloak stepped up towards them, clearly the leader of the group, her face obscured by her hood. A blond male approached next to her and grinned with a rope in his hands. Scott put his hand on his sword and pressed against the horse. He rumbled a warning to the people.

The leader simply giggled and said simply. “Surrender, or we’ll have to use force. And I’m not afraid of spilling a guard’s blood if needed.” She lifts her head, red eyes locked on Scott's blue.

Cleo mumbled, “You’re the Scarlet Assassin, aren’t you?��� The red-eyed girl giggled and grinned.

“We have a winner! My, they weren’t wrong about how smart you are.” She gave a mocking bow. “Sorry, Princess but the rebellion here quested my assistant in kidnapping you. Hope you don’t mind, puppy?” She said, smirking at Scott.

Snarling back, pulling out his sword, “Like heck you will, you’ll have to kill me first…” Scott glanced backward at the horse and then smirked, “Actually, have to catch her first.”

Cleo caught on to what Scott was planning and hung on as he smacked the horse's ass, causing the horse to whiny and book it forward. The horse leaped over the people blocking the path.

“Martyn, you start after her. I’ll join you in a moment.” Snapped the assassin. The golden-haired guy gave a firm nod before calling to the others and heading towards an alleyway. Soon it was just Scott and the girl. “Drop the sword and kneel.” She commanded magic in her voice.

The magic washed over Scott then dripped away as he barred his teeth at her cruelly. She seemed surprised when he didn’t follow her command. “I said, drop the sword and kneel!” She demanded more forcefully. The snarl on his face didn’t leave as he approached her with a sword in hand.

She threw down her hood and pulled out a sword of her own. Two wolf ears sat in her brunette hair as well. “How did you...” She asked as they started circling each other. Scott responds, “Singing doesn’t affect me, due to my heritage.”

She seemed stumped before catching sight of his mark. She gasped, straightening up, sword lowering. Scott took this chance to lunge at her. She managed to dodge but she sputtered, “Hang on now, let’s pause for a moment.”

Scott snarled, “Why would I do that? You just threatened to kill me a few minutes ago.” She removed her bangs, revealing an identical mark on her forehead to his. He stepped back in shock, but it made sense when she used a siren’s voice.  He glared at her, shaking his head.

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” He snapped. “Call me Scott, nice to meet you. But I must save Cleo.” He turns to leave.

He yelped as he was thrown off balance and someone grabbed onto his back. He tried to get her off him, but she hung on to his neck. “I can’t let you do that, Scott. And call me Pearl. We need her for the rebellion. Plus, you think I’m going to get away either?” She pulled him down as he struggled to breathe. “You’re going to come with me~!” She crazily laughed as he started to see black stars.

He ran backward and slammed into a wall as hard as he could. She gasps as she is crushed, loosening her grip on him. He managed to get a breath in and bit her arm. She yowled in pain, letting go fully. He threw her off him and shifted into his wolf form, ditching his armor for speed as he dashed into the alley after the others.

============

The large snow-white wolf ran down streets and alleyways, paws pounding on the cobblestone as he followed the scent of Cleo. His ears perk at the distinct sound of shouting. Snarling, Scott put on more speed. His hackle raised as he jumped onto several create and over a fence of an alleyway. He landed in front of Cleo, who was backed against the fence with the rebels surrounding her, holding her emergency knife. Her horse was nowhere to be seen.

His appearance scared most of them away from her, as he paced in front of them. Cleo immediately ran to him and got onto his back. It was an emergency plan they had prepared if something like this were to ever happen. The blond second in command, Martyn, stood in front of them. Determination in his eyes.

“I don’t think you’ll be leaving so soon,” Martyn said causally as he approached.

“And why is that? You gonna stop us?” She challenged him with a sharp glare. The human male revealed his soul-bound mark. It was an exact copy of Cleo’s, a human with wings. Scott was fed up with discovering soulmates, so he leaped forward before any of them could say a thing.

He bounded onto another pile of creates then jumped to the rooftop. Cleo held on firmly to his fur as he looked down at the alleyway, noticing the appearance of a brownish-red wolf, knowing it to be Pearl instantly.

Cleo glared down at Martyn from her perch on the wolf’s back. “You had ages to tell me! And only now you come forward, as a rebel to the kingdom, no less.” She yelled at him. “You couldn’t have approached me like a normal person!?”

The guy had the nerve to look sheepish. “Hey! I only noticed it now because of the wind moving your hair, it wasn’t my fault.” He yelled up.

Cleo rolled her eyes, “Scott, let’s go.” He couldn’t agree more with her. He gave one last woof to Pearl before running across the roof towards the castles. Scott glanced backward, relaxing a bit once he confirmed no one was chancing them, and continued home.

Once at the castle, neither of them explained the whole story. Only saying that a riot broke out during the festival. Both were dismissed once the King had heard the story. Cleo went to her bedroom, requesting to be alone for a while, needing to process the fact that her soul bond is a rebel leader. Scott let her go, needing some time to himself as well.

=============

Two days have passed since the disaster of the Connection’s Festival. Cleo was called down to the throne room early that morning. Scott was told to wait in the barracks till he was called. Scott frowned, his ears drooping when the messenger told him that. Cleo looked confused as well, Scott usually goes everywhere with her. But Scott stayed as he was ordered.

Some time passed before two guards came in, asking him to take off his armor. He complied, feeling off as he did so. Once all the armor was off, he was escorted to the throne room. The king looked at him as he entered with a neutral expression. Cleo gave him a hard expression. Then the blue-haired wolf noticed the two in chains on the floor.

Martyn and Pearl were knelt on the floor in front of the king. Both soul marks are on display. He knelt directly in front of both royals.

“Scott,” The king asked, “Did you know about your soulmate?” The royal leaned towards him.

Scott answered honestly. “I discovered who my soul mate was two days ago. I didn’t have a chance to arrest her due to protecting Cleo. I didn’t tell you due to the stress caused by the event.” He bowed down, his ears down. “I’m sorry, my liege.”

Pearl scoffed behind him as the king leaned back in his seat. “Thank you for your honesty, Scott.” He smiled down at him as Cleo looked relieved. “You may stand, my loyal knight.”

Scott stood up and moved to the side as the king looked down on Martyn. “As for you two…” He hummed thoughtfully. “You, golden hair. You’ll be married to my daughter within three months, two of those months will be spent under house arrest and teaching you proper royal education.” The king continued, ignoring Cleo’s protests, gazing at Pearl.

“I won’t be as lenient with you as I was with my daughter’s soul mate. You have caused several murders across the continent. You would be dead where you stand if I didn’t feel my godson was my own. You’ll be sentenced to the dungeons for an undetermined amount of time. Now, take her away, take the boy to the royal guest room.” The king commanded.

The knights bowed to his majesty and dragged Pearl and Martyn away.

The King turned to Cleo. “Please wait out in the hallway, I need to talk to Scott for a moment.” She nodded.

“Yes, Father.” She left. The king turned to Scott as the door closed behind Cleo.

“Yes, sire?” He asked.

The king sighed. “I want you to go down to the dungeon and talk to her for an hour each day.” Scott's hackles raised as he snapped, “What!?”

With a calm gaze, the king continued, “She is your soulmate, Scott, whether you like it or not. I want you to have a connection with her just for your health.”

Scott glared, “She isn’t my soulmate. She will never be.” He gasped as he felt the magic vibrate through him as the string leading to his chest visibly snapped, his mark blackening out.

A cry reached both of their ears and came from the hallway where Pearl came from. The king looked at him worriedly. “Are you feeling, okay?” The king inquired. Scott nodded.

“Fine. May I go?” He practically snapped at him. The king looked over his odd behavior before nodding.

Scott joined Cleo and stood beside her silently.

As the day dragged on, Scott felt himself changing. Getting more aggressive, barring his teeth more and growling. He knew this had to do with something with losing his soul bond. He had heard legends of people losing it when they denounce their partners. It was dinner time when he truly lost it.

It started as a normal dinner. He, Cleo, and the king in the dining room are all eating together. He was struggling to concentrate as this blood lust tried to overcome him. His hand twitched for his sword as he gazed into his soup. It was quiet for a while before a servant came out of the kitchen with a pitcher of water and tripped. The water spilled all over and soaked the wolf hybrid.

The last thing Scott remembered was red and Cleo’s startled yell.

=============

When Scott came to, someone was playing with his hair and his body ached, especially his back. He groaned as something shifted under him, a warm presence. He nearly fell back into the warmth. Forcing his eyes partly open, he was met with cold floors and the damp walls of a cell. The warmth under him shifted slightly. He jolted up and hissed, a headache flared up suddenly.

He looked down on whose lap he rested on and was surprised to find Pearl gazing up at him. She gave him a lazy grin. “Hey, sleeping beauty. Rest well?” She giggled.

“What happened?” He grumbled, feeling the need to touch her. Reluctantly pressing himself to her side, he relaxed immediately. Pearl gave him a surprised look and then said, “You fell into soul-broken madness and nearly stabbed a servant before you were detained and shoved in here till you regained your senses.”

“And how long was that?” he asked, looking at his clothes, noting that they were not the same as before. Guilt swelled in his heart. Pearl looked slightly guilty as she fidgeted. “Nearly a year. You were in a feral state unless you were near me. You missed a lot…”

Scott was stunned. A year? He missed a year due to soulmate madness. Are Cleo and Martyn married? Did he miss the wedding? Who protected Cleo while he was out of commission? Swallowing, “How… How…am I cured?” he asked softly.

Pearl touched her forehead to his own. “I reinstated our soul bound. It was the only way for you to get back.” He relaxed as the pulse of the soul magic shot through him. The headache soothed as well.

He gazed into Pearl’s eyes. “I’m sorry for being so careless with my words. I was upset when I broke our bond.” He informed her, “But I am gay so we can just be friends if you still want that?” He gave a sheepish smile.

Pearl smiled back. “I think I can handle that.” Scott smiled back, grateful for a second chance.

[the-siphonophore]

I'm moving in with some friends soon, and I've been fucking BEGGING them to let me do medival serf activities xD

I'm asking if I can have a little garden so I can grow potatoes and garlic, and I wanna collect dogbane so I can thrash and spin it, and I wanna buy a metal vat so I can dye it, and I want a loom so I can weave it into fabric

I already have my sewing machine so the rest of the process is set up

[nobuverse]

Anonymous said : If both Okita and Nobunaga had the opportunity to play Shogun 2: Total War right off from Steam, would they even play it?

"Ugh - I hate to say it, but we tend to play best when we play together. Nobunaga's in put in charge of the overworld management and diplomacy; and I'm trusted with military tactics. It's because-"

"Because otherwise your solution to every conflict is assassination?"

"And otherwise you get all our soldiers killed with your stupid military positioning?"

"-! It's not my fault the game can't recognize my military genius!"

[serfmortimer]

verily, this be most scandalous! oh, mine own god! i doth wish this were i

[sheliesshattered]

Sewing Projects Update

It feels like it's been forever since I posted an update about my sewing projects, despite how many projects I have planned and currently in the works. Figured it was time to fix that.

Since mid-late April I've been Normal People Sick off and on, on top of my usual Full-Time Spoonie Chronically Ill level of sick. One cold after another, with a side helping of post-viral syndrome and big cross-continent travel right in the middle of that time period, at the beginning of July. I'm slowly getting better, and have at least been able to start walking in the mornings again, but I've had to pace myself and not push myself to get through projects faster than my body can handle. It's frustrating, but it's a frustration I'm extremely familiar with.

That said, I have actually managed to complete some sewing projects this summer, after the end of my Batuu Bounding sewing craze.

In May and June I finally finished the one-piece swimsuit that I had started in the spring of 2020 for a family trip that ended up being cancelled because of the pandemic. Over the fourth of July this year my family all gathered in Georgia for the first time since then (that wasn't for a funeral), staying at some cabins in a state park with a swimming area in the lake just a short walk away, so it felt like time to finally finish that swimsuit project.

It had originally been designed to be supportive and provide good coverage while hanging out with my niece and nephews, swimming in hotel pools or going to a waterpark. My body shape is such that I haven't been able to buy a one-piece swimsuit in roughly 30 years, but I've also sewn enough for myself that I was able to draft something that fits me and provides the sort of support and coverage that I wanted. Swimming in a lake in a state park in the mountains was not nearly so demanding as water slides, and while I probably would have been fine in one of the two pieces I wear when I'm not around family, it was nice to have something I felt really secure and modest in.

I only wore it the one afternoon in Georgia and didn't get any photos of it, and since it's all black with strappy details in the back it doesn't look like much when it's just on my sewing table, so currently there are no photos of this one. If I do get a good photo of it at some point I'll post it, but for now I'm just happy that the swimsuit is done and out of my sewing area. It fits, it's wearable, it would stand up to a serious water slide. I'm happy enough with it.

The worst of my summer colds hit after we got home from that trip, so sewing in July and early August was really difficult -- but I did get two small projects done. The first was a new pillowcase for a round bolster-style body pillow I made for Jack in 2018 or so. The new case is made from the fabric of jersey bedsheets that had to be retired after acquiring too many holes. It's two circles connected by a rectangle that overlaps itself to form the opening to put the pillow inside, but drafting that pattern, cutting out the fabric, and sewing the whole thing together took weeks. But I do find it's easier to be gentle with myself when I can show slow steady progress towards an actual usable thing, so it felt good to tackle that project and hand it off to my sweetheart at the end.

While working on that, I was seriously contemplating bra alternatives that I could potentially sew for myself. My body is weird in multiple, multiple directions, most of which fight with each other in really obnoxious ways, and underwire bras have been the bloody battleground all this summer. I got to thinking about the support structure I made for my swimsuit, and how I had all that jersey bedsheet fabric on my table and the pattern for the swimsuit not yet put away. So I made myself a little bralette using the pattern pieces for the internal support structure of my swimsuit -- really just curved triangle cups gathered onto a band, with two straps running from each shoulder to the opposite side's lower edge. It's not the prettiest thing, nor my best sewing, and once again I didn't get any photos of it. But for days (or even just evening hours) when my body absolutely cannot handle underwires, it's really nice to have.

Completing those three projects made me start to feel like I could maybe tackle something larger -- like, say, some transition-weather weight jersey dresses using my Solstice dress pattern from last winter. I love that fleece dress, and it is wonderfully warm and cozy -- so wonderfully warm and cozy that I don't expect I'll be able to wear it until November at the earliest. And I always planned to make more dresses and layering pieces for that 14th century historybounding/medieval cottagecore/practical Pre Raphaelite kind of look that I described in my first post on the Solstice dress. I just got briefly distracted by Star Wars inspired sewing and then practical summer projects, but it's a good feeling to be cycling back around to this.

Since I don't quite have enough of the jersey bedsheet fabric to make a whole dress (while working around holes and fading), I started looking around some of my favorite online fabric vendors for potential fabric options. StylishFabric.com had a huge sale on 5, 10, 15, and 20 yard bolts, and I managed to pick up 5 yards each of three different colors of viscose jersey, in some of the colors I wear most often: black, navy blue, and burgundy red. They photographed lighter than they are in person, but I'm really pleased with the colors:

5 yards should get me a full-length dress with long sleeves, with more left over for additional projects (sleeveless dresses? comfy trousers to layer underneath? some other layering piece? we'll see how much fabric I actually have left over from each once the main dresses are made). Three of these comfy, 14th century inspired dresses, along with my fleece Solstice dress and whatever other layering pieces I get out of the rest of this fabric, will really provide the bulk of what I want to wear this autumn and winter, I think.

I also still have about 7 yards left of the black and gray brushed cotton herringbone fabric that I got near the beginning of the year, and used for my hooded wrap back in January. My plan was always to make an overdress out of that fabric, inspired by Viking/Norse apron dresses, probably with some sort of side lacing so that I can adjust the fit to work over different dresses. I think this fabric will go nicely with those three new fabrics, and the blue-gray of my Solstice dress:

While I was on the hunt for good fabric options online for some of the fall/winter sewing, I noticed that one of my other go-to shops, SYFabrics.com had a ridiculously good price for their burgundy silk-rayon velvet. SY generally has the best price I've seen anywhere for high quality silk velvet, and the burgundy was on sale for $13 per yard -- which, if you know silk velvet prices at all, looks more like a rounding error than an actual per-yard price.

The last few winters Jack has talked about wanting a really nice, super high quality Santa hat to wear in December. Given the price on that fabric, I asked him if he still wanted a swanky Santa hat and showed him the velvet. We ended up ordering a $1 sample just to see the fabric in person, and both really loved it -- it's soft and drapey but also feels impressively sturdy for a silk fabric, and the burgundy is a lovely rich dark color that still reads more 'red' than 'purple'. And at that price, it was hard to deny that this is going to be the year that he finally gets that dreamed-of hat.

The question, then, was just how much fabric to order. I could do a hat out of 1 yard no trouble, buuuuut my dreamed-of excessively nice festive outfit has always been a burgundy velvet dress of some sort. After discussing with Jack he encouraged me to spring for 7 yards instead of 1 yard, which would give me enough to make a dress using my Solstice dress pattern again, while accounting for the nap of velvet fabric (can't cut some pieces upside down, unlike with most fabrics). My calculations came out to 6.66 yards needed, but they only sell in full yards -- but this way I might have enough velvet left over for a hat for me too, and maybe even a few other layering pieces eventually.

And look at that! Look at that red! I can't get enough of it. I've had to restrain myself from petting it every time I see it.

The backing on the velvet is actually really nice (that's where most of the silk is -- the pile is mostly rayon with a bit of silk), much nicer than acrylic and polyester velvets. But still not quite soft enough to want against your skin, so when I asked Jack what sort of lining he would want in his Very Fancy Santa Hat, he suggested that a matching cotton flannel might be cozy. Neither SYFabrics nor StylishFabrics had any flannel that fit the bill, so I thought I'd check Amazon before going further afield -- and somehow, somehow I found an 8 yard bolt of 100% cotton flannel in the perfect burgundy color. For $18 total. From that 8 yards I'll be able to make the lining for the Very Fancy Santa Hat(s) and coordinated pajama pants for each of us, and maybe a few other things besides.

For those of you keeping track, that's now three different burgundy fabrics -- viscose jersey, silk velvet, cotton flannel -- ordered from three separate suppliers. And somehow, magically, they all match perfectly:

None of them like to photograph particularly well, so I've done some lighting adjustments on both this photo and the one of the velvet above to try to get it closer to how it looks in real life. In the above picture, the velvet is in the center, with the flannel just above it. On the left is the viscose jersey -- and in the lower corner is a 25 yard cotton voile skirt I bought a year ago that also matches perfectly. That skirt will get worn with a bunch of these projects as I finish them, just like I layered it under my Solstice dress last winter.

One other sewing project has come up just this morning, in a discussion with Jack about our desire for real silk pillowcases for skin care and hair care reasons. I don't trust the 'silk' pillowcases for sale from just about anywhere to actually be silk, but I do trust that the silk from DharmaTrading is real silk. They actually sell pre-made silk pillowcases in a prepared-for-dying white silk charmeuse, but our bedsheets are navy blue and that can be a tricky color to dye (and I've never dyed silk before). But they've got a gorgeous silk charmeuse in a color that matches our bedsheets, for less per yard than the price of possibly-not-real-silk pillowcases listed for sale online. So now I just need to figure out how much fabric I actually need and get that order moving. I'm just going to do basic rectangular pillowcases, with French seams to avoid any unraveling and to allow for machine washing, so the real challenge is just going to be fitting this project in amongst all the other things I want to make in the next ~3 months or so.

And as much as I cannot wait to start working on all these exciting projects, I first have to finish up the thing that is currently on my sewing table: an interpretation of the Lengberg Castle Bra. Between pursuing this 14th century historybounding look and needing to figure out alternatives to underwire bras, the Lengberg find seemed like a perfect project to try to tackle, back before I started acquiring all this new fabric. I've watched just about every video out there of sewists and historical costumers tackling this oddity, and read every blog post I can find on the subject, and slowly figured out my angle of attack -- using, ironically, my best-fitting underwire bra.

Drafting something to fit my body was always going to be the most difficult part of this project, but after absorbing every tactic other people have used for this my plan for draping it on myself in stages actually worked out really well. At this point I have a self-drafted 5 piece pattern derived from my adventures in draping:

I tried both the two-piece cups that are more true to the original and a three-piece cup that's more similar to my favorite bra, and found that the three-piece fits my 28J bra size much better than the two-piece, with much nicer shaping. And since I'm going with historically inspired and not in any way accurate, I decided the three-piece cup is the way to go:

Using that pattern, I cut my pieces out of a tightly-woven cotton muslin that I had on hand, and as of last night I had the front and back sewn together, the reinforcement for the side spiral lacing in place and fully finished, and the cups cut out and assembled:

When Jack saw this on my sewing table he asked if I was making "a Regina George shirt" -- referencing the scene in the (original) Mean Girls movie when they cut holes in Regina's tank top to try to shame her and she instead ends up rocking it and turning it into a trend. Fitting the body pieces of this without the bra cups yet in place resulted in something that was much more Christmas In Heaven from Monty Python's Meaning Of Life, but unsurprisingly none of that is making it onto the internet, lol.

The next step will be getting those bra cups into the circular holes in the front piece. I did a little pinning with the last of my spoons last night and realized that I'm going to need to ease in the weird convex-concave thing happening here. I draped the cups then put the front piece on over the rough draft of the cup and traced the edge of the circle, then added seam allowance, so this should all fit together. But since this is a brand new self-drafted pattern, I'm troubleshooting as I go, and this may in fact need additional adjustments at every stage along the way. But I'm transferring every little change back over to my paper pattern, so hopefully if I can get this first one working (and assuming it's comfortable to wear), I'll be able to make more of these in the future.

There's good evidence that the original Lengberg bra-thing had a skirt attached at the natural waist, and the weight of that fabric probably helped the lower edge from riding up. Waist seams do not get along with my body, so I lowered it all the way down to the hip instead. Once I'm happy with the fit of this torso section, I do plan to add a skirt of some sort to this. Probably paneled instead of gathered like the original, and I'm not sure of the length yet, but I've got enough muslin on hand for at least a knee-length skirt, probably longer if i want it.

Of course, once I've got the cups set into this, the next step will be putting in eyelets for the lacing on each side. I'm not really going for historical accuracy, but I figure hand-bound eyelets will be much more comfortable against my skin than metal grommets, lacing on both sides will give me lots of flexibility to adjust the fit as my health and weight change, and spiral lacing will be the least bulky under other clothes. So somehow I have arrived at historically accurate for my own reasons, lol. So after the cups are in, I'll handsew the eyelets and finish some of the underarm hem that I'm fairly certain isn't going to change, and then I'll finally be able to try this on for real to adjust the fit.

Depending on how much energy I have for handsewing vs sewing activities that involve more standing up, I might get started on cutting out one of the dress projects before this bra project is even done. But since I want to wear this bra project underneath all those dresses, I do want to finish it before I get too far into fitting decisions that'll be difficult to change after cutting is done.

So going through and counting all the up-coming projects in this post, I'm at somewhere between 9 and 12 projects I want to get done as soon as possible, ideally in time for the cooler autumn weather to set in and by Christmas at the latest. I've tackled huge sewing lists like this before, but usually for a con or other costuming event that has a specific deadline, and usually while in better health. There's freedom in being able to work to my own deadlines, but also a challenge in keeping myself motivated to work without tipping over into over-doing and exhausting myself.

The only thing I'm still waiting for is navy blue cotton thread that should arrive tomorrow (and, well, ordering the silk charmeuse), everything else is already on hand, which should allow me to really sink my teeth into these projects and get them wearable as soon as possible. I'm going to try to post updates here more often, so that I can document all these projects more like how I documented all my Batuu Bounding projects and everything I sewed in 2023.

[ponderingsoflife]

I made another silly little playlist, this one is for the fanfic The Race To Ebbin by Doversary Flemming, not one of my works but the work of a close friend of mine I have had the privilege of helping with.

Gem- Line Without a Hook (Ricky Montgomery)

Pearl- Pierre (Ryn Weaver)

Impulse- Just A Man (Jorge Rivera-Herrans)

Tango- Wouldn’t You Like (Jorge Rivera-Herrans)

Bdubs- It Roars (Erika Henningsen)

Scar- Inutil (Carlos Gomez)

Jimmy- Cabo (Ricky Montgomery)

Grian- Looking at Me (Sabrina Carpenter)

Mumbo- Try (Rob Rokicki)

Martyn- How Far We’ve Come (Matchbox Twenty)

BigB- What Else Can I Do? (Diane Guerrero)

Skizz- Shut Up and Dance (WALK THE MOON)

Scott- All You Wanna Do (SIX)

Cleo- Livin’ it up on Top (Amber Gray)

Joel- Fright of their Lives (Alex Brightman)

Lizzy- It Won’t Be Long Now (Karen Olivo)

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

A Kingdom of Shadows and Steel

Paring: Poly 141 x Reader

AU: (Medival) Knights!141 x Healer!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of injuries, boys assist in training their healer

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, i might make a story about this-

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The wind carried the scent of blood and smoke as you knelt in the ruins of the battlefield. Around you, the cries of the wounded echoed—some fading into silence as life slipped away, others clawing at the edge of survival. Your hands worked quickly, trembling but steady, weaving threads of healing magic into a soldier’s mangled leg. The golden glow of your power barely illuminated the grotesque wound, but slowly, the torn flesh began to knit itself back together.

“Get out of here,” you urged, your voice strained but firm. “Before they come back.”

The soldier nodded weakly, dragging himself toward the treeline where others had fled. You sat back on your heels, every ounce of strength drained. Magic always demanded more than you were prepared to give, and this battlefield—a wasteland of broken bodies and charred earth—had swallowed your reserves hours ago.

The sharp crunch of boots on gravel snapped you out of your haze. Your head jerked up, instinctively raising a hand as though you could muster another spell. A shadow loomed over you, taller and broader than anyone you’d encountered today.

“You’re braver than you look,” a low, accented voice drawled.

You blinked, your vision sharpening. A man clad in battered black armor stood before you, a half-mask obscuring the lower half of his face. His eyes, sharp and dark, studied you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

Behind him stood three others, equally imposing: a grizzled, blue-eyed man who carried himself with the weight of leadership; a younger soldier with a cheeky grin, his messy hair barely kept in check; and a man whose presence was like a shadow—silent, his face hidden behind a skull-like mask.

“I wasn’t aware the crown hired mages,” the grizzled man—Captain John Price, you realized—remarked, his arms crossed.

“They don’t,” you replied, struggling to your feet. “I’m not with the crown.”

The masked one, who had yet to speak, tilted his head slightly, his gaze pinning you in place. “Then what are you doing on *our* battlefield?”

You met his stare, unwilling to back down. “Saving lives, since you lot can’t seem to stop spilling blood.”

The younger man—Soap, if you remembered correctly—barked a laugh. “She’s got fire, eh? I like her already.”

Price’s gaze didn’t waver. “We’ll see.”

They didn’t leave you behind. Despite your protests—and your insistence that you could take care of yourself—they decided it was too dangerous for a lone healer to wander war-torn lands. Price gave the order, and that was that.

At first, their presence was overwhelming. They moved like a unit, each man fitting into the group like a piece of a puzzle. Ghost’s quiet intensity was unnerving; you often caught him watching you, his gaze unreadable. Price was distant but protective, a commanding figure who seemed to expect competence from everyone—including you. Soap, with his endless jokes and easy grin, was the only one who made an effort to pull you out of your shell. And then there was Gaz, whose sharp wit and subtle kindness chipped away at your defenses before you even realized it.

The days blurred together as you traveled. The landscape was a patchwork of desolation: burned villages, abandoned farmlands, and the occasional stretch of wilderness untouched by war. At night, the group set up camp in silence, each man falling into a routine as practiced as it was efficient.

You, however, struggled to find your place. Healing was all you knew, and while they respected your skill, you felt like an outsider. That began to change one cold evening when Soap handed you a dagger.

“You’re good with magic,” he said, twirling his own blade between his fingers, “but magic won’t save you when someone’s got steel to your throat.”

You hesitated before taking the weapon. “I don’t know how to use this.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned, positioning himself behind you. His hands covered yours as he adjusted your grip and stance.

“Relax,” he murmured. “You’re too stiff. It’s just me.”

His touch was firm but careful, his teasing tone oddly comforting. By the time the lesson ended, you were breathless—not from exertion, but from the way his laughter warmed the cold night air.

Over the following weeks, the 141 began to feel less like an obligation and more like a team. Price often joined you during quiet moments, his gruff voice softening as he asked about your past. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and though he rarely spoke about himself, the glimpses he gave you felt like pieces of a puzzle you were eager to solve.

“You’ve got the heart of a soldier,” he said one night, his eyes steady on yours. “Even if you don’t see it.”

The words lingered, wrapping around your heart like a shield.

Gaz, meanwhile, became your confidant. His sharp humor and easygoing nature made it impossible not to let your guard down. One evening, as you stitched up a tear in his tunic, he regaled you with tales of his childhood.

“Got myself stuck in a tree once,” he admitted, grinning. “Had to be rescued by my little sister. Never lived it down.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine you needing rescuing.”

“Well, we all need rescuing sometimes,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Even you.”

You looked away, his words striking a nerve you weren’t ready to confront.

And then there was Ghost. He was the hardest to read, his silence a wall you couldn’t climb. But his actions spoke volumes. He always seemed to know when you were on the verge of exhaustion, his presence grounding you in ways you couldn’t explain. One night, as you cleaned a gash on his arm, he surprised you by speaking.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he said quietly.

You met his gaze, startled. “So are you.”

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you. And in that moment, you felt something shift.

It was during an ambush that everything changed.

You were caught off guard, the group scattered as enemy soldiers descended upon your camp. You barely had time to draw your dagger before a blade was swinging toward you.

“Down!” Ghost’s voice cut through the chaos. He moved like a shadow, intercepting the attack with brutal efficiency.

The battle was over in minutes, but the fear lingered. As you sat by the fire that night, your hands still trembling, Soap leaned close, his grin softer than usual.

“You did good,” he said, his voice low. “You held your own.”

“I froze,” you muttered.

“And then you fought,” Gaz added, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder. “That’s what matters.”

You looked around the circle, meeting each of their gazes. For the first time, you felt like you belonged.

The firelight cast flickering shadows across their faces as the five of you huddled close. The tension that had been building for weeks finally reached its breaking point.

“I’m not blind,” Soap said, breaking the silence. “I see the way you all look at her.”

You froze, your heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

Gaz snorted. “Don’t play dumb. We’ve all got eyes.”

Price cleared his throat, his gaze flickering to you. “It’s true. We’ve… grown attached.”

Ghost’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s not just attachment.”

You stared at them, speechless. The walls you’d built around yourself began to crumble, the weight of your feelings crashing down.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice shaking.

“Say you’ll stay,” Price said, his tone gentle but firm.

“Say you’ll let us protect you,” Gaz added.

“Say you’ll let us love you,” Soap finished, his grin softening into something vulnerable.

Your gaze swept over them, each one looking at you with a mix of hope and fear. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face the world alone.

“I’ll stay,” you whispered.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[esmedelacroix]

𝕬 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖑 𝕶𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝕴𝖘𝖓'𝖙 𝕬𝖋𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝕲𝖊𝖙 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖔𝖓 𝕳𝖎𝖘 𝕾𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉…

pairing: crown princess!reader x knight!miguel o'hara

cw: messy period sex, unprotected p in v, size kink, blood, dom!miguel o'hara, fingering, size kink, edging kinda, dacryphilia, slight degradation kink

a/n: hey lovies, this isn't my usual content but I have endometriosis and I hate it. But period sex always helps so here. This is set in sort of medival times. Hope you like it, a like, comment, or repost is always appreciated. Let me know what you think!

wc: 2.5k

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

"Ughhhh," "UGhhhH"

"Her Highness has started her menstrual cycle," Archibald, your retiring personal knight, explained to your new personal knight in training, Miguel.

"This is a common occurrence, nothing has ever helped her Highness," Archibald continued.

"Are the doctors not equipped with the medicine needed?" Miguel asked as he heard a high-pitched wail.

"They are but Her Highness has rather odd and abnormally painful symptoms. The doctors can't figure out a cure for it," he sighed.

Miguel bit the interior of his cheek in deep thought and during his break, he decided to go to the library. He sat at one of the desks with piles of biology and anatomy books.

He didn't know any way to make himself useful to you other than to try to study your condition and perhaps figure out a way to help you.

It was hard for him to find much of anything because scientists at the time paid little attention to studying women's bodies and the female reproductive system. It's quite disappointing because women are amazing. They can create life but all male scientists care about is themselves. "What a shame," Miguel muttered to himself as he opened up another textbook.

He didn't take the time to read the cover so he was flabbergasted when he began to read the contents of the book.

He was reading a study about the health benefits of an orgasm when in pain. There are specific chemicals released when both males and females experience an orgasm.

What if these same chemicals can combat menstrual pain, Miguel thought to himself. "Miguel it's time to return to your post," Archibald said as he entered the library.

"I'll be right there," Miguel said as he organized all of his books for later.

"You were studying?" Archibald asked as he led you down the halls.

"Yes, I wanted to see if there was anything I could do for Her Highness but I don't know much about menstrual pain," Miguel sighed.

Archibald hummed in response. "If you want to help the crown princess then you will take her lunch and medicine to her and attempt to get her to eat," she doesn't like to eat or do much anything other than squirm in her bed when she is experiencing menstrual pain.

"Okay," Miguel answered as he opened the doors to your room and brought your food and medicine to you on a tray. Archibald closed the door behind him and wished him luck.

Miguel was content to see that you were asleep and not suffering. You were curled up in a fetal position with a hot compress over your abdomen. Small tears were formed at the corners of your eyes. The pain had even made you cry in your sleep.

Miguel's heart sank seeing you in such a distressed manner. He softly shook your shoulder to wake you up. "Your Highness," he started softly seeing your eyes flutter open.

"It's time for your meal and medicine," he continued. You jolted awake as your eyes adjusted to the light then turned to look at him before feeling your face heat up.

"Who dares enter my room when I am so indecent?" you asked, pulling your sheets up because you were still in your nightgown.

"Where are my manners? I'm your new personal knight, Miguel O'Hara," he introduced with a bow.

You nodded in response, allowing yourself to calm down. You stretched out your arms and sat up against your headboard. Just as you did so, you winced in pain. "My lady, are you still feeling pain?" he asked.

"Yes, I should eat quickly so I can take that medicine," you groaned.

"Yes," Miguel said as he began to cut your food for you and held a forkful up to your lips. You were rather surprised by the gesture but you weren't opposed to it. Archibald never does this for me, you thought to yourself as you enjoyed your food.

There were moments when you had to take a break because of the pain but you finished your meal in record time. After finishing the medicine you were still in tears and extreme pain.

It was enough pain to make you wail. The rumors were true though, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Your voice was soothing even when you sobbed. When tears trickled down your cheeks they only added to your beauty.

Miguel hated to see such a beautiful woman in pain. Especially when there was nothing that he could do to alleviate it. Well, there was one thing he could do. He could suggest that you touch yourself. But weren't in the state to do even that. I could give her an orgasm, he thought to himself before shaking his head.

"No, that would be out of line," he muttered to himself quietly.

"What would be out of line?" you sniffled, turning to him.

"Um well, there was one remedy for your pain that I was researching. But it would be out of line if I helped you perform it," he explained.

"Please do it for me I'll do anything to stop feeling so much pain," you practically begged.

"I'm not sure if a lowly knight like myself should help you do this," he said, trying to convince you to let it go.

"Just tell me what it is, I'm sure I wouldn't mind you doing please just do this one thing for me, Miguel," she pleaded. Miguel was going to deny once more but once his name left your lips pounding like a beautiful song, he felt he couldn’t say no.

"Well, the remedy my lady, is to give you an orgasm," he admitted as his cheeks flushed.

Your own cheeks flushed when you realized that you were basically begging your personal guard to have intercourse with you. "Oh, that's most certainly not what I was expecting you to say," you said as he averted his eyes when you looked in his direction. You weighed the pros and cons of having sex with your new personal knight. You couldn’t even believe you were thinking of sex with a palace guard.

You put your hand to your chin as you thought about it for a good minute sizing him up out of the corner of your eye. He wasn't too bad looking. He was very big, you wondered if his penis was also big.

And his face, well it was magnificent. He looked like royalty in your eyes with that handsome face of his. You could see yourself having sex with him.

“Dismiss everyone on this floor of the palace, Miguel,” You commanded. Miguel shot you a confused look.

“I’m very loud in bed, chop chop Miguel,” you whispered as another wave of pain hit you. Miguel was surprised how your voice went from a sweet soft soft-spoken voice to one dripping in sin.

He got up and stepped out to the hallway relaying your command to Archibald who had everyone on the floor you were on gone in minutes.

“Now that we have some privacy, come here,” you demanded as you winced in pain.

Miguel walked up to you as you laid back holding onto the edge of his t-shirt bringing him down with you. Your faces are inches apart. Hot breaths fanning each other's lips. "Unsheathe your sword, Miguel," you whispered looking into his hungry eyes.

Miguel stripped himself still hovering over you. The second his name left your lips, it was as if you put him in a trance. He did everything he was asked to do. He then bunched up the hem of your nightgown slowly lifting it above your legs slowly. “May I?” he asked, trying to be as gentle as possible.

You propped yourself up on your elbows letting out an exasperated sigh, rolling your eyes. “You don’t have to be so formal, I need you, to fuck this royal pussy like I’m some common whore at a brothel, that’s an order Miguel” you spat as your face contorted in pain.

Miguel was surprised by your sudden dirty unladylike language. But that went straight to his hardening dick.

He took your nightgown off with a newfound sense of urgency. He was pleased to see that you were almost completely naked underneath, still sporting your menstrual underwear, nipples hardening at the feeling of the cold air hitting them.

He wasted no time pulling off your menstrual underwear and setting it aside. You spread your legs for him to get a better view of your pussy that was now throbbing with want.

Miguel ran his index from your bloody slit to your clit picking up the moisture of your blood and slick. Pressed on your aching bud with his thumb moving it in circular motions. A long moan erupted from your throat. Your hand gripped his wrist tightly as he pushed a finger into your aching hole still playing with your clit with another.

The muscles and veins in his arms flexed and pulsated as he worked your sopping-wet pussy. He added another one of his thick fingers stretching you in preparation for his fat cock. You only looked down for a second when he took his pants off and fear struck the pit of your stomach. He was so big you weren't sure if he'd even fit. That made your sick and twisted mind even thirstier. Wanting more and more of him.

Your hands gripped his arms until your knuckles practically turned white as you tried to suppress your moans as he slipped a third finger into your cunt that was coating his whole hand in your wetness and blood. "Don't conceal it, I wanna hear you, wanna make sure I'm making you feel good," he grunted into your ear as he began to rut against the bed. He lay in between your legs focused on fucking you with his fingers.

Your blood was dripping onto the sheets, but you didn't care, you felt too good. You moaned for him chanting a mantra of his name until his name and the stretch were all you could think about. "Miguel, inside, I want you inside please," you begged.

"Oh yeah? You want this cock in your pussy?" he taunted as a smirk graced his lips.

"Yesyesyesyesyes," was all you could moan out your mind going almost blank as your legs began to shake.

"Tell me how badly you want it, show me how badly you want it," he growled into your ear as he added a fourth finger and picked up the pace.

The pleasure almost completely took you over as fat tears formed at the corner of your eyes. "I need you, inside, Miguel please, need your cock," you moaned shamelessly moving your hips against his fingers matching his speed.

You grip the sheets with one hand, the other holding onto his, as your back arches. Blood and slick gushed out of your pussy as your orgasm approached you at lightning speed. Until it didn't, and you felt the pleasure died down completely. You let out a frustrated whine letting go of the sheets. "Miggy, why," you whined almost sobbing because of the stolen orgasm.

"You said you wanted me in you, you're going to have to work for it, my lady," he said as he lay on the bed and put you on top of him with ease. You straddled him looking down at him with tears in your eyes as he grinned at you.

"Miguel please, help me," you said as you positioned your slit in line with his bulbous tip that was dripping with precum.

"Uh uh uh, you gotta do that on your own," he cooed as he whipped a falling tear from your face.

"I will be your queen soon," you said sternly.

"But right now you're my whore, now get to work, this cock isn't going to ride itself," he spat as he slammed you down onto him practically impaling you on his dick.

You took a moment to adjust to his size. The stretch was amazing. You had never felt so full and he was hitting a sweet spot. You moved slowly, then faster, then much faster. You heard Miguel let out a moan almost sounding like a whimper.

He grips your hips tightly, surely making bruises as you milk him. His eyes rolled back as he tried his hardest not to explode right then and there because of how warm, wet, and tight your pussy felt.

Helpless moans of his name were spilling from your mouth as your blood spilled onto him staining his skin and your sheets. “That’s it, princess, just like that,” Miguel groaned.

Quickly you felt your orgasm approaching, the coil in your stomach about to snap. Your legs began to feel like jelly and you felt yourself stop moving. “I can’t, Mig, help,” you whined trying to keep moving.

“You’ve been a good girl, I’ll take care of ya’,” he said as she moved your hips with his hands that rested on them fucking himself up into you.

The Lewd sound of you chanting his name and wet skin slapping wet skin filled the room. As he picked up the pace your moans became more and more high-pitched. “You’re fuckin’ me s’ good Mig,” you moaned.

“Yeah? Tell me how good I’m doin’ you,” he grunted as fucked you harder too kissing your cervix as his dick started to twitch in you.

“S’ good, love this fat cock,” you whined as you clenched him hard as your legs shook violently.

“Cum with me baby,” he grunted as he pumped himself into you.

“Cumming, I’m gonna cum,” you whined as you creamed around his cock making a mess of him only being able to think of him and utter his name.

Miguel continued to fuck into you elongating your orgasm as he released his hot, thick, cum deep into your womb. You collapsed on top of him panting and trying to catch your breath.

You slowly slid out snuggling into his side. “Sorry, about the mess,” you started, gesturing to his half-soft member that was coated with your blood.

“Oh, no worries Your Highness, a real knight isn’t afraid to get blood on his sword,” he stated.

“I suppose that is true,” you replied, giggling a bit.

“So how is that menstrual pain?” Miguel asked as he caressed your bare back and planted small wet kisses into your neck.

“Honestly, I forgot I even had it, I guess it’s gone, I mean, you made me feel so good,” you sighed breathlessly.

Miguel slowly got up covering you with your bed sheets. “I’ll go ahead and run you a bath my lady,” he said as he prepared your towel, shampoo, and bath salts.

“Thank you, Miguel, I wouldn't be so opposed to you joining me,” you chirped.

“Oh, I do not wish to impose-“ he started before you cut him off.

“That’s an order, Miguel,” you whispered, with a small smirk playing on your lips. You were nowhere near done and neither was he.

"You little minx," he hummed as he disappeared into the bathroom.

. . .

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

[fairyleiii]

oh shoot I send my ask early by accident uh if I wasn't on anon please just screenshot the ask! my main blog is sfw and I have friends and family who know the blog so I don't wanna end up exposing myself! Also I didn't manage to send in the full ask I'm so sorry but I really liked your konig fic and if you don't mind writing for Konig again, could you possibly do an NSFW fantasy or medeval au with him? King konig is always fun but knight konig would be interesting as well! If fantasy or medival stuff isn't to your liking A fic with cockwarming would be nice too! If you're okay with that of course! so sorry for all my fumbling!!

✧˖*°࿐ knight konig x royal reader note: hi bb anon!!! ur so cute and dont say sorry for fumbling ily! I’ve never written medieval au before, but I tried just for you!! sfw for now just because I’m not familiar writing medieval sex lol but I’ll get there. for now, just a blurb. 

knight!konig that’s all stoic and closed up regarding every aspect of his life ... except for his feelings about you.

it’s really quite scandalous, a mere knight and a well-respected royal such as yourself, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck

he’s your personal knight, at first you butted heads, believing you didn’t need some big-headed buffoon such as him guarding you 24/7

however, when you said that to him, he didn’t simply grunt in response like all the other guards before him, his armour made an awful ruckus as he hinged forward, leveling his helmeted face with yours and let out a boisterous laugh, genuine and from the chest.

before that moment he had simply stood watching you constantly, with that signature smirk and a straight, rigid back

you had almost jumped in fright from how loud and sudden it was, unexpected too.

he was known for being brutal and ruthlessly mean on the battlefield, but you bring out that spark of kindness in him.

after that, you began to joke with him more and more, in an attempt to hear that laugh again, and he always gives you what you want.

[gammagoop]

look at pictures of the clothes people wear. thats like so simplistic but it does help!! get a sense for different styles and where those styles come from and what groups they are popular in. would this person wear tradgoth clothing? or japanese streetwear? or a medieval gown? or polo shirts and turtlenecks? think about your subject buying their clothes, and think about how their setting might affect that

also its very helpful to know different styles of garments. the names of different types of overcoats— bomber jacket, duster, flannel. how skirts are sewn with different folds ; the thousands of shoe types

here’s some helpful images!

create pinterest boards, observe people from real life, take note of costume designs in movies. i’m not an expert on drawing outfits by any means, but these are things that really help me :D

edit: there’s not always a universal term for a certain style of clothing, so it can sometimes be tricky to find what you’re looking for.

also, i just noticed that one of the shirts in one of the images is labeled with a word that has a history of being used to discriminate against romani people. i took these images from a tweet i had saved without inspecting them too closely so i hope that doesnt bother anyone too much! i will try to look closer in the future!

@ people who are good at designing interesting outfits how do you do that Slash genuine