#1400 armor

[being-the-bad-guy]

All patched up and polished.

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Helmet, 1400-1500, Northern Europe.

[smbhax]

“All Saints' church, Laughton, anachronistic re-used monumental brass made circa 1405, of a knight wearing the style of armour worn at the Battle of Agincourt (1415), with Gothic-style canopy, serving as ledger stone for the remains of William Dalison[7] (died 1546), who lived well into the Renaissance age when the taste for the Gothic style had long passed.”

[bitch-pants-mccrabbyy]

[rancid-references]

[iuchamjohta]

Leave these woman alone ft Yuna

1400 words

Notes: Hi anon thanks for your request, since it’s sent through the request box 😊 here’s a story dedicated for you. Also I will do Yuna justice with a better fic eventually don’t worry! (Yes this is a mix of shade and partial smut i guess) Did'nt proof read this thing cause it aint worth my time. For those who wants to read for the smut you can ignore the first two and last two paragraphs they arent for u but specially for my dear requester XD

First person POV of anon:

My name is Anon. I work a standard 9-5 job and have been doing so for 30 years. I’m a single and have never dated. Everyday I get scolded by my boss but I turn a deaf ear to it , just going through the motion of my routine life. Things however get exciting once I get home. I can induldge in my deepst darkest fantasies.

You see while on the surface, I'm a white knight in shiny armor, beneath that, I'm a self-righteous hypocritical man, living a double life. I've got an entire collection dedicated to Yuna, my ultimate bias, stashed away in a folder on my laptop, hidden deep within a secret folder, safely encrypted with a password only I know. It's my little haven, my sanctuary—a place where I can indulge in my wildest fantasies, free from judgment. I mean, who doesn't have their celebrity crushes, right? But for me, it's more than just a crush. Yuna is my fantasy. She's the one who makes me question my self-control.

The room is dimly lit, perfect for what I have in mind. I pull up a recent fancam from her solo performance.. There she is, in a low-rise jeans that showcased her hourglass figure, strutting across the stage with sheer confidence. The camera zeroes in on her for a solo performance, the lucky bastards in the audience probably have no idea how fucking lucky they are. Her eyes glint with confidence, as if seducing me and sending a wave of anticipation through my body. I bite my lip, feeling my dick twitch in anticipation. It's one of those days when I crave a release, a day dedicated to worshipping her perfect body.

Yuna is everything I want and more. Her magnetic aura draws me closer to the screen as she seductively sways to the music. Every curve of her body is sculpted by the gods themselves. I zoom in, wanting to explore every inch of her, starting from her face. Her huge eyes, her full lips that always look succulent, begging for me to take them. Her skin, pale in complextion that glows under the stage lights. I'd kill to know what she smells like, if she tastes as sweet as she looks. Her long legs they begged to be worshipped.

Her hair, cascading in soft waves, frames her face, occasionally whipping her forehead as she moves, making my fingers itch to run through it, to feel its silkiness between my fingertips. Her crop top reveals just the right amount of skin and her incredibly sexy midriff. They hug her chest tightly. I imagine pinching those rosy nipples, already knowing from countless fantasies that they'd harden instantly. The thought sends a jolt of lust straight to my cock.

The camera follows her every move, and she's teasing the fans mercilessly. She bends down, the low-rise jean - hugging every inch of her toned thighs and plump ass, highlighting the perfect hour glass figure. God, her ass! It's a work of art, rounded and firm, a sight that has me gripping my cock, stroking slowly as I imagine sinking my face into that soft flesh. The way she reveals her cleavage, The way her muscles flex under those jeans makes my mouth go dry. She knows what she's doing, the little tease. Each flick of her hips is a silent invitation to something forbidden.

As the song progresses, so does my hand on my shaft. I can't stop picturing her riding me, those long, toned legs wrapped around my waist. Her abs clench and relax with each provocative move, the sight alone nearly pushing me over the edge. The sweat glistening on her skin, the way it would feel slick under my palms as I hold her hips, grinding into me, fuck, it consumes me. I want to be the reason for her sweat, for her moans.

The performance builds up, and so does my pace. My breathing quickens, mirroring her heavy pants as if we're in sync. I can imagine the lust matching my own as she moves her hair behind her back, giving me a perfect view of her slender neck and the pulse point that makes my mouth water. A collarbone looks so defined and my hands would look so fucking perfect there, pushing her down unto my cock. My cock twitches, the thought of owning this goddess in the bedroom flooding my mind. I want to see her—no, I need to see her submissive side, her begging for more, on her knees, her pretty eyes pleading for me to take control.

I can't resist the urge anymore. I pause the video at the part where she's bending forward offering an eyeful of her cleavage and a hint of her flat stomach. The image fills the screen,  letting me examine every detail. From her perfect breast that I imagine running my tongue all over, to her navel, a shallow indent, a tempting destination for my tongue. I'd work my way downward, hearing her whimpers as I trace patterns on her sensitive skin, marking her with love bites along the way until I reach her wet core. With my other hand, I reach for the lube, needing more sensation. I coat my fingers and continue imagining my tongue's path, heading south past her navel to the place she craves attention. I'd tease her, running my fingers through her wetness, finding her clit, driving her wild. And when she's close, I'd sink two fingers into her, feeling her heat, her tightness, while I suck on that perfect neck, leaving my mark. Her moans would fill the room, echoing off the walls, telling me she's mine.

But, Yuna she's a master at denying satisfaction. The clip cuts just as I can see her biting her lip, probably holding back a moan. That's when my stroking gets wilder. I jerk off fiercely, imagining her on all fours, that ass in the air, begging for my cock. In my mind, I'd stand behind her, taking in the view before delivering hard thrusts, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. She loves rough, I know that much. I want to spank that ass, watch it jiggle with each impact, watch her pussy squeeze my dick, milking me.

"Fuck, Yuna," I groan, my vision blurring as pleasure spikes. I see her looking over her shoulder, those eyes half-lidded, knowing she's craving it harder. In my fantasy, I'd tug her hair, making her submit, taking her like an animal. I increase the pace, my balls tightening, then I would reach my peak, exploding with sensation. I come violently, coating my hand and the screen, wishing it was her that I coated instead.

Panting, I lean back, my heart hammering in my chest as I relish the aftermath. The image of her winking at the camera as she says her farewells plays in my head, and I know I'll be back for more—she's my addiction. Cleaning up, a satisfied smile on my face, I wonder if she has any idea the effect she has on me, if she knows she just gave me the best fucking handjob ever. Little does she know, this 'nobody' behind the screen is more than willing to show her how good it could be in reality.

Maybe one day, she won't just be a fantasy, but until then, I'll keep worshipping her on my screen.

Then with this guilty pleasure, I find the need to claim her as mine and "protect" her. Going unto forums, I tell myself I have to put back on my knight in shiny armour image! Telling everyone else to leave all these woman alone especially Yuna.

To me pornography is okay, I have fapped to many of it, nor do I see the need to email all these pornographic companies on what they are doing though more damaging is wrong. Other sexual fantasies are okay, but when it comes to others fantasising about my idols, I have to be defensive since they are my life even though I would never reach them. This is me, a double standard hypocritical white knight, a nameless nobody in my life. Nonetheless, this secret is safe with me, and as long as I live, I shall continue to remain self-righteous on the outside while indulging in my secret fantasies.

Thanks for your request once again! Yes me being an internet troll, anyways not the best smut I have written I apologise. Okay fuck now I actually need to do justice by releasing a proper Yuna fic . Please send ideas for req on Yuna guys a one time offer that the best idea gets it’s fic written on her.

[m3dieval]

You seem to know a bit about armor. Do you have any cool facts about armor made for amputee knights? Or was that even a thing?

There was Götz von Berlichingen and his iron hand (16th century).

Image source

You'd probably like this article: "He remembered that he had once seen another injured knight wearing a prosthetic hand and using it ‘to fight as well as anyone else’. Feeling inspired and once again hopeful about his future as a knight and mercenary, he quickly seized upon this idea and commissioned a prosthesis of his own."

↑ I checked out the author and she wrote her PhD on "The Material Culture of Physical Impairment: Assistive Technology in the Late Medieval West, c.1400-1600" so she seems like a good scholarly source. It's a bit generous to call the 16th century medieval, but I'm betting that was an SEO compromise (see: corset discourse).

pursuingtheknightlyarts is a reenactor who also happens to be missing a leg. He just wears the armour as normal and doesn't bother with a greave on the one side. This also seems like a reasonable solution.

[whereserpentswalk]

Like to give your creature a pat on the head. Reblog to get them to come to you. Tag your friends to increase their power. Look under the cut to see what it's like to meet your creature.

The vampire: She first comes to you as a shadow entering your room but takes fleshy form as she comes to the seat of your bed, wearing men's clothes from centuries ago. Though she is not of this world anymore you can tell that she once was human, even if such humanity is long forgotten. Her mouth shifts, from something massive and monstrous, with many fangs and moving parts, to something more humanoid, though still with sharp steel fangs in place of teeth. She sings to you and old forgotten song, of gods only spoken about by humans in taboo whispers, and fleshes you look of her ever-young bright red eyes. You begin to harmonize, your voices meeting as equals, as she begins to rest on your lap, and let herself be pet like a cat. You feel the shape of her body, it's so cold. She begs for your blood in song, and you give it to her as you pet her head, her mouth opens up to its monstrous size again, but she's so loyal and submissive as she drinks from your hand, like a bird eating right out of your palm.

The ghost: The room fills with red, as red and a blood moon, and red as a fresh beating heart. Spirits rise and you see something ancient lash towards you, hir hands like a mantis's claws, hir face like a skull yet featureless save for two dark eyes, hir red body covered in bug like limbs and tentacles and shimming egg cases. Sie turns hir head to look at you and sie rushes at you like a deadly predator but passes through you, eldritch ghostly wires wrapping around hir like chains to pull hir back to you as sie bows, defeated, begging with only a look not to be banished. You're not sure if sie is terrifying, pathetic, or honorable, but as you put your hand out sie seems somewhat honored to be allowed to stand up. You wonder what sie's thinking but you don't think to ask, it's only barely dawned on you that such an inhuman creature has a mind like yours, that sie is sentient, that hir race was much like yours when they were still alive. You just look at each other for a good amount of time, not sure who is more powerful.

The angel: They first come to you in an empty subway station, the ruins on the ground barely keeping you safe from them. Yet they look forlorn, like they would not have the energy to hurt you. Their form is pale and ghostly, white and colorless, the only mark of brightness being the blood that stains their hands, and wings. Chains weight down their slender body, as a veil hides their face. For a small moment they spread their six great wings, showing you their true size and power even in their cursed state. Eye sockets open for you for a brief moment, all over their body, all of them empty. Terrifying as they are none would deny that they are in great pain. You reach your hand out and gently whisper "it's ok" as they slow down and look at you as if they have not seen such sympathy from a creature in a long time. They extend a hand for you to hold, and you grab it, pet it for a slight moment, and you can feel a long dead fire seep through your veins. "It's ok." "It's ok."

The faceless woman: Deep beyond the city limits, where no light shines save for the stars, you see her, spiderwebs and shadows her friends, and faeries and dead gods her masters. She looks like a human at first, tall and long haired, in a ragged suit that covers her flesh. But then you see her head, and where her face could have been there is only a black pick, a hole that no normal human could survive to have. It looks at first like the void is of pure darkness, but inside it you have catch a glimpse of countless teeth like a lamprey's. She seems to laugh though she has no mouth, amused that a human would think to approach her, but you approach her even more, wondering what she even is. She suddenly gets excited as she sees something in your eyes, sees that you won't back down. You offer her some raw meat, a sign of good will, as you put it in her hands, she consumes it by causing it to melt into dust in her hands. She looks at you, as an ally, an accomplice, if she could, she would have smiled.

Paladin: She stands before you, bowing strangely, so submissively, though she's so obviously strong enough to rip you apart. It's strange to think this creature is actually in your room, that she's actually yours, that she was once a human like you. You can see where the plate and chain is fused to her neck, her hands eternally attached to her sword and flintlock, her eyes looking up at you wish a strange sadness. There's blood on her face and hair that will never wash out. As you come closer she seems afraid of you, like you could ruin her in ways that she could never hope to ruin you, despite her power and prowess. You ask if you can pet her head and she nods, you aren't sure yet if she could speak to you if she wanted. When you so gently pet and stroke her face and hair, she seems so happy, so happy to have someone treat her in such a way. You tell her that she's doing well, that she did a good job, it seems like she needed to hear that.

Autumn faerie: He looks down at you from the tome that he walked out of the world around them blackened until he's all that you're able to see. A smiling mask rests on his face, and far more cover his body, the only clothing on his strange body, almost human, almost extremely not human, bright wings sprouting from the flesh of his back. He looks at you, studying you, like he already knows so much about you but now he finally gets to see you. Is he impressed? He at the very least seems as if he's satisfied. He hands you a mask, you don't know how, but it looks like you, not literally, it looks more like an animal then a human, but it looks like your true face, like just as you summoned and bound him with his true name, he gets this from you in his return. You put on the mask, the deal is signed at it rings with pleasure, you'll never be the same again.

Harpy: You first see zir on a fire escape, the lights of the buildings around zir shining like stars against the starless night sky. You can only see zir eyes at first, shining gold against the darkness of zir body. But you call zir into your apartment with a forgotten tongue and watch a ze lands near you, so very alien but so very close. Zir body is marked by feathered wings, and zir form are like a bird's from the waist down, blue and white and gold as if they were painted, you can tell zir body was crafted directly by the gods themselves. You call upon zir with a song long forgotten and wondered what the look in zir eyes means. Though ze is beautiful ze has taken lives, and though ze is humanlike in some regards to zir shape, zir movements are so alien. You let zir carry you, and it feels strangely good to be held, and let zir fly with you, above the city streets, looking down at things most will never see, at birds and clouds flying past you, and at the world below, so many people, and somehow you feel safe with the wind rushing past your hair.

Incubus: You see him, sitting in an empty office building. His humanoid form is slender and short and more pretty than he is handsome, the only reason you think of him as male being his flat chest. You can he's now human from the raven's wings and scorpion's tail on his back, the branching horns and snakes for hair on his head, his sharp teeth and the stars shaped pupils. The clothing he wears is loose and comfortable, as if it was chosen in a state of depression. You expected more confidence when you summoned him. He backs away from you afraid, afraid of what you'll do to him. It looks like monster hunters got to him before you had a chance to, he's lucky to even be alive. You set out some rat's souls for him to eat so he'll trust you more, and you assure him that it's ok, that he's safe. He starts crying a bit as he looks at you, and after he finishes eating you offer to hug him. He lets you and you feel his body be surrounded by your arms. He's afraid but enjoying the affection so much as you assure him again that you won't hurt him.

Golem: They sit by you in abandoned mall, displaying so much power as they move steel pipes to the side to get closer to you. Their strength mired by the way even the smallest rip seems to be something them need to avoid. You look at them, their body so perfectly created, like human sized origami, the letter of life on their head being the only thing that marks their pure white paper body. You ask them to follow you, but they won't follow, a single puddle blocks their path, no obstacle for you, but even a being of their power has weaknesses. You slowly clear it, putting objects you can find over the puddle until finally they can follow you out into the light, still afraid of the sky you hand them an umbrella, just in case...

Undead: You first see him in a dark alleyway that the sun cannot meet him in. You wonder how many dimensions he's been to, how many dimensions he's been from, before he got here. He looks at you with three eyes of different colors. Skin stitched together across him, of different colors and textures and levels of rot, clothing resting on him from several different lives. He chatters, first in one voice asking where he is, where he could be. Then another voice questions you, wondering who you are, why you'd want to see him. Another voice looks at his own face in a piece of shattered glass and screams in terror. For a moment you think he'd attack, you're not sure if the spell would protect you. But he doesn't, he just looks at you for a while, confused perhaps. You ask him if he wants to follow you, and he seems to. Within his storm of countless voices, he decides to ask you, almost with all at once, "who am I." After thinking for a while you decide to answer, "You're you."

Demon: You stand in a closed down amusement part, the sea beside you shining like in the moonlight as he rises out of the water. He's massive; larger than you expected. His body a pale white as he rises out of the newly boiling water, his three heads eat long and sharp toothed like an alligator's, his eyes as red freshly cut meat, seven tattered wings on his back expanding to nearly cover the sky. He laughs, you're not sure how sadistic or how genuine it is considering the unreadable expressions of his reptilian heads. He charges at you with his teeth gnashing and blood pouring out of each of his mouths. But the spell blocks him like a shield made out of the air. As he fails to attack you more, he becomes frustrated, then tired, and rests on a rollercoaster. He seems to respect you knowing you were able to bind him like that, and regardless of if he likes it or not, he's yours now.

Shapeshifter: She slowly walks towards you out from the tunnel, she experiments with forms to see how you react; a small white kitten, a robotic humanoid woman, a long-haired demoness, a woman made out of blue slime. You can tell she's seen a lot of creatures before, that you're not her first master, she's known vampires, and werewolves, and demons in her time. It doesn't seem like many of them have been kind to her. You call to her and bring her closer with your magic. Slowly you watch her, you just wait as she changes her form, getting more experimental with the bodies she's willing to take. You just look at her, letting her be herself, letting her show you her art. Eventually she settles on something that feels like herself, something that she can be comfortable following you home with.

[thelien-art]

Hey my dear!

I was thinking about the Rohirrim. Our beloved horse people and..

I had such a crush at Éomer when I first saw the movies.

So I would love to see some Rohirrim fashion maybe modeled by Éomer ❤️

And one or two hc would make my day!!

You can get both Éomer and Éowyn as models :)

As decedents of Haleth, whose people´s clothes I draw with the Mongolian empire 1206–1368 as inspiration, I think they have some elements from the first age, mostly seen in their jewelry and accessories (coats, hats, etc), otherwise, I draw my inspiration from a mix of 1300-1400 medieval and Anglo-Saxon fashion.

Their armor is lamellar leather with some iron pieces, usually hidden under the leather.

While this is a depiction of daily wear a more formal dress would be something like Éowyn wears here, while something for hotter weather would be something like this.

Depicted: a beaded bronze and gold headdress, a bronze and gold earring with beads and horse hair, a link of a bronze belt, two golden necklaces with gems.

[autumnmobile12]

All right, here's the thing about the Todoroki fire-users.

Most forms of glass melt at a temperature of 1,400°C to 1,600° C.

Orange flames have a range of 1100°C to 1200°C.

So unless either of them can exceed the 1400°C threshold and get into the white flame range (1300°C - 1500°C), Shouto and Endeavor cannot melt glass.

But with a blue flame that burns 1,400°C-1,600°C, this bitch sure can.

So now that in the Ambush Simulation AU I've revealed Nine and his entourage are the LoV, imagine the opening scene of Heroes Rising:

Whichever henchmen they've hired to transport the cargo in that car chase scene are careening down the highway, the Pros are in pursuit...and so's the Vanguard.

Car accidents caused by the fleeing villains have put Rock Lock and company out of commission, but Shimura's motorcycle can maneuver through just fine, so he and his passenger are still in the game like it's a Greek chariot race. Nobody really knew the Vanguard was going to make an appearance, nobody knows how they got the info on what was happening, but hey, they're provisionally licensed and can operate under Pros now, so no one's going to complain about the extra manpower on their side.

So my thoughts and prayers are with the poor driver of the armored vehicle whose sole job is to focus on the road. He just wants to survive the night without getting arrested, his comrades can worry about the Pros behind them, he's more concerned about the Pros blockading the road in front of them, one of whom is Endeavor. He's not paying attention to that loud thunk he heard on the roof.

Things are already looking a little sticky...

...and then this crazy bastard appears in the windshield and starts melting the glass. Not breaking it; it's too thick to break without a weapon. Just slowly melting it so the poor guy has enough time to contemplate and regret some key life choices.

(There's a very specific image in my head here and it's the drowned corpse scene from the anime Ghost Hunt if anyone's familiar with that one.)

Anyway, the getaway driver just panics and veers over the guardrail and down the mountainside as it goes in the film, which pretty much leaves Shimura to stop his bike and stare alongside Endeavor down at the path of destroyed vegetation in horror as the sound of screeching metal fades to silence.

Shimura: ....

Endeavor: .... *slowly turns to look at Shimura*

Shimura: *doesn't look up* Hey, don't look at me. You created that monster.

...

And recall that scene ends with Endeavor heading down the hill to investigate the crash and finds Hawks already there:

Touya: What's the situation with my leg? It feels like it's either been broken or impaled.

Hawks: Actually, it's both. That's an...impressive compound fracture.

Touya: All that and I only got a busted leg? *sits up* Oh, no wait, fuck, there's two of you and Endeavor's multiplying.

Endeavor: *fed up* ....scared me to death, you shit for brains. Where's the League?

Hawks: I think they managed to warp out at the last minute. Genius here is the only body I found breathing or otherwise.

Touya: *cackling* Shut the fuck up, Feathers!

...

Shimura: You have got to stop smiling like you regularly devour the souls of small children and their pets.

Touya: *adrenaline wearing off, pain finally setting in* I have no idea what you're talking about.

Rock Lock: *standing over both of them* Exactly what was your plan back there?

Touya: Obviously, I was thinking I could get control of the steering wheel. Not my fault the driver had the nerves of a dandelion. Also, I'm not the one who thought chasing down an armored vehicle with four-door sedans was a good idea, so why I am the only stupid one here? Now everyone be quiet, my head is splitting and I just suffered the indignity of being carried away from an accident by my father.

Endeavor: Carrying you was easier when you were four.

Touya: The last time you carried me is when I was four!

[iamsherlocked-1998]

SAND AND PROMISES

Warning: Description of wounds, slavery, fighting, difficult relationships at the time. Male x Male.

Words: 1400

Summary: Acacius have his most important Battle.

✿ ----------- ✿ ---------------✿

In the heart of Rome, amid the grandeur and splendor of the great empire, his status stood tall and proud, a symbol of power and authority. As a prestigious general, Acacius's name echoed through the halls of history, a testament to his prowess on the battlefield and his unwavering loyalty.

But behind the facade of the imposing warrior lurked a series of unanswered tribulations, a soul that longed for something more than the thrill of conquest and the reward of victory. And it was at that moment that fate intervened, in the form of a lone man who caught Marcus's eye and caught his attention. He was young and trapped in a long book in the sunlight next to the local agora.

At first glance, the boy was nothing special, a mere footnote to the greatness of Rome and the epic stories of its warriors. But to Marcus, he was something more: a riddle to solve, a mystery to unravel, a heart waiting to be claimed.

As their paths crossed more and more, Marcus was drawn to the scholar's quiet strength and his unbreakable spirit. He marveled at the depth of his insight, the breadth of his knowledge, and the quiet grace with which he carried himself through the tumult of the city.

Soon, the two found themselves united by a shared passion for life, a connection that burned bright and fierce, defying the boundaries of time and class. And in that bond, they discovered a new meaning for the thrill of conquest, a new purpose that transcended aspirations for power and prestige.

Together, they wandered shoulder to shoulder through the streets of Rome, their heartbeats ringing in unison. They shared the joy of abundant festivities and the warmth of close-knit friends, but also the trials and challenges that marked the city's tumultuous history.

That was until one day when he returned from a long trip he couldn't find his partner in any of the places he used to frequent in his predictable routine, it was as if he had vanished and Marcus felt a knot in his stomach.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

After a few months, in the heart of the Colosseum, the deafening roar of the crowd filled the air, mixed with the clash of steel and the screams of combatants engaged in mortal combat. Contrary to the worst predictions of him among the gladiators who graced the arena was himself, a fearsome Roman general who had exchanged his armor for the garb of a warrior, his sword glistening in the sun as he faced his opponents with unwavering determination.

But unbeknownst to viewers, Marcus fought not for glory or honor, but for something far more precious: a chance to win freedom from the only person who had made him feel alive in a long time, a slave bound by the shackles of servitude by the whims of cruel fate. It turned out that weeks after tirelessly investigating, he learned that his companion was sold in a town on the outskirts of Rome as payment for the debts of a father who was too negligent and fond of liquor. He finished off such a subject using a dagger when night fell in the middle of an alley, taking advantage of his drunkenness.

That was not enough since the new owner of his lover made him an offer to cover the losses, use his skills for the macabre spectacle of the coliseum, only then the debt would be settled and he would become a freedman. As the surface of the sand became slick with blood and sweat, Marcus's thoughts drifted to the slave, whose tormented gaze and unspoken longing had lit a fire within him, something that burned brightly with the promise of redemption and salvation.

With each opponent he defeated, Marcus came closer to his goal, each blow fueled by the memory of a fading smile, a soft, fleeting touch, and experiences that now seemed like a distant echo.

But the road to freedom was fraught with danger, tinged with betrayal and deceit. The boy's master, a ruthless noble, watched the battle with contempt, narrowing his eyes maliciously at the thought of losing his prized possession.

As the final battle loomed on the horizon, his entire existence hung precariously on the outcome of the brutal contest that awaited them both. With the weight of what he believed right on his shoulders and the courage of his convictions burning in his heart, he faced his final opponent, a towering gladiator whose strength and skill matched his own.

In a searing duel that echoed in the annals of time, Marcus and his adversary clashed with a ferocity that shook the very foundations of the arena. But it was in the heat of battle that Marcus found his true strength, each of his blows guided by the unspoken vow that bound them together in defiance of all odds.

And in the final, fateful moment, when the dust settled and the victor stood triumphant, he laid aside his sword and turned to the noble who held the boy's fate in his hands. With a voice as firm as steel and a gaze as unwavering as the sun, he demanded the reader's freedom in exchange for his victory, with his unwavering resolve in the face of the specter of defeat. Otherwise, he would shake up the foundations of the empire to take away all of its present and future possessions.

At that moment, the noble relented, his grip on the reader loosening as Marcus stepped forward, arms spread wide in a gesture of release and salvation. And as the chains of his lover fell, his eyes filled with gratitude and wonder, his heart beat with a joy that resonated through any doubt or suffering.

Together, they walked out of the Colosseum, as they gazed at the setting sun, whose rays cast a golden glow over the city of Rome, knowing that what they had was destined to last: a flame that would burn brightly.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ───── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

-You shouldn't have done that…now we are both condemned, we have nowhere to go (the former slave caressed the general's cheek, appreciating his irregular beard with a melancholic smile).

Both had stopped along the way at a dilapidated inn, the only place where they could shelter to sleep and clean up for the moment. The moon had illuminated the space for some time.

The man made a gesture of annoyance, clenching his teeth. His depp voice fulled the little room.

-We've already talked about it, I couldn't leave you there without doing anything, that heartless man would have finished you off.

Acacius sat up with difficulty due to the bruises and scratches of the battle, the thin sheet was removed allowing his athletic body to be observed in all its splendor. Clothes had stopped being important to both of them hours ago.

With his fingers he traced the healed scars on the back of his lover, who lay face down on the smelly, hay-filled mattress.

The young man sighed, trying to control his tears at the softness of the gesture while he nodded.

-We have no possessions but we do have information and I know that there is a place to start over outside of Rome, I know someone who will give us asylum in the meantime and we can get a job. The trip will be long and hard, we have to use a boat and be stowaways, but who we are will no longer matter.

He sat up, joining his lips to those of his savior in a feverish kiss as straddled his lap, his hands drifting to the nape of his neck, feeling the soft curls found there. The options were limited and dark and the path uncertain, but freedom never tasted so good.

[babybatss-blog]

OH MY GOODNESS I LOVED UR SAM FICS, PLEASE WRITE ONE ABOUT LIKE HIM X READER IN THE FALL SHARING FLANNELS AND SWEATSHIRTS

BEGIN AGAIN

stardew!sam x reader, 1400 words

a/n: ahhhh omg you’re so sweet! Although it isn’t that important to the story, I based this fic on “begin again” by Taylor Swift. Hope you enjoy!

cw: predeveloped relationship between Sam and reader, confession of love. Mention of adult sexy time 😉 but nothing explicit. Slight angst into sickly sweet fluff. Reader is insecure, with mentions of past relationship and friendship struggles.

You tried to deny it, you really did. But walking hand in hand through town on a cold fall day the realisation hits you that you are inexplicably, irreversably in love with Sam. You’ve been together for a few months now, but honestly it was only really a casual relationship built on messy hookups and an innate need for physical affection. And even if Sam thought it was anything different you never intended to get very far with it after the last few years of your life. You escaped to Stardew valley to forget men, with their stupid player attitudes and outlook on relationships. Truthfully, you were perfectly happy with just becoming some single weirdo for the rest of your life. But this golden retreiver of a man just makes you so happy, blushing like a school girl and heart racing faster than ever before.

The mere thought of how down bad you are for him causes a shiver down your spine, and not just some small one but one that makes you physically shake. “Cold?” He asks, looking down to you with his bushy eyebrows furrowed. Without another word he takes his flannel off and wraps it around your shoulders, patting them with his big hands and grinning like a buffoon before holding your hand once more.

Honestly you didn’t even need it, but the way he thinks he’s some sort of knight in shining armor always stops you from protesting. You arrive at the town’s playground, a shabby swingset attached to a slide that’s cracked and rusted at the joints. It sure isn’t some masterpiece, but it does the job of entertaining the town’s children on the weekends. And Sam apparently, who lets go of your hand and leaps onto the swing. The scoots back in order to get enough momentum as possible and flies into the air, his blonde mop of hair flying off with him.

“Woo!! Join me?” You just chuckle, but join him nontheless, swinging much softer than he is but with the same pleased expression. The two of you swing in silence for a bit, with him enjoying the moment and you dreading it. How could you have let yourself go back to your old ways? It may seem great now, but in your head you already can see him confessing to cheating or breaking up with you because he’s bored. “So, you know the saying when pigs fly?” he asks. “Do you think we could actually make them fly? Like genetically modify wings on them and teach them like baby birds?” To the normal individual this seems like an idiotic question, but you’re used to his antics so you don’t even blink and respond casually with a “I hope not. Then I’d have to deal with trying to fish mine out of the sky every night when they need to go to the barn.” To this Sam laughs, throwing his head back as if you just said the funniest thing ever.

You don’t really think your very funny, and you never did. In school you were always the quiet kid, not because you are quiet but because you didn’t have many friends. Therefore, you just built yourself up to other things. You may not be funny, but your reasonably pretty. And smart, you did okay in school.

But Sam just makes you feel like the funniest person to ever exist, laughing at your words even when you don’t attempt to be funny. It makes you feel… nice.

Stuck in your thoughts though you unfortunately fail to conceal yourself once more, Sam realising the way you just completely ignore his following statements with a glossy look behind your eyes. “Babe, you alright?” He enquires, ceasing his swinging immediately to return to your level. You look up at him and smile softly, sighing. He had to realise sooner or later, and you couldn’t hide it from him anyways.

“Sam?” You ask, turning in the swing so the chains intertwine and you face him. He mirrors your movements, scooting so your knees are now touching. The warmth makes you uncomfortable in this moment, but you would never pull away from him. “If I say something weird… would you judge me?” Once again his eyebrows crease at your words, fearlessly shaking his head. “Of course not! Why?” That pit in your stomach grows until you feel sick, the words failing you as you look down at his jeans, which is all you can manage at this moment. “Your not breaking up with me are you?” The way his voice cracks almost brings a tear to your eye, internally cursing yourself for paining him so much. How could you do this to such a sweet, innocent man?

“No no no I just…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No Sam but I need to-“

“If you have an issue just say it I can handle it”

“I know you can its just hard cause-“

“Is this because I ate your pasta  the other day? Cause I thought you wouldn’t mind and I’m happy to-“

“Sam I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of your mouth like daggers, despite the sweetness they’re usually associated with. Every fibre of your being is fighting with one another, some parts happy the secret is out and others despising the pit you’ve fallen into. Yet you continue. “I think I’ve felt this way for a little bit, but I tried to hide it. I hate it, but I can’t anymore. You just make me so happy Sam, and I don’t know whats wrong with me. You drive me mad. I wake up thinking about you, and I fall asleep with the same thoughts. I imagine you moving in with me, marrying me and raising my kids. I feel insane Sam, but I can’t help it anymore. You don’t have to feel the same way, and don’t feel obligated to say anything. But I love you. I really do.”

A silence lingers in the cold air, flowing around like the brown and yellow leaves that fall onto the floor limply. You now get the courage to study his face, and every freckle and imprefection seems like it always has. If this is how the two of you are going to end, you don’t mind. You’ll still have every detail of his body engrained in your mind, along with how his face looks in this very moment. It looks as if he’s brain is about to explode, simultaneously going through every option and pathway that lead to this moment.

His deep blue eyes look up and connect with yours, piercing into your soul as if he’s reading you like a book. Finally he breaks the silence, a sympathetic smile adorning his cheeks. “I love you too.”

It takes you a moment to process his words, and just as it fully sinks in he envelops you in a hug. You begin to beam, heart beating like never before. Did he really just say that? The two of you simultaneously laugh, your hands palming his back and melting into his warmth. “Really?” “Duh! How could you think I didn’t? I literally spent my whole pay check the other day buying you flowers! And you know I hate flowers! And what about the time I wrote a six page card for your birthday, detailing everything about your face? I hate writing!” Despite the tears that threatened to leak out of your eyes previously you now cannot stop laughing, in disbelief of his words.

Sam tucks his head down into the crook of your neck, kissing it over and over again through smooshed words of “I love you” that vibrate on your skin, any prior discomfort flooding away under his touch. You smell like him, feel like him and breath like him, hands digging into his jumper out of pure extacy. Sam lifts you up by the thighs to put you on his lap, arms safely keeping you still ontop of him, and still kissing your neck and collarbone.

“I love you Sam.” “I love you too.” Despite the cold, grey of the sky and the muddy puddles below you everything feels perfect, in a bountiful fall you could never forget.

[sifu-kisu]

The Higgins project is marching on!

Next time you visit our Medieval Galleries, you’ll notice some changes. Our mini-Open Storage display has been dismantled so the objects can be prepared for the Arms and Armor Galleries opening late next year. Here you can see conservator Bill MacMillan with a visitor favorite: a huge ceremonial two-handed sword from the 1400s. It will be off view for the upcoming year—when you see it again, it will be in the new gallery!

Higgins Armory Collection

[camisoledadparis]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTOR

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … January 6

1367 – Richard II of England (d.1400), born Prince Richard of Bordeaux was the second, but only surviving child, of Edward, Prince of Wales (also known as the Black Prince and the eldest son and heir of King Edward III) and his wife, in Bordeaux, Gascony, where the Black Prince was serving at the time. At the age of four, Richard became second in line to the throne upon the death of his elder brother, Edward of Angouleme, and heir apparent when his father, the Black Prince, died five years later (1376). Richard was dubbed a Knight of the Garter by his grandfather only months before the old king died on June 21, 1377. With the death of Edward III, Richard ascended the throne as King Richard II at the young age of ten.

Richard was deemed fit to govern and a series of councils were set up to conduct business in the king's name for the next three years. When the first of these councils met, not only was John of Gaunt, Richard's powreful uncle left out, but also the king's other remaining uncles, Edmund of Langley and Thomas of Woodstock, the Earls of Cambridge and Buckingham respectively. But although John of Gaunt had no official title in Richard's government, he was to remain a leading and influential political figure for nearly the entire reign, though he and the king would not be without their differences.

The young Richard managed to weather a number of crises, including the Peasant's Revolt at the ripe old age of 14. During the following years, the king gradually came of age and moved closer to reaching his majority reign. It was also during this period that he began to come under the influence of a small group of courtiers that were to greedily consume all of his attentions. This group consisted of three primary figures: Sir Simon Burley, the king's tutor since he was a young child; Michael de la Pole, the king's chancellor and Earl of Suffolk after 1385; and Robert de Vere, Earl of Oxford, whom Richard would ultimately upgrade to Marquis and, soon after, Duke of Ireland.

Richard's close friendship to DeVere was disagreeable to the political establishment. This displeasure was exacerbated by the earl's elevation to the new title of Duke of Ireland in 1386. The chronicler Thomas Walsingham suggested the relationship between the king and DeVere was of a homosexual nature, possibly due to a resentment Walsingham had toward the king.

On top of this, it was also wondered whether Richard was a homosexual since he never bore any children. When thinking of the reign of Richard II, it is difficult not to compare it with that of his great-grandfather, Edward II (another supposed homosexual). Like Edward, Richard had difficulty making decisions for himself and came to be dependent on a small group of favorites for advice, usually bad advice, to run the realm.

This reliance on favorites turned the nobility against him, and he was eventually deposed by Henry IV, and died in captivity in 1400.

1412 – Joan Of Arc, Roman Catholic Saint and national heroine of France (this is a legendary date) (d.1431); Joan wore men's clothing between her departure from Vaucouleurs and her abjuration at Rouen. This raised theological questions in her own era and raised other questions in the twentieth century. The technical reason for her execution was a biblical clothing law. The nullification trial reversed the conviction in part because the condemnation proceeding had failed to consider the doctrinal exceptions to that stricture.

Doctrinally speaking, she was safe to disguise herself as a page during a journey through enemy territory and she was safe to wear armor during battle. The Chronique de la Pucelle states that it deterred molestation while she was camped in the field. Clergy who testified at her rehabilitation trial affirmed that she continued to wear male clothing in prison to deter molestation and rape. Preservation of chastity was another justifiable reason for cross-dressing: her apparel would have slowed an assailant, and men would be less likely to think of her as a sex object in any case.

She referred the court to the Poitiers inquiry when questioned on the matter during her condemnation trial. The Poitiers record no longer survives but circumstances indicate the Poitiers clerics approved her practice. In other words, she had a mission to do a man's work so it was fitting that she dress the part. She also kept her hair cut short through her military campaigns and while in prison. Her supporters, such as the theologian Jean Gerson, defended her hairstyle, as did Inquisitor Brehal during the Rehabilitation trial.

Because Joan wore men's clothes and armor, scholars have speculated about her gender identity and sexuality. Did Joan wear male apparel because she was transgendered? Or did she do so in order to be taken seriously by the men whose support she needed to carry out the orders given by her visions? Was Joan a lesbian or bisexual, if those English terms may be applicable to a French woman living almost six hundred years ago? What relationship did her gender expression have with her sexuality? What about Joan's emphasis throughout her life on her virginity?

It is difficult adequately to address these personal issues based on the historical evidence that we now possess. It is clear, however, that Joan's cross-dressing was a significant part of her life, and that as a cross-dressed warrior and military leader she was venerated by French royalty, soldiery, and peasantry alike.

1854 – English fictional detective, born; What!? Sherlock Holmes? Why include the famous, hawk-nosed detective, a figment of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's fertile imagination? Why? Because almost no one realizes that Sherlock Holmes, whom his creator almost named "Sherinford," was Gay.

He was, of course, the first consulting detective, a vocation he followed for 23 years. In January 1881, he was looking for someone to share his new digs at 221B Baker Street, and there being no personal ads in the Village Voice or The Advocate (remember those?) in those days, a friend introduced him to Dr. John H. Watson.

Before agreeing to share the flat, the two men, immediately attracted to one another, listed their respective character deficiencies. Holmes admitted to smoking a smelly pipe, although he didn't mention that he was a frequent user of cocaine. Watson owned up to a peculiar habit of leaving his bed at odd hours of the night.

"I have another set of vices," he admitted, but, then, so did Sherlock. The two became friends and roommates for the rest of their lives. For the sordid details of the famous marriage of true minds that followed, read Rex Stout's astonishing "Watson Was Woman," in which the famous creator of Nero Wolfe (himself hardly a paragon of butch studliness) reveals that Watson and Holmes were the most extraordinary Gay team in sleuthing history.

In 1971, The Traveller's Companion, Inc., an affiliate of Olympia Press, published a book based on the assumption that Holmes and Watson were lovers: The Sexual Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Claiming to be from a newly-discovered secret cache of John Watson's papers, the book retells, very erotically, some of the original stories. It is hard-core gay porn at its best!

1961 – Bill Hayes is an American non-fiction writer and photographer. He has written four books – Sleep Demons, Five Quarts, The Anatomist, and Insomniac City – and has produced one book of photography, How New York Breaks Your Heart. His freelance writing has appeared in a number of periodicals, most notably The New York Times.

Hayes was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota, the fifth of six children, five of them girls. He remains close with his sisters. His mother Jean was an artist; his father John a military man who had lost an eye as a paratrooper in the Korean War. When Bill was three, the family moved to Spokane, Washington, where his father bought a Coca-Cola bottling plant. His mother opened an art school, where Hayes learned to develop and print film. Hayes was close with his maternal grandmother, Helen, from the age of eleven until he left home for college. In high school, Hayes was drawn to the writing of Joan Didion. Hayes attended Santa Clara University in California.

Hayes knew he was gay at a young age, though he had relationships with women in high school and college. He came out at age 24, and considers his orientation to be a core part of his identity.

Hayes' father never accepted him as a gay man and did not maintain a relationship with him, but when John Hayes developed dementia, he came to believe Bill was an old Army friend, and spoke with him warmly. Bill's mother also suffered with dementia until her death in 2011.

Hayes lived in San Francisco for many years, where he worked at the San Francisco AIDS Foundation. His partner of sixteen years was HIV-positive. In 2009, Hayes moved to New York City, where he had a relationship with neurologist and writer Oliver Sacks, until the latter's death in 2015. Hayes' experiences in New York and his six-year relationship with Sacks are the subject of his book Insomniac City.

Hayes has described his adult life as "colored by death" – the deaths he dealt with in his AIDS Foundation work, the sudden death of his longtime partner in San Francisco, and later the death of his partner Oliver Sacks.

1965 – Bjørn Lomborg is a Danish author and adjunct professor at the Copenhagen Business School as well as President of the Copenhagen Consensus Center. He is former director of the Danish government's Environmental Assessment Institute (EAI) in Copenhagen. He became internationally known for his best-selling and controversial book, The Skeptical Environmentalist (2001), in which he argues that many of the costly measures and actions adopted by scientists and policy makers to meet the challenges of global warming will ultimately have minimal impact on the world’s rising temperature.

Lomborg spent a year as an undergraduate at the University of Georgia, earned an M.A. degree in political science at the University of Aarhus in 1991, and a Ph.D. degree in political science at the University of Copenhagen in 1994.

Lomborg is gay and a vegetarian. As a public figure he has been a participant in information campaigns in Denmark about homosexuality, and states that "Being a public gay is to my view a civic responsibility. It's important to show that the width of the gay world cannot be described by a tired stereotype, but goes from leather gays on parade-wagons to suit-and-tie yuppies on the direction floor, as well as everything in between".

1968 – Today is the birthday of the Hungarian politician Gábor Szetey. Szetey is the former Secretary of State for Human Resources, a role he held since July 2006. He is a member of the Hungarian Socialist Party.

Szetey publicly declared that he was gay at the opening night of Budapest's Gay and Lesbian Film Festival, on July 6, 2007. He is the first LGBT member of government in Hungary, and the second politician to come out, after Klára Ungár. Szetey's coming out came at the end of a speech on equality and tolerance:

"When we can be proud of being Hungarian, Romanian, Jewish, Catholic, Gay or Straight... If we can be proud of our differences, we will be proud of our similarities. I believe in God. And I believe that all men and women have the right to love and be loved. Everywhere. Love has no party preference. Neither does happiness or choosing a partner. So: I am Szetey Gábor . I am European, and Hungarian. I believe in God, love, freedom, and equality. I am the Human Resources Secretary of State of the Government of the Republic of Hungary. Economist and HR director. Partner, friend, sometimes rival. And I am Gay."

!n the audience was Klára Dobrev, the wife of Prime Minister Ferenc Gyurcsány, as well as four other members of the Hungarian cabinet. The Prime Minister supported Szetey on his blog and called for public debate about same-sex relationships in Hungary. Hungary currently recognises same-sex registered partnerships. After the coming out of Mr. Szetey, the Parliament adopted the Registered Civil Union Act, which came into force 1 January 2009.

In a subsequent interview, Szetey declared:

"There is a small but vocal group of right-wing extremists which is intent on offending everyone... According to a survey, 51 percent of the respondents thought my speech was courageous and that it would improve the situation for homosexuals. It's strange that the conservatives, who attach such great importance to neighboring states giving their Hungarian minorities equal rights, couldn't care less about equal rights in their own country."

1976 – Today's the birthday of child actor Danny Pintauro. Pintauro played Jonathan Bower, son of Angela Bower in the series 'Who's the Boss' from 1984 till 1992. He was born as Daniel John Pintauro in Milltown, New Yersey, USA. Pintauro studied English and drama at Stanford University.

Pintauro first appeared on the television soap opera As the World Turns as the original Paul Ryan and in the film Cujo, but he came to prominence on the television series Who's the Boss?. After the conclusion of that series, he was less frequently cast. Pintauro went on to act in stage productions like The Velocity of Gary and Mommie Queerest. He also worked as a Tupperware sales representative and as of 2013, he was managing a restaurant in Las Vegas.

In 1997, in an interview with the National Enquirer tabloid, Pintauro declared that he is gay.

Pintauro (R) with husband Wil Tabares

In April 2013 he was engaged to his boyfriend, Wil Tabares, and they married in April 2014.

In 2015, Pintauro revealed in an interview with Oprah Winfrey that he has been HIV positive since 2003. He also disclosed that he had previously been addicted to methamphetamine.

2015 – Florida recognizes same-sex marriages.

[darkshadowduelist]

RAGE OF THE ABYSS

Fujou-suru Big Jaws (Surfacing Big Jaws)

Level 4 WATER Fish Effect Monster

ATK 1800/DEF 300

You can only use the 1st and 2nd effect of this card’s name each once per turn.

(1) During your Main Phase, if a Spell Card was activated this turn: You can Special Summon this card from your hand, also you cannot Special Summon from the Extra Deck for the rest of this turn, except Xyz monsters.

(2) If this card is Normal or Special Summoned: You can add 1 Fish “Shark” monster from your Deck to your hand.

(3) If this card is used for the Xyz Summon of a WATER monster, it can be treated as a Level 3 or 5 monster.

Drake Shark

Water Fish / Effect

LV4 1400/1050

You can only use the 1st and 2nd effect of this card’s name each once per turn.

(1) If this card is added to your hand, except by drawing it: You can Special Summon it.

(2) If this card is used for the Xyz Summon of a WATER monster that uses 3 or more materials, it can be treated as as 2 materials.

(3) A “Shark Drake” Xyz Monster that has this card as material gains this effect.

● Once per turn: You can detach 2 materials from this card, then target 1 Spell/Trap on the field; attach it to this card as material.

Armored Shark

Water Fish / Effect

LV3 500/2000

(This card is always treated as an “Armored Xyz” card.)

You can only use the 1st and 2nd effect of this card’s name each once per turn.

(1) You can send 1 WATER Xyz Monster from your Extra Deck to the GY, then target 1 Fish monster in your GY with a Level equal to the sent monster’s Rank; Special Summon it.

(2) During your opponent’s turn, if this card is in your GY (Quick Effect): You can target 1 WATER Xyz Monster you control; equip this card to it as an Equip Spell that gives it 500 ATK.

Number C32: Shark Drake Leviathan

Water Sea Serpent / Xyz / Effect

RK5 3100/2600

4 Level 5 monsters

You can also Xyz Summon this card by discarding 1 Spell and using 1 Rank 4 “Shark Drake” Xyz Monster you control. (Transfer its materials to this card.)

(1) Once per turn (Quick Effect): You can detach 1 material from this card, then target 1 Effect Monster your opponent controls; negate its effects, and if you do, change its ATK/DEF to 0.

(2) This card can make a second attack during each Battle Phase.

(3) If this card attacks a Defense Position monster, inflict piercing battle damage.

Levirtue Dragon

Water Sea Serpent / Xyz / Effect

RK3 2000/0

2 Level 3 monsters

You can only use the 1st and 2nd effect of this card’s name each once per turn.

(1) If this card is Special Summoned: You can add 1 “Virtue Stream” from your Deck to your hand.

(2) You can activate 1 of these effects;

● Detach 1 Xyz Material from your monster; add 1 Fish, Sea Serpent, or Aqua monster from your GY to your hand, except “Levirtue Dragon”.

● Target 2 Xyz Monsters on the field; detach 1 material from 1 of them and attach it to the other as material.

Aqua Jet Surface (Surface Aqua Jet)

Normal Spell Card

You can only use the 1st and 2nd effect of this card’s name each once per turn.

(1) Special Summon 1 Level 4 or lower Fish, Sea Serpent or Aqua monster from your hand or GY, and if you do, you cannot Special Summon from the Extra Deck while you control it, except Xyz Monsters.

(2) If your opponent controls an Attack Position monster: You can banish this card from your GY, then target 1 Fish, Sea Serpent, or Aqua monster you control; it gains 1000 ATK until the end of this turn.

Reincarnate Unveil Mail

Equip Spell

(This card is always treated as an “Armored Xyz” card.)

You can only activate 1 card with this card’s name per turn.

(1) An Xyz Monster equipped with this card gains these effects.

● Cannot be destroyed by battle.

● Once per turn, if this card battled this turn (Quick Effect): You can return 1 Equip Card equipped to this card to the hand, then, immediately after this effect resolves, Xyz Summon 1 WATER monster.

(2) If this card is sent to the GY: You can activate this effect; equip it from your GY to an Xyz Monster you control during the End Phase of this turn.

Virtue Stream

Trap Normal

You can only use the 1st and 2nd effect of this card’s name each once per turn.

(1) Target 1 Fish, Sea Serpent, or Aqua monster you control and 2 cards your opponent controls; destroy them.

(2) You can banish this card from your GY, then target 1 face-up monster on the field; apply this effect based on its Attribute.

● WATER: The next time it would be destroyed by card effect this turn, it is not destroyed.

● Non-WATER: Its Attribute becomes WATER.

Xyz Poseidon Splash

Trap Normal

You can only use either the 1st or 2nd effect of this card’s name per turn, and only once that turn.

(1) If you control an Xyz Monster that has an Xyz Monster as material: Declare 1 Attribute among monsters on the field; destroy all monsters on the field with that Attribute that are not equipped with an Equip Spell.

(2) You can banish this card from your GY and detach 1 Xyz Material from your monster; Special Summon 1 Fish, Sea Serpent, or Aqua monster from your GY to either field.

[lesssial]

Trying to figure out the year in Bram's/Fyodor's Backstory

So what I'm looking at is Vlad the impaler's timeline along with a few hints in the manga. But not much Dracula because I haven’t read the book, and also because the book takes place about 400 years later.

So the castle that Bram lived in, for people who don't know, is an actual castle in Transylvania Romania named Bran.

Basic info

-Bran castle was built between 1377 and 1388. (Vlad the impaler never set foot in it but Dracula lived there.)

-Vlad III ruled Wallachia

-Vlad the impaler / Vlad III lived from 1431-1476 (He was defeated by the ottomans not Romans and his head was shipped to Constantinople/Istanbul)

-Vlad III’s reigns; 1448 (For a few months), 1456-62, and 1476-77.

It is a bit hard to truly connect to two while they ruled two different regions (Transylvania & Wallachia)

The knights

In this panel, we can get a look of the types of armor these knights wore.

The majority of the helmets resemble a barbute helmet which was used in the 15th century

The rectangular shields (scutum) mostly disappeared by the end of the 3rd century

Mainly spears and Halberds (The spear ax things) with an occasional sword in the crowd of knights. (Spears were cheaper at the time)

The full body armor became popular between 1400-1500s.

Byzantine empire fell in 1453 while the holy roman empire fell in the 1800s.

What nation are the knights from?

This is the main question. Are these knights from the Holy Roman empire? The Byzantine empire before it fell? Most likely not the ottoman empire due to the amount of christian symbolism. It can’t be the Byzantine empire because they rarely if at all used Halberts. Also the Byzantine empire fell pretty early so it's unlikely they were associated with Bram’s defeat. It seems like the Holy Roman empire however they did not use rectangular shields, favoring a kite or heater shield instead. Then who else?

I couldn't find any good maps

Fyodor mentioned the North (Idk why Bram started blabbering about the west). Do you know what was north of Transylvania? The Kingdom of Hungary who also had a skilled army known as the black army that used rectangular shields and was big on spears and Halberd.

The Hungarian Black army (1458-1494)

From the evidence gathered so far, it must be 1458-76.

King Matthias & the Sultan

Here, Bram asks Fyodor who he serves, either King Matthias (The king of Hungary) or the Sultan (Leader of the Ottomans). Bram was suspicious of the Sultan for the reason that they started eyeing Europe once the Byzantine Empire fell, along with his history with them (Held hostage as a boy). The tension between King Matthias and Vlad III started when Matthias received a letter from the saxons allegedly written by Vlad III in which he offered support to the Ottomans. This was enough to convince Matthias of Vlad III’s treachery so he imprisoned him from 1463 to 1475. Vlad III was intercepted and captured by Matthias after he had escaped Ottoman capture and sought Matthias for assistance. This could be when Bram was defeated in the manga(?) So I guess the year may have been 1462-1463?

Some bonus info that I noticed is that Matthias signed a peace treaty with the Holy Roman empire in 1463. Maybe Bram was defeated after they signed the treaty so they could form some sort of coalition against him (This could explain why the knights all had religious imagery on their helmets).

Another thing is that Bram was impaled(?) alongside two other women. In the Dracula book, I believe it was mentioned there were three female vampires that the protagonist had to defeat before killing Dracula in the castle. This could hint towards the fact that Bram was in the castle when he was attacked and defeated.

(I'm having trouble mixing history and fiction. Fyodor definitely had a hand in this. No way he just came to warn Bram for no reason)

None of these images are mine (I'm sure you know, but just in case)

Yeah that’s all I got, please comment to correct me and/or let me know if you know anything. (Might edit later idk)