#Historical figure birthdays

[adambadeau]

Happy Birthday, Mr. Badeau!

Born 1831 in New York City, Adam Badeau was a prolific author, theatre critic, and Union soldier who served on General U. S. Grant’s staff as a brevet lieutenant colonel from 1864-1869, when he left the army due to the lingering effects of a severe injury at the Siege of Port Hudson.

Badeau aided his close friend General Grant in writing not only a biography of his life but, toward the end of Grant’s life, his memoirs. That is, until they quarreled and eventually he was dismissed.

Badeau published his works in the New York Sunday Times under the pen name “The Vagabond”, also the title of his published 1859 work. He died in 1895 at 63 years old and was buried in New Jersey.

the most speculative idea about Adam Badeau is not about his many accomplishments or works, nor his friendship with General Grant, but rather, his alleged homosexuality. Badeau was said to have had liaisons with fellow Union soldiers- and the greatest actor of the day and “100 Nights’ Hamlet”, Edwin Booth.

Booth and Badeau were extremely close in the years leading up to the Civil War. They frequently wrote to and about each other, and Adam helped keep Edwin from drinking, especially after the death of the actor’s first wife, Mary Devlin. In The Vagabond, Badeau writes about his “Night With the Booths”, where he and Booth are looking through Edwin’s fathers’ old things. Badeau recalls Edwin reading to him until Adam fell asleep on his shoulder, where they remained. Their relationship was strong during the early 1860’s & 1870’s.

Adam Badeau’s sexuality has been explored by many a historian and Civil War buff, as well as various pieces of media, including the musical Tyrants. He is most well remembered for his relationship with Booth, a charming story, indeed, but Badeau’s good character and talented work, as well as his role in the war effort, are not to be forgotten.

[destalva25]

🎂HAPPY BIRTHDAY FRIEDRICH ENGELS🎂

#OnThisDay

28th November 1820, Friedrich Engels was born in Barmen. The rest is history🔥

[clonehighdoublehelix]

[blueshistorysims]

May 16th, 1942, Henford-on-Bagley, England

Miranda quietly turned thirteen on a Saturday. She hadn’t wanted a party of any sort, much to the disappointment of Amalia, who thought turning thirteen would be the greatest thing to ever happen to her. Uncle Byron and Aunt Eleora didn’t talk about it, but she knew it was a hard day for them. Her mother after all had been Eleora’s childhood best friend. 

Lydia Leung had come from London to live with them since December, arriving the day after the United States joined the war. They weren’t friends, mostly due to the four-year age difference, but also because she spent all her time with Simon-Elliot. Miranda suspected the pair were dating, but she knew she wasn’t one to say anything. Her own feelings on love were a complex matter. 

She was quiet, still wearing black for her younger brother who’d died six months ago. Eleora tried her best to talk to her, but she knew it was up to Lydia to come out of mourning. When Simon-Elliot came home in July, Miranda was sure Lydia would lighten up. Or at least not isolate herself so much.

In September, Miranda would join her at the preparatory girls’ school Bramblewood College, also located in Henford County, where they would be the first students of Asian descent to attend the school, though Miranda knew the rather large donation from the Duke and Duchess of Feldsbury and their admission were not coincidences. 

“I know you didn’t want a party, dear, but we are still having a nice dinner with cake,” Eleora greeted when she entered the sitting room, setting down her book. 

“I’m surprised you’re not asking why I’m up so early.”

“So is Lydia. And the first night of having your own room is always an adjustment.”

“I’m very glad not to share a room with a toddler.”

She chuckled. “I think we’ll renovate the house when we win the war. Nurseries are a bit of a thing from the past, no?”

“You sound confident we’ll win the war,” Miranda mused, sitting next to her. 

“When the Americans entered the war back in 1917, it changed things. The morale was a complete turnaround. Your father once told me that he’d never been so happy to hear a foreign accent in his life when they arrived in France.” She smiled. “And I like Americans. Much more fun and far less stuck up.”

Eleora noticed Miranda’s sullen look and pursed her lips, concerned. “What is it, Miranda?”

“...Isn’t today hard for you? My mum died today. And I have so many confusing emotions, I barely know what to say or think.”

The older woman sighed. “Of course I miss your mother. She was my best friend. We did everything together. It was a lot like you and Amalia. Joined at the hip.” She paused. “Well, we did other things too.”

Miranda looked at her. “What do you mean by that?”

She frowned. “There’s something you want to tell me, yes?”

“Yes.” The teenager couldn’t deny it. “I… think… I—I’ve never had an interest in boys. I never understood Amalia’s fascination with Hollywood stars, but I’m lucky enough to be raised by people who aren’t ignorant about things society doesn’t speak of. More so that I’ve gotten to be intimate with women who I understand completely now.”

“Are you telling me you’re a homosexual, Miranda?”

“Yes.”

An emotion Miranda did not recognize appeared on her godmother’s face. Eleora’s eyebrows knit together, almost as if she were reminiscing over something that brought her great sorrow. Finally, she sighed and turned to look directly at Miranda. 

“You know, I had my first kiss when I was fourteen, about to be fifteen. It was with a girl—your mother, shortly after her thirteenth birthday. We were each other’s first everything really. And in university, we lived together.”

“My mother had homosexual leanings?”

“Your mother often had many romantic dalliances with men and women, but sexually? She preferred women, so when she and your father began to see one another in a romantic and sexual sense, I was quite surprised.”

“...Did my father know?”

She nodded. “There’s a lot of things you children don’t know about, and even though you’re a teenager now, I still think you’re too young to know everything.”

“You can’t say that and then tell me I’m too young to hear it.”

“In time, Miranda.”

“Was my father always like that, even before my mother died?”

“No. When I first met him, I thought him to be very stubborn and passionate, but also kind and very funny. He was a flame that burnt out too quickly, and I think he loved too much, and that’s why he was driven to such despair, on top of his melancholia.”

Miranda’s memories of her father were few, and even fewer of them were times when he was happy. She hadn’t known it was a suicide until she was ten since they had told her he’d died of a broken heart. He had died of a broken heart in a way, his grief consuming him until it led to his death. 

“Now Miranda,” Eleora began, “I am so happy that you’ve decided to tell your feelings, and I want you to know that I understand, and I have been in your shoes. I want to ask what you want to do. Would you like to tell the rest of the family, including your Aunt Elspeth, or would you rather keep things quiet?”

“Quiet,” the teen said firmly. “I’m not ready to tell everyone yet.”

Eleora stood up, nodding. “Then this conversation will just be between you and me, yes?”

“Yes,” Miranda answered, also standing up.

“Now come here so I can hug you, birthday girl,” her godmother insisted, pulling the girl into a tight embrace. 

Miranda happily hugged her back.

beginning/previous/next

[noodyl-blasstal]

Not that kind of apocalpyse!

Sometimes you might ask yourself, “What if Taakitz kissed in the historical fish castle during the zombie apocalypse?” Well I answered it.

Happy Birthday @ceilingfan5!

Read below or on Ao3

-

“There’s someone outside!” Lup shouts from her spot at the periscope.

Fuck. Of course Taako was going to have to deal with this on his watch. The trouble always waited until Magnus was busy flexing somewhere else and Merle was off doing unspeakable things in the garden. 

“Someone, or something?” He asks. He tries not to let the weariness creep into his tone, but Taako’s so tired of this bullshit. First he got called in on his first day off in weeks… months? Who fucking knows any more; then he got zombie apocalypsed; and now everyone’s trying to eat him and not in the good way. Not that there’s any chance of boning down with anyone in the near future because he’s related to, or may as well be related to, everyone he knows is currently alive - well, apart from the peppy idiots on the radio who keep advertising their ‘zombie free wonderland’, but Taako doesn’t trust easily and whatever they’re selling seems too good to be true. 

“Cha’girl said what she said.” Lup doesn’t move away, just adjusts the scope.

“People?”

“Person, singular, a guy I think.” 

“Are you definitely sure he’s people?”

“Are you definitely sure you want to keep asking me?” Lup doesn’t pull her eyes away from the periscope, but she does give him the finger. It’s artful really, her spatial awareness is a thing of wonder.

Before he can think, Taako opens his mouth to pretend to bite it off, it’s reflex as much as anything, but he closes it gently, doesn’t snap his teeth. That bit is a lot less funny than it used to be. Watching a loved one nearly get chomped will do that for you.

“Can I see?” Taako asks instead of answering, he’s not going to do anything completely out of character like admitting fault.

“Hang on…” Lup turns the scope side to side. Fuck.”

“What?”

“Shush a minute.” Lup hisses.

Ah yes, telling Taako to shush, the thing that works every time. “What’s going on?”

“Shit! Run, dude, run” She mutters.

“Lup! What’s happening?”

“Biter.” She turns the scope slowly. “Two… At the moment. I don’t know if he’s seen them.”

“Do you want Taako to…?” Taako gestures at the ladder up to the harpoon gun.

Lup stays fixed to the scope but still manages to nod. “Be ready, see if he needs it. He’s by the unfortunately shaped hill, but he’s moving fast towards the tree that looks like it’s doing a high kick.”

Taako climbs up the ladder into the ramparts and pulls the shutter back from the slightly-wider-than-intended crenellation (thanks to Magnus’ enthusiasm). He zeroes in fast with Lup’s directions. There’s definitely two of them, if not more, lurking behind the dude as he walks. Taako hopes he’s aware of them. He could be, the guy’s walking with purpose. He’s glad, Taako hates dawdlers, not least because he used to be one by choice and now he has to zoom everywhere because he’d like to keep living actually please and thank you.

“You didn’t tell me he was hot!” Taako bellows down to Lup. A crime of the highest order, frankly, it’s been a while since Taako’s had anything good to look at and he could have been looking much faster.

“You can’t see him well enough to know if he’s hot or not, he’s too far away.” Lup yells back. 

The guy turns his head in their direction. It’s a nice face, a really nice face, that he’s working with there.

“See! Hot!” Taako refuses to let her get away with this on a technicality. He knew in his bones the guy was good looking, Lup should have too. He sticks his tongue out in her direction. She might not be able to see him, but she’ll know.

“He’s coming this way.” She shouts up.

“What?” Taako looks back, using the wildly inaccurate harpoon sights that Barry was definitely getting round to fixing (it was for the best he left them alone at this point, Taako automatically adjusted for it now.) Hot boy had changed trajectory and was heading their way. “But there’s… fuck!”

Taako slides the harpoon to the side, sees the biter who was lurking on the guy’s tail. Shit. It’s close, too close. He jumps up and bellows with everything in him. “Hey, hey handsome! Watch out!” He’s too hot to die. 

They make eye contact and this is it, this is the thing they wrote about, that they sing about, that’s on the TV. It’s electric, it’s perfect, it’s… 

“Run you absolute dickhead!” Lup bellows from beside Taako. He needs to get her a bell. “Stop staring at my idiot brother and run!” She elbows Taako and mutters. “Idiot.”

The man shakes out of it and glances round in time to see the biter on his tail. Taako hears the faint “Oh fuck!” on the wind as the guy starts running. Thankfully in the direction of the drawbridge. Shit. The drawbridge.

“We need to let him in.” Taako says, urgently.

“C’mon.” Lup’s already heading for the ladder.

Taako scrambles after her, slides down the ladder, and lands in a roll. He jumps up and does the ‘tah dah!’ arms, but Lup’s already gone. That’s fine, he can appreciate his own talents, he doesn’t need adoration from the masses or anything.

Lup yanks on the lever that releases the drawbridge and the portcullis raises at speed, narwhal horns raising up to hang like as many sharp teeth. They’ve saved them all a few times.

“Go go go!!!” Taako yells, hopefully encouragingly. He’s sure not going out there, but shouting he can do.

“I’m going to get my gun.” Lup mutters.

The man’s close, really close, when the zombie lurches out from behind the tree. Not high kick tree, it would never betray Taako like that, one of the bog standard ones. One of the ones he’s going to burn down because it just killed Taako’s new boyfriend. It’s fine, he’s allowed to get ahead of himself, this dude’s going to be nothing but a ‘what if’ now.

The zombie grabs the man’s arm and tries to bite his hand, the guy twists away, punches it in the face, gives it his best shot. Of course he does, he’s got something to live for, he’s trying to survive, trying to make it to Taako. The biter grabs his ankle and drags him to the floor.

Two spears take down the other zombies before they can reach the man and join the feast.

“I can’t get a clean shot.” Lup says mournfully beside him. She glances round, then walks carefully forward, spear gun raised.

“You have to stop doing that.” Taako hisses and steps along beside her. He’s trying to have a moment here, to give his dying future husband the reverence he deserves. They were going to adopt so many cats. It would have been beautiful. He’s not in the mood to be spooked.

“Counterpoint, you have to work on your awareness.” Lup nudges him.

“No need when I have you, sister mine! Taako’s all good.” He walks carefully beside her, remembers to step over the crack in the resin flagstones left after The Incident.

Lup does the face she does when he pretends he’s not training (he refuses to give up the possibility of being blase about the zombies, even if he’s been doing endless crunches, and parkour, and whatever other nonsense Lup and Magnus insist is going to save their lives, at night when no one’s watching. Well, apart from Agnes, but if he wants Taako to ever bake the cookies he likes again he’ll stay quiet.)

They’re close enough now to see that the zombie’s still gnashing, but the guy’s clearly fighting back. Maybe he���s not a goner yet?

“Maybe we can… you know, help?” Taako glances round and can’t see any others nearby.

“He might be infected… I guess I could…” Lup’s mouth tightens into a hard line.

“No! Don’t help him dead, like, help help!” Taako steps closer gingerly. As he gets into range of grabbing and pulling the biter off, it shudders and goes still. There’s no movement underneath it either. Of course. Brilliant, fucking brilliant. “Just Taako’s luck. The first hot guy cha’boy sees since the apocalypse apocalypsed, and he immediately gets himself chomped.”

Lup pats him sympathetically on the shoulder. “Next time ‘Ko”

“You think I’m hot?” The man asks, rolling the un-undead corpse unceremoniously to the side.

“Fuck!” Lup and Taako jump back as one.

“Stay there!” Lup aims the spear gun squarely at his head. “Did you get bit?”

“You have to tell us if you did, otherwise it’s entrapment.” Taako adds. Because why shouldn’t he have a little fun, honestly. He winks, so the guy knows Taako’s not going to be waving any spears at him… well unless he plays his cards right…

“Who enforces zombie entrapment law?” Hotboy asks as if he genuinely cares, as if he’s passionate about legal rights and wants to make sure the lawyer provided is up to the job. He probably does care. It’s the end of the world and Taako meets someone who’s hot and funny and willing to play legal zombism so of course Taako’s also going to have to put him down or, more likely, watch while Lup does it and try not to cry about it until he’s alone in bed later.

“You’re not allowed to distract us with legalese, that’s also entrapment, probably.” Taako adds authoritatively.

The man  smiles brightly in his direction. “I didn’t get bit.”

“Prove it.” Lup’s aim doesn’t waiver.

The man sighs. “My name’s Kravitz.”

“What does that prove?” Lup makes a ‘get on with it’ gesture with the gun.

“I usually like to make sure a guy knows my name before I strip in front of him.” He doesn’t break eye contact with Taako.

“Taako.” Taaok stares right back. He’s not a looking people in the eyes guy, but this? This is competitive looking, and if there’s anything Taako loves it’s winning.

“I’m Lup and this is gross, break it up right now!” Lup sounds genuinely disgusted. Good, honestly. He’s been living with her and Barold since this all started, he deserves at least a little revenge for his trouble.

“But you said…” Kravitz’s hands still on his leather jacket’s zip.

“I said prove you didn’t get bit. Like, show me your hands and arms and the bits that were actually anywhere near the dead guy. The medic can fully assess you after that.”

“Fine.” He shows her his hands and his collar bones, and his arms, they’re nice arms. “But what if I got bitten earlier?” 

“Did you?” Taako asks quickly.

“No. But I could have been and you wouldn’t know. Someone should check.” Kravitz glances at Taako.

“Cha’boy will do it. You know, to save you having to, Lu.”

“Uh huh, sure, yeah, a brave sacrifice. Now move it, both of you, I want to get the drawbridge up and the portcullis down.” Lup finally lowers the spear gun.

“Portcullis… So… uh… I did want to ask.” Kravitz begins gingerly as he walks across the bridge and into the castle.

“Uh huh.” Taako tries to look like he couldn’t possibly imagine what Kravitz is about to ask.

“I couldn’t help but notice…” Kravitz says gently, carefully.

“You noticed something?” Lup asks sweetly, as she begins to turn the crank.

“That you’re in a castle.” Kravitz finishes as the portcullis falls into place and the drawbridge is lifted.

“It’s not a castle!” Lup and Taako say as one.

“It’s not a castle?” Kravitz asks, warily eyeing the fish themed portcullis.

“It’s so much more, Kraveroo. Welcome to SeaBlaster, we’ve got fish, and the things you use to squish… them.” Taako does his best business smile, the one that they paid him slightly above minimum wage for, and does an adequate job of jazz hands (those didn’t come cheap.)

“It’s not really squishing though, is it?” Kravitz asks, like that’s the only problem with anything that’s happening right now.

“Hey, hey Kravitz, just to check, the only problem you have with the aquari-museum we now live in is the tagline not quite making sense because most of this stuff is used to stab and not squish?” 

“No!” Kravitz says indignantly. “Whales also aren’t fish. There’s no way the harpoon you were at was used on anything that wasn’t a marine mammal!” 

Lup snorts.

Taako groans. “You’ll get on well with Angles.”

“Who’s Angles?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But I…”

“Ssssh.” Taako pats Kravitz’s shoulder reassuringly. Plenty of time for that.

There’s a long beat of silence as Lup begins to stride back to the staff room. Or, well, the common room as they call it these days, it’s homier, apparently.

Taako inclines his head and Kravitz follows obediently. Good to know.

“So how long have you been here?” Kravitz asks, falling into step beside him.

“This doesn’t seem fair. You’ve already had a load of questions.” Taako looks at Kravitz and smiles, just to be sure he knows it’s a joke.

“You can ask some things.” Kravitz looks positively overjoyed at the prospect.

“How’d you kill it?” Taako asks. He didn’t hear a gun or anything.

“Er…” There’s a long pause.

Taako stops dead. “Kravitz?”

“No wait, it’s not weird.”

“If you have to say it’s not weird, Taako’s inclined to think it’s gonna be weird.”

“But I said it wasn’t!” Kravitz protests, as if that has ever worked.

“People are asking a lot of questions that my “the way I killed the zombie wasn’t weird” tshirt already answered… C’mon, just tell Taako.”

“Staked it.” Kravitz mutters.

“You fucking what now?” 

“I staked it.” Kravitz over-ennunciates, spitefully, Taako loves it. Can they keep him forever?

“My question stands.”

“I used a stake. I staked it.” Kravitz shrugs nonchalantly like that’s not completely ridiculous. “You use what very much looks like a historical whaling harpoon!” He adds, as if that’s relevant right now. He’s right though.

“You just…” Taako mimes stabbing Kravitz through the heart. It’s slightly more dramatic than it needs to be, sure, but how often does a guy get to go full Dracula-murder?

“Obviously not, that doesn’t work. I…” Kravitz steps towards him and mimes stabbing Taako through the eye. It brings them close, nearly touching close.

“Show cha’boy again? I missed it.” Taako leans forward.

Kravitz looks confused for a second, there’s a beat where Taako thinks he’s pushed his luck too far. Before he can apologise though, Kravitz is cradling the back of Taako’s head with one hand.

“Like this.” He says softly, barely a whisper, as he fuels whatever is crackling between them and brings his fake-stake wielding hand towards Taako’s eye.

“Urgh, quit it!” Lup yells back at them and flings the door to the common room open. “Taako’s got a…” the door swings blessedly shut before she can finish her sentence, but Taako can hear the chorus of questions immediately rumble up in response.

“Er…  you wanna shower? Before you, you know, meet the gang?” Taako gestures expansively at the door which is currently rattling. He can just about hear Magnus’ protests and mentally thanks Lup (or whoever it is) preventing him from barrelling into the hallway, hugging Kravitz to death and asking him a bajillion questions before without giving him a chance to answer. It’d still be better than Merle appearing though.

“You have one?” Kravitz sounds suspicious.

“Are you trying to say Taako smells?” Taako tries not to be offended, but it should be obvious to anyone he has a shower. The apocalypse has never looked so good!

“No!” Kravitz’s indignation is reassuring at least. “I just… It’s…” He peters out.

“Been a while?” Taako asks, giving Kravitz a deeply un-subtle once over.

“Not for lack of wanting.” Kravitz replies, and the want is palpable.

“Taako can definitely help you out there, handsome. Don’t you worry. If Kravitz wants, Kravitz can get.” Taako hopes he’s inflected exactly enough emphasis to be sure Kravitz knows which page they’re on. The sex page of the sex book. “It’s this way.” Taako leads Kravitz down the hallway and towards the stone staircase to the aquarium. They figured the geothermal heat would be good for bedroom temperature as well as the tropical fish. It was a solid bet. “So, how’d you end up with stakes?”

“Is that a fish tank?” Kravitz’s attention is immediately gone. He’s pressed to the tank and marvelling at the clownfish darting around and Taako hates each and every one of them because Kravitz should be looking at him instead.

“Taako wasn’t kidding about the ‘aquari’ bit in the welcome spiel, my dude. We’ve got fish, we’ve got historical fishing weaponry, and all of that comes with a ridiculous part fibreglass, part stone, largely fish themed castle. Buy now for the low low price of spending the rest of forever here, or at least until the bugs eat all the zombies to death or whatever.”

“I’m sold!” Kravitz says, worryingly enthusiastically, as he presses himself to the fish tank viewing window. It’s disgustingly adorable and Taako hates himself for the way his stomach clenches in the ‘going over a bumpy bit of road and loving it’ way.

“So… how’d you get the stake?” Taako refuses to be deterred from finding out.

“Whittled it.” Kravitz says too quickly. 

“Why?” Taako asks. There’s something here, there’s a string to pull at and he’s gonna.

“You know, end of the world.” Kravitz flaps his hand dismissively.

“C’mon. You can tell me, the shower’s just over here.” Taako opens the door to his quarters. Well. His ‘office’. They all just picked their favourite and took over. Taako’s is set a bit further away from the others and had a bathroom next door which is now an ensuite, because there’s not a chance in hell anyone’s coming back for this place after, and if they do they’re gonna be owed so much back pay that it wouldn’t be worth the counter-suit for the wages to try and make him repair the wall.

“Here’s the bathroom.” Taako nudges open the door and wishes that he’d spent literally any time cleaning his room in the last mmm… day…s…week… It’s fine. It’s the end of the world, you don’t have to be neat and tidy when humanity’s clinging on by a thread. Not that he was before, but Kravitz doesn’t need to know that. “And here’s a fresh towel.” He shoves one at Kravitz. 

“This smells like mint?” Kravitz says like Taako’s magic. Taako could get used to this level of adoration.

“It’s antimicrobial.” Taako says, because apparently apocalypse flirting is letting the guy you like know your towels don’t have diseases.

“But how did you get it?”

“Hydroponics.” 

“How did you…” Kravitz starts to ask. 

“Not questions for Taako. I deal in fish and harpoons, you’ll need Merle for garden questions and I can guarantee that he’ll answer with more detail than you want and you’ll regret it as much as everyone else does when they ask.

“I don’t mind getting to learn new thing.” Kravitz sounds worryingly interested.

“It’s not about the plants, well it is… but not, you know… in the way you want… it’s not about the things you want to…” Taako squinches his face up remembering The Onion Incident. He hasn’t cooked with them since.

“You’re making it sound like it’s a sex thing.” Kravitz laughs heartily, poor sweet fool. Taako’s silence clearly speaks volumes. “Wait… you mean…?”

“Anyway, here’s the shower.” Taako says quick, loud, and brokering no further vegetable sex questions. He refuses to let Merle ruin this for him. He points at it, just in case Kravitz somehow missed the cubicle, and starts to leave.

“Wait!” Kravitz says quickly. “You needed to check me out!” Kravitz grabs Taako’s arm as he turns away. “I mean… you know, for safety.”

“Well, if you insist.” Taako steps inside and closes the door behind him. “For safety, of course.” 

“Of course.” Kravitz says smooth as butter. Then immediately fumbles his zip in a rush to get his jacket off.

“You okay there, Kemosabe?” Taako tries not to laugh.

“I’m fine!” Kravitz’s voice has the slightest hint of desperation. “Absolutely fine. I’m trying to get naked in front of the most handsome man I think I’ve possibly ever laid eyes on, which is, may I say, an achievement at the end of the world as we know it, I knew guys who had access to, you know, stuff.”

“Ah, stuff.” Taako says wisely, trying very hard not to flick his hair dramatically and show Kravitz just how correct he is.

“Stuff.” Kravitz continues. Tugging at his zip again. “... and now I can’t get out of…” he gives a dramatic wiggle “...this stupid…”

“Let me.” Taako steps forward. “Taako can look after you.” He looks Kravitz dead in the eyes as he slides the zip down slowly, and thanks fate that it actually works. He probably could have dragged the jacket up over Kravitz’s head, but this way is so much better, this way means Kravitz is looking at him like he wants to eat him - in the good way. The good good way.

“Thank you.” Kravitz says, close, very close. Close enough for Taako to breathe him in and…

“Wait… shit. Hang on. Is that <i>garlic</i>???” Taako immediately abandons all thought of getting off, because if this is what he thinks…

“Er… I can expl…”

Taako pats at Kravitz’s chest. “There!” He thrusts his hand into the jacket’s inside pocket, hopes he’s right, he’s rewarded with a tight white bulb.

Garlic! It had been months, months, since Lucretia overwatered his stash and killed the last hope for flavour. He still hadn’t forgiven her. “I could kiss you.”

“You can if you want.” Kravitz looks so earnest, so hopeful, that Taako does, presses his lips firmly to Kravitz’s, brokering no room for confusion. He wants this, he means this. It’s intended as a quick thing, a temptation, but the way Kravitz melts into it though, the way he pushes himself forward into Taako, it’s delicious, it’s intoxicating, it’s… deeply uncomfortable.

Taako pulls back. “How much stuff have you got in here?” He flicks the jacket, then his hands are on the buttons of Kravitz’s shirt, working away, before Kravitz can reply. “Why is this cross so massive? It really digs in.” Taako lifts the ridiculously sized, heavy, solid silver cross that’s hanging round Kravitz’s neck and lets it drop again. Maybe he loves Jesus? Although he also seems pretty into boning before marriage… hmm.

“Er…”

Taako pulls Kravitz’s jacket open to reveal a series of inside pockets full of stakes. “How many of these did you make?”

“I… uh… Look, Taako.”

Taako reaches into the external chest pocket and pulls out a vial of clear liquid. “Small water bottle, my guy. Couldn’t find anything else to drink from? Glass doesn’t seem practical.” Taako narrows his eyes. 

“It’s…” Kravitz looks panicked. Taako should have known he was too good to be true. “It’s good for the environment…” 

Taako raises an eyebrow at him.

“...and also It’s a back up.” Kravitz smiles, winningly. It doesn’t work.

“Why do you have so many of them?” Taako pats at his pockets again. “Wait, is this more garlic?” It is… four more bulbs. Kravitz leans in as if he thinks Taako’s going to kiss him again. He does, obviously, because garlic at the end of the world is garlic at the end of the world, and it would be rude not to.

It’s distracting, the kissing, he definitely means to ask more questions, but also Kravitz is so handsome, and so… there. It’s been a long time. Taako pushes the jacket off Kravitz’s shoulders, it lands, loudly, but means it’s much more comfortable this time when Kravitz pushes his chest against Taako’s. It’s only natural that Taako slides his arm to Kravitz’s back, pulling him closer. The noise Kravitz makes when he does it tells Taako he’s just as desperate for this, for connection, for the press of bodies, for hot breath and moaning in a context unrelated to someone who’s recently dead and trying to bite your face off.

Taako drops his hand lower… “Kravitz, what the fuck?” Taako steps back, holding the stake tucked into his back pocket.

Kravitz sighs, heavily. “If I tell you, can we keep doing that?” He gestures between them in what Taako assumes is supposed to be an approximation of the heavy petting he’d very much like to get back to.

Taako raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not weird!” Kravitz protests too much.

“We’ve talked about this. Remember? You’re making it sound weird again.”

Kravitz squinches his face up, then shrugs. “I’m a vampire hunter.”

“What?” Taako doesn’t even know where to start with this one. Usually he’s got words, he’s full of them, they’re happening without checking in with him first, but he’s bereft, devoid, left wanting. In multiple ways. Is being unhinged a deal breaker for him? Taako’s unhinged. At least the guy’s prepared, dedicated to his imaginary craft.

“So…I told you…” Kravitz’s face is inches from his again.

Taako’s tempted. Sorely tempted. But he should probably definitely ask at least two more questions so Lup doesn’t shout at him later.

He places his hand firmly on Kravitz’s chest and definitely doesn’t cop a feel in the process. “You’re a vampire hunter?” That’s one. Nearly back to hot-boy-make-out-session followed by maybe-moving-things-to-the-shower-if-it-goes-well time.

“Yes.”

“And you think vampires are real?” Taako asks as gently as possible.

Kravitz steps back this time. “Hang on. Wait. We’re in a zombie apocalypse!”

“Vampires aren’t zombies.” Taako says with confidence, there’s not too much he knows about zombies short of the whole ‘they don’t get back up if you harpoon them in the head’ thing, but that’s one of the other facts he’s got.

“Obviously not.” Kravitz says, like Taako’s stating the obvious.

There’s a moment of intense eye contact. Kravitz nods as if what he’s just said was in some way conclusive, point proving, debate winning.

“Exactly.” Taako says. Because yeah, zombies aren’t vampires. “Wrong kind of apocalypse.”

“I didn’t think it was a vampire apocalypse.” Kravitz looks indignant as if Taako’s being ridiculous here. “I’m familiar enough with biting to know what’s gone wrong here.” He gestures expansively to the whole of everything.

“Sure…” Taako’s lost again.

“I was a vampire hunter before the zombies happened.” Kravitz says, as if that’s the same as Taako’s Underwater Fun-gineer role. Taako’s clearly still looking at him blankly because he adds. “You can’t believe in zombies and not vampires! I bet you thought biters weren’t real before this too.” Kravitz had a point, a good one. Fine, Taako can believe all kinds of things for him.

“Did that… pay well?” There. Okay, maybe now he believes in vampires because a handsome man said they were real, but he asked three questions, three! Lup definitely can’t shout at him.

Kravitz levels him with a confused look. “I had a day job, Taako. It’s just that I also do this… did this. They’ve fucked off since, well…”

There’s a long pause while Taako processes. “So, just to clarify, you’re… you’re a vampire hunter without any vampires in a zombie apocalypse?” Taako tries really hard to keep his voice straight, he does. He’s unsuccessful. Wildly unsuccessful judging by the look on Kravitz’s face. It’s positively stony.

Taako tries desperately to choke the laughter back. “Just… one more time.” His voice is thicker than normal, but he thinks he just about manages to play it off as regular. “One more.” He adds.

“No.” Kravitz’s bottom lip does something dangerously close to pouting. Taako wants to pull it between his teeth, but he should probably ease off anything biting related right now.

“Go on.” Taako bats his eyelashes, he may as well go for broke.

Kravitz’s nose twitches. “Fine, fine! I’m a vampire hunter in a zombie apocalypse and all the vampires fucked off.” He says huffily.

Taako’s mouth quivers as he presses his lips together, but he can’t stop the snort that escapes. That’s it, there’s no hope, he’s howling, tears streaming down his face, doubled over and wheezing. “S… Sorry.” He gasps out. “I… Fuck. No… no vampires… zombies… wrong… wrong thing.”

“I guess…” Kravitz says slowly. “I guess when you think about it that way…” He lets out a small chuckle. “... it’s… it’s pretty funny.” And then Kravitz is laughing too and they’re leaning against each other, propping each other up as the ridiculousness washes over them. It’s stupid. It’s perfect. Taako’s going to keep him, he can definitely stay.

The laughter subsides, eventually. One of them stops and then they set each other off laughing again over and over again. Taako wants to pin the memory of it to his wall so he can look at it whenever he wants.

“Were there many, you know, before?” Taako’s curious. Why can’t vampires exist?

“Yes. Yes there were.” Kravitz’s face is stony again.

“But less when you…” Taako mimes staking Kravitz through the heart dramatically.

“Yes… Yes. Less when I…” Kravitz grabs Taako by the thighs, pins him to the wall, and pretends to drive a stake into him. 

Taako’s not unwrapping his legs from Kravitz’s waist any time soon. “Do it this way often?” He looks down at Kravitz and smiles as coyly as he can manage, which he’s assuming isn’t very.

Kravitz noses Taako’s chin. “Not really.” He presses a line of kisses across his jaw. “I was just showing off.”

“Speaking of showing.” Taako says, drawing his hands over Kravitz’s biceps, strong, good, very good. “I believe I was supposed to be checking you out.”

Kravitz looks puzzled for a second before he catches on. “Of course. Yes. Very important health and safety process. I’ll have to put you down.”

“I’ll live. Probably.” Taako sighs. Then decides he’s at least entitled to some aerial kisses while he’s up here. “Actually, wait no, hang on.” 

It’s good, it’s very good. It takes a while before Kravitz starts getting wobbly and Taako starts worrying about them collapsing into a pile of horny limbs because there’s no easy way to explain those injuries. He taps Kravitz’s back. “Okay. C’mon. Inspection time. I’ll warn you, I’m very thorough.”

Kravitz groans, and lets him down. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Taako helps him out of the rest of his shirt, stops to give him some more kisses when another bulb of garlic rolls out. He helps to shuffle all the stakes onto the jacket so they stop rolling around the floor. He helps kiss Kravitz’s collar bones when they look lonely.

“Taako.” Kravitz hesitates, hands on the button of his fly.

“Uh huh?” Taako doesn’t even pretend to look him in the eye, surely they’re past that point now.

“I was thinking…” 

“Dangerous thing to do.” Taako lifts his eyes from Kravitz’s stomach and tries to focus on something that isn’t thinking about running his hands over it, grazing his nails through the hair there, kissing his way downwards.

“I have another safety concern.” He says, so earnestly.

“Uh huh?”

“How do I know you haven’t been bitten?” The corner of Kravitz’s mouth lifts as his eyebrows raise in challenge.

“You make a compelling point, handsome, I guess you’d better inspect me too.” Taako’s top is off before he’s finished talking.

[br1ghtestlight]

this is so funny to me actually bcuz this is 100% how i talk abt my characters ages. i know what YEAR they were born and i know what rheir ages are supposed to be at the start of the story but i dont actually know when it takes place?? im really bad at math. There was a moment where rainbow was supposed to be 23 and i somehow accidentally made her 17 lmfao

[enriquemzn262]

Funny how 4/20 went from weed day to young edgelord day.

[miffy-junot]

WAIT I JUST FOUND OUT SOMETHING SO SHOCKING

APPARENTLY I SHARE A BIRTHDAY WITH MARIE-LOUISE??????

I am genuinely so upset over this 😭

[steelycunt]

my fav thing to keep me entertained is to look up what things happened on my birthday in musical history... you're telling me guitarist Joe Strummer (John Graham Mellor) DIED ON MY BIRTHDAY?? also the abbey road cover was. taken on my bday so that's sick ig

maybe you are him reincarnated...welcome back JOE STRUMMER

[smileycube]

[apho-sappho]

I'm like so excited for my birthday even tho I don't really have a good reason for that

[dollishmehrayan]

# BATBOYS WITH A CLASSIC LITERATURE LOVER ── .✦ ( batboys with a s/o who loves/majors in literature )

a/n: this is requested by my amazing @kvfkas 🫶💕, I Lowkey for some reason also love literature too but like it’s hard for me to open a new book because I’m like so busy almost everyday but anywayss && I still can’t get over that one of my record players BROKE. So I can’t play my vinyls until I buy a new one which I ordered yesterday. Tags: (batboys x classic literature lover)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick thinks it’s adorable how much you love classic literature. He often finds you curled up with a book that looks like it’s been through several lifetimes, the pages dog-eared and filled with your meticulous annotations.

He loves watching you get animated when you talk about your favorite books, even if he sometimes gets lost when you start referencing ancient Greek tragedies or 19th-century poetry.

“Wait, so you’re saying Achilles was in love with Patroclus? Why didn’t they just say that in school?”

If you major in classics, Dick would try to support you by attending your lectures or even helping you prep for exams. He’d quiz you on authors and historical contexts, even if he can barely pronounce some of the names.

Romantic Moments: On your birthday, he surprises you with a first edition copy of your favorite book, complete with a handwritten note tucked inside the front cover. “I don’t understand half of what’s in this book, but I know it makes you happy, so that’s all that matters.”

He’d ask you to read to him sometimes, enjoying the sound of your voice as much as the words themselves. "You make these stories sound even better, you know that?"

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason is completely enamored with how passionate you are about classic literature. He gets it; books saved his life, too.

He finds your annotations fascinating and sometimes steals your books to read through them, not just for the story, but to get a glimpse into how your mind works.

“You think Heathcliff is a terrible person, but you still love him? Explain that one to me.” He’d genuinely love hearing your reasoning, even if it ends in a spirited debate.

If you’re majoring in classics, Jason would definitely tease you about it: “So, what, you’re gonna be the next Indiana Jones but with books?” But deep down, he’s incredibly proud of you. (He has dreams of being a literature professor)

Romantic Moments: One day, he surprises you with a day trip to a small, dusty bookstore he found, knowing it’s exactly your kind of place. “Take your time. I’ve got all day,” he says, leaning against a shelf as you lose yourself in the aisles.

He’d also write little notes on scraps of paper and leave them in your books when you’re not looking: “You’re way cooler than Jane Eyre.” “That’s a lie jason.”

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim would be absolutely in awe of your love for classic literature. He’s a voracious reader himself, so he’d immediately start asking for recommendations.

He’s amazed by how thoughtful and detailed your annotations are. He’ll flip through one of your books and go, “You should publish these. People would pay good money for your insights.”

If you’re majoring in classics, Tim would make it his mission to help you however he can. Need to translate something from Latin or Greek? He’s on it. Got a big paper due? He’ll proofread it for you.

Romantic Moments: On a particularly stressful day, he sets up a cozy reading nook for you, complete with your favorite snacks and a stack of books he thought you’d like. “Figured you could use some time to unwind.”

He’d get into the habit of reading the same books as you so he can discuss them with you. “Okay, but why does everyone hate Tess of the d’Urbervilles? I think she deserved better.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian would find your love of classic literature incredibly admirable. He appreciates intellectual pursuits and sees your passion as a sign of your depth and intelligence.

He’d be the one to challenge your opinions on certain characters or themes, sparking debates that sometimes last for hours.

“I fail to see why Mr. Darcy is considered romantic. He was insufferable for most of the novel.” But he secretly loves how animated you get defending your point.

(I’m gonna age him up for this one NO NSFW THOUGH HE’S STILL A MINOR BUT JUST FOR THE SAKE OF MAJORS) If you’re majoring in classics, Damian would take great pride in your academic achievements. He’d even start reading some of the books you mention, just so he can keep up with you.

Romantic Moments: He’d commission a custom leather-bound edition of your favorite book, embossed with your initials on the cover. “For someone as remarkable as you, only the finest will suffice.”

He’d also secretly annotate one of the books you’ve been wanting him to read and leave it for you to find. His notes are sharp, insightful, and, of course, slightly snarky.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce has always been a lover of knowledge, so he’d find your love for classic literature incredibly endearing.

He’d be genuinely impressed by your annotations and sometimes ask to borrow your books just to see your thoughts on them.

“You’ve given me a new perspective on The Great Gatsby,” he’d say after flipping through your copy.

If you’re majoring in classics, Bruce would offer to fund any research or study trips you need. “A visit to Greece would certainly enhance your studies. Consider it an investment.”

Romantic Moments: He’d host a quiet evening in the Wayne library, just for the two of you. The fireplace crackles softly as you sit side by side, reading and sharing passages that resonate with you.

He’d also make a habit of surprising you with rare editions of your favorite books, each one more breathtaking than the last.

[anneofkeys]

Happy Birthday to my Boi!

happy birthday to my favorite scoliosis king!!!

he was the target of my second longest hyperfixation and im not even british

anyway take a look at his skeleton

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Historical Au: Slave!Jinwoo x Noble!Reader ◛⑅˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 036 ✦ ┆・

‼️[ TW: Slavery, Violence, Yandere Jinwoo, Familial Abuse, strong language. Please don't read this fic if it is triggering or uncomfortable for you. I do not condone slavery nor do encourage such acts. This is simply a work of fiction ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Cai Bot Link ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Devotion or Obsession? ] ¡! ❞

"A gift for you, my dear child" Your father mused as an 18 year old teenager, tattered and chained, was dragged to the floor and forced to kneel in-front of you Jinwoo looked up at you with expressionless gray eyes, his face was covered in dirt and his shirt was extremely filthy. "Hi." Jinwoo greeted you humbly.

"Father!" You shrieked, flicking the fabrics of your dress as you hurriedly knelt towards the slave and tried to support his limp figure.

He was hardly even concious with his bleary and sleepy eyes, his clothes are covered in grime and dirt as his face was dusted with blood and something else. He looked not much older nor younger than you, and yet all this man was made of was skin and bones.

"Why so upset, my dear?" Your father sneers, humming as he swirls a glass of wine in his his hand. "It's your birthday after all. Daddy thought that should be gifted, no?"

"But I didn't ask for a slave or anything at all!" You protest, only to be met by a domineering glare that instantly made you close your mouth.

"Be grateful, you goddamn pig" He bites, making you feel even more terrified than you already were. "If it weren't for the fact your fucking wench of a mother making a goddamn fuss before dying you wouldn't be here. The least you could do is accept whatever the fact I give you"

He calms down, continuing "That child was only a few silver coins. If you dont want him I could always give him to your sisters or work him to death."

"N-no!" You protest immediately, shivering at the thought of what your father might decide to do. "I-I'll keep him... I'll take care of him."

"There's a good girl," He chuckles, "Start with the imprinting."

You gulp, anxiously looking at Jinwoo who was tired beside you, he looked like he just wanted to to be done with everything.

"Your... Uhm..." His eyes would sweep towards you with an empty grey gaze. "Name?"

"Jinwoo." He says shortly.

"Alright, uhm, Jinwoo..." You hold your palm out. "It'll tickle, I have't done this before s-so—"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, stretching his scarred left hand towards yours and pressing it together.

You tremble at the touch, not of disgust— But instead you were nervous. If you screw this up, you might get another beating or worse,... Something might happen to Jinwoo.

So with the little mana you hold; you started pouring energy out as a soft gentle light comes as the brilliant and pretty things somehow turned into pitch black and purple shadows— Twisting and churning before attaching themselves to both of your ring fingers.

Jinwoo seemed unamused, but your father certainly was.

"Now, get out of my sight" Your father simply said after recovering from the spectacle. "Your sisters are about to arrive, you bring a sour expression to their wonderful faces, so leave"

You could only respond with a polite bow as you helped Jinwoo up to his feet and guided him out of the main house.

There wasn't even a carriage prepared for the both of you as you silently walked towards the far west inside a forest and then finally arriving at a crude but somehow decent looking manor.

Jinwoo watched and followed you as you guided him to a dusty bedroom and sat him down before fetching a small chest with ointments and bandages. Though his gaze was still empty, he was looking at you with curiosity, wondering why exactly you're doing this.

"I'm your slave," Jinwoo breaks the silence. "Aren't you supposed to leave this to your servants?"

"Hahah... Sorry." You apologize, making him quirk up an eyebrow. "Your master is pathetic, I have no servant in my name."

He doesn't question that situation, instead asking; "Then why do it yourself? I can patch myself up just fine."

"Maybe... Because I feel guilty?" You fidget, applying ointment on him after wiping his arm. "It's my... Birthday and yet because of it you're here. I'm sorry."

"Don't." He simply said, not meeting your eyes as he looks out to the distant skies. outside your broken window. "It's not your fault. And besides, here is better than just wherever."

The silence ensues, nothing much being said any further as you directed Jinwoo to an empty room. He was given a decent place to sleep in. It was odd, since this bedroom seemed more comfortable compared to yours that was even more shabby and dusty.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It an odd situation, not once did you have ever treat Jinwoo as a slave, you were often on your own in your little garden at the backyard and farming vegetables for both of you to eat.

Jinwoo actively avoided you for quite a while, before deciding that since he lives with you and is technically leeching off of you— He might as well be useful.

And in those days where he helped you, the walls that Jinwoo had built around himself crumbled the more time passed by.

For a while, he was happy, you were happy.

You were both happy.

That was until you had to attend a gathering with your family that had abandoned you.

Of course, you had to dress in your shabby and outdated dress, to which everyone in the ballroom responds with mockery and spite. Jinwoo expected it, sure he's mad, but there's nothing he could do since he is nothing more but a damn slave who cant even defend his own master.

With heads hung low like cowards, the both of you decided to just stay in a corner and be as far away from any and all interactions. It went well for the first hour.

Admiring the brilliant lights and listening to wonderful music around you. Nobility is truly such a beautiful thing, golden plates, silver spoons, brilliant and gleaming jewels stitched into fine fabrics made by highly respectable and sought after tailors.

Jinwoo wanted to admire the scene with you, he truly did.

After all, he spent most of his days being dragged through the mud, his body being flogged over and over just for the fun of a drunk knight, or worse— Hard labour with only a piece of bread you can barely chew on due to how hard it is.

Compared to the grueling days he spent sleeping on the dirt, compared to the devastation he had as he cradled his dearly beloved little sister's corpse when she died of starvation— The sight of these luxurious tiles is mercy upon his pitiful soul.

...

Jinwoo's face drained of it's colours as he watches your elder sister yell at you for simply trying to greet her. A simple greet.

That was all it took for you to be on your knees frantically saying sorry with your voice as humble and as quiet as it can be.

He felt so hopeless, so frozen as he sees your pretty face scrunch in grief at your own actions that isnt even in the wrong in the first place.

So why must you kneel? Why must you humiliate yourself like this?

They stare at you with those sly eyes, as if finding your misery a source of entertainment. Sneers and chuckles would come with each insult being thrown your way.

Was it your fault you were born as the bastard child of the duke when it was your father who willingly went to brothels and slept with multiple women. It was only your mother who stepped up confidently to demand your father to take you in despite the fact that she is currently dying of birth complications. Your mother did all of that just so you could live a comfortable life.

And instead here you were, being punished over something you didn't do.

Isn't family supposed to love eachohter? Jinwoo loved his baby sister so much. So why is he watching another older sibling throw wine at their own blood just for breathing?

Jinwoo felt so... Devastated, his dear companion, his master. His own master— Is being ridiculed right in front of him.

The person he was sold to, the person who took care of him—

"Don't touch him, eonnie!" You scream, throwing yourself right in front of Jinwoo despite the fact you're already soaking wet from the wine splattered all over your pretty face and your already ruined dress. "Please, he's innocent. He's imprinted to me, but he shouldn't receive any punishment. We'll go, eonnie, we'll go. Please don't touch him."

You're protecting him.

That bastard woman would have continued her assault if it werent for her dear father stopping her and saying it's a waste of time dealing with a bunch of lowlifes.

Thus, the two of you were escorted— No, thrown out the main palace.

Jinwoo followed behind you towards the path of your shabby manor, and as the blowing wind caressed your skins,... You broke down.

"Sorry, sorry, Jinwoo." You sob as the man threw his arms around you. "I'm sorry, it was my fault, you shouldn't have seen that. I'm so sorry, Jinwoo. I really am. Please forgive me. Don't be mad at me.

"Why are you asking me those questions?" He asks, his soft voice barely even able to control his trembling voice. "You're my owner, shouldn't I be begging for forgiveness?"

"No, no," You sob even louder.

And Jinwoo couldn't do anything else but comfort you.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo didnt know how, but he managed to put you into sleep right after taking you home. He delivered some spare clothes to you for you to change in. He tucked you in under the shabby blankets and watched over you.

His gaze was stuck on you, contemplating deeply while guilt slowly clawed at his heart.

Tap, Tap, Tap.

"You'll get her killed." A voice suddenly says, and Jinwoo shot up, blocking his arm in front of you as you slept.

"Who—"

"Shut up"

The voice suddenly came from behind him, and when Jinwoo looked back— He could see a pair of purple eyes glaring at him. He can't quite see the face of the man, it was too pitch black and the moon isnt out tonight. He tried grabbing the vase on the sidetable but something had stopped him.

He can't quite tell, but it was as if the air itself is holding him back as those wicked and purple eyes glanced at him from the darkness right beside your sleeping form.

"You really think a damn vase can scare off an intruder?" The man scoffs. "You're pathetic."

"Who are you?" Jinwoo asks again, struggling to move as quiet murmurs surrounded him.

"Some guy" He answers.

"You must be one of those—"

"Ssh." The purple eyes gaze up at him again. "You'll wake the princess up with your voice."

Jinwoo shut his mouth, biting down on his lip as once again he felt so utterly hopeless. Not to mention the air around the stranger was absolutely wicked and somehow... Demonic? Otherwordly?

It was a feeling akin to staring at the abyss, the unkown that makes your skin crawl and itch.

That man is dangerous.

Dangerous But Not Hostile.

"That sister of hers," The man starts, his voice a little tense. "Will get her killed in a few years."

"Excuse me?"

"She'll die, and her blood will be on you, Jinwoo" He grits his teeth. "Just like your sister's who died from starvation, just like your mother who died from sickness, just like your father who died in your arms saving you from a bandit— Her blood will be on your hands just like theirs that is already on you."

"....."

"So quiet, now, huh? You're crying?" He sneers, the voice suddenly coming from behind him. "Crying wont do you any good, you fucking idiot."

"So what exactly do you want me to do?" Jinwoo yells, struggling as he tried to face the man. "I'm not strong, I'm built like a twig. I'm trying, okay? But I'm just a slave. This house is goddamn shabby, I've been trying to fix everything but it's lacking. I can barely even help in the farm, not to mention it's almost winter soon and if she wont die by that bitch's hands then she'll die because of this house! What the hell do you think I can do? I'm trying here and nothing is working!"

"...."

Of course he doesn't want to be in this situation either. Who does? He already lost his family, his blood, his precious kin— All gone and he couldnt do anything about. It was a hopeless situation. Of course, he tried getting a job in the capital since you let him roam as he pleases. He tried some odd jobs, several of them ranging from ordinary helper jobs to cleaning shoes to selling newspapers; nothing is working.

He lost his family because of his weakness, and because of that same weakness he'll loose you too.

"Hypothetically, you are given a guide to becoming extremely strong to protect her but in the process you loose your sanity along the way as well as your emotions" The voice says, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room as he walked around Jinwoo like a ghost. "How far are you willing to go?"

"Farther than the limit."

"Even if you lose your limbs along the way?"

"Yes."

"Even if you get mauled by beasts?"

"Yes."

"Even if you go mad by the power you'll soon hold?"

"Yes."

"Even if you must become a murderer?"

"Yes."

"I'll do it."

"I'll do it all for her sake."

"Good" The voice hums, satisfied.

Jinwoo starts feeling dizzy, his legs giving in as he felt himself collapse on something soft.

"Protect her." The stranger's tone becomes gentle. "Where I failed to do so, be better than me. Devote yourself to her. Protect the heart that is more precious than anything in this world. Even if you go through hell, you must protect her. You must love her. Give her all the adoration you can ever give. Because I couldn't protect my princess. So don't make the same mistake."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo had received the system from that night ever since. He had been busy from then on, often going out in the day and coming back in the evenings tired but somehow... A little different.

He'd go on long trips sometimes, which you honestly didn't mind so long as he promises to come home.

Soon enough, that same lanky, 18 year old boy— Is suddenly a head taller than you that you physically have to strain your neck just so you can meet with him eye-to-eye. Jinwoo had become from a lanky boy to a different person in just a blink of an eye in a matter of months.

Each long week he disappears; he comes back even more mature and lax in his demeanour. The next thing you knew, Jinwoo enrolled himself as a hunter.

You're proud of him, of course you are.

That's your Jinwoo.

Your precious, precious and sweet Jinwoo who always stuck by your side even if you are a noble who had no servant to her name and a manor fit to be deemed as a haunted home.

The wealth would soon come pouring in with each succesful hunt Jinwoo goes through. And the more powerful his bounties were, the more famous he became. The money he accumulated directly went into rebuilding the shabby manor into an opulent home worthy of a duke's daughter. Your filthy, ragged dresses were replaced by finely crafted fabrics. Your neck and ears would be adorned in the meek but captivating jewelry.

Of course, he still had that title of slave over his head but weirdly enough... Jinwoo seemed to carry it as a badge of honor.

Why?

Because he was yours.

What he is, is yours.

Naturally, jealous eyes come your way as the your dear hunter is now the most sought after. Who wouldn't want him anyway? Tall, handsome, a hunter— He is the embodiment of what is lusted for with a man.

And yet he never once bat an eye to those arrogant nobles who offered him the finest of fine wealth could ever give.

Love letters from all over the kingdom pine for your precious Jinwoo.

And yet he still chose you.

Those steely grey eyes of him would solely be for you and you only.

He looked a you like you are his precious goddess.

You Jinwoo is so... So Innocent and lovely.

Even as he held your father's severed head on his hand.

Even as a pool of blood puddled beneath his feet. Even as his grey orbs have turned purple. Even as the opulent pearl tiles reflected his maddened figure.

Your Jinwoo is just so... So lovely.

His heart, oh, his heart belonged to you. His innocent, pretty little master who looks up at him with a bewildered but awestruck gaze— He knew you weren't mad.

"I did it all for you, princess" Jinwoo would coo, cupping your face and swiping his thumb affectionately over cheek. "They were trying to make you cry again. We can't have that"

He whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "After all, I am yours. We're already binded by a contract. Even if it didn't exist I'd still choose the same choice I have made now."

He holds up his hand, pressing his palm against yours as the tattooes rings on your ring fingers glowed purple.

"See? Even our mark is like wedding rings" He intertwines your fingers together before bringing it up to his lips and kissing the mark on you. "It's okay. It's okay. This is for your own good."

"This is all for your sake, my precious god."

"This bloodbath is an offering for you."

꒰ A/N: idk what I made nor do I wanna know. The plot is all over the place wheeze. I'm quaking at writer's block. I should not write for Jinwoo until I get the energy back. I'm so mindblocked with him maybe it's because I cant draw fanart of him atm. ahhhhhhhhhh ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[michel-feuilly]

Joyeux anniversaire, Maréchal Ney!

Traditional annual art on the birthday of an important historical figure for me

[neechees]

Historical Indigenous Women & Figures [6]:

Queen Nanny: the leader of the 18th century Maroon community in Jamaica, she led multiple battles in guerrilla war against the British, which included freeing slaves, and raiding plantations, and then later founding the community Nanny Town. There are multiple accounts of Queen Nanny's origins, one claiming that she was of the Akan people from Ghana and escaped slavery before starting rebellions, and others that she was a free person and moved to the Blue Mountains with a community of Taino. Regardless, Queen Nanny solidified her influence among the Indigenous People of Jamaica, and is featured on a Jamaican bank note. Karimeh Abboud: Born in Bethlehem, Palestine, Karimeh Abboud became interested in photography in 1913 after recieving a camera for her 17th birthday from her Father. Her prestige in professional photography rapidly grew and became high demand, being described as one of the "first female photographers of the Arab World", and in 1924 she described herself as "the only National Photographer". Georgia Harris: Born to a family of traditional Catawba potters, Harris took up pottery herself, and is credited with preserving traditional Catawba pottery methods due to refusing to use more tourist friendly forms in her work, despite the traditional method being much more labour intensive. Harris spent the rest of her life preserving and passing on the traditional ways of pottery, and was a recipient of a 1997 National Heritage Fellowship awarded by the National Endowment for the Arts, which is the highest honor in the folk and traditional arts in the United States. Nozugum: known as a folk hero of the Uyghur people, Nozugum was a historical figure in 19th century Kashgar, who joined an uprising and killed her captor before running away. While she was eventually killed after escaping, her story remains a treasured one amongst the Uyghur. Pampenum: a Sachem of the Wangunk people in what is now called Pennsylvania, Pampenum gained ownership of her mother's land, who had previously intended to sell it to settlers. Not sharing the same plans as her mother, Pampenum attempted to keep these lands in Native control by using the colonial court system to her advantage, including forbidding her descendants from selling the land, and naming the wife of the Mohegan sachem Mahomet I as her heir. Despite that these lands were later sold, Pampenum's efforts did not go unnoticed. Christine Quintasket: also known as "Humishima", "Mourning Dove", Quintasket was a Sylix author who is credited as being one of the first female Native American authors to write a novel featuring a female protagonist. She used her Sylix name, Humishima, as a pen name, and was inspired to become an author after reading a racist portrayal of Native Americans, & wished to refute this derogatory portrayal. Later in life, she also became active in politics, and helped her tribe to gain money that was owed them. Rita Pitka Blumenstein: an Alaskan Yup'ik woman who's healing career started at four years old, as she was trained in traditional healing by her grandmother, and then later she became the first certified traditional doctor in Alaska and worked for the Alaska Native Tribal Health Consortium. She later passed on her knowledge to her own daughters. February 17th is known as Rita Pitka Blumenstein day in Alaska, and in 2009 she was one of 50 women inducted into the inaugural class of the Alaska Women's Hall of Fame Olivia Ward Bush-Banks: a mixed race woman of African American and Montaukett heritage, Banks was a well known author who was a regular contributor to the the first magazine that covered Black American culture, and wrote a column for a New York publication. She wrote of both Native American, and Black American topics and issues, and helped sculptor Richmond Barthé and writer Langston Hughes get their starts during the Harlem Renaissance. She is also credited with preserving Montaukett language and folklore due to her writing in her early career.

part [1], [2], [3], [4], [5] Transphobes & any other bigots need not reblog and are not welcome on my posts.