#/ slavery mention

[e-vasong]

something something devils minion works in general but especially in the show because daniel is the only person who is uninterested in Armand, The Performance. Armand, who grew up a slave, who has spent his entire afterlife since shaping himself in whatever image will protect him best, who dons the demeanor that will ensure that he is Kept. Daniel, who couldn't care less about the act, who is disgusted by the deception for the simple fact that it is deception, one of the only beacons of truth in a show that is about distortion. who looks at Armand, The Person, in all his awfulness and cruelty and monstrous vulnerability, and says i knew it, there you fucking are. and he does this after having been on the wrong side of armands real self more than once. there can be no more pretense between them. its just that daniel loves him anyway. this is because daniel, too, is a nasty little freak--

[marzipanandminutiae]

hey, museum folks. on April 16, the ceiling in the library at Boscobel House collapsed unexpectedly

Before the collapse.

This New York mansion from 1806 was saved AFTER demolition in the 1950s, when the architectural elements were recovered and reassembled in another location near its original site. It's of great artistic and historical significance, not the least because the staff has been working on a project to document the lives of the family's Black servants- the ones who were free when hired, and the ones who had been enslaved by said family and freed before the house was finished -since 2020

if anyone can donate even a little bit to help with the recovery efforts, here is the link

[hogoflight]

WAIT TECHNICALLY TOA APOLLO RETALIATING AGAINST ZEUS’ ACTIONS POST-TOA (I don’t think him overthrowing Zeus is quite in character but for catharsis reasons sure) HILARIOUSLY MAKES SENSE WHEN YOU REMEMBER ROMAN LAWS ABOUT FATHERS SELLING THEIR SON INTO SLAVERY. first two times it’s fine but the after the THIRD you don’t have to take it!!

[newsfromstolenland]

A city councillor in Pickering is calling herself a “modern-day slave” after council voted to dock her pay for 30 days following an investigation by the city’s integrity commissioner.

Coun. Lisa Robinson made the comment in a post on Facebook on Tuesday.

Robinson’s remarks followed a ruling by the integrity commissioner which found that her decision to identify three citizens by name in a Facebook post in which she announced that her annual Halloween event for charity would be cancelled amounted to a “bully tactic” which showed “blatant disregard for the wellbeing of others.”

Council voted to have me work for free for the next 30 days for a ‘sarcastic remark’ on my personal FB post. I am now a modern day slave,” Robinson said in the Tuesday post.

Full article

Someone needs to explain to this white girl that having a month's pay docked for encouraging harassment of citizens she represents as a city councillor is not the same as fucking slavery.

Also there already is modern-day slavery in Canada, Lisa, and it's the prison system. Slavery is not you losing 30 days' pay for being an asshole.

[clove-pinks]

A serendipitous find: the Autumn 2020 issue of Sea History, publication of the National Maritime Historical Society of New York, with the article "Freedom and Whaling on Nantucket" by Skip Finley. It's all about Black and mixed race mariners, whalers, and shipowners on the island.

Sampson Dyer, early 19th century. A free man of Black and Wampanoag descent, he engaged in the China Trade and commissioned this portrait from the Chinese artist Spoilum, "who specialized in European-style paintings in oil of sea captains and both Chinese and Western merchants."

Captain Absalom F. Boston, by unknown artist c. 1835. A successful whaling captain and businessman, he also supported anti-slavery abolitionists and helped build a church and a school.

Arthur Cooper, portrait by Sally Gardner c. 1830. Cooper had been enslaved in Virginia and escaped to Nantucket between 1815 and 1818. When the Fugitive Slave Act threatened to send Cooper and his wife back to Virginia in 1822, the locals successfully drove away the slave catcher sent to retrieve him. In Skip Finley's words:

Francis Macy, a cousin of the prominent Rotch family, intervened along with “a large assemblage of persons,” including large numbers of both the black and white communities on the island, who had surrounded the house. Sylvanus Macy stepped up to suggest the power of attorney was a forgery and said, “We are not in Virginia now but in Yankee Town, and we want those colored people to man our whale ships and will not suffer them to be carried back to bondage.”

[sirfrogsworth]

I feel like these two libertarians compete with each other to post some of the dumbest memes in existence. And I'm pretty sure the only reason they keep getting shoved in my feed is because Elon follows them.

I remember when opposition research took effort. Now everything just comes directly to me and I think I prefer the effort.

Like, neither of them are smart enough to know how stupid their ideology actually is. But even by libertarian standards, these are some of the smoothest brains in the entire collective.

I don't understand how no one pulls them aside at the meetings and is all, "Maybe memes aren't your thing. You're kinda making us all look like idiots. Maybe just post some Ayn Rand quotes and call it a day."

Not that I have to explain it, but...

Workers share losses by not being workers anymore.

No one thinks insulin is free. We are suggesting that tax money be allocated so it is free at point of service. Perhaps by taxing the wealthy or not manufacturing tanks we don't use.

We use tax money for social good all the time. Insulin is such a weird place for folks to draw the line. Like...

Firetrucks. Yes. Roads. Yes. Public schools. Yes. Life-saving medication... well that is just too far.

And the free cotton thing does not make any sense. How is a capitalist slave owner... nope, not worth trying to figure out.

[venus-is-in-bloom]

In Dungeon Meshi, Laios and Senshi go out of their way to befriend orcs despite the taboo against this. At the end when Laios becomes king, he integrates orcs and kobolds into mainstream society, and the very last panel of the series shows this. Marcille also learns to accept orcs through cooking with them during the episode you mentioned.

The fact that the physical differences orcs have are meaningless and arbitrary is also discussed, and I believe the issue is taken seriously. Racism is also addressed seriously at other points in the series, such as the mistreatment of Izutsumi, an escaped slave. Ultimately, Dungeon Meshi is about food and not racism, but I think it's a series that makes an effort with social commentary.

ok, this is precisely the kind of thing i'm talking about when i say "racism is taken as either fact or a joke". it is not serious. marcille's genocidal prejudice towards orcs is treated as her "by-default" state. there's no reason for it given, nothing is explored there—it's because she's a half-elf. it is a fact of the universe and not the product of politics. and then the "solution" to this is interpersonal bonding? every milquetoast colonisers' message about anti-racism since the invention of the notion has had this sorry excuse baked in, the idea that racism comes about because people who are set apart by nature simply don't know each other enough, rather than because the dehumanisation of racial subjects builds national consent for atrocities. it disappears the true history and replaces it with conciliatory lies. is that "making an effort"?

i do not remember any commentary on the institution of slavery regarding izutsumi. she was a slave until she escaped; her former owner, toshiro, is not judged for having imprisoned or used her and in fact the circumstances in which he did so are not to my knowledge even questioned, only described. her resentment of her enslavers is only a character feature, much like her "rebellious" nature and bad manners. it is nothing more than normalisation.

[marzipanandminutiae]

southern gothic crimson peak. that’s it.

The thing about Southern Gothic is that, if you do it with any kind of conscientiousness, you’re going to run into slavery. sooner or later. Having grown up in the south, I can attest that if there’s a big gorgeous house from anytime before the Civil War, the original owners almost certainly enslaved people there. And while that can be a fascinating thematic throughline for deep literary southern Gothic – it’s certainly a horrible family history – it’s not as good for Fun Gothic With BlorbosTM.

(slavery also happened in the northern US, to be clear. For fiction purposes, though, you can go further back in history without encountering it than you can in the south.)

Like. If there’s a big old crumbling house in the south, even if it’s a modern story, there’s a 99% chance that the looming specter of slavery is going to overshadow the characters’ interpersonal interactions. And this is one story where I prefer focusing on the interpersonal interactions

I guess you could have Allerdale built after the war if it’s a modern version? So then you don’t feel as bad focusing on smushing the characters together like dolls while whispering “now kiss?”

[whumperofworlds]

I'll Always Be Here

Now on AO3!

Fandom: Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles (OC centric)

A/N: Not too whumpy, but I feel this still applies on this blog LOL. I mean, nightmares suck right? Better give it to my sweet poor guy! Also, it's Gulru and Rae's debut on this blog!!! I loved these two, and it's been a while since I wrote them so. Yeah!

I only own Rae and Gulru. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

CWS: Nightmares, crying, romantic Caretaker x Whumpee, male whumpee, referenced death, referenced kidnapping, referenced slavery, tied up, food mention

ENJOY!

_____

I'll Always Be Here

He couldn't move.

The Thundara spell had paralyzed Gulru, preventing him from moving his body. The electricity sparked around him, and if he moved a muscle, the spell did its work, shocking him slightly. His breathing grew heavy and quickly, as he tried to breathe to no avail thanks to the panic attack rearing its head.

In front of him was Jack Moschet, grinning wide and with hatred filling his eyes, his arms crossed as he watched Gulru struggle. Behind Jack was Gulru's dear Rae, tied to the large, broken pillar, his hands wrenched behind his back. The Clavat's eyes were wide with fear and guilt, as he watched Gulru struggle to stand.

It hit Gulru then. Gulru tried to rescue Rae from Jack's clutches, but he too was caught. Rae was bait for Gulru, and the Yuke fell for the trap, hook, line, and sinker.

"Stupid bird," Jack mocked. "Don't you realize what you've done?"

Gulru flinched at Jack's voice, wanting to scoot away, but due to the paralysis, he couldn't. He whimpered, wanting to get far away from his former master as soon as possible. He needed to get away. He needed to save Rae.

"P-please…" Gulru stuttered, "Let Rae go! Y-you got me, just let him go, please!"

"And let him come after me once I'm through with you?" Jack laughed. "Ha! You're so stupid as always, boy!"

Tears began to fall down from the eyes of his helm, as Gulru whimpered and sniffled. This couldn't be happening. All he wanted was Rae back. But because of his foolishness, he'd never see Rae again. And it was all his fault.

"For what you've done to me," Jack growled, raising his gigantic hand. His claws shone in the sunlight that peeked over the broken roof of Moschet's Mansion. "I'll kill you right here!"

"NO!" Gulru could hear Rae scream out from behind Jack. Rae strained and struggled against his bonds, as tears fell down his face. He sobbed before he begged, "Don't kill him, please! Gulru! GULRU!"

Gulru shook his head, as more tears continued to flow down his helm. No. No no no. This couldn't be happening. He didn't want to die like this. Not when Rae was in danger. Not when he had just tasted freedom for the first time. Not like this.

Jack's claws flew down, aiming straight for Gulru's neck—

_____

Gulru gasped as he sat up, sweat beading down his helm. If he had eyes, they would be wide as saucers right now. His heart pounded, as he breathed heavily from the nightmare he had.

Wait… nightmare?

Gulru glanced at his surroundings. It was mostly dark, but he could still see where he was. He was in the tent that the caravanners set up for the night, with everyone still asleep in their sleeping bags. Beside him, also sleeping in a sleeping bag, was Rae, alive and safe.

Alive and safe…

Gulru placed a wing to his chest, trying to calm himself down from the nightmare he had. Tomorrow was another day of collecting myrrh—he needed to sleep. But his racing heart wouldn't calm down. He tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself, something that Rae had taught him whenever he got scared or nervous. But his racing heart continued to pound in his chest. He sighed.

He wasn't going to get any sleep at this rate. He needed some fresh air.

He carefully crawled out of his own sleeping bag, not wanting to wake the others. He didn't want to wake them over something so trivial as a nightmare, so it would be best to let them rest. His eyes adjusted to the dark then, as he carefully stepped over his comrades until he reached the entrance of the tent. Quietly unzipping the flap, he left the tent before zipping it back up; he didn't want to let the breeze wake his friends up.

He sighed, before turning to the remains of the campfire. Smoke rose from the gathered burnt wood, with small embers stuck to their tips. He looked ahead to see the carriage, the Paopamous also asleep. The carriage was the same as it was—at least the Striped Bandits hadn't found them here and tried to steal from the carriage.

He sat on one of the logs that were around the small campfire, watching the embers and black smoke slowly rise from the remains. His mind tried to focus, to focus away from the terrible nightmare he had. But every time he tried to think of something else, that nightmare came back. How Jack had attempted to kill him. Right in front of Rae, no less. And Rae… seeing Rae scared broke his heart. He always boasted how he was brave and would never back down. But at that moment, seeing Rae crying and fearful for Gulru's life scared the Yuke more than anything else.

And it was all Gulru's doing. He was caught because he was reckless trying to rescue Rae. And now not only was Gulru traumatized from that ordeal, Rae was as well.

"Because of you."

Jack's words to him before he attempted to kill Gulru echoed in his head.

"Because of you."

It kept repeating in his mind. Gulru held his helm with his wings, trying to shut out his former master's voice.

"Because of you. Because of you. Because of you."

It had been a year since Jack was killed after that incident. Why was his voice still haunting Gulru? Why?

Tears began to form in the eyes of his helm, as he sniffled. His body shook, as the voice continued to blame him for what had happened.

He tried to hold in a sob, but he failed to, as he held his face in his wings. His crying was muffled, careful not to be too loud as he continued to cry. The nightmare repeated itself in his mind, as he cried and cried.

"Gulru?"

Gulru stopped suddenly; he would have widened his eyes in surprise and shock if he had them. With trembling wings, he removed them from his wet helm before turning his head.

Peeking out from behind the flap of the tent was Rae, a small frown on his face. Upon seeing how wet his boyfriend's helm was, his eyes widened. He left the tent fully then, turning for a moment to zip the flap up, before he turned back to Gulru.

"R-Rae?" Gulru questioned, his helm red in embarrassment. Oh Cosmos, did he hear him cry? "D-did I wake you? I'm sorry, I didn't m-mean to—"

"No, it's okay," Rae whispered, "you didn't wake me up, I promise. I noticed you were gone and I had to check up on you." The Clavat studied Gulru's helm, to which Gulru looked away shyly. He didn't want Rae to see that he was crying over a dumb nightmare. "...You're crying."

Gulru shook his head, as if denying that he was crying. "I-I was… it's—"

"Oh Gul," Rae said with a voice full of sympathy and worry. He walked towards the log Gulru was sitting in before joining the Yuke. He took Gulru's wing, gently squeezing it; it was Rae's way of telling Gulru that everything was okay, that he was safe. "What happened? Who made you cry?"

Gulru frantically shook his head at the last question. He knew how protective Rae was to Gulru; he never forgot the one time a Selkie had yelled at Gulru to the point of tears, and Rae threatened the Selkie to apologize to the Yuke. It nearly got the group kicked out of the town due to Rae's actions.

"N-no one did," Gulru finally said after a few seconds. "I…" He paused, unsure if he should say what had happened. Would Rae be annoyed or laugh at him over his problem? It was so trivial—nightmares had happened to Gulru before, and they never bothered him as much as this one.

But feeling Rae's warm hand and his worried expression pushed Gulru to at least tell him. Rae never judged him during the few years they knew each other. He wouldn't judge him over something like this.

"I-I had a nightmare," Gulru sighed, tears beginning to form in his eye holes again.

Rae only nodded, squeezing Gulru's wing. A cue to keep going.

"Jack… he kidnapped you," Gulru continued, his voice slowly cracking, "a-and I tried to save you, but he caught me… and he killed me. You were tied up a-and you couldn't do anything… I was scared, you were scared, and I-I…" He couldn't hold the tears any longer, as he buried his face with his free wing and began to sob.

Rae's frown intensified, scooting closer to Gulru. He released his hold on Gulru's other wing, before wrapping an arm around the trembling Yuke.

"Hey…" Rae soothed, "it's okay. It's just a nightmare. We're both safe."

"B-but," Gulru hiccupped, sniffling as he tried to wipe away the tears. They kept coming, however. "It was all my fault. If I-I had paid more attention, you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped and hurt. None of that would have happened if I wasn't s-so stupid—"

"Gulru," Rae piped up firmly, shocking the Yuke. Gulru turned to see Rae's face, noticing the narrowed eyes. He wanted to scoot away, feeling that he made Rae angry at him, but Rae held firm. "Don't ever call yourself stupid again."

"...What?" Gulru whimpered.

"It hurts me to see you depreciate yourself, Gul," Rae continued, his narrowed eyes changing into concerned ones. "You didn't do anything. Jack is the one at fault in all of that, not you. And even if you are at fault, you fixed it by coming for me. You even killed Jack by yourself." He leaned on Gulru, his head on the Yuke's shoulder. "You saved me, Gulru. And I'm alive. You're alive. We're both safe. You're my hero that day, and even now."

Gulru sniffled, the tears finally stopping. He wiped away a stray tear that fell, before he asked, "Y-you think so?"

"I know so, Gul," Rae confirmed. "You're brave, and strong in your magic… you're definitely a hero to me."

"...Rae," Gulru whispered, reaching out to hold Rae's hand again. The Clavat took it, squeezing his wing. "I-I'm sorry that I made you worry."

"It's okay," Rae whispered back, a small smile on his face. "Just know that I'll always be here. Always."

"And the same goes to you too, dear," Gulru chuckled, scooting closer to his beloved. If he had a mouth, he would be smiling. Smiling that he was lucky to have a boyfriend like Rae.

At the corner of Gulru's eye, he spotted a small bright light shining from across the hill. He gasped, seeing the sun slowly rising from behind the hill. The sun's rays shone, its light brightening up the dirt roads and the trees, giving them more color. It was beautiful; it shone just like the giant crystal that Gulru had seen in Tipa. How long were they sitting here, talking it out? Gulru wasn't sure. But he didn't mind at all.

"Wow," Rae piped up in awe, his eyes sparkling. "It's been a while since I saw the sunrise. This is beautiful!"

"I-it is," Gulru agreed. Despite seeing it many times, Gulru never took the sunrise for granted; after over a decade as Jack's slave, he missed the little things such as this.

The two watched the sunrise together, cuddled up to each other and enjoyed the view. It wasn't until a few hours later did the two heard stirring in the tent nearby.

Rae reluctantly released his hold on Gulru before standing, much to the Yuke's disappointment. But he understood why; it was another day of collecting myrrh.

"I gotta go make some breakfast," Rae said, stretching his arms up with a sigh.

"I-I can help," Gulru offered, also standing. "I got enough ingredients to make some apple fritters."

Rae smiled at his beloved, nodding to accept his offer. "Sounds great! Thanks, Gully."

Gully… another nickname. That's so cute.

The two began their work on breakfast, their bond stronger than ever after that night.

[marvelstars]

Star Wars: Episode I - The Phantom Menace Adventures TPB :: Profile :: Dark Horse Comics

"You get used to it" - Anakin Skywalker

[annebrontesrequiem]

The musical 1776 is one of those musicals you have to beg people on your knees to watch because everyone thinks it's gonna be propagandist bullshit and you have to desperately convince them it's actually incredibly insightful (especially for its time) and (unlike the other musicalTM) actually acknowledges quite starkly how deeply ingrained slavery was within the lives of the founding fathers, not just in the southern colonies but also in the northern ones.

[whumped-by-glitter]

The Morning Dasa's Life Began to Change

CW: institutionalized slavery, captivity, bondage

here is a very whumpy excerpt from chapter 2, it takes place the morning of Annika's birthday. I am working on edits still, so aspects may change slightly by the time I post the entire chapter.

word count: 2,066

The slave, who was only called dog, stood spread eagle in his master’s front yard, his arms and legs held taut, and outstretched between two pillars, bound by a force pulling at the bands on his wrists and ankles. two bars were slid through brackets, on both pillars, one at his throat, one at the back of his neck to deter any forward or backward slumping. His well-defined muscles were far past the point of screaming from lack of movement, His black, medium length hair was matted with days of sweat and grime. He'd lost count of how long he’d been out there, 3 days maybe? His master would show up three times a day to beat him and force him to eat. He was never starved for punishment, like the other slaves, because he was being trained to resist, properly identify, and neutralize poisons. Missing meals would mean missing doses, which could screw up any resistance he’d built up, which had taken almost 20 years to establish. He was only being held here, this time because a younger slave, referred to as boy, was stealing food. Dog had taken the blame, to protect the starving kid, who was banned from food because their master’s lazy son Balor was not pleased with how long it had taken Boy to buy more snacks.

The sun began to rise, and the people of the Fief had begun to move about. Some of the passers- by would look at him with pity. Others would poke fun at his predicament, or giggle. Some of the Arcturian children would throw stones or mud, from the gutters, at him. Dog was insensible and numb to all of this by now. For the Drar, such treatment was commonplace. He was an enslaved people.  The position Dog now found himself in was his master, Corvius’s, favorite punishment for him.

The Drar were a race that had incredible physical strength, and heightened senses, like wild animals. They were actually the only race of Balthia that did not possess any magic, in fact they were more sensitive to it being used on them, but their senses and strength more than made up for it. Even their eyes looked animalistic, amber yellow with slit pupils. They also boasted incredibly fast healing, however, dog unfortunately did not, likely due to the poisons he had to drink every day. Dog was also not as strong as other Drar probably for the same reason. He was stronger than the Istrians and definitely stronger than Arcturians though.

As the sun rose higher dog started to grow concerned. Master Atheris should have been outside by now. Did Corvius forget about him? Did Corvius decide to just leave him out here, and to start fresh, with one of the younger slaves? Doubts whirled through his head, which was bound to happen when he had nothing to do but think. It was like torture, to suddenly change a routine when he was in such a vulnerable position.

Finally, after hours, Boy appeared. Relief spread through Dog, followed immediately by confusion. Then Boy started to slide the bars out of their slots, which confused Dog and caused more than a little bit of panic to arise in him. “Wh-what are you doing?” dog asked, in hushed tones, his voice cracking a little, which betrayed concern for the younger slave.

“don’t worry, I’m on orders to get you cleaned up, I’m not helping you escape” Boy replied. He showed Dog Balor’s ring. Boy gave a wry smile when Dog sighed in relief. Boy released Dog's ankles. Then he released Dog’s wrists, first his right, causing dog’s body to slump back, onto Boy’s waiting shoulders. “Why do you do this to yourself?” Boy asked, “you would almost never be punished, if you weren’t constantly defending the rest of us” he said, releasing his other wrist, causing dog’s entire body to crumple and boy had to help him to the ground so he could recover for a moment. It was a relief to allow blood to start flowing back to his arms.

Dog shrugged in response “because, I know how much these suck, and it hurts me a lot worse than the actual treatment ever could to see someone else go through it.” He replied pensively, revealing what might be his biggest weakness, “besides, someone’s gotta look out for all of you. now shhh, you know we aren’t supposed to talk to each other”, talking, between slaves, was strongly discouraged not just by Corvius, but across the board.

Boy gave another wry smile as dog flexed, trying to restore blood flow to his stiff limbs, his muscles aching from prolonged disuse. Boy doubted their master had even realized how fitting the name “Dog” was. Dog was loyal to a fault, almost to the point of being stupid. As the oldest slave in the household, he always took it upon himself to look out for everyone else and protect them from Corvius and his lazy son Balor. The other slaves would sometimes jokingly call him Maso, short for masochist.

Once dog could at least stand, boy half dragged him into the bathhouse, to begin getting him cleaned up. Dog was dreading the cold water, when he realized it was warm. He had never once had a warm or even lukewarm bath. He closed his eyes and melted into it. It felt amazing on his still stiffened and somewhat atrophied muscles. Boy had to help him with his hair, as he still could barely lift his arms. To Dog’s surprise, Boy used real shampoo. This really started to concern dog, as normally, on the rare occasions they were allowed to bathe, it was cold water and only a bar of soap.

After he was cleaned up, Boy handed him a towel and brought in some clean clothes. He then carefully bandaged his still bleeding and thoroughly battered body. When dog started to dress, his concern grew, ‘what was going on?’ he thought. The fabric was soft and clean. The garments were new and had no holes at all. It was a simple black tunic and breeches, with red edging. Dog dressed quickly, not wanting to dawdle too long and get Boy in trouble.

A few minutes later Corvius waltzed in, followed by his portly son, who came waddling in after his father. Dog immediately knelt and bowed his head to the floor, a gesture of humble submission and obedience. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite lawn ornament” the old man sneered.

“And snack retriever!” Balor added dumbly, trying, and failing dismally, to parrot Corvius’s sneer.

Corvius walked around dog, assessing him, “that’ll have to do” he muttered before wrapping a blindfold over Dog’s eyes. Corvius was strictly averse to his slaves making eye contact, even by accident, with any free person.  It wasn’t uncommon for him to just blindfold them, when they were going to be around nobles. In fact, he had trained them, for a couple hours each evening, to function and even serve as usual, while blindfolded. It wasn’t unusual for slaves to wear lace coverings over their eyes, as the nobles found the Drar’s yellow, slit pupiled eyes, quite unsettling, however, Corvius took it to an extreme. “Get up, come with me dog” he ordered sharply, and dog rose, as gracefully as he could and followed obediently, sensing Boy’s eyes watching him intently, as he left the room.

He followed Corvius’s menacing tapping, as he’d put metal plates on the bottoms of his shoes to make himself more imposing. Dog wouldn’t need them to follow his master though, as the Drar have extremely good senses and their sense of smell is was keener than most wild animals. The same was true with hearing and sight, and Dog’s were even more developed from years of training. He could operate the same way, blindfolded or not.

The three of them got into a carriage. Once inside, dog took a spot on the floor, as he was not allowed to sit on the seats, as they were reserved for free persons. to Dog’s shock and surprise, Corvius, whose presence he could detect by scent alone, began to remove his bands one by one. The surprise must have registered on Dog's face, which was another taboo for slaves, because he received a painful prod from Balor with his ring, who sniggered wickedly. Dog dropped his face and resumed his usual void, neutral expression, once more. He fingered the skin around his neck, bands were put on the Drar from birth, so it always felt foreign not having one. ‘It isn’t time for resizing my bands, what is going on?’ He wished Master would tell him.

Then, one by one, they were replaced. However, these bands smelled different. They were of a different metal, gold. He began piecing together, bit by bit, what was going on at that point. Gold bands were strictly for slaves belonging to Royalty.

“hand” Corvius ordered coldly.

Dog obeyed and held out his hand, readying himself for the finger stick. It always made him jump a little for some reason, and attuning the stones was a little painful.

Corvius stabbed his finger hard with a needle. He then roughly squeezed out a drop of blood and pressed it to one ring until Dog let out a hiss, then repeated the process for a second ring.

These bands controlled the Drar’s whole lives. They were linked magically to a ring or rings their owners wore. The rings were simple with a small red stone on it. The stone was linked directly to a specific slave. The bands would cause immense pain if the slave even thought about disobeying, same with touching their own ring, and being too far away from their master. Any ring, the same status or higher could make the bands bind or unbind. This was to protect against rebellion. So, anyone with a gold ring had pseudo control over any slave. The Nobles, with their silver rings, had some command over silver and brass banded slaves. The commoners, with brass rings, only had control over brass banded slaves.

Although the bands only forced them to obey their master, they were still expected to obey everyone or face punishment. The only exception to this being if a command from someone else interfered with their master’s orders. It was a tough line to walk. Dog especially felt bad for brass bands, sometimes poorer communities would share slaves, to do work in the fields. The thought of having maybe a dozen owners made him shiver. However, he had often heard that they weren’t treated as badly, so maybe it wasn’t as awful. Dog had been a silver band. Silver and gold had to be always on point and were often used for entertainment, which often exposed them to more wanton cruelty. He himself had been used in a number of blood sports, which were referred to as “games”.

When the carriage stopped, Dog was ordered to exit. Before leaving, he was stopped by Balor, who placed gold irons on his wrists connected, behind his back, by a chain just long enough for him to reach about 6 inches in front of him, the same was done with his upper arms, but this chain was shorter, which kept his Upper arms at his sides. The two sets were connected vertically to prevent him from stepping over the chains and bringing his arms to the front, not that he would attempt it anyway. Dog was obedient to a self destructive degree.

Dog was led into what seemed to be a ballroom, based on the number of people and the amount of echoing that reverberated off the chamber’s walls. “Kneel, dog” Corvius growled, as he positioned him near the back of the room so that Corvius could go mingle with the rest of the nobility and elites. Dog obeyed, and gracefully took his place. He remained so still, that several women thought he was a manikin at first. That was another pet peeve of Corvius’s, excess fidgeting and swaying, even Dog's breathing had to be measured.

The sounds in the room suddenly changed, some kind of ceremony was beginning. Dasa’s chest tightened, he still didn’t fully understand what was going on and desperately hoped he wasn’t about to be entered in game, his body was still too stiff and sore.

taglist: @whumperofworlds, @3-2-whump, @wounds-seen-and-unseen, @aryox

Masterlist

[just-antithings]

The BG3 fandom is back at it again, harassing each other over… Astarion fans getting his scars tattooed on their bodies, because "Those are marks of slavery, and you guys should listen to black fans when they say it's offensive to get them tattooed."

Ya’ll, Astarion is a white man… and besides, the scar is a piece of a contract, not of ownership, but a contract with a devil that essentially sacrifices that soul to the devil

Those aren't symbols of enslavement. They're symbols of abuse

.

[evilwriter37]

I thought of this idea for another fandom but then I thought it could also work for httyd. Modern society twitter discourse about history.

Most of the dragons are still hidden away but in modern society a thousand years later knows dragon existed, there are sighting and maybe on rare occasion a captured dragons. Enough evidence to prove their existence. One of this evidences is Hiccup's story turned legend from the kingdom of Berk. Toothless lived for a 1000 years and every year after Hiccup's death he would visit the Chiefdom turned Kingdom so people can't really deny his existence.

They have the most well preserved historical records that would make all the historians go gaga over it.

The purpose of this ask is that I just casually imagined an unhinged history twitter discourse about Hiccup and his life. Like what would the people's assumption gonna be?

"All my life all I've heard is that King Hiccup III is a runt so why did I just found out that he's actually 6'1. if that's a runt what am I?"

"Everyone saying how kind and nice HHH3 is but he literally inventing killing machines as a kid!!! I mean that's how he basically shot down his dragon, it's just a miracle his dragon survived the fall"

"Lmao imagine you are a kind from the dark ages and somehow this goofy engineer shows you his sword that burst into flames. No wonder everyone thought he was a sorcerer or a demon"

"I know Viggo bad because dragon hunter and maybe a human slaver but the "Dear Hiccup" I know what you are"

Oh my god, that would be INSANE. These fake tweets are amusing me so much, oml. 😂😂😂 Thank you for sharing!