#The scold's bridle

[rosalie-starfall]

Dr. Sarah Blakeney

The Scold's Bridle - 1998

[hood-ex]

I'm reading about prisons for women in the 17th-19th centuries, and since women would be confined to male prisons (where they endured horrific abuse), I'm now thinking about sending Dick and Donna to prison together so they can protect the women from the men.

[kukushkakukushka]

German Scold’s Bridle

The mid-16th century saw the emergence of the German scold’s bridle, a brutal mechanism intended to chastise and mute individuals considered overly vocal. Constructed from iron and designed to encase the head, this painful device symbolized severe punitive measures.

[moocha-muses]

This one is also for @dunne-ias, and it's still about tongues.

The burning and drowning and stoning of witches had been forbidden in his own small corner of the world. It was a sop from the local leaders, suckling greedily at tit of Rationality to pretty themselves up, to whore themselves out to Logic as though Superstition had given them one too many vicious slaps. Witches were not real, and you could not bury an unreal thing in stones. And, in fact, he found himself in agreement with them. The idea that the Devil, having power to give away, might give it to women- frivolous, vicious, stupid, slatternly women? If there were any true power to be dosed out, surely it would go to- Well. The powers that were might refuse to believe that a woman could consort with the Devil, or give the Evil Eye to a cow, but even Reason's most eager sluts would admit that women did have tongues and that they did surely abuse them. And they did agree that the Scold's Bridle was a device of ingenuity and charm but wasn't it sometimes a chore to look upon women disfigured thus? Wasn't the community itself being punished by locking pretty faces up behind iron bars? Surely there had to be some more efficient way, some way that would leave these hateful gossips just as pretty. Just as long as you never looked inside their mouths. And do you know? Once again, he agreed.

[ambimoon]

scold's bridle

[alanakarsch]

If you ever wonder why women (and anyone in a marginalized and/or racialized body) is fearful of speaking up, being their true selves, being noticed...Here's a visual for you.

This is a scold's bridle. It was used as punishment. Women were to wear it on the street as passerbys watched. The bridles were often made of iron, encased their head and face, and depressed the tongue, sometimes with a spike. Sometimes there was a leash attached to lead the woman down the road and further humiliate her.

We carry these stories in our bodies, and they still have an impact now.

What do you feel when you see these images, and read about this act of abuse?

[like-butterflies-and-glitter]

gwen and ianto only ever making the most appropriate use of objects found around the hub.

[piraterefrigerator]

what's a very obscure fact you know ?

I'll go first - the separation of plants into fruits, veggies, nuts, berries, herbs etc differs from a botanical and culinary perspective, which is why you hear so often that "tomato is a fruit" (botanically) or that bananas are berries (again, botanically)

OOO THAT'S NEAT!

I have many obscure facts but uhh- here's a fun one!

Some time last year I was doing research for a whumptober fic and looked up methods of pirate torture, and this lead me to spend the entire day researching medieval torture methods

So one that I found really interesting is called the scolds bridle, some gruesome shit below the cut

This is the devil in question. It went on a woman's head and the protruding bit there stuck in her mouth to hold her tounge down, preventing her from talking. Some of them had spikes on the mouthpiece so that if the woman tried to talk she'd have her tounge ripped to shreds.

They were locked on and the woman's husband or father typically had the key, and were often used on women who "gossiped too much" and things of the sort

This turned into less of a fact and more of an unsettling ramble so forgive me

[masquenoire]

Roman is very much an avid reader, especially when it comes to historical methods of torture. The Judas Cradle, the Iron Maiden, the Wooden Horse, the Brazen Bull and more are all methods he’s tried recreating from time to time but mainly sticks with his ‘tried and tested’ original methods he’s come up with over the years. Scaphism is one particular method he’d love to try out sometime, to prolong his victim’s suffering and see how long it takes for one to die in Gotham’s considerably cooler climate.

[maretriarch]

my (feminist) ponysona, feedbag

[batrogers]

THREE: MUZZLED [Four Swords Adventures. Rating: M]

Vio was glad it was him and not Red who fell for that trap.

Well, any of them would've been stupid enough but he'd been the more rash of the group from the start so it was probably not much of a risk anyone else would've fallen for it. A pretty witch girl, a promise of dinner, and a little adoration and... Now, he was kneeling somewhere in a closed room across from a table with no chairs, half dressed with no clue where his sword was.

It was stupid. This was stupid.

"You just look stupid," he said aloud, and the sorcerer turned and glared. Vio smirked back.

"I did not ask you to speak."

"Didn't think an invitation was necessary."

"When your brother's arrive, they will find whatever I see fit to leave of you and if you do not desist..."

Vio smiled widely. "No, no finish the sentence. I can't rate you on a scale of scariness if you don't. Like, if you're just gonna punch me what do I care?"

He did care; he cared a lot, in fact, but he knew even as the man stalked up to his face and grabbed him by the hair that doing nothing would not hurt less than doing something. He (they) had learned that lesson a long time ago.

"I can force you to shut up, then," he snarled.

Vio bared his teeth.

Deep within the sorcerer's hood, Vio watched the shadows of his face contort, moving from annoyance to rage. The man dropped him, then backhanded him across the face. The stones on his rings cut him, but even as the blood began to trickle down his face the man stalked away.

"Pathetic," Vio snapped.

"Be still!" The man turned and a blast of power hit him where he knelt.

Vio froze. He couldn't breathe. This didn't scare him initially. He'd be fine; he'd done this before. He had to let him go eventually, right?

Except... he didn't. The man turned away again and left the room, and left him frozen like that as his lungs struggled; struggled and failed. His vision blurred (worse than normal, that was) and then black and red spots began to dance across his vision. They grew wider and wider, until, suddenly, the whole world went dark.

He woke up choking. He struggled, trying to push himself up but his hands were tied now to his feet. There was also a metal frame around his head. The side of it pressed into his cheek on the floor, but the worst was the metal bar against his tongue. He moaned and tried to slide his tongue free.

He tasted blood instead; a metal spike dug in and he had to fight himself into freezing, not biting down, not screaming. He couldn't do anything but force himself to remain perfectly calm.

Thankfully, he could still swallow before he had to let the blood run down his face. He focused, isntead, on the bindings on his wrist: those were less well done. He breathed carefully through his nose and focused on the slight give on his wrists. His hands were small for his age, and he'd been tied up like this loads of times before.

The sorcerer turned and he went dead still. He opened his mouth slightly around the bit and let some of the blood run out, dripping onto the floor. He couldn't quite make himself cry, but he knew if he kept his face blank enough he'd look deadened, uncaring, and defeated. Carefully, he didn't meet the man's eyes.

"I had to look all around town for one of those, you know," the man said, as though this was normal conversation. "They're not as popular as they once were. People put up with too much chatter now. If you keep your tongue in check, it won't be cut again."

Vio nodded, eyes still low and the man turned back around.

His hand slipped free of the ropes, skin burned from the wriggling but it didn't matter. He slipped it off his other wrist and started carefully untying it from between his ankles. He had no idea what the man was doing but it didn't matter. It wouldn't be good; it probably would only hurt him more, and while the iron bars around his face were uncomfortable and heavy, he could handle that, at least once he was free enough to confirm that wasn't tied down either. He didn't think so. He tucked his head forward, as though in shame, and it moved freely in that way.

The man didn't even turn around at the sound of the metal on stone.

Fucking useless ass.

[twinkandwink]

I've not seen Wych Elm for a while, in fact the last time I saw them I and quite a few others got Covid after the gig and ended up isolating that Christmas. So determined to see them again as for some reason or other I've missed some of their recent gigs, I went down to The Lanes freebie offshoot of Simple Things Festival.

Pics & vid - tracks - Scolds Bridle

Wych Elm - The Lanes, Bristol 24/2/24

[stemms]

@haunted-here

I forgor to post this here,,,

[nyxxxx-onepieces-dragun]

Ace Boyfriend HC

A/N: Js a bunch of fluff and random things that came to mind and its quite long but enjoy ;3 Characters: Ace x Fem!reader mentions of other characters aswell this is a SFW HC but I might make a NSFW one so stay tuned for that!

SFW HC:

When you first started dating Ace would love to give you sweet little love letters. It's sweet yet not too much and they would say something like "your my never ending thought, A."

definitely be prepared for the ultimate princess treatment. Oh your hungry? he's already running to Thatch asking demanding it be made for you right then and there, your feet hurt? no problem he'll just give you a piggyback or carry you bridle style.

I think Ace would be too shy to approach you despite his confident and gentleman appearance he just doesn't want to mess things up so instead he asks you out via letter that went along the lines of "Lets flip a coin. Heads, your mine. Tails I'm yours." he definitely didn't have Marco put it on your desk in your cabin

He loves physical touch it reminds him that he's not alone and your like the calm in his storm keeping him there and anchored.

Also if you want him to melt while you both are chilling in his cabin he's on his stomach sleeping soundly just go over and start massaging his back, bonus points if you dance your fingers over his Whitebeard tattoo, now its a daily thing for you and if you don't do it please do it he'll be all whiny and pouty "Y/nnnn~ please can you rub my back?? I promise just for 15 minutes!" you do it for about three hours hehe

He never ever takes you out on missions with him, afterall he is the 2nd division commander and he takes on some serious missions but when you do arrive on a new island you best bet he is right there at your hip keeping a protective arm draped over you and watching out for anyone who might try anything he's so golden retriever please love this man with all your heart

He's great at being big spoon and being your personal heater but he looooves being little spoon it makes him feel safe and calm in your arms as you run your fingers through his raven locks all that day's stress washes away and he feels content knowing that someone will always be there for him no matter what.

One time Ace tried to set up a romantic little boat date and everything was going great the moon was high up stars twinkling in the sky as you both ate fruit together he was sat across from you and before you knew it his narcolepsy kicked in and his face was now in your chest as he snored soundly.

At first you were confused and a bit flustered since he was so...close but you ended up just running your fingers through his hair waiting for him to awake and when he did...this man got redder than a tomato apologizing over and over again.

But the more frequently it happened the more bolder he got and at some point he would just stay there burying his face more into your chest which in return landed him slaps on the back of his head and scolding while you were a flustered mess "so comfy~ OUCH! it's not my fault I fell asleep!"

this is my first time writing I'll try to get better in the future but Thanks for reading this reposts are welcome just credit me! & <3

[alucard-and-dracula-askblog]

Wednesday keeps her head down writing in her notebook as she follows the crowd through the museum.

She is however mildly distracted by the beautifully kept scold’s bridle that is behind the red velvet rope.

A very very slight smile crosses her face as she imagines Pugsly in such a contraption.

She doesn’t even notice that the rest of the group has gone ahead.

@woeful-wonder

Alucard leads the group up the stairs away from the torture chambers, not noticing at first that he lost someone in the tour. Though once at the top of the stairs he notices that instead of three individuals all in black there's now only two, as the rest of the crowd wore bright colors. "Um... Mr and Mrs Adams, was it? Has your daughter by chance left the group to use the restrooms?" He hopes she isn't lost in the castle, there are far too many dangers within it.

Dracula starts to stir in his coffin in a room just beyond the torture chambers, but Alucard had locked it so he wouldn't be able to get out during tours

[solmints-messyocdiary]

Messy vamp Odile sketches

She gets muzzled just in case she gets peckish. The muzzle is based on the scold/witch/gossip bridle given to women who nagged a lot as a form of public humiliation.

@bluecoolr @probably-a-plant-thing