#slavery mention cw

[funnywormz]

the toshiro hate discourse is crazy on twitter and tiktok lately. not only they're hating on him for being a jerk to Laios but also having a crush on Falin. they're saying he was hypocritical for liking Falin's personality when she's very much the same to Laios, the guy he find annoying. and also for being in the way of Marcille x Falin ship.

now I love the Farcille ship but dear lord do you have to go this far just to hate on toshiro.

one last thing, this one I don't see alot but is so awful and is that some fans think toshiro is a slave owner (??) cus his family bought izutsumi and tade to work as fighters wtfff

YEAH i find the people who hate on toshiro because of farcille odd because he doesn't even get in the way of it? like he just has a crush on falin but she doesn't feel the same way about him anyways. it's also strange when people act like falin and laios are exactly the same and call toshiro a hypocrite for liking falin. falin is very gentle and kind whereas laios is definitely a bit more loud and abrasive at times. i think toshiro struggled to be around laios because laios was overstimulating and exhausting for him, whereas falin wasn't any of those things. they're two very different people so i don't think it's weird that he likes one and dislikes the other

i think maybe the "slave owner" criticism has a little more merit? because his parents do literally own them, and izutsumi at least had a curse put on her by maizuru which was meant to prevent her from escaping. so like....... they are literally slaves and are under the control of his family/maizuru. although toshiro doesn't own anyone himself and was just a kid when his parents "bought" tade, izutsumi etc., he's still complicit in the aspect that he still uses the labour of these people. he does know it isn't right, and has considered talking to tade about it, and lets izutsumi go when she escapes. but he doesn't make any effort to free them himself, doesn't ask maizuru to remove the curse on izutsumi, and overall just seems to view the fact that his family are slave owners and human traffickers as something mildly uncomfortable rather than the evil awful thing that it is.

i don't think toshiro is a bad person, and he does know what his family is doing is bad, but he's also a very passive person. he's so reserved and anxious about social interaction that it interferes with him telling the truth to laios, but also gets in the way of him properly criticising or standing up to his father in a way that would make a difference, or making a big step like actually talking to tade about how her situation isn't fair at all. so yeah while it wouldn't be accurate to call him a slave owner, i think he is somewhat complicit in the practice of it and deserves criticism for that

idk i don't think toshiro is a horrible person as some in the fandom paint him out to be, and there are a lot of ways people insult him that are just straight up mischaracterisation/projection/etc. but at the same time he isn't perfect and i think there are valid reasons for people to dislike him. but i definitely do agree with the first part of this ask in that most of the reasons people have for hating him are just rlly silly lol

(i hope i approached this topic properly btw, i know slavery is a very dark and sensitive topic for many people and the last thing i would want to do is undermine the severity of it)

[ofblccdetgxld]

Dominus

Read here, read the full story here.

Ancient Rome, during the time of Augustus (Octavian Ceasar)  

Marius the Roman, Marius the Patrician, The Vampire Marius de Romanus. Perhaps, as per usual he was thinking too hard… or maybe he was onto something. He was the master of no one but himself, in the end, he was the only thing he could and would control. Not even his many house slaves, not even his guests, not even the skilled craftsmen down the street, not even his beloved Pandora. He was the one thing, human or preternatural he could control. Such a notion, of course, scared him intensely but it was the truth and he had to bear it. Dominus Marius, master of himself and no others. 

[hasmephydoneanythingwrong]

There needs to be like, a list of all the bigoted Minecraft YouTubers so people don’t accidentally step into the circle of the guy who jokes about slavery stocks going up.

[melpomeneprose]

Hot take: Tarleton is only as bad as his superiors need him to be. Discounting the collective evil of slavery both sides are not forgiven for.

An Amrev historian recently corrected me saying basically, “oh that’s a lie, Tarleton actually never did that, in short he only punished his lessers when necessary and he was a butcher but so were a lot of patriot militia and their officers and especially in the south where it was basically civil war ft a large enslaved population and all.” TLDR: basically… everyone loved/hated John André and Tarleton cause they were pretty flirts and also incredibly competent ‘lobsters.’

Also Francis Marion was notoriously bad to his slaves, even the historians who do not hate him say so.

So… “all men are created equal” (not the 98% enslaved population in the south and don’t hold your breath if you’re a none male).

I was reading the preface to a book about Banastre Tarleton in the American Revolution and was surprised to run into William Tavington from The Patriot within the first few sentences.  It’s crazy (and sad, but not surprising) that a historian writing about a historical figure has to contend with a fictional representation before he can get into the man himself because more people are familiar with the character than the man he’s based on.  This happens a lot, but I think it’s especially striking in this case because Tavington is so obviously a creature of fiction.  He’s a great character, but he owns his villainy in a way that is rare, to say the least, in historical figures. 

The best example of this is the scene where he’s urging General Cornwallis to turn a blind eye to his war crimes.

“We both know that, if I do this, I can never return to England with honor.  What, I wonder, shall become of me?”

“I will assume full responsibility, rendering you blameless.”

Where to start? It is kind of wild for a colonel to assure a general that he will take responsibility for his own actions.  Cornwallis is in control of him; not exercising that control is still a choice he’s making.  People are going to know how that works.  But setting aside logic–which this movie usually does–its intriguing that Tavington is so eager to take the blame for his actions and let his superior officer off the hook.  Who does that?

Moreover, he’s aware of how his actions will be perceived, and he doesn’t flinch from that.  He’s confident that the British people will see him as a pariah and his actions as reprehensible even if they result in a victory (which is hilarious given the fates of historical Englishmen who behaved badly in the colonies, but I digress!)

Tavington never displays any remorse and offers no justification or even explanation of his actions.  There’s no room for apologia. That, along with Jason Isaacs’ delightfully hammy performance, is what makes him so much fun.  He’s a scenery-chomping, good-looking villain who has all the best lines and spends the whole movie terrorizing Mel Gibson.  What’s not to love?

Historical war criminals, on the other hand, would very much like for everyone to know that the victims are entirely to blame.  Or that they were just following orders.  Either way, their violence was completely justifiable and the most practical course of action.  In The Patriot, it’s the Americans who do this, and if they can’t justify their violence, then they just don’t talk about it.  That is by far the most historically accurate part of the movie.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

First Night Home pt. 1

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Aiden wishes he could know the way home by heart. Feel a sense of comfort, that indescribable pull, as familiarity marks the closing distance to the place where he belongs. It’s a foolish, naked yearning. One that hangs in the spotlight of his focus a moment too long, leaving him feeling just as exposed. 

He spreads his fingers on his legs to stop from curling them into fists. Curling his toes in his shoes is a cheap substitute for grounding himself but at least it keeps that look off Leo’s face. 

The one that confirms Aiden is a burden he didn’t sign up for, companion or not. 

“Almost there,” Leo says, pulling away from a stop sign and turning left. 

His stomach drops and he turns toward the window to hide his face. 

Just like the first night, he has no idea what to expect when they arrive. He should be able to grant Leo a fraction of the trust he has felt but is always unable to find when he needs it most. It’s overwhelmed too easily, road salt cloudy headlights on an unlit route, feeble light swallowed by darkness before it can illuminate anything more than the rush of pavement before it disappears. His catastrophizing is stunted by exhaustion but the longer they drive down the winding roads, the more his stomach knots and twists, anticipation-turning-to-dread the only mile marker he has. He worries about losing to his nausea, as much as a passenger in his body as he is in the car, heading toward the inevitable. 

When Leo turns off the road, Aiden panics even more, scanning the row of four identical condos, porch lights still casting a dim glow in the pre-dawn light. He doesn’t recognize anything, except Leo’s work van at the end of the shared driveway. Shame rises along with the bile in his stomach. It’s disrespectful to Leo and the invitation to share any part of his home––to entertain it as a place he could pretend to belong—if he can’t even recognize it from the outside.

For fuck’s sake, it’s the barest of minimums required to lay claim to any place.

He bites back his apology. Stutters won’t be the only thing that comes out if he opens his mouth just now. He wouldn’t be able to articulate the transgression anyway. Little progress he made earlier trying to explain he wasn’t trying to run from Leo at the hospital, that he was just trying to give him a shot at getting his life back. The one before he took on a damaged—

“Home sweet home.” Leo kills the engine and lets his head fall back against the headrest with a sigh.

Aiden lowers his gaze, guilt swirling in his stomach. Again, the apology is on the tip of his tongue but his eyes start to burn hot with tears. He will not cry again. He cannot. He bites the inside of his cheek and the taste of blood is a quick distraction. 

Worse than dissolving into a crying mess would be getting sick in Leo’s sister’s car. 

Leo’s on the move anyway. With another sigh, he gets out, leaving Aiden alone to clap his good hand over his mouth and force deep breaths in and out through his nose. He even closes his eyes to beg himself to be capable this time. Better for this second-second chance. Easier after everything. 

Little good it does. 

By the time Leo reaches his door, Aiden is resigned to ducking around him to throw up. The bar lowered to please just don’t get sick on Leo’s shoes. 

The cold air hits him in a blast when Leo reaches the door and helps him out. He blinks against the sharp sting of it, both hands gripping Leo’s forearm. Another lungful of brisk winter morning and the nausea settles. 

His next inhale is full of sky. Deep blue night softening with the light of day from one horizon to the other. A whisper of purple hinting at the brilliance of more colors soon to come. He could stay here forever, taking in the spectrum of dark to light, the stars fading out in the west and the sun soon to rise in the east. He watched the sunrise a few times from the bedroom window upstairs but he can’t remember the last time he stood under a sky like this. 

Or the last time he was outside in daylight at all. 

“Hon, you alright?”

Leo’s expression has probably passed concern because Aiden let a few tears escape. They’ve already slid down his cheeks, warm at the outset, their wakes chilled in the fresh morning air. 

He wipes his face with his sleeve, still looking up. “Thank you,” he hears himself whisper and somehow it comes out crystal clear. He wishes he could say more, thank Leo for this morning sky he had nothing and everything to do with. But he doesn’t trust himself not to ruin it. 

Leo doesn’t say anything back, just wraps an arm around his shoulders. 

As soon as they step inside, he wants to run back to the feeling he found under the sky. But Leo’s exhausted and he already waited with Aiden until the sun started peeking over the horizon. Watching the sun rise wouldn’t stave off the inevitable. It’ll be over in minutes anyway. 

Aiden winds up hovering at the edge of the kitchen, unsure if he should stay out of the way or help. The bags sit on the island, handles still standing at attention from being lifted there. 

Leo relieves him of any guesswork by setting a glass of water on the island. “Think you can drink this?” 

He nods, grateful for an easy opportunity to be obedient, and slides onto a stool, watching for any reaction from Leo out of habit, but he’s looking down. Aiden’s stomach knots when he realizes he’s reading the slip of paper from the doctors again. 

If Leo tells him to take any of the medicine, he should. He will. He’ll do anything Leo asks him to. Happily. If what Leo said about finding him is true, he owes him his life twice over, maybe three times if he considers—

“Aiden?”

He jumps and Leo quickly leans over to clamp a hand around his teetering glass.

“M’sorry.” He tucks his hands between his legs, apology not quite audible even to his ears. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“S’okay,” he whispers. 

Leo’s sigh makes him flinch before he can catch himself. 

Leo holds up his hands, one still holding the rescued glass. “Easy, sweetheart. We’re all good. It’s all good.” 

Aiden nods. He’s overreacting, reading into Leo’s every fucking exhale. He’s just overreacting but still, tears are building behind his eyes. He nods again, squeezing his hands into fists but the pain that radiates up his arms makes the tears fall. “M’sorry, m’sorry.” He shakes his hands out at his sides, swipes furiously at the traitorous tears, and refuses—refuses—to meet Leo’s gaze to see how completely exasperated and disappointed he is. “M’sorry, m’sorry—”  

“Aiden. Aiden.” Leo’s beside him now, warm hand on his shoulder making him realize just how much he’s curled forward. “Just breathe. That’s right. You’re okay, you’re good.” 

He nods, sniffling. He needs to pull himself together. “M’sorry, m’sorry.” 

“Hon, look at me.” 

He meets Leo’s eyes, letting himself shelter in the ease of obedience. 

“You’re good, it’s all good. We’ll figure things out together, step by step, in the morning—or, well, later today.” Leo’s soft chuckle, tired as it is, tempts Adien further into the lulls of earned safety and he doesn’t have the energy to resist. Leo rubs his shoulder. “Everything will look a little better after some sleep, yeah?” Leo goes to the sink to top up his glass. “Let’s head up.” 

His stomach drops and maybe even his lungs too because he can’t feel himself breathe anymore. He’s too busy trying to read Leo’s face. What about the mess upstairs? Should he get the bleach? Or is this the moment Leo finally punishes him? 

He follows Leo to the stairs, shoving his shaking hands into the pocket of the hoodie. He knots his fingers together as much as he can without it hurting too much. He’s not sure what they’ll find upstairs. He can only remember blurs and there’s no telling what happened after his memory stops. 

“Better get scrubbing, ‘359.” 

He shakes his head but the flashes of the facility tiles, covered in blood, are so bright in his mind. His hand gripping the banister feels far away, feet climbing the stairs even further. A few more steps and he’ll be able to see the bathroom. 

The blood, the tiles. 

“Aiden?” 

He flinches, attention snapping back to Leo a few steps ahead. “M’good,” he says, too quickly because Leo narrows his eyes. He walks back down and stops one step lower so they’re the same height. 

“There’s no–– there’s nothing to worry about. I asked Jesse to come over while we were out.” 

He nods slowly.  

“Everything’s clean, it’s all good.” 

Aiden hopes he hides his shameful relief better than his lack of understanding. “Mmm’thanks…” It’s not enough. He’ll never be enough. 

Leo holds out his arm. “All good, hon.” 

At the top of the stairs, he goes the extra mile and flicks on every light in the bathroom. The brightness hurts Aiden’s eyes but the bathroom is indeed spotless. 

Like nothing ever happened.

Leo walks him to the second bedroom, sets the glass of water on the desk and clicks on the little lamp. “I’ll get you some clean pajamas.” 

The pressure in the room changes when Leo leaves. 

Aiden’s breath comes easier, inhale and exhale deeper. The air no longer feeling finite to leave space for all the anticipation that accompanies Leo. 

But his relief is quickly spoiled by the discomfort of idleness. 

Using the desk chair for balance, he strips to his underwear, neatly folding the dirty clothes to be put in the hamper in the bathroom. He doesn’t want to see the bandages on his hand or arms, nor the gauze taped to his elbow and collarbone. Any visible trace of blood and Leo will want to check them, clean the stitches, change the bandages, ask him how he’s feeling, if he wants to take something for it and he can’t answer, he can’t look, he can’t handle having Leo examine him like that, so careful like he’s breakable when he’s done all this to himself and— 

He covers his face with his hands. Tries to pull in a deeper breath but the smell of betadine under the bandages makes his stomach churn so he lets his hands fall. 

There’s a smudge on his upper arm. Rubbing at it with his thumb does nothing. He turns to see it in the faint light coming through the window–– 

It’s blood. Dried blood, all over. A ragged stripe of it snaking across his upper arms and chest. He can see it spreading, hear the drip, drip, drip of the faucet he was shaking too much to turn off completely. 

He pinches his eyes shut and shakes his head but when he opens his eyes again it’s even worse. It’s everywhere, splotches up and down his arms, all over his torso. 

Splattered all over the bright, white tiles. 

He can’t get it off. He has to get rid of it. He has to wash away the blood. 

“Scrub those tiles good and clean, ‘359.” 

No, this can’t be happening right now. 

His breath trembles and he can’t fill his lungs anymore but it doesn’t matter because the sounds of his panic have already caught Leo’s attention. 

“Aiden?” 

He spins to face Leo, bumping into the door which hits the wall and makes him jump all over again. His apology comes out as more of a strangled whine. 

“Easy.” Leo makes his movements slow and deliberate as he sets the clothes down. “It’s alright.” 

Aiden nods along. Of course it’s alright. He knows it’s alright but he still can’t seem to catch more than tiny gasps of air at a time. It’s just Leo. He’s here with Leo. He’s––

“Hey, hey, look at me.” 

Leo doesn’t try to move any closer, just holds his gaze. “That’s good, just breathe. We’ve got all the time we need. There’s no rush. Just take it easy. Take some slow, deep breaths.” 

He hates how immediately possible it is when he can hear it as a command. 

“Good, that’s good. You’re good.” 

Hates even more that he sinks his teeth right into all the warmth and relief he can get from the shallow praise, a shiver running up his spine in its wake. But it helps and he can already stand a bit straighter, think, and see a bit clearer. 

Leo waits a few more deep breaths. “All good?” 

“Mhm, m’sorry—” He clears his throat. “I––I––” He steels himself and lets his arms fall, eyes locked on Leo’s expression. 

“Ah. I didn’t think of that.” 

Leo’s frown makes his heart start to race. He crosses an arm over his chest, as if there might be a chance Leo can actually see the hair-trigger reactivity he’s got tonight. 

“I’ll get a washcloth with some soap, I can––” 

“Please––” he chokes out, calves hitting the bed frame. He blinks away Harrison, standing over him, cold and indifferent while he begs and cries. 

“Okay, never mind.” Aiden is still holding his breath so Leo softens his voice. “Hey, hey, easy. Not that one, okay? Forget I suggested it.” 

He drags in a strained breath. “M’sorry.” Forces himself to take a step back toward Leo.

“It’s alright, don’t be sorry. I need to know these things, it’s good you’re telling me.” 

He swallows and looks down. Unsure if he’s more ashamed that Leo has to spell it out for him or that it’s necessary at all. 

“Well, I guess a shower is the next option. What do you think?” 

Aiden nods, trying to look at least a little more composed to face the bathroom. 

“Okay,” Leo says but he doesn’t move. 

Aiden looks down again to let him think. He wants to shake out his arms, and his legs too while he’s at it. Just because he can and that’s why it helps. But he doesn’t want Leo to think he’s impatient. He’d probably tip right over anyway. 

“Sorry, okay, yeah. Just a quick shower, I’ll help you.” He turns and Aiden follows. 

It won’t be as simple as that but it’s a lie of solace they’ll cling to like a life raft. 

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess

@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump

@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings

@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump

@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps

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@whumps-and-bumps @i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis @heartfullofhoney

[nukacourier]

Can I just say the Arcade slavery jokes make me super uncomfortable and I wish they weren't so common with other Arcade likers or tolerated by them in the fandom :/

[charmantevamp]

Of course, Doctor Nash's words hurt, but, Audrey willfully ignores the insinuation-- she is no prude.

"I'm not Catholic -- so I care not for the pope. He is a man, not God, and therefore does not speak for Him in his worldly imperfections."

"That is just it, neither am I," Audrey stated point blank. "You do not need to be catholic to suffer the indignity brought on by the pope and his pickpocketing. Don't you know? At least, in France, you either side with the pope or you're a r.adical, protestant, a.theist or worse. Either he inherited the works of the early c.hurch and 'saint Peter' or it's all lies, so, Doctor Nash, what do you believe? or are you an enlightened man of science who'd be better off in Vienna or Austria?" Audrey asked a genuine question for once. Either way, we're all scum to the old regime, it matters not what we are," Audrey sighed, she'd concede to cultural catholicism, and being titled by birth. But titles mean nothing once one's Vicomte father disowns them and Audrey can guarantee she is-- indeed, an atheist.

"As for conjecture. One needs a facade to survive in this world, what's yours?''

Unable to help it, the corner of Jacob's mouth quirked upward and he turned away, intent on shelving his elixirs. "Given how that very rebuttal was dripping with sanctimonious tripe, yes: you are. Quite painfully, in fact. Not everything has to be some worldly crusade, you know. There's nothing wrong with taking a sabbatical for yourself."

In fact, Jacob much preferred it. Perhaps for a time, he'd been much the same -- or rather, intent on nurturing and saving as many lives as he could muster -- but once his own existence was snuffed out, bitterness and hatred bled into the cavity of his chest, and it had been difficult to feel quite so benevolent any longer. Were it not for his patients, he imagined he wouldn't have even a scrap of pity to spare.

"I'm not Catholic," Jacob muttered, "so I care not for the pope. He is a man, not God, and therefore does not speak for Him in his worldly imperfections."

Taking a bottle down to fix the label, he added, "Slavery has predated us by thousands of years. Moses' people were enslaved, after all, so I don't know why your kind acts as though the colonies are the one great evil. The tragic fact is, so long as there are those who desire money and power, inevitable oppression will reign. And there's nothing you nor your pretty little philosophies can do about it."

Reaching for his quill, Jacob fixed an inscription, then re-shelved the elixir. "Mm-hmm," he hummed, visibly distracted. "And do not presume to know me, either. Perhaps if you didn't spend the entire time analyzing my every waking moment, I wouldn't feel the desire to point out the obvious. Arrogance needs to be put in its place. Whether or not you truly believe your codswallop is irrelevant."

Had he died at nineteen, he wouldn't have met Elizabeth, and therefore wouldn't have been cursed, so the remark wasn't nearly as cutting as Audrey intended.

"Yes, perhaps," he muttered. "But it's all just conjecture, is it not? Pointless rubbish, in other words. I don't dwell on the 'could have beens' -- just the now." Or tried to.

[ttrpg-smash-pass-vs]

Locathah! Aww, they even have a pet :3 They're strong, athletic, observant, and amphibious. Thier will is strong, being very good at resisting anything that might poison, stun, scare, or put them to sleep! Combine with thier thick hide and incredible endurance could make for a fun time, but they do need do hop in water every few hours. They're actually really friendly and always down for friends and allies, but they do have a good bit of social etiquette they ask for. It's simple stuff though, mainly "social distance unless given permission to approach." Which I hope you did when possible to begin with, and isn't relevant since we're assuming you have permission.

Their species was enslaved by a different species of fish people (who are former slaves of squid people), and it still happens occasionally, so they just get wary about people getting within grabbing range. Also why they're big on friendship, as they noticed kidnapping mainly happens when they're in periods of infighting or have driven away thier allies. So they adopted a "together we are strong and safe" mentality. Just don't mess with thier kelp farms and speak from a distance and they're friendly.

[mjrtaurus]

As a vice-admiral’s son, Dragon was subject to a good bit of ribbing from his peers when he joined the marines, this Urpi knew. It was in the nature of the young to be playful and foolish, this was universal. But this? This was neither.

Dragon had been hazed, to put it plainly. Peer-pressured into a few too many drinks, the primary feathers of his wings crudely clipped while he was too intoxicated to protest, and his person unceremoniously dumped on their doorstep for his parents to find.

She was furious.

To the Shandia, wing-clipping was considered a vile act. Something not to be done even to your very worst enemy. When her people were still widespread across the blue seas, a Shandian- or any Sky Islander for that matter- with clipped wings was often also the bearer of a World Noble’s four clawed brand. To willingly recreate that humiliation was nothing short of a war crime.

His feathers would molt out and grow back in whole with time, but the intangible damage was still done. Her son had been shamed, plain and simple. Worse still, he blamed himself for it.

[antimony-medusa]

Hi! I don't know if you've followed the debate on twitter these last few days (if you haven't, feel free to ignore this ask, I don't want to drag you into stuff) about whether themes of slavery can be depicted in fictional settings. I'd be curious to have your opinion because you have very based takes on the topic of fanfiction

Boy. I have been at a wedding so I have NOT been following, but a friend dug that one up for me, and boy. Isn't that something.

Okay, do I think that slavery can be depicted in fictional settings?

I'm gonna start this with a caveat of saying that I'm white, and as far as I know my family tree doesn't include any enslaved people. So slavery is an atrocity, but not a personal one for me any more than I feel personally about all atrocities, and your opinion on this subject might be different based on your experience, and that's completely fair. This is just the opinion of someone who thinks about content warnings and representation and exchange rules sometimes, and honestly if you want to take my answer as me saying "i'm white, anything I say after this doesn't really matter" that's a fair read of the situation. End post.

But further, the siren song of being asked a question:

My general stance is that there are very few things that can't be depicted in fictional settions, but there are a lot of things that should be depicted with care and research. And I consider major archive warnings to be one of these things. (I'm on the team that says that in an ideal world we would have a major archive warning for racism or slavery.) I don't think that there are any topics that are inherently off-limits for fiction.

If you're interested in writing professionally, there's a workshop called Writing The Other that does intros into writing topics that you don't share experiences with, and they do a really good job of breaking down the ways that you can analyze your work for cliches and stereotypes and other weaknesses, and ways that you can research to avoid them. It's an excellent workshop and I really recommend it— they even do scholarships, which is how I got to join! I consider them the industry standard of the question of "can I write about this", and as I remember it their basic answer is that the more outside of your experience a thing is, the more research you have to do to make sure you don't mess it up, and the more central to your story a thing is, the more you want to make sure that you don't mess it up. So sometimes you do hit topics and you go "am I the right person to tell this story, should I leave this topic to someone who knows it more personally, who's studied this". But that doesn't mean that you can't tell the story, it just means that to do it well, you have to put the work in. And that no one is obliged to trust you on the surface of things to have put the work in. I am probably going to trust an author who I know is disabled to have written disability well, for example, more than an ablebodied author. But there are authors out there that I know do their research and I pretty much trust them to deal with any topic carefully, if they want to take it on. A lot of the time, the more sensative a topic you are touching, the more you need a relationship of trust between author and reader, and sometimes you have to earn that trust carefully.

And boy is there fiction out there that deals with sensitive topics in ways that does not earn that trust. I have read things that I find highly distasteful. I have read published work that chooses to deal with real life atrocities in ways that I find wildly uncomfortable and I do not tend to recommend those books or authors.

I have also read nuanced and insightful explorations of horrific things, including slavery, including domestic violence, including racism, in ways that I felt enriched my understanding of the world and the people around me. I've read books that carefully touched on things like childhood sexual abuse and police violence and involuntary commitment, and that didn't make the story not a life-affirming and joyful experience, because the stories were able to take these things and make healing and catharsis out of them. Simply hearing that a story deals with a topic does not tell you if it's a story to recommend to others. We all live lives that sometimes touch on terrible things, and I think that trying to police who can tell stories about bad things leads into bad things like making people prove that they've suffered enough to write or shit like "are you black enough for this story", and I don't want that in my writing community. I have literally seen the bad end for going down that road, check out "helicopter discourse," and I'm against that.

I'm against that enough that I'm willing to endure people who do not share an experience writing badly about terrible things as the price we have to pay to allow people who have personal stake in the situation to be able to explore sensitive topics without harassment. Especially with fanfiction, we're dealing with amateur writers, so unfortunately most of the time when you have a subject come up the default assumption is going to be that it's dealt with badly. But I personally fall on the side that it's worth five people writing it badly to allow the one person who's personally impacted to write about it as much or as little as they want. My personal bugbear is terminal illness in children, that's my trauma, but I would personally rather have people write horrible tearjerker fic about aging down their characters and killing them off and it's so sad, even though I don't want that, rather than to say that that topic is off-limits to people.

On the topic specifically of slavery, this fandom, as many fandoms do, has a habit of including slavery and human trafficing as themes in their writing. A lot of the time this is not done well. We have a lot of baby writers who are deliberately writing the saddest thing they can think of or writing unjust societies for their guys to rebel against. This is not what I would say is a strength of the writing in the fandom, taken as a whole. And some people do their research and do it well! I've read great fics that pull from history in an informed way and do interesting things with it! But not everybody, good lord.

But saying that because a lot of people deal badly with slavery nobody should deal with slavery is not a path forward that I'm personally in support of. Do I think it should be tagged? Absolutely. Nobody should hit that unawares. But a lot of societies through human history practiced slavery of one kind or another! If you are drawing from roman history for your gladiator au, most of those guys were not there of their own free will. Tropes like fae folklore includes themes of posession and ownership, because that was the background radiation to the lives of the people who told these stories in the first place. There are a lot of tropes where these topics are going to arise, and I don't think that's inherently bad (though I personally would certainly feel a lot more comfortable with pulling on classical and medieval history for these stories rather than 1800s America, for example). And like, you can absolutely try your best to steer around these topics! That's an option! But honestly if you're doing something historic or historic-inspired, I'm not sure if it's more respectful to write a fantasy past in which greek history did not include slavery. That's whitewashing of history by definition. So if you want to avoid that, you're left with most of human history off-limits to write about, because of the atrocities? And I don't think that's ideal.

And like, I think with fanfiction you kind of just have to accept as background radiation that there are going to be a lot of people dealing with topics that they are not equipped to deal with. That's just how it goes. These are people writing with minimal research, experience, and editing, cause we're all here for fun, not professional development. You're gonna have people mishandle things. And that's why I think tagging is really really important, so that you can see the tags on a fic and go "oh I do not trust them with that topic" and navigate away, or filter the topic entirely. I have my touchpoints that I steer away from, and I have 100% clicked away from stories in horror going "oh no no no no no that's not good." But I don't think people should all be banned from writing about these things because some people do it badly.

Note: that doesn't mean that like, we shouldn't have conversations about how maybe if you put the minecraft men in your story where hybrid trafficing is a metaphor for the underground railroad, you should do that Carefully. We can still strive to do better. I have Seen Things and there is room to improve. There's room for discussion about people using slavery for cheap angst, in the same way that I've talked about the treatment of disability used for angst, and I've seen people talk about the agency allowed female characters, and the list goes on.

And that doesn't mean that I'm not going to 100% respect it if I get a DNW in an exchange where someone has said they don't want slavery or hybrid racism. People should be able to opt out of these topics (entirely! even if they're dealt with well!) and nobody has to read things they don't want to.

So in essense, when it comes to writing sensitive topics like slavery I'm going to do my best to think about what I'm doing and do my research— and I have written slavery and human-trafficing-type-deals before, I like gladiator aus and classical-inspired fantasy— and I'm going to tag so that anyone who doesn't trust me— and nobody has to trust me— can navigate away. But when it comes to policing what other people are writing, I don't think it does anyone any good to post callouts on twitter. At most I'm going to warn a friend that a certain fic deals with a topic badly. That's my viewpoint.

[melpomeneprose]

"I can read well enough," Lola said, trying for gentleness, but she just sounded hardened and bitter. Not towards Benjamin, no, towards a system that would seize upon revolution and still sees fit not to educate her, for her race, for her lack of station, and for her... profession. She envies any harlot who can speak a language other than English, Lola has never met a harlot like that, certainly not on Hollow Ground. Though-- she ought not to fuss about it, no one educates slaves or women. As far as many are concerned, they aren't even people.

Insensible... Yes, he supposed he was. With as much as Benjamin strove to not be cruel or unkind, or lacking all feeling, he still found himself hung upon the tenterhooks of distance, preferring to be apart from those he swore to protect and serve, rather than witness their pains firsthand. He'd seen the injustices of war through Sarah's eyes, and that alone had nearly been enough to unman him.

"Least disgraced?" The words left his lips with a bitter laugh, though there was no longer any tension in Benjamin's shoulders. "With all due respect, madam, you barely even know me. We all wield a different personality with certain people -- little masks, if you will -- so the version of myself I present to you today may not be the same man I am tomorrow."

And God willing, it wouldn't be. He hated who he'd become.

Rolling his lips inward, Benjamin idly fiddled with the loosened button on his coat. Although he could easily have a doxy repair the garment, he didn't find it necessary; not when his actual men were in need, and he was afforded far better in terms of rations and lodgings. But he didn't need to continue being selfish, did he? Perhaps he could give in other ways...

"Can you read, Lola?" he softly asked. "If you will allow it, I'd like to send in a book upon Caleb's next...dalliance." His mouth twisted with slight distaste, though not towards her. "I foolishly brought far too many tomes with me upon my return to camp, thinking I might be content enough to read."

[shakespearefreak]

“Reaching Across Time”

The United States has come a long way since Addy’s time, but Makena still has to deal with problems and dangers due to the color of her skin. Just think how Addy might feel knowing Makena goes to school with kids of all races, and that one of her best friends is from an interracial family, but also how she had the police called on her and her sister for “breaking into” their own house! Or how Makena would respond to learning about the horrors of slavery that Addy lived through, the dangerous escape to freedom, and the way she and her family found each other again and re-invented themselves in the North.

…..

I got this idea on Juneteenth itself, but I didn’t have time to finish it that day. It was originally supposed to be just a quick thing, a sort of remix of this post I made a couple of years ago, but I ended up putting quite a bit of work into it.

Full disclosure: the backgrounds are (slightly edited) AI, done with Photoroom. I am aware that AI is harmful to both the environment and to artists, and I certainly don’t intend to make a habit of this. After a few days of trying and failing to use stock images for backgrounds, I decided that AI was the only way I would get this posted, at least at my current skill level. Someday I’ll go back and re-do it again, without the AI this time. (I also used Mac Photos and LunaPic for editing.)

I’m including an alternate version below the cut; it’s almost exactly the same, but with a dark sky dotted with stars separating the two girls. I can’t decide which one I like better; what do y’all think?

Note: I am White. If you are Black and find anything in this post offensive, please let me know and I’ll edit it or take it down!

[aggressiveworldbuilding]

i hate elves.

i say this, having played an elf before so i know why powergamers like them. there is nothing wrong with enjoying the aesthetic of 'twink with a sword' or 'elven accuracy go brrrr'.

but having read the 'elf book' (i think it was the same book as them releasing all the new variants of tieflings? i cant remember now) i was underwhelmed.

Elf lore is that they are basically No Name brand Tolkien elves with none of the interesting, ethereal bits and all of the xenophobia. Which - wanna preface this - there is nothing bad about exploring themes of discrimination in ttrpgs. It just. has to be handled with something other than misinterpreting or straight up copying Lord of the Rings?

I cannot for the life of me find the book it was in, but i remember reading that elves want to travel back to their homeland or feel a call to the beyond or something like that. Which is just. LotR elves but less interesting.

My main issue is that elves in WotC worlds offer nothing new to the genre. They are generic, easily digestible, bland ass creatures. I'm not as familiar with Pf2e lore but at least they actually bring up the problem of different lifespans in their description. Also! Elves change in appearance in pf depending on where they live. so we don't NEED 700 different kinds of elves.

Doing a cursory glance at a wiki (which is sad that only Fandom has info on WotC. one would think they would care more about their lore.) I get this.

This is everything they have on the general culture for elves. If i click into the lore sections for Sun Elves, it provides me with a little bit more - which is nice.

only issue is that Sun Elves aren't a thing anymore.

The most expansive lore for elves is. Drow. Eughhhhhh spider sex cult.

anyone who knows me irl has gotten the Drow Rant before; but recently I changed my mind. I don't hate Drow for what they do - but rather how it is presented.

Drow are an 'Evil Race' - although not Naturally Evil like Orcs (which was wild to read and i have a bone to pick abt that)

Yet their lore emphasizes that 'all' drow have a massive superiority complex, a lack of conventional morality, are vengeful, taught to be power hungry, and mistrust everyone around them - even the ones that don't want to be 'evil'. And you know what?

Thats rad! I like that!

There is a non-perfect society that doesn't always get along with itself. Granted the reason they provide as to why Drow haven't just killed each other is kindof a cop-out but with very minimal tweaking you might actually have something. The only thing i don't really like abt drow is that there is no 'good' or redeeming traits about them. Culture is 2 sides of the same coin; for every horrible policy, there was something relatively good. Maybe their judicial system is tight. Maybe they have great infrastructure. Idk but I want to know more.

i should make a post abt them.

Anyways TLDR: Elves deserve better. I find them bland because they are just empty husks stolen from Lord of the Rings, and half their lore no longer applies to modern dnd. Drow are the only semi-fleshed out elves and that scares me bc they are a spider sex cult. ;/

[sealz888]

Fallout headcanons for Vulpes 🥺

I'm trash I know

Thank you for your ask! I didn't realised I had this many thoughts on him compiled. I hope you enjoy these.

Heads up! Content warnings for Domestic Abuse, Domestic Violence, Misogyny, Slavery and general legion stuff. Triggering content is below the cut.

He has Oculotaneous Albinism, specifically Type 1b, explaining his white hair and light eyes, but his tan face. For the unaware and if I may cringe for a few moments, there are multiple types of Albinism, each with different effects and caused by different genes.

Doesn't actually know what a fox is, only donned the moniker after an older soldier nicknamed him. It's actually a coyote head.

He has to dye his hair often and use contacts as his OCA made him stick out like a sore thumb, especially in the Mojave, making it hard for him to infiltrate and spy. Keeps it short for the same reason.

His father actually joined the legion out of his own volition. His father grew up in a misogynistic society and resented his wife and Vulpes' Mother. However, for reasons below the cut, they were actually booted.

His mother gave birth to 3 girls after him.

Due to his abusive family life, he became extremely sneaky, carrying on his legion life. They noticed this and instead of punishing him, they doubled down, training him into a frumentarii.

When he was 7 his family assimilated into the legion, and his mother was pregnant with his third sister. After her birth she ""disappeared under mysterious circumstances"" and Vulpes' never saw her again. (see below cut)

Told his sisters stories to '''help''' them sleep, these stories were actually just him describing what monsters would brutally kill and eat them if they didn't sleep.

A year or two later, his father died in battle. Vulpes' never really cared for his family or bonded with his sister, considering he was dragged out of their lives for training. He was ecstatic when his father carked it, hated the fucker.

Actually managed to get his sisters to be given as wives, not really slaves somehow. I guess because he was related to him by blood and they were slaves, I guess, he was a slave too by proxy.

Had to keep it under wraps, however, considering his cold-hearted rep.

TRIGGERING CONTENT BELOW THE CUT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

He would often beat her and abuse her in displays of power in front of a young Vulpes' whose name at the time was Michael. Much of his mother's horror and father's admiration, he also began abusing his mother.

He would somewhat tolerate her before she gave birth to Vulpes, appalled that she birthed a '''""ghoul with skin""" and that she couldn't give birth to a normal child. It only got worse and worse as his sisters were born. Vulpes' was also abused for this, but stood proud of his appearance.

His father actually drowned his mother after she gave birth, he had a sneaking suspicion he killed her based on how much disdain he had for her, but doesn't know if it's confirmed.

[writerofweird]

As far as "Wizard of Oz but dark" designs go, this "Scarecrow King" from Shane Kirshenblatt's Dorothy Gale Journey to Oz is pretty sick. He belongs on a heavy metal album cover and I mean that as a compliment.

(Dorothy Gale: Journey to Oz was a webcomic set in a darker alternate Oz taken over by an evil Wizard after gaining control of the flying monkeys, where an older Dorothy and her boyfriend Thomas (nicknamed Toto) find themselves in. In it, Scarecrows are evil corpses reanimated by spiders, and there's also evil versions of the Tin Woodman, Jack Pumpkinhead and Tik-Tok. Most of the comic is unavailable online now, save for a few pages you can find by looking up freefallcomics dot com on archive dot org. There were physical book releases but they're fairly hard to find.)

[sunny12th]

no but it is really going to fuck with dany when she realizes there were people in the world that knew she was about to be sold off as a child bride/sex slave and did nothing to help her.

people that were loyal to rhaegar, loyal to her brother (and his son), but just not to her. because she's just a girl so selling her as a broodmare to a slaver is acceptable to them.

jon connington loved rhaegar enough to devote his life to protecting his son but that doesn't extend to rhaegar's sister.

dany thought there was no one to help her. she believed it was just her and her abusers. that there was no one in the world to save her but there was, they just chose not to.