#enslavement of people of color

[bijoumikhawal]

For the ship ask game: Sisko/Garak, Kira/Dax, O'Brien/Bashir

Sisko/Garak: ship it!

What made you ship it? I Do Not Remember. It may have been @ectogeo-rebubbles ITPM fic and it gradually grew on me but I don't know what to do with I now.

What are your favorite things about the ship? 1. Potential analysis for a very different way of being intimate with Garak, for one. With Julian he's always performing a bit, and his intimacy with Julian is cloaked in layers of complications and subterfuge- they're both very used to performing, performance is how that communicate. I find their dialogue often very easy to write because they're both very witty and vaudevillian (it's a dynamic some of the guys from my attempt at an audio drama have lol). But with Sisko I've noticed that Garak has points where he drops the jovial attitude and is very straightforward with him, kind of like he's dropping a ruse. It's not that Sisko doesn't enjoy those mannerisms of Garak's- as I think @wanderingwriter87 pointed out, Sisko appreciates Garak's bits- or that that's false behavior from Garak, but it's a kind of unmasking Garak is not prone to allow. 2. There's a very different power dynamic between them- perhaps controversial but during the run of the show I think Garak is put in a weak position, powerwise, compared to the vast majority of other characters as an exile who does not seem to have his citizenship sorted out. Socially, however, there are ways he wields power with Julian or even like, Quark where he's clearly got an upper hand that he doesn't with Sisko, who is of the same generation as Garak. Like, Garak does very notably manipulate him, but not the way he does with other people. And 3. Comparing and contrasting the social contexts they come from. Obviously Hebitians are like, my blorbo culture, but they're both middle aged men who adore children, and are pretty family oriented! However Sisko has a pretty healthy relationship to his family and Garak's family is an... on fire dumpster. Garak is very loyal to his father and craves his love and needs his approval for survival, while also calling him a monster and wishing him dead. Sisko seems to have trouble understanding that other people have severely negative relationships to their parents that may not be able to get resolved (it happens at least twice) because his father has been a good man to him. And to top all that off, Sisko has a son who's coming into adulthood! Children are their own whole people! Family is not a physically distant concept for him!

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? I don't think there are popular opinions... maybe that I don't think Garak actually caught Sisko as off guard as people act like he did during IPTM. Like, Sisko’s anger is less about what Garak did and more about the fact that he knows what he did. Sisko knows who garak is, what he's capable of, and if not specifics of what he used to do, the kind of things he used to do. Hell, this is after Garak went to jail for trying to do mass murder. Sisko was planet side during that!

Kira/Dax: I have no hard feelings on it, but I think saying I ship it is lesbian-pair the spares type cheating. I find Kira interesting and have been trying to read more stuff about Jadzia to understand more about her, but I don't rotate them in my head as much separately or together to feel like it counts. I think I've written more like- character analysis? On Kai Winn than on Kira through my perspective of her as a martyr-that-wasn't and how I think DS9 fails to accurately understand and critique the religious context Bajor exists within. Which is funny, because I like Kira and think Winn is a super shitty person- I've mostly ended up thinking about her more because people have such bad takes about her.

O'Brien/Bashir- I don't ship it

Why don't you ship it? Honestly I genuinely think Miles is straight, I don't think his and Julian's relationship has that kind of intimacy and I struggle to understand the intimacy they do have as friends (Miles being an "everyman" means he's a bit of a "shittyman" and we'd be fine co-workers- he's a lot better than some of the people I worked with in welding, which is like winning and award for tallest dwarf- but I would not voluntarily talk to him on off hours). And frankly any openness I've had to it has been killed by the shitty and annoying behavior I've seen from Jiles fans towards their "competition". I'm sure some of it isn't like- sincere? But it's a style of humor and behavior I find rude and off-putting. Also like- I don't like how most people talking about it regard Keiko.

What would have made you like it? You could maybe analyze how Julian thinks he knows what's best for people and that makes him more inclined towards decisions in intrapersonal relationships that really are bad for everyone, I did read a ficlet like that once with it that I found compelling

Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it? I do think it can be an interesting analysis of repression on Miles's part and I hope people have fun with it

#cipher talk #ds9 #Plus the ringleader of the bad behavior for Jiles stuff made fun of the scene where Julian gets SAed by fake Jadzia in IWWH that I find #Really fucking disgusting as a 'male' SA survivor who is aware of the ways in which its socially acceptable to mock us and play off #Our suffering like it's nothing #Sure it's a joke but do you have any idea how many fucking jokes I hear??? Most of you people aren't funny #Plus there's a type of 'jokes' around how miles interacts with Julian founded on making fun of Julian for being British I find a little uh #Fucked up? I don't think joking about a white person calling a non white person slurs funny and I find a lack of understanding of race in #Their relationship very offputting #Like it's straight up canon that Miles is racist and his wife calls him out on it #And I don't buy that racism doesn't exist in human culture towards other humans. That's what happens when white people try to write that #For me I can't separate 'miles is racist' from him getting fixated on beating Julian at racquet ball and projecting that Julian must be #Being smug towards him about it onto him when he infodumps. Like thats a thing white men constantly do towards men of color #re: athletic ability. It comes off kind of subtly disturbing for me #Plus the Jem'hadar oh my fucking g-d there's such a blatant racial subtext to Miles thinking they need to be kept enslaved for the safety o #The quadrant and Julian thinking that's bad actually

[sun-marie]

Also also. I don't go here and I may be striking the hornet's nest but the actual audacity of the creators of Final Fantasy XVI not to include people of color by using ye olde "this game takes place in fantasy europe and black people hadn't been invented yet" stupid argument while also centering it's major world building around slavery is soooooooo icky 🤢

#it smacks of 'we don't acknowledge the existence of this traumatized people but we still want to profit off of their pain' #like it's so gross #i didn't play it but I was interested in it so I watched one of those 8-hour supercuts of the cutscenes so I know the basic plot #and before any international peeps come at me for being another american who assumes they're the center of the universe #yes I know people of all races have been enslaved throughout history all over the world #but idk from the way the developers talked about it just seems like a convenient excuse to erase people of color #and not like they were trying to tell some specific story that required their exclusion #anyway Ben Starr deserves the nomination for his performance of Clive and that is the only acknowledgement this game deserves #marie speaks

[thenerdcommander]

My family is so fucking exhausting I'm so fucking sick of it

#mom was complaining about noise at night so I made a joke about her sucking it up and sleeping in her bedroom with dad (he snores) #and just collect on life insurance #they all pretended I made a threat/serious suggestion despite THEM making ACTUALLY suspicious jokes all the time (about murdering people/ #using racial slurs/doling out general hate speech and laughing at it as though it's funny) #and they tried to gaslight me into believing they DON'T say worse shit every time they open their mouths #“We've NEVER heard a joke like that!!! That's messed up!!!” lies. You “joke” about killing/enslaving black and trans people all the time #and you make no effort to make it come off as a joke (because it's not and you mean it) but when *I* make an OBVIOUSLY NOT SERIOUS #comment it's suddenly horrible and I belong in a psych ward??? just because the delivery wasn't to suit you???? #then they turned around and cried racist because I called them out on their bullshit because apparently pointing out that the things THEY #say and do they're going to eventually do in front of the wrong person and they will get attacked for it (esp using racial slurs #openly and with the mentality that “Only white people get mad at them!!!” like no I'm sorry that's just not the case) is??? Racist??? #POC (black and otherwise) have been telling white people not to use those words for a VERY FUCKING LONG TIME you shitstains #and me saying you're going to get retaliated against has nothing to do with whatever skin color you attributed to that statement. Another #white person would attack you for using those words just as likely as the people you're oppressing. So how about you don't??? Use them??? #but nah that makes me racist apparently #racism according to repubs: telling them not to use racial slurs #they seriously cannot fucking grasp that what I said does no harm but what they say ALL THE TIME causes a LOT for a lot of people #but *I'm* the bad guy??? Ok. #my humor and yours aren't comparable but sure. Keep projecting

[merrygejelh]

Nuwho writers need to put down the daleks until they actually learn how to use them

#i agree that they’re too invincible and silly and powerful now #but I think that’s the symptom not the cause #which is that daleks in their early depictions were representing a very specific cultural problem #(cold war era xenophobia nuclear anxiety militarization etc) #the daleks exist as a narrative stand in for that real-world cultural problem; their traits are reverse engineered from those extremes #you can’t have compelling daleks without that clarity #they can’t just be a generic Evil That Is Evil Because Evil #they have to actually. have depth to be compelling #like yeah they’re silly killer robots but they’re silly killer robots *who were once like us* and that’s what makes them interesting #literally just having them call All non-daleks ‘aliens’ again would solve 90% of the problem #they’re xenophobia embodied! there’s so much you can do with that #they’re the worst parts of the British. they go to a planet and call the people there Aliens that must be Killed/Enslaved #you can make that interesting again! you can make that scary again! #you don’t need to give them a new color scheme or make secret dalek humans or fully robot daleks or whatever #it doesn’t matter what they Are it matters what they Do

[msculper]

thank god cato got thirty seconds of screen time

#turn watching #look i understand the limitations of television #but there are several enslaved people and people of color *vital* to rev war intelligence #that i wish got more recognition in the show

[z0mbiechylde]

First Time Watching | Facts About Slavery Never Mentioned In Schools (Th...

#youtube #racism #slavery #facts about slavery #yeah who would have THOUGHT that humans enslaved each other?? #why are black people so surprised about the truth?? #the strong have always enslaved the weak #has nothing to do with skin color #this is why BLM is the biggest fucking scam ever

[doberbutts]

I also think it is, hmm, incredibly dangerous to say that [privileged demographic] has a lot to lose or only loses when discussing activism meant to resolve bigotry. That is a really good way to tell said demographic that it is not worth it to invest in your cause.

The only thing men have to lose from supporting feminism is misogyny. Feminism is not about tearing men down. It is about lifting women up.

The only thing white people have to lose from anti-racism is racism. Anti-racism is not about tearing white people down. It's about lifting people of color up.

And it *is* important to have this distinction, and to tell the privileged demographic that it helps them too, because right now bigots of all flavors are purposefully misrepresenting this activism as "blacks want to enslave all whites" and "feminists want to kill all men". Don't prove these assholes right for them for free, hello???

"Hey white people, you know how Healthcare in this country sucks and how once you're super poor it's very hard to crawl out of the pit and public transportation is a joke? And you know how you want to fix these things because it would better society? Well you're in luck because racism is a significant factor in why this problem persists so if you want to fix this problem you should start caring about fixing racism" is not "centering white people when talking about racism", it's showing the whole of society how deep the claws of oppression have sunk into our lives and how to stop the bleeding.

[redjaybathood]

You know, it's kinda funny to see the "Ukrainians are white so they are more privileged compared to Palestinians" posts right when there's another air attack alert in Kyiv. Will my low chances of being shot dead at traffic stop in USA help me survive a Kinzhal rocket dropped at my house?

"You're white so this is why the racist media supports you" - sure, if you disregard a campaign to smear Ukraine that's being going since 2013. Yeah, before the war started.

"You're white and that's why governments support you, so don't whine" ironic seeing yet another refusal to give us more weapons. More ironic is, our victory is crucial to the world's stability and food security - your, my friend, safety and ability to feed yourself. Even more ironic, that countries that oh support us so much, and who rely on us to keep them safe, are dragging their feet so we die, die, die... How white of us.

"You're white, you don't deserve to be treated with basic empathy. You don't deserve respect, your life is worth nothing" from one side, and from another, it's "You are subhuman, you don't deserve basic empathy or respect, your life is worthless..." from another.

Let me be clear. Whatever issues you have with white people, we didn't do shit to you. We were the colonized people, we were enslaved. We are experiencing genocide - yet again from the hands of the same empire. You don't have a higher moral ground here - you have a social media acceptable target. Our whiteness makes it okay to call us names, be happy when we die, manipulate data, pictures, to show how unworthy we are of the help we managed to get. Spread propaganda justifying our genocide. Spread narratives that become barriers to us receiving said help we are, in your merry-world, entitled to. Justify why you personally call for people to stop helping us.

We didn't do shit to you. You are doing it to us. You are punching down. And that's your privilege, being an arrogant and ignorant cunt somewhere a bomb is not going to drop on you, whatever your skin color is.

#to say nothing about our Ukrainians of color who are under the same danger se are #to say nothing about silent deportation Crimean Tatars experience #i am so sick of it

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

YEARNING || Intro

Some meetings are nothing but fleeting coincidence- others are what we call fate.

Tags/Warnings: Dragonblood!Prince!Jungkook, Human!Reader, Angst, Some fluff if you squint?, Jungkook is emotionally constipated oops

Length: 4.8k Words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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It’s been a long time since you’ve been put in your cell, and yet, you don’t provide the castle guards with any answers they might seek.

The straw pinches and picks at your skin, but it’s warm and soft whenever you sleep. The food you receive is barely enough to fill you, but it keeps you alive, and gives you something to do during the day. The only sunlight you get is from a small, barred up opening far up on the back wall of your cell- one of many, placed in rows, but always with a wall in between each cage to separate the prisoners. Isolate them.

Today, it’s raining.

Two guards enter the hall underground you’re in, opening your cell. “looks like you’ll get a shower.” One chuckles, before he puts the shackles around your wrists, tugging you out by the chain that connects them to one another. This is also not new. Sometimes, they’ll put you out in the snow, or the wind, or today- the rain.

But you’ve got nothing to say.

The light stings your eyes as you can hardly see, stumbling more than walking after the guard who chains your hands to a large, wooden construct meant to hold onto the chain from your shackles. “Maybe it’ll wash the grime off.” The guard jokes to the one next to him, before he leaves your already shivering body behind.

As your eyes adjust to the brightness, you look up- finally able to see the flying dragons above clearly, their wings keeping them circling in the skies, colors mixing.

This is why you’re here.

Dragons are seen as dangerous, wild and violent creatures that humanity needs to be protected from. Therefore, dragon eggs and nests need to be reported, and any sightings too- so when you failed to do so, and even offered a once injured beast shelter, you’ve made yourself an enemy to the kingdom.

Especially because you refuse to reveal where it went after you’ve nursed it back to health.

And you will continue to stay quiet, because you know that dragons aren’t the vile beings they’re made out to be. No- the real beasts are the humans here, who enslave their own people just for choosing to help an injured creature that’s not of the same kind.

This isn’t fair.

And if that is what life is all about- you don’t want it.

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They throw a young man into the cell right next to yours, where you’re still laying on the floor, still recovering from the rain and cold from yesterday.

He can’t be just a normal human being- the jewelry he still wears on his face and ears distinctive, just like the ink beneath his skin. He’s probably one of the dragonblood people.

He watches you for a good while, before he actually speaks, quietly so. “what did you do?” He asks, and your eyes look at him from where you’re laying on the floor near the hay.

“…I hid a dragon from the kingdom.” You answer just as quietly, eyes closing again.

“Why?” the young man asks.

“Because it.. was hurt.” You simply offer the truth.

“Did they survive?” He questions further, and you nod, a smile tugging on your lips.

“Can you hear them?” the man asks, but you shake your head.

“I’m not one of them.” You answer. “I’m just.. human.” You tell him, and he falls quiet again.

Having nothing more to say.

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Today, they’ve taken you both out again. Him in the cage, you chained up near him, hands bound by shackles attached to a wooden post.

It’s nighttime, and they’ve not yet taken you back inside like usual.

“You cannot hear them..” Comes a voice from the side, the young man turned towards you, the fire of a nearby torch reflecting off of his dark eyes. You nod- he’s most likely been imprisoned for a reason regarding dragons as well. “and yet you helped them?”

You shrug, which is barely noticeable amongst your shaking body. “..it felt unfair t-to leave it and l-let it be captured.” You admit to him. “E-everything was fine.” You say, and he just watches you, only a few larger dragons now left in the skies above. “but- b-but then I fought with my brother. And so he wrote a letter t-to the court.” You giggle, remembering the poor writing of his. Frankly, you couldn’t write at all- but still. For someone who thinks so highly of himself such as your brother, he sure lacks in every task and talent.

“What did you fight about?” the young man wonders.

“H-he had told me I had t-to leave the house we inherited from our p-parents, because he’d found a potential woman for himself.” You say. “A-and I told him to at least let me stay in the c-cabin close by.” You explain, voice stammering due to the cold. “He said I couldn’t. So we fought. Because.. I had nowhere else to go.” You admit. “I was scared.”

The young man is silent at that.

“can you hear them?” You ask, eyes closed as you hear his own chains move around with him as he adjusts his sitting position.

“I can.” He tells you, and you smile.

“Do you think they know?” You wonder, an open question he interprets as you asking if they know of your past actions for them. “maybe t-that’s why they’re above..” you figure, and it’s quiet for a moment.

“They know.” He tells you, and you nod, accepting that answer. He’s most likely just trying to comfort you, and you appreciate that. Your shivering slowly stops, and you know it’s not a good sign.

“I’m glad.” You say to him, tension leaving your body as you open your eyes again- surprised to see him look at you still, but his gaze doesn’t unsettle you like it does the guards. Maybe because to you, he’s an equal. He’s just as much in this situation as you are.

“Hold on a bit longer.” He says, and you’re not sure what he means by that- when suddenly, something crashes down, sky darkening as it fills with dragons, fire filling up the ground for a moment as one of them shields the young man from the guards approaching. He’s saying something, you’re not sure what- as his cage is torn and bent apart, steel unable to hold it’s shape against the claws of the beasts claiming the skies and mountains as theirs.

A dark brown dragon approaches you, bites at the chains of your shackles, before they break and have you released- body falling to the wet ground, where it is picked up by hands to be placed on the back of the beast.

You’re not very aware what happens. You just feel cold- and oddly warm, all at the same time.

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When you wake up, you’re warm- and also, not alone.

There’s multiple little.. animals? All laying on the blankets that cover you- and as you look closer, you realize they’re young dragons. “Oh, you’re awake.” A man says, noticing your opened eyes. “I was worried you might need more time. My name is Seokjin.” He offers, before adjusting a pillow. “You’re.. somewhere safe. That’s all you need to know for now.” He kindly offers, when the door opens.

“Oh, she’s up.” The other man says, politely nodding towards you. “I’ll tell the kitchen that she’ll eat too?” He asks, and Seokjin nods.

“But only some soup for now, the same as the others we took in.” He explains. “and yes, that includes Jungkook. Make sure he doesn’t steal anything from the kitchen.” He says, as the man chuckles and leaves. “That was Taehyung, by the way. He’s mainly responsible for the young hatchlings- but he’s also in charge of handling the new Hiwerns we took in.”

“…Hiwern?” You wonder, and Seokjin nods.

“yes. Hiwerns- are you not one?” he wonders as be helps you sit up. “Jungkook didn’t tell us much about you, so I assumed you were- despite you being rather.. small.” He says, and only now do you notice how tall he is.

“Jungkook?” you ask, unsure. “the.. other prisoner?” You ask, and Seokjin smiles.

“Yes. He was taken after he got caught off guard.. but we all know what the prince is like.” He laughs, making your eyes widen. “Wait.. you.. seem confused.”

“I am.” You say. “I’m not.. I don’t know anything about a.. prince?” You question, when someone walks in-

The man you remember.

“Jin, why do I need to keep eating soup- oh.” He notices, looking at you before his face becomes more gentle. “Hello. It’s good to see you up.”

“She’s a bit confused.” Seokjin says, as Jungkook nods.

“I figured.” He simply sighs. “I’ll talk to you later. I’d like to talk to her alone right now.” He requests, and Seokjin leaves, while Jungkook stays behind to sit on the edge of your bed.

He looks different. Skin clean, and dressed in clearly well made clothes- fit for a prince, like Seokjin had mentioned. “ask away. You must have many questions judging by the way you look.” Jungkook says, and you look to the little dragon hatchling that curls up near your legs, continuing to sleep.

“Hiwern.” You begin. “What.. is that?” You wonder.

“I’m a Hiwern. So is he, and almost everyone else here.” He simply replies. “Hiwerns are.. people who have dragon blood inside of them. We’re like.. descendants of the more traditional dragons, so to say. That’s why we can hear them, and speak their language.” He offers as an explanation. “that’s a very simplified version of it all. But you don’t need to know much more than that.” Jungkook says.

“…and you’re a prince?” You ask a bit more hesitant, and he nods.

“I am. At least, for the Hiwern people.” He shrugs. “for your people I’m nothing more than a monster.” He says, and you shamefully look down.

“What.. what is going to happen to me?” You wonder, and he just smiles as he gets up, hissing a bit probably due to his injuries he sustained while captured.

“You’ll heal. After that, we’ll bring you back to your people.” He reassures you, as he opens the door to let Seokjin back inside-

Leaving you with a dark wish to never heal at all.

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The snow is deep, as you and Jungkook walk through the woods in the mountains together.

You’re humming a song that catches his attention, making him turn to look at you over his shoulder. “how do you know this song?” He questions.

“My mother hummed it often. I just.. picked it up.” You answer a bit hesitant. “I can stop if you want..” you say, but he shakes his head.

“its no problem.” He answers. “your voice is.. soothing to listen to.”

“What is.. the song about?” You ask, awkwardly asking your questions because you don’t want to overstep a line- but this is a unique opportunity to satisfy some curiosity you’ve always had.

“The song of the daughter.” He answers. “it’s.. a tale of the first Hiwern daughter of the mountains.” Jungkook explains. “according to.. tales, there were once four daughters born from a dragon mother. One in the mountains, one near the sea, one in the desert, and one in the woods.” He recites. “and they gave their gift of dragonblood to their children, and so on. That’s how.. we apparently came to be. Sons and daughter’s born and travelled, and we eventually formed our own society.” He shrugs.

“So.. there’s Hiwerns all over the world?” You ask, and he nods.

“But since the royal families have made the act of dragon-speech illegal, we have been hiding.” He explains. “where is.. your family?” Jungkook asks as he walks further down the mountains with you.

“My mother was hung a few years ago, for.. the same thing I was supposed to be hung for.” You say, walking next to him. “but.. they didn’t hang me, because they wanted me to tell them where the dragon went.” You explain. “so they could find the nest.”

Jungkook stays quiet for a while, before he speaks again. “You said you have a brother?” Jungkook asks, and you nod.

“I was living with him after my mother died. Until.. he sent a letter out that exposed what I’d done.” You say.

“He’s a human too, I assume?” Jungkook wonders, and you nod your head.

“though we are only somewhat blood related. We have the same father, but not the same mother.” You tell him. He nods, quietly, before he walks further.

“this is as far as I’ll take you.” He says, before offering the bag to you. “There’s rations in here, and something to help you on your way.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” You tell him, but he shakes his head.

“take it as.. me repaying the kindness you’ve shown before.” He offers. Under different circumstances, he would’ve let you stay with him- but he can’t simply trust a kind face and gentle hands in times like these.

You’re still human. And humans can’t be trusted.

So you nod your goodbye, quietly, as you walk away from him and towards an uncertain future-

Leaving the prince with a slightly bitter taste on his tongue.

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Jungkook knows what the dragons are doing just a few days after you left- but that doesn’t mean he quite understands their reasons for doing it.

Sure, you’ve helped a young dragon in the past. And sure, you’ve been very sweet to the hatchlings too for the very short time you’ve been here. But why do all dragons seem to have this.. strange interest in you?

“You seem in thought.” Namjoon asks, as he places his books back into their respective spots in his library.

“I am.” Jungkook’s responds, looking out the window. “There’s.. do the dragons seem to be acting.. strange to you?” He asks, and Namjoon turns around to face him.

“..You’re talking about her.” He says, and Jungkook nods.

“They’re not very clear in their reasoning as to why they seem so interested in her.” Jungkook says. “and it’s most certainly neither prey drive nor distrust.”

“Its curiosity.” Namjoon finishes, as he puts another book between two others to keep them all in order. “Maybe because she’s living out in the open. From what I’ve heard, she’s not gone to any villages yet.”

“No.” the prince denies. “they.. almost watch over her.” He shakes his head, arms crossed. “Feann keeps flying over the area she currently resides in. And Gowren apparently keeps her company at night.” He explains, remembering the things he’s heard from the wild dragons of the area. “But they refuse to tell me their reasons as to why.”

“protectiveness. Interesting, considering she’s got no Hiwern blood.” Namjoon agrees with the prince’s suspicion. “they should naturally be wary of her- but if you remember, the hatchlings didn’t mind her either.” He offers.

You definitely spoke the truth when claiming that you were human, that much he knows. So why this interest in you?

“Maybe you could send out someone to check up on her.” Namjoon says. “I know this is making you nervous.”

“I probably have to.” Jungkook agrees. “I don’t want them to become too friendly with a human. The younglings might misunderstand, and lose their natural fear of humans.” He worries, and Namjoon nods.

“How about you send out Hoseok? Yoongi might be human, but he would most likely just intimidate her.” He proposes. “and, Hoseok is faster.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook nods. “thank you.” He nods,

Walking out the library to find the man in question right away.

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“Oh.” You say, spotting Hoseok walking towards you. You’ve seen him before, fleetingly, but you can remember faces well.

“You’ve come fairly far.” The man tells you, before he nods politely, and sets down a small bag of things. “these are sent by Seokjin.” He informs you, and you accept the bag that’s filled with some foods for you to eat, as well as a blanket.

“I- I’ll be out of the area soon, I promise.” You tell Hoseok. “I’m just.. not that fast.”

“There’s no need to rush, really-“ He starts, when suddenly, a young but large dragon clumsily makes its way down to instead almost.. shield you from the man?

“Huh?” you’re caught off guard, and mostly confused.

“This is.. something else.” Hoseok says, before he says something in a language you don’t understand- and you take it as a message to leave, as you slowly get up from your spot, to bury the remnants of the little fire you made, so you don’t draw too much attention to your existence. “where are you going?” Hoseok asks.

“Away.” You answer. “I’m not sure where to.. but I really don’t want to cause any problems for you or anyone else, really.” You explain yourself. “Prince Jungkook gave me the chance to be set free and start over- it would be ungrateful not to take it.” You tell him, and he nods.

It's not his place to question your actions.

And so he makes his way back, returns to the safety of his home and hidden town hidden by the high up mountains, where Namjoon already informs him that the prince wants to hear what he’s found right away.

“She gives her thanks. For the supplies I’ve given her- though I did not reveal the actual sender, like you told me to.” Hoseok says as he sits down with Jungkook, who’s just finished eating in his room.

“..was she well?” He asks, and the older Hiwern nods.

“She seemed fairly good given her situation.” He offers. “she is leaving the area as we speak.”

“I did not tell you to send her away.” Jungkook growls a bit argumentative, and Hoseok shakes his head.

“I know. It’s her choice she made herself.” He instead answers, though it doesn’t seem to pacify the prince very much. “why? She’s right in saying that it is for the best.”

“Id argue against that. Its for our best- but not hers.” Jungkook mumbles, understanding very well that you can’t just waltz back into the human towns as if nothing happened. You’re still wanted after all- and this time they won’t be so lenient, he’s sure of it.

“How come you’re so concerned, yet you sent her away?” Hoseok asks, curious. “We’ve taken Yoongi in, years ago. So it’s not like what she is could be the problem.” He almost teases.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook answers, leaning his chin on his hand. “I don’t.. I’m not sure about her.”

“You’re scared of a human?” the older dragonblood laughs, but the prince just rolls his eyes.

“it’s not fear. But.. uncertainty.” He admits instead. “The dragons are awfully attached. And so is my blood.” He says, referring to his inner dragon. “I’ve been.. dreaming of her.”

“Oh no, I’d rather not know.” Hoseok jokes.

“Trust me, I’d rather have simple desire filled visions than.. whatever it is that’s going on. If it was just sexual dreams I’d at least have a proper explanation as to what I’m supposed to do about it.” Jungkook shakes his head. “But instead, I just.. hear her sing.”

“Sing?” Hoseok wonders, interested.

“Humming, to be precise. The song of the Daughter.” The prince explains. “it keeps echoing in my head, and it’s quite frankly starting to drive me crazy.”

“And you think sending her away will help?” the older man asks without needing an answer. “it’s what you think you need to do, but what you actually need-“ hoseok stands up to place a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “-is an answer.”

“..You’re right.” The prince runs a hand over his face. “I’ll send out someone to find her, and bring her here. I can’t go on like this.” He says with frustration, before getting up to talk to Namjoon.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

Maybe, sending Yoongi was not quite the brightest idea the prince has had.

Because Yoongi notices quickly, that despite being on horseback, there’s no catching you. He’s spotted you already, has called out to you- but just like a freshly hatched dragon youngling, you seem to have an ingrown fear of anything remotely human. And the distrust is also clear, as you do not seem to care about his explanation of being sent by the Hiwern prince himself.

He can’t blame you. A former slave himself, he knows that his own kind is never to be believed.

There’s no arguing with you, as you play a game of hide and seek it seems like, and in a way, it’s almost an exciting change of pace for the usual slow and steady life in the mountains. “Please stop-!” He calls out again as he spots you once more-

But you’re running. And by the dragons above, you’re fast.

His horse is trying to keep up, even through the trees and bushes, but you’re at an advantage as you jump and duck your way left and right, until you find yourself out in the open, a river flowing past in quick motion. You would’ve had to cross it either way. There’s no way around it.

“Don’t do that!” Yoongi warns, well aware of the slippery stones and strong current most likely becoming a death trap if underestimated- and you seem to do just that, as you make your way through, legs soaking up the cold water. “stop- you’ll get hurt!” He calls out once more, but you just glare at him-

A fire equal to a dragon’s breath in your eyes.

And then, you slip, and fall right into the water, making Yoongi lead his horse as fast as it can run next to the riverbed, to keep an eye on you as best as he can- but the moment you seem to lose consciousness, he knows he’s lost.

“fuck!” Yoongi curses, horse refusing to move m as a dragon dives down from above to help- body blocking the river for a moment to catch yours against it, giving Yoongi an opportunity to drag you out and into the nearby grass.

The silvery dragon watches intensely as Yoongi helps you cough up the water swallowed, while others swarm the skies as if they heard the commotion and came to see for themselves. “can you hear me? What hurts?” Yoongi asks, concerned but also annoyed- and you just shiver for the moment, seemingly accepting whatever fate might fall onto you.

The fellow human sighs, before he moves to his horse to fetch a blanket he packs for emergencies- wrapping it around you, before he helps you onto its back to bring you where Jungkook had requested you to.

He's holding onto you with one arm, your body leaning against his front as you sit in front of him. “…how will I die?” You ask with a hoarse voice.

He chuckles. “hopefully not at all.” He answers. “The prince will already scold me enough for having you fall into the river.”

You sleepily watch the dragons above follow hou both- and decide that you believe him.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“no need.” The man denies. “I can understand. And I would’ve been just as wary if I was you.” He offers.

“Why.. do I have to go back?” You wonder. “did I do something wrong?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s nothing bad.” He reassures you, as he’s let through by the guards stationed a good while before the town begins. “you can sleep soon. Hold out a bit longer.” He requests, and you nod, trying hard to do just that.

But just as a concerned looking Hoseok and Seokjin help you down the horse, you can’t stay awake any longer.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“She’s still asleep.” Seokjin says, as Jungkook stands in front of the door to your room, as he’s been told.

“It is almost noon. I need to see her-“ the prince argues, but the older man shakes his head as he takes the hand from the door.

“She needs to rest first.” He urges.

“Rest?” Jungkook questions. “What happened?”

“According to Yoongi, she was scared and did not believe him when he told her he was sent by your request.” Jin explains. “She ran off, and fell into the river close to the south border of the woods. Qen helped- if she didn’t block the river and catch her, we most likely would’ve lost her.” He says.

Jungkook stares at the door.

“I’d like to see her, still.” He says, unsure why he feels this urge. He really should let you rest, but he at least wants to look at you, for reasons he’s not sure of.

“But do be quiet.” Seokjin sighs, as he opens the door to the room you’re sleeping in, a hatchling having entered from the window, sleeping soundly on your legs.

Jungkook walks in with stealth, not wanting to disturb your rest.

He stays near the door, not walking any closer, and it helps his ache quite a bit already to just see you sleep there. Like his mind if finally reassured again that you’re close by and taken care of, his chest feels lighter, not as constricted as before.

This is wrong.

The signs all point to one simple answer, and he knows it, as does Namjoon, and most likely Seokjin and Hoseok as well. But a connection like that can’t be, isn’t meant to work and shouldn’t be condoned nor explored by himself. You do not belong in his world, and neither does he belong into yours.

He has to fulfill his own blood’s final task, after all- bring a Hiwern child into this world, to keep his people alive for another generation. Something that only a hiwern Mother can do for him, as dragonblood is only given to the child by the mother, not the father.

He would betray his entire kind if he was to give into whatever this sick and twisted joke of nature is.

And he can’t do that, especially not as a prince. He’s got a duty to fulfill, he’s viewed as a leader and example. Anyone else would most likely be looked past- but not him. All eyes are on him, at all times.

He can’t do this.

So he instead makes his way out the door again, to find Namjoon and cut this bond before it can get any tighter.

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

“I do not care.” Jungkook argues, pacing from side to side in front of the window of his study, Namjoon sitting down with a troubled expression on his face. “Yoongis situation is not the same as mine. He will bring a Hiwern child into this world, I will not of I let this happen.” The prince argues.

“You don’t even know if she has any emotional connection to you.” Namjoon tries to explain. “If you would just take some time and-“

“And what? Let this bond grow until we both get hurt when we inevitably have to sever it?” The prince scoffs. “I will not be the reason my kind fails to survive.”

“You’re acting as if we’re on the brink of extinction..” Namjoon tells him. “What are you so scared of?” He worries, and Jungkook falls silent, as he looks outside the window.

“Of setting a wrong example.” He mumbles. “Even if the people accept it, what if it sets off a chain reaction I can’t control? Humans aren’t to be trusted, let alone get close to. The fear we teach our children has to stay intact.”

“And it will. Yoongi still can’t get close to any of the younger-“ Namjoon starts, but Jungkook snaps his head around, still upset.

“And yet she seems to be considered as a surrogate mother for the hatchlings. Namjoon, you’ve seen it too- I don’t know what sick joke they’re playing on me right now, but I can’t let this continue.” The prince says. “she will leave, after we separate the bond. And that’s final.”

“I hope you know that you’re asking a lot of me.” Namjoon lowly says, and Jungkook nods, serious.

“and if you can’t do it,” Jungkook says, before turning around again-

“Then I’ll find someone else who will.”

◇━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━◇

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook x reader

[flowwsblog]

You’re so warm—

a/n; I’m new to the community soo please don’t be too harsh on me 😭😭 (But I need the feedback anyways). Also this fic is going to be pretty long for my first, (it being in two parts lol) but enjoy!!

Timothee!Willy wonka x f!Reader

Summary: in which reader has trouble falling asleep and runs into a certain someone. What could happen?

Warnings: pure fluff 😊

You had been working at the ‘laundry covered prison’- as you and noodle had called it- for a couple years now.

You had gotten there same as everyone, looking for a cheepy place to stay in this economy; and failed to read the fine print. So there was obviously something suspicious going on.

Worse led to worse as Mrs. Scrubbit had enslaved you (which is how you saw it) and forced you to do laundry work. Along with all the other fellow workers/people trapped in the dusty basement.

You befriended each one of them as time went by, not having any other choice. But being the second youngest one there; noodle was the first one you immediately grew close too.

And one day while scrubbing some old laundry, you heard a yell. Well everyone did.

Everyone’s attention shot towards the clothing shute, where a lanky, frightened looking young man had been thrown down.

____________

Ever since that day, your life couldn’t have been more interesting. The man, whose name you learned was Willy Wonka, was the most amazing human you had ever met. He was a magician, chocolatier, and humungous dreamer. What better man to sweep you off your feet?

But welcoming a handsome new guest meant bunking with someone else. Mrs. Scrubbit did not want the fuss of fixing up a new bedroom, leading to Mr. Wonka inhabiting your old room.

You loved noodle, she was like a little sister to you, so you did not complain in the slightest to sharing a room with her.

_____________

One night, you couldn’t sleep. You grabbed a thin blanket and wrapped it around your lightly trembling body. You made sure noodle was wrapped sorta-snug in the worn out bed before descending from the room.

Your thin loafers tapped the cold wooden floor lightly, wandering down the hall to the bathroom. As you walked by a certain door, your steps faltered, but soon continuing its journey to the wash room.

You and wonka has become close friends, similar to the friendship of yours and noodles, but being closer age wise made things different. You hadn’t talked to a boy your age since grade school, so having a male presence now made you exceedingly nervous.

Upon becoming comfortable with Willy, his presence had started to take a toll on you. Butterflies erupting when he would get particularly close. Or breath faltering when he would just, be in the room? You were confused. Maybe it was his shiny, chocolate colored curls or his full green eyes that lured you towards him. But whatever it was, you were hooked.

You closed the door and turned on the light, eyes squinting from the brightness; your handing coming up to shield them.

You turned on the sink and splashed water on your face. The water being cold not helping. You just wiped your face and turned off the light; heading out. This trip definitely helped.

As you opened the door you see another door opening. Expecting noodle’s small body to come out and ask why you left. Instead you get a taller, handsomer is that a word, man leaving his room. Rubbing his eyes softly.

You sigh, ‘What great timing!’, You think sarcastically to yourself. You carefully approach him and smile.

“Hi y/n” he hums with a sleepy smile. Which makes your stomach flutter. “What ya’ doin up so late?”

“Oh nothing, I can’t sleep. And you?” You turn to face him, studying his defined cheekbones and messy curls. Beautifully misplaced from sleep.

“Hm, I heard something and thought it was the little orange man coming to steal my chocolate again. But I’m glad it was you.” Your face grew 10 shades of pink at the comment. God, if he knew how he made you feel you would be in such trouble, or worse, jail. You’re glad it was dark or else he would’ve seen your embarrassing reaction. You smiled nonetheless. “Thank you Mr. Wonka”

He smiled at the name, knowing he prefers being called Willy.

“Well I’m gonna get going to my room, it’s cold out here.” You let out a half hearted chuckle and turned to leave, wanting him to stop you so badly. “Good night wil-“

He grabbed your arm gently, as if he was broken from a trance. “Wait y/n.”

You turned your head, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “Yes?”

_______________

a/n; that’s part 1 guys 🙏🏼🙏🏼

I already have an idea in which part 2 will be posted so stay tuned! It’ll be soon :) 👐 thank you for reading!! Don’t forget to leave notes💞

#wonka #wonka imagine #willy wonka #willy wonka x reader #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #wonka 2023

[soberscientistlife]

On June 19, 1865, Union Army General Gordon Granger stood on a balcony in Galveston, Texas and read aloud General Order No. 3, informing the state's enslaved people that President Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation meant they were free. In the years since, Juneteenth has become an opportunity to remember all those who lived and died under the horrific system of slavery, honor everyone who helped end it, and celebrate the people and contributions of the African American community. It's more important than ever before that we all take some time to mark Juneteenth and reflect on the legacy of slavery in our country's history. We see markers of white supremacy around us every day. It's marching in our streets with torches and signs bearing hate speech, detaining innocent families in camps at the border, and enshrining prejudice in our laws by suppressing the votes of people of color. It's saying that it'll make America great again; great again for whom has always been clear from the context. So many Americans believe in racial justice, in equality, in our differences not just making us stronger but defining what it means to be American. Let's celebrate our victories and our black communities as we keep working for a more perfect union. Happy Juneteenth.

#juneteenth #black history

[robertreich]

Think Tipping Is Out of Control? Watch This.

TWO DOLLARS AND THIRTEEN CENTS AN HOUR.

That’s how much millions of American workers are paid under the federal subminimum wage — which was set all the way back in 1991.

While many think tipping for services has gotten out of control, arguing over who deserves a tip and how much they should get distracts from what we should really be angry about: business models that depend on not paying workers a living wage.

It’s bad enough that the federal minimum wage is a measly $7.25 an hour. But employers are allowed to pay tipped workers just $2.13 an hour because supposedly the workers will be able to make up for it in tips.

Saru Jayaraman of One Fair Wage has been advocating to change this absurd and exploitative law. I asked her to share with us FOUR big reasons why we need to get rid of the subminimum wage and pay service workers a full living wage with tips on top.

Number 1: Workers who earn a subminimum wage often end up making less than the minimum wage

43 states currently allow certain workers to be paid a subminimum wage. Employers in these states are legally required to make up the difference if a worker’s combined wage and tips don’t reach the full minimum wage. But over a third of tipped workers report that their bosses regularly fail to do this.

That’s because enforcement of wage laws is lax, and it makes it easier for employers to get away with shortchanging staff.

Number 2: The subminimum wage perpetuates gender discrimination and harassment on the job

More than two-thirds of tipped workers — 70% — in the U.S. are women. And one in six women that work a tipped job are living in poverty — that’s nearly 2.5 times the rate for workers overall.

Since workers earning the subminimum wage are so dependent on tips to make a living, they are put in situations where they have to tolerate inappropriate customer behavior. A staggering 76 percent — that’s more than three-quarters of tipped workers — have reported experiencing sexual harassment on the job. And that only got worse during the pandemic.

Number 3: Tipping is actually a relic of slavery

Tipped workers are disproportionately people of color. And Black service workers in particular consistently earn less, including tips, than their white counterparts for doing the same job.

Look, this inequity of the subminimum wage is tied to America’s history of structural racism.

Following the Civil War, tipping was used as a racist solution by employers who didn’t want to pay formerly enslaved Black workers. So by allowing them to pay their workers just in tips rather than a wage, employers were able to avoid directly paying these workers.

Number 4: Paying workers a living wage plus tips is actually better for business — and our economy.

Corporate lobbyists, particularly for the restaurant industry, warn that paying workers a full minimum wage with tips on top will be devastating to businesses. But research shows these fears are completely overblown.

So far, seven states have replaced their subminimum wage for tipped workers with a higher minimum wage that still allows for tips on top. These seven states are actually faring better than the 43 states with subminimum wages for tipped workers — both in the number of restaurants and number of people employed by restaurants. And take home pay for restaurant servers and bartenders in these states was 24% higher than in states with a wage of just $2.13 an hour.

Workers at restaurants that have scrapped their subminimum wages in favor of higher minimum wages with tips on top are more productive, happier, and less likely to quit their jobs. This alone helps business owners cut employee turnover nearly in half. This is especially important following the pandemic, when restaurants are facing historic staffing shortages because over 1 million workers have left the industry due to low pay.

So not only have higher wage states been able to maintain their industries, but workers are more productive, getting paid more, and less likely to live in poverty.  

And when workers have more money, they spend more money — stimulating their local economies in the process.

And for the first time in 30 years, workers are winning on this issue, like in DC and Chicago and a dozen other states.

The bottom line is that ending the subminimum wage for tipped workers is better for workers, it’s better for business, it’s better for our economy — and it’s the right thing to do.

#youtube #tipping #tips #viral #videos #video #minimum wage #economics

[thechanelmuse]

Juneteenth is a Black American holiday. 

We call Juneteenth many things: Black Independence Day, Freedom Day, Emancipation Day, Jubilee Day. We celebrate and honor our ancestors. 

December 31 is recognized as Watch Night or Freedom’s Eve in Black American churches because it marks the day our enslaved ancestors were awaiting news of their freedom going into 1863. On January 1, 1863, President Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. But all of the ancestors wouldn’t be freed until June 19, 1865 for those in Galveston, Texas and even January 23, 1866 for those in New Jersey (the last slave state). (It’s also worth noting that our people under the Choctaw and Chickasaw Nations wouldn’t be freed until April 28, 1866 and June 14, 1866 for those under the Cherokee Nation by way of the Treaties.)

Since 1866, Black Americans in Texas have been commemorating the emancipation of our people by way of reading the Emancipation Proclamation and coming together to have parades, free festivities, and later on pageants. Thereafter, it spread to select states as an annual day of commemoration of our people in our homeland. 

Here’s a short silent video filmed during the 1925 Juneteenth celebration in Beaumont, Texas:

(It’s also worth noting that the Mascogos tribe in Coahuila, Mexico celebrate Juneteenth over there as well. Quick history lesson: A total of 305,326 Africans were shipped to the US to be enslaved alongside of American Indians who were already or would become enslaved as prisoners of war, as well as those who stayed behind refusing to leave and walk the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma. In the United States, you were either enslaved under the English territories, the Dutch, the French, the Spanish, or under the Nations of what would called the Five “Civilized” Native American Tribes: Cherokee, Creek (Muscogee), Chickasaw, Choctaw, and Seminoles. Mascogos descend from the Seminoles who escaped slavery during the Seminole Wars, or the Gullah Wars that lasted for more than 100 years if you will, and then settled at El Nacimiento in 1852.)

We largely wave our red, white and blue flags on Juneteenth. These are the only colors that represent Juneteenth. But sometimes you may see others wave our Black American Heritage flag (red, black, and gold).

Juneteenth is a day of respect. It has nothing to do with Africa, diversity, inclusion, immigration, your Pan-African flag, your cashapps, nor your commerce businesses. It is not a day of “what about” isms. It is not a day to tap into your inner colonizer and attempt to wipe out our existence. That is ethnocide and anti-Black American. If you can’t attend a Black American (centered) event that’s filled with education on the day, our music, our food and other centered activities because it’s not centered around yours…that is a you problem. Respect our day for what and whom it stands for in our homeland. 

Juneteenth flag creator: “Boston Ben” Haith 

It was created in 1997. The red, white and blue colors represent the American flag. The five-point star represents the Lone State (Texas). The white burst around the star represents a nova, the beginning of a new star. The new beginning for Black Americans. 

Black American Heritage Flag creators: Melvin Charles & Gleason T. Jackson

It was created in 1967, our Civil Rights era. The color black represents the ethnic pride for who we are. Red represents the blood shed for freedom, equality, justice and human dignity. Gold fig wreath represents intellect, prosperity, and peace. The sword represents the strength and authority exhibited by a Black culture that made many contributions to the world in mathematics, art, medicine, and physical science, heralding the contributions that Black Americans would make in these and other fields. 

SN: While we’re talking about flags, I should note that Grace Wisher, a 13-year-old free Black girl from Baltimore helped stitched the Star Spangled flag, which would inspire the national anthem during her six years of service to Mary Pickersgill. I ain’t even gon hold you. I never looked too far into it, but she prob sewed that whole American flag her damn self. They love lying about history here until you start unearthing them old documents. 

In conclusion, Juneteenth is a Black American holiday. Respect us and our ancestors.

#juneteenth #juneteenth flag #black american history #black american culture #ben haith #black american heritage flag #melvin charles #gleason t jackson #grace wisher #american flag #mascogos #juneteenth 2023

[eternal-curse]

imagine if popular vampire media characters all had tumblr. that would be so hectic lol they’d have so much beef with each other

#this is about to be super out of character for all of them #but humor comes at a price

4 notes

👨🏻‍🦲 colin-robinson-69-420 Follow

Callout Post for @mag𝗂strate-murder (aka Astarion Ancunín)

@mag𝗂strate-murder (prev URL was @year-of-the-carr𝗂on-crow) has shown some absolutely vile, revolting, disgusting, toxic— sometimes downright evil— behavior on numerous (and lengthy!) occasions. This behavior has been repeated again and again. I would be willing to forgive and forget all of these things, IF they were first-time events or isolated incidents. They are NOT isolated incidents.

The list includes (but is not limited to):

Trying to attack his friends while they're peacefully slumbering.

The murder of countless (countless!) innocent people.

Theft. Maybe even robbery. Idfk.

Showing annoyance at the idea of saving entire groups of people from being enslaved or mass murdered. (These were two separate occasions... Yuck!)

I know I’m posting this at 8 o’cock, so many vampblr users may be currently asleep, but it’s my civic duty to provide information for the uh. The people at large. So there are more details, more moral crimes, and proof of all of the heinous actions this spawn has committed under the cut.

------------------------- read more -------------------------

🗡 magistrate-murder

I'm flattered. You just can't take me off of your mind, can you? Do you dream of me? I hope they're nightmares. 💕

🩸 blood-and-book-reviews Follow

I love how "theft" is directly between "killing innocent people" and "is chill with subjugation and mass murder"

🎸 the-vampire-queen

#did anyone else notice how they said 'moral crimes' #as if murder and theft and etc are legal? #lol? #weird... #<- prev's tags #my tags -> #YES OMG I NOTICED THAT TOO. #also what the eff? OP had to point out that astarion's a spawn? #why does it matter that he isn't a full vampire? #as someone who’s a vampire/demon hybrid that’s kind of a red flag to me :/ #ugh this is SO not math

12,987 notes

📚 j-harker

I’m missing @m𝗂ss-mina-murray. Currently out of the country for work.

💁🏼‍♀️ slayer-summers

Oh, I'm sorry :( At least the view is beautiful, where are you?

📚 j-harker

Transylvania. Why?

💁🏼‍♀️ slayer-summers

Get Out Of There Immediately Jonathan Harker Leave Get Out Now Get Out Go Leave Go Now

#buffy talks #slayer posting

548 notes

🎸 the-vampire-queen

I just learned about "vegan vampires." That's so stupid. Just eat the color red ???? It's NOT that hard

🎀 miss-draculaura

:(

🎸 the-vampire-queen

I'll make an exception for you

🎀 miss-draculaura

:)

1,600 notes

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

A preview of my upcoming book:

I am the vampire Lestat. I'm immortal. More or less. The light of the sun, the sustained heat of an intense fire-these things might destroy me. But then again, they might not.

I'm six feet tall, which was fairly impressive in the 1780s when I was a young mortal man. It's not bad now. I have thick blond hair, not quite shoulder length, and rather curly, which appears white under fluorescent light. My eyes are gray, but they absorb the colors blue or violet easily from surfaces around them. And I have a fairly short narrow nose, and a mouth that is well shaped but just a little too big for my face. It can look very mean, or extremely generous, my mouth. It always looks sensual. But emotions and attitudes are always reflected in my entire expression. I have a continuously animated face.

My vampire nature reveals itself in extremely white and highly reflective skin that has to be powdered down for cameras of any kind.

And if I'm starved for blood I look like a perfect horror- skin shrunken, veins like ropes over the contours of my bones. But I don't let that happen now. And the only consistent indi- cation that I am not human is my fingernails. It's the same with all vampires. Our fingernails look like glass. And some people notice that when they don't notice anything else.

Please, contain your excitement.

🐺 the-vampire-lestat

Who is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way?

💁🏼‍♀️ slayer-summers

Would you believe me if I told you we're still trying to figure that out?

#buffy talks #well ebony isn't real #but we still don't know who tara is

6,666 notes

🦇 cravensworth-king-of-bottoms

I've heard a rumor about this online webbed site; that is which it is filled to the brim with abstinants, celibates, and the like.

📸 liam-de-lioncunt Follow

Ugh... As much as I hate to use popular gifs, I feel compulsed to post this before anyone else does.

There. I did it first.

🦇 cravensworth-king-of-bottoms

Tonight, we FEAST. NYAH! HAH!

628 notes

🎸 the-vampire-queen

Just recorded this Mitski cover

6 notes

🧛🏻‍♂️ tepes-the-first

Why is it that when Gods demand blood, it's called a necessary sacrifice, but when I, Vlad Dracul,

💛 alucard

It's because you're evil.

🧛🏻‍♂️ tepes-the-first

For the last time, change your URL. Your name is Adrian.

📚 j-harker

I didn't know you had a son!

📚 j-harker

Wait, what was the original post about??

🧛🏻‍♂️ tepes-the-first

Don't worry about it.

📚 j-harker

Okay. :)

4,279 notes

💁🏼‍♀️ slayer-summers

I'm starting an emotional support group chat for slayers, does anyone want in?

💑 armand-de-la-cruz

Yes please!

⚔️ nandor-the-relentless-3

Guillermo?

⚔️ nandor-the-relentless-3

Why do you want to be in a vampire slayer group chat Guillermo??????

⚔️ nandor-the-relentless-3

Answer my texts Guillermo

63 notes

✨ edward-cullen Follow

My beautiful daughter. Looks just like her mother.

🍷 dimitrescu-winery

Get that wretched monstrosity of a child off of my screen.

🐈‍⬛ carmillas-admirer-sappho

wait, Ravioli is a real child? i thought she was just a photoshop meme of @the-vampire-lestat’s daughter Claudia?

6️⃣ vampire-count-er

What is the Vampblr number of the day? Let’s count the vampires of Tumblr above me in this post to find out!

Ah, that’s one vampire.

TWO! Two vampires!

THREE bloodsucking vampires! Ah ah ah!!

The number of the day is three!

7,012 notes

🐈‍⬛ carmillas-admirer-sappho

💀 real-carmilla

?

🐈‍⬛ carmillas-admirer-sappho

NO I TAKE IT BACK

CARMILLA I’M SORRY

🐈‍⬛ carmillas-admirer-sappho

BEGONE WHITE GIRL

🐈‍⬛ carmillas-admirer-sappho

please check your dms carmilla i sent you my address

1,982 notes

👨🏻‍🦲 colin-robinson-69-420 Sponsored by Blaze 🔥

The new The Vampire Lestat album sucks.

Get it? It sucks.

Because he’s a vampire.

It’s pretty funny, if you ask me.

#lestat de lioncourt #satan’s night out #the vampire lestat #vampblr #not a callout post

438 notes

🌙 werepire

Is no one going to talk about how problematic Marceline’s girlfriend is? Just because they’re both royalty doesn’t mean that Bonnibel can do whatever she wants with no repercussions.

I mean, here’s an article explaining all the horrible stuff she’s done [link]. Are we just going to pretend none of it happened?

👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 nadja-of-antipaxos

Hard agree. Down with the monarchies.

She can, however, do whatever she wants because she’s hot

#vampire #vampires #buffy the vampire slayer #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #colin robinson #laszlo cravensworth #guillermo de la cruz #nandor the relentless #buffy summers #jonathan harker #liam de lioncourt #lestat de lioncourt #marceline #marceline the vampire queen #dracula #draculaura #adrian tepes #alucard #castlevania #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #the vampire lestat #iwtv #interview with the vampire #dashboard simulator #the vampire chronicles #carmilla

[perseephoneee]

four times we almost kissed and the one time we did (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

warnings: slight blood sharing, mostly frusteration

a/n: unfortunately for my sanity, i have fallen in love with kol. why? i couldn't tell you. the actor drives me up a fucking wall. but the character? i am down for bad. so here ya go. feel free to request more kol or over tvdu characters!!

↳ masterlist ↳  want to be shipped with a fic character?

[1] First meeting

Magic has existed in New Orleans for as long as anyone can remember. The prevalence of voodoo-- NOLA's most giant "tourist trap"-- originated in 1791 with enslaved West Africans who moved to Louisiana to grow a community for as many free people of color. That spirit meant that many of its inhabitants descended from that original society or were drawn here for its magical properties. Your family was one of the latter, a bunch of witches seeking solace in a place that nurtured it. Except with magic came strife, and eventually, other creatures came knocking at the door. Enter the Mikaelsons, New Orlean's resident vampire family that was always at the center of whatever drama was happening. Right now, something involving all those magically oriented. 

You made it a point to stay clear of the fight. Not because you didn't care– you did– but because it wasn't your fight to be had. That's how you stayed alive in this neighborhood; you knew where to stick your nose and when to stay clear. Besides, all the commotion with one of the Harvest girls (Cassie, you believe her name was) and the witch's distaste of vampires meant tensions were high. You could help the community from the background anyway; you didn't need to make yourself known.

At least, that's what you hoped. But things rarely turned out how you wanted, and this was one of those times. Walking through the back streets of NOLA was never an excellent idea, but it was shorter, and you just wanted to get to the metaphysical supply store before it closed. You needed more laurel leaves to create protection charms around your house, especially with the uptake in strife in the recent year. 

Which is how you came upon a witch killing three vampires in the alley.

You wanted to turn on your heel and leave, but the witch noticed you before you could. You didn't recognize him, so you were unsure what coven he belonged to. He was tall enough to probably tower over you, with golden curly hair and a jaw sharp enough to cut your fingers if you touched it. He was unbelievably handsome, and you hated that it caught your breath.

"You shouldn't be here, luv," he crooned, his English accent thick. He sauntered down the alley, coming up to you with narrowed eyes. 

"I don't recognize you," you countered, shifting your weight as you crossed your arms. It's best not to let him know that you're flustered.

"New in town," he smiled, a cocky grin that told you that he absolutely knew the effect he had on women. It left a bad taste in your mouth. "New Orleans is a big city; I'm surprised you would know everyone."

"I know witches," you said, peering up at him. 

"Ah, are you a magical thing yourself?"

"What do you think?" You arched a brow. He stepped closer, reaching up to twirl a piece of your hair around his finger. You recoiled slightly but didn't pull back. Never show fear; that's one thing this town taught you. 

"I think you're a pretty young thing," he hummed. "I'm Kol." He peered at you as if waiting for you to offer your name. You didn't. 

"Not interested," you pulled back from him, letting the hair he had touched fall back in front of your face. He stepped back into your space.

"I don't know, darling," he smiled, leaning closer so his breath fanned your face. It was minty like he had just had an Altoid. "I think you're interested." You hated admitting that this tall, handsome stranger (such a cliche) was right. And you really hated that if you leaned up slightly, you could feel the warmth from his lips. He stepped back, though, hands in his pockets. The same hands that had used magic to wrangle the undead life of the vampires behind him. You took that as a sign to start to leave, walking backward before turning on your heel and ignoring the gaze of the witch behind you. 

"Never got your name!" He chimed. You smiled to yourself.

"Figure it out yourself."

[2] Cemetery watch

Disgruntled. That's how you felt. Chaos had grown over the past weeks, but you didn't see Kol again. A sliver of disappointment, as you did find him cute, but also a relief. You know enough flirtatious bastards to not want to add more to your life.

You weren't thinking about him today, though. You were thinking about your grandmother, who lived in the cemetery right outside your block. A popular cemetery for Wiccan rituals, it made sense for your grandma (the high priestess of your family) to be buried there with heavy praise. 

You were laying a combination of roses, lavender, and rosemary for protection when the hair on your neck stood up. Feeling a presence, you soon turn around, making eye contact with the stranger who approached you. 

Definitely not a witch; his aura was too dark for that. He was tall, with tousled brown hair and eyes that lingered on you for far too long. He was cute, though, even if he was dangerous.

"Hello darling," he purrs, stalking closer. 

"Can I help you?" You sigh, crossing your arms as you peer at him with suspicion. He wears a cocky smile and a look that tells you he would love to have a taste.

"Don't remember me? I'm hurt," he puts a hand on his chest, feigning pain. You look at him closely, but the only recognition is in the pet name. Darling. Not many people called you darling. 

"Kol," you said. "You're shorter." His face had a hint of shock before settling into amusement. 

"That was uncalled for," he laughed, walking closer to you. In closer proximity, you could see that he was, in fact, very handsome, and he was definitely aware of that. 

"I'm reiterating my previous question, can I help you?"

"When my family sent me on this mission to track down the 'wisest witch in the quarter,' I was not expecting you," he looked down at you with gold-flecked eyes. "The beautiful girl who wouldn't give me her name. Except now I know it's Y/N."

"I thought you were a witch," you took a hesitant step back, trying to create space. 

"Temporarily," he sighed. "Now I'm back in my original form of vampire." The way he said it gave you pause, as if he was resigned to the fact but not happy about it. You could relate. If you lost your magic, you would be devastated. 

"You said something about your family?" you coughed, changing the subject. 

"There's someone working against them, and we would prefer if they don't kill us," Kol shoved his hands in his pockets, looking up at the clouds above. "People tend to hate us, Mikaelsons."

"You're a Mikaelson?" you hissed. It was because of the Mikaelsons your home was in constant disaster. "Why should I help you? Any of you?"

"For the most part, we don't want to cause trouble. It just tends to find us. Helping eliminate a threat means fewer problems in the quarter," Kol sighed, stepping closer. His fingers brushed your cheek, delicate as if touching the grass in a meadow. "Also, you'd get to spend time with me."

"Why would I want to spend time with you?" you breathed, voice wavering slightly. Curse your damn hormones for being swayed by a vampire of all creatures. His thumb came under your chin, allowing him to bring your face closer to his. Kol smelled like fresh snow and evergreens, and you knew that if he leaned a little bit closer, you wouldn't stop him. In the process, likely offend the ghost of your grandmother who was probably rolling her eyes at you right now. Before you could offend all the ancestors with your choices, Kol stepped back, resuming his cocky grin and leaving your breath lodged in your throat. Without a second thought of the implications, you made your decision.

"Fine, I'll help you."

[3] Late night spell-casting

Late nights in the Mikaelson compound meant one thing. Coffee, and lots of it. 

You made a deal with the Mikaelsons after you agreed to help them that in exchange for your time, they had to buy you cafe drinks whenever you liked it. Elijah was the most taken aback, but Kol chuckled as if he found you amusing. Still, they found it a small price, not expecting how much you valued your drinks. Most nights, it was coffee, sometimes tea, or even hot cocoa. Quite honestly, you just liked having the power to make them run around. 

You sat at one of their many couches, a book of shadows in your lap and a notepad in your hands as you made quick notes about possible spells that could combat the evil at hand. A couple of ideas swam in your head, but you wanted to exhaust your options before risking anyone else's life with a botched spell. Still, you had been at it for hours and started getting sleepy. You yawned, feeling your eyes close slightly. Thankfully, footsteps alerting you to the presence of one of the originals had you sitting up and shaking off your fatigue. Unfortunately, that original was Kol with your coffee order. 

Kol was precisely what you thought he would be. Flirtatious, cocky, impulsive, and too attractive for his own good. You hated when murderers were cute; it made life confusing. There were moments, though, when the two of you were performing recon or pouring over spell books that you saw a side of him that only showed when his guard wasn't up. He was calmer, more academic, and a lot more unsure of himself. The only thing you hated about seeing that side is it made you like him more. 

"How's my witchling doing?" he chimed, dropping off your coffee and settling beside you on the couch. You told him that being called darling felt ridiculous, so instead, he found a new nickname, which was even worse. 

"The usual, I suppose," you yawned again, leaning your head against the back of the couch. 

"Take a break."

"You realize it's your life on the line, right?" you huffed, turning to look at him. 

"My life will always be in danger, Y/N," Kol hummed, taking your books out of your lap with a minor protest from you. "That's not going to change tonight."

"Don't underestimate me," you grabbed your cup, taking a deep sip and looking at him over the lid. 

"I would never underestimate you," he grabbed your coffee and stole a sip himself, earning a growl from you. "Half the things you say shock and confuse me."

"It's my charm."

"Let's do something fun," Kol stood up, trying to drag you with him. "Research is bloody boring."

"We have two very different ideas of 'fun,' Mikaelson," you curled up into a ball on the couch, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. An idea sparked in your head, and you turned a devilish smile to the brunette. "How about tarot cards?"

You found an old deck in the compound, creating a space on the table in the central area to lay out the spread. Even though having your cards would be better, you thought you could probably make do with these. You gave Kol the cards to shuffle and watched as he spent meticulous time connecting with the cards before handing the deck back to you. You started laying out the cards on the table, forming a cross with four cards separate on the side. You tucked your legs underneath you, curling up on the floor so you were huddled by the table. Kol joined you, his back against the couch as he peered at you straightening up the cards. 

"You realize you're going to flip them over, right?"

"Shut up, Mikaelson," you chimed, finishing your organization. He watched you with a small smile, and you made the effort to ignore his stare. "We'll start with your Present card."

“Boring,” Kol sing-songed. "Tell me my future."

"I have to go in order, to give an accurate reading."

"Darling, the cards are already laid out; you can do whatever you want," Kol leaned closer to you, squinting his eyes in amusement. "I live my life in futures; who cares about the past?"

Sighing, you decided to obey the nosey vampire and flip over his cards for Future and Near Future. The two cards revealed were the Lovers and Ace of Cups, respectively. 

"In your Future is a strong romantic relationship," you start, pointing out the Lovers card featuring two swans intertwined. "This correlates to the Ace of Cups, which signifies new beginnings. Since the Ace of Cups is in your near future, you'll likely encounter someone you'll soon develop a deep, long-lasting relationship with." You turn your eyes to Kol, raising an eyebrow. "Shocking, considering your personality."

"It's not that shocking," Kol quipped, leaning closer to you. "We're here, aren't we?"

His pupils were enlarged as he gazed upon you, and his glance to your lips told you exactly where his mind was. You couldn't deny you weren't thinking the same thing. It didn't help that Kol was dangerous in an enticing way. Ignoring all rational thought, you leaned in closer, nudging his nose with yours. Your heart was beating erratically, and you heard the sharp intake of breath he took. His fingers traced up your arm, each finger leaving goosebumps in their wake. What were you doing?

"How's the research going?" a voice called from the hallway. You scooted away immediately, but Kol stayed where he was. His jaw clenched as he suppressed a growl. Freya appeared, not aware of the situation and probably not caring anyway. 

"I have a few ideas," you coughed, taking a deep breath to calm your beating heart. 

"Great, I'd love to hear them so I can stop having stressful dreams," Freya chuckled, moving over to the couch. You sent Kol a glance as you passed your journal to Freya. The look he gave you told you that what started wasn't over. And the worst part was you didn't want it to be over. 

[4] Injured after a fight

A headache. That's what you were nursing. 

A sharp ringing pierced through your ears, the lights above you blurring into a bad abstract painting. A figure appeared above you, and you slowly registered that it was calling your name. You squinted your eyes, the action causing a splitting pain as the shape of Kol formed in front of you. Worry creased his brows, and blood splattered his face. 

"Y/N, Y/N, can you hear me?" Kol asked, cradling your head. You nodded, grabbing his arms to help pull yourself up. Chaos was erupting around you, and the stifling smell of magic was enough to knock you out again. That's what had happened. It was an ambush, and despite your abilities, you were blasted back into a wall, probably with a concussion and broken bones. It was times like this when you were envious of a vampire's healing skills. "I need to get you out of here."

"They need our help," you grimaced, catching Klaus ripping off someone's arms in the background. Kol caught your gaze and bothered with a slight smirk. 

"I'm sure Nik is fully capable of handling himself. Plus, my other siblings are here, and Freya called Vincent. They won't miss us."

"I'll be fine," you tried to say, but it ended in a wheeze as the effort of sitting up caused pain in your lungs. 

"You will not. Can you stand?" Kol watched you struggle for a second before picking you up. In a normal situation, you would've complained, but considering all you felt was ow ow ow ow ow you thought better than to complain. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he sped out of the scene and back to the compound. Kol laid you gently on the couch, kneeling before you, biting into his wrist and holding it to your lips. "You need to drink."

"I don't want to be a vampire," you mumbled, brushing a hand across your forehead. Your fingers held blood on them, and you became dizzy with that knowledge.

"I won't let that happen now, drink," Kol insisted, his voice having a hard edge. Considering he was a stubborn bastard, you relented. You hesitantly grabbed his wrist and brought it up to your mouth. The blood slid down your throat cleanly, but you had to suppress the urge to gag anyway since it was blood. You felt your bones click into place, and your headache dull to a memory. You finally looked up, catching Kol's gaze on you. How was it intensely erotic to have someone watch you drink their blood? There must be therapy for issues like this, but you didn't really care. How he looked at you was akin to a predator waiting to devour its next meal. You knew if you let him, he would fulfill every potential vampire fantasy one could have. He touched your cheek, touching your lips where his blood was just a second ago. He pulled away, red coating his fingers, and you suppressed a groan when he sucked the leftover blood. 

"Kol," you whispered, your voice raspy. He sat up at eye level, leaning down as if to kiss you. Of course, things weren't that easy, as his family burst into the compound right at that moment. You wanted to let out a scream of frustration but ended up being caught off guard by Klaus dropping a head by the entryway. 

"Glad to see our little witch is okay," Klaus chimed, looking pretty proud of himself. If Kol were a cartoon character, he'd blow smoke out of his ears. 

"I'm alive," you sighed. Klaus walked over, ignoring his brother's glares, and patted you on the shoulder. That was the closest thing to the affection you were getting from the hybrid. As the rest of the family delved into a conversation about the ambush, you finally got up and looked at the original kneeling on the ground before you. "We'll finish this later," you smiled, pretending to ignore the slight growl that left Kol's mouth as you walked off. 

[5] Evil has passed

"I thought you would've left."

Kol stood in the entryway of his bedroom at the Mikaelson home while you stood (guilty) by his bookshelf. 

"I was returning this book I borrowed from you," you said innocently. Putting the book back on the shelf, you turned to the man before you, trying his best to plaster on a convincing smile. The threat has passed, your job was over, and yet you were melancholy. These people had caused problems throughout your home since they arrived, yet your temporary alliance ending was something of sadness. You were tired of pretending it was for any reason other than Kol. Kol started as an annoying individual who sought to drive you up the wall, but now was someone you saw a kinship with. Your long talks on history and adventures across the globe were moments where you saw his guard fall, and you loved every second of it. It helped that he was pretty to look at. 

"I guess this means goodbye then, doesn't it witchling?" Kol sighed, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. You could swear he sounded disappointed, but you didn't want to get your hopes up. 

"Depends," you crossed your arms. "I could be persuaded to come back."

"Persuaded?" Kol inquired, that mischievous glint in his eyes telling you he would ensure a way to keep you around. "Any particular reason?"

"If someone wanted me around, I guess," you smiled, a tiny grin but good enough for Kol to stroll towards you until he towered over your figure. 

"I'll give you a good reason," Kol murmured, a devilish smirk on his lips. "Something that we kept getting interrupted for in the past." He cupped your face in his hands, lowering his lips so they were a hairsbreadth from yours. 

"Don't be a tease," you breathed. Letting out a dark chuckle, he pressed his lips to yours. It was surprisingly light, not hungry like his usual personality. He tasted like a fresh snowstorm and an evergreen forest, and you know you could get drunk on that alone. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you brought him closer to you, deepening the kiss and earning a light groan from the vampire. Kol's hands tangled in your hair, one of them going to hold your waist. Every touch of his was coldfire, and you were so glad that you were finally alone to burn in him. He tilted your head back, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your throat that caused you let out a moan. He nipped the junction of your neck and shoulder, kissing over it until he was back at your lips again, leaving a searing kiss. Kol pulled away, glancing at you with eyes abysmal. "What took you so long to do that?" you breathed, a grin covering your face as Kol laughed, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

"You're all mine now," Kol smiled, kissing you again. "Always and forever."

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson #freya mikaelson #the originals #vampire diaries #tvd #tvdu #tvdu imagines #mikaelson #mikaelson family #my writing

[meddling-in-horror]

Giving Them the Moment: How Our Flag Means Death and it's Portrayal of Black Men is the Most Important Thing on Television Right Now

Note: written April 20, 2022

Media is an incredibly distinct way of communicating. It has a wide reach, and each person has their own interpretation of what they see. That’s the beauty of the medium as a whole. However, there are often downsides, especially when it pertains to the West. In the US in particular, there is a trend within popular media to lean towards propagandization. Whether it’s the idea that communism and socialism are products of the ‘Evil East’ or the lingering effects of the Motion Picture Production Code - also known as the Hays Code, the media monopolies have a firm grasp on what we as a society watch and enjoy. 

When you begin to play close attention to how the media portrays Black men, this becomes abundantly clear.

It is a rare thing when we see Black men whose characters aren’t portrayed as being the object nor the perpetrators of violence. In fact, only one mainstream popular show comes to mind: The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. But even then, the given circumstances of Fresh Prince revolve around Will’s escape from the violence of the ‘urban’ inner city. This vilification of Black men dates back to the 1910s with D. W. Griffith’s Birth of a Nation, and continued into the 1930s, where Black people were often personified as the monsters, representing the ‘exciticism’ of the world beyond the West. It is the ‘exoticism’ that has played a huge part in the dehumanization of Black men as a whole. But as a Black Queer person watching Our Flag Means Death, it is breaking that mold in an incredibly important way.

The Black men in the show are allowed to have fun.

This show is breaking barriers left and right. Of the major recurring cast of 15, over half of them are people of color. It’s overt and unflinching portrayal of Queerness when so many of its older viewers - myself included - have lived through the Bury Your Gays and Dead Lesbians tropes time and time again is overwhelmingly refreshing. Nearly all characters are Queer until proven straight and represent all parts under the umbrella, including Leslie Jones’ polyamorous pirate queen and Vico Ortiz - a non-binary actor - playing a non-binary character. 

But in a world where the narratives of Black men are so often framed around violence and brutality, the Black crewmates of the Queen Anne’s Revenge - Frenchie, Oluwande, and Roach - are allowed to be funny and vulnerable. Each one of them is starkly different from the other with identifiable characteristics that allow the audience to humanize them. The trio quickly became my favorites among the crew, with Roach being the stand-out amongst them. Samba Schutte’s often deadpan delivery never fails to draw a laugh from me, in particular the assertion that “meat is meat”. Frenchie, played by Joel Fry, is the quickest on the draw where his intellect is concerned, being posited in the show’s fifth episode as having had a hand in inventing the pyramid scheme while spouting the wildest of conspiracy theories and being afraid of cats (they’re witches, they steal your breath, and have knives in their feet, you know). The softness and constant vulnerability of Samson Kayo’s Oluwande may be one of the most important aspects of the show, as it establishes him as a reliable and trustworthy confidante to not just Jim, but to Rhys Darby’s Stede Bonnet as well.

They exist in their own separate spheres on the ship, going about their own separate business completely unbothered. While it is implied they lead violent lives as pirates, this violence isn’t used to define them as characters. In fact, Oluwande stated that both he and Jim engaged in piracy because they “had no choice”. The brief mention we get of Frenchie’s backstory implies that he lives a life of servitude, though whether that was as an enslaved person or a freed Black domestic worker is not mentioned. While there is little known about Roach so far, it is implied that his culinary skills are far beyond the levels of what is needed aboard a pirate ship.

The friendships and relationships they form within the crew aren’t built on violence either, but on open and honest communication. Most notably, the friendship of Frenchie and Wee John Feeny, played by Kristian Nairn. Fry and Nairn are an impeccable comic duo when their characters become ‘room people’, and the scene where they begin to design their new space is a personal highlight of the episode. Oluwande and Jim’s romance - played to perfection by Kayo and Ortiz - is one that revolves around both characters being almost devastatingly open with each other. Both actors play the emotional vulnerability of the characters well, and it is important to emphasize that it is Kayo’s Oluwande that moves to meet Jim where they are. 

While the show allows all its men to show varying levels of emotional vulnerability - an exception being offered to the emotionally constipated Izzy Hands, played by Con O’Neill - there is something so special about seeing that luxury afforded to Black men. This show has, in just ten episodes, has become a game changer for the television industry. It has proved that a show with explicitly Queer characters can become a massive sleeper hit, and that sometimes the best kind of historical show is one that is historical fiction. But it has also proved that you can create a narrative with Black men that doesn’t include their stories being framed in violence or brutality, that they can be funny, charming, witty, vulnerable, intelligent, complex characters with their own narratives that serve a purpose outside of a device of exoticism. It is this rare thing that makes these characters, and indeed the show as a whole, so important to its viewers. 

We deserve more vulnerability, more humor, and more humanizing content from these three men, and this show is one that is truly deserving of a glorious second season.

Sources:

Donaldson, Leigh. “When the media misrepresents Black men, the effects are felt in the real world.” 

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/aug/12/media-misrepresents-black-men-effects-felt-real-world.

Kumah-Abiwu, Felix. “Media Gatekeeping and Portrayal of Black Men in America.” 

Opportunity Agenda. “Media Portrayals and Black Male Outcomes.” 

https://www.opportunityagenda.org/explore/resources-publications/media-representation-impact-black-men/media-portrayals.

Our Flag Means Death, (2022-). HBO Max.

#not horror but its relevant #our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #roach #frenchie #oluwande boodhari #david jenkins #black men in media #let black men be silly in things!!!!!! #our flag means death season 2