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tanasha · 54 minutes ago
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Part two of my She-Ra Villain images inspired by 1984 quotes and this one is “Freedom is Slavery” for Light Hope. Adora finally thinks she’s escaped being Gaslighted and coerced by leaving the Horde (and by extension Catra), only to find her alleged freedom put her in exactly the same situation but as Light Hope’s puppet instead of Shadow Weaver’s. 
For part 1 please click here 
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cinaja · an hour ago
Before the Wall snippet
Zeku turns around to finally look at her, eyes dark. His long, fanned ears vibrate slightly. “Don’t twist this around to make it my fault,” he says, tone growing tense. “I warned you. I warned you again and again, but you wouldn’t listen.” He glares at her. “No, you just had to keep playing leader of the Alliance. You married your way into Continental royalty. You decided to duel Artax and blew up a mountain range in the process, showing to the entire world just what you are capable of.” He gives her dress a pointed look, but doesn’t comment further on it. “With everything you did, you cemented your position as the future leader of the Continent further – declared that you wanted this position. And so with everything you did, you became a bigger threat to your allies. A threat they won’t stand for forever.”
Miryam realizes she began to shake her head slightly and stops. She glances down at herself, at that damn red embroidery, a symbol that will be taken the wrong way by the entire Fae half of the Continental royalty. She should have gone for a different dress. She should have kept herself in check during that duel. Blowing up mountain ranges and declaring that she wants vengeance for Jurian’s death for all the world to see might be what she wants, but it certainly doesn’t fit with the image she needs to portray.
She didn’t think. Didn’t think at all in the last weeks, it seems, and now, it’s going to cost her.
“Everything I did,” Miryam says slowly, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice, “I did to free my people. You think I am doing any of this for power, for my own gain? All I want, all I ever wanted, is for my people to be free and for this horror to finally end. What do I care who leads the Continent?”
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bacchilles · 2 hours ago
some people in my roommate’s class were apparently making fun of this guy who’s doing a gladiator story for his final writing project because the guy mentioned how Roman slavery wasn’t based on race and they were all like “noooo it TOTALLY was he probably just watched I, Claudius one time and called it a day lmao i took an ancient history class once i know im right” and im just like . ben affleck smoking.jpg
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redstainedsocks · 2 hours ago
Plant Day!
Whumpblr, forgive me for this... xD this is either the best or silliest idea I've ever had and honestly? I think it might be both at once. Heed the tags but also just know nothing is as serious as it seems by the time you reach the end...
for @brutal-nemesis' whump of the month prompt: plant day.
Thank you @muddy-swamp-bitch for helping me work out how to tag this thing
Warnings: cutting, knives, scarification, body horror (???), corpse mutilation [!?], environmental whump, [mass] killing (???), multiple whumpers (but not at the same time), survivors guilt, curses, magical whump, whumpee with she/her pronouns, captured whumpee. Mentions of: eye whump, bugs/insects, slavery whump
The knife wasn’t sharp enough, not for this. It was a hack job, and it wasn’t going to heal pretty. It carved into her slowly, inch by torturous inch, scraping away the surface of her skin. She screamed, but no one seemed to care, it wasn’t like they spoke the same language.
The two people leaning over, peering at her, paused in their work.
I hope crows peck out your eyes
They talked and brushed away the carnage their knife wrought, tittered, went back to their work.
I hope your children never know love, or freedom
It hurt, digging deep into the fibres of her skin. Changing the surface of it forever. It was going to scar, these strange, crude letters forever marring her perfect form.
It was no worse than anything else she had suffered but she resented it all the same.
May bear excrement ruin your water source and wasps sting you to death
Her cries went unheard. And curses didn’t mean a wad of shit if no one observed them. She liked that word shit, she’d learned it from the humans long ago. Shit shit shit, it was all shit.
Long ago, in the days before, she had watched her people be slaughtered. Hacked down one by one, cut to pieces and their bodies heaved off by horses. Horses bound to do the humans bidding, such a wretched life, she thought, but they seemed happy, they hadn’t come to her aid when she called.
She had mourned and grieved her fallen brethren, watched their lifeless forms be stacked and chained together to be burned or put to some other nefarious use, and only hoped that her own pain would end so swiftly. But it was not to be. She had been left to witness, the pain hers alone to bear.
Long, long years passed, held captive in this barren, dying place. The colonies that tried to take up life in her people’s old home were uprooted, shunned. Nothing and no one could prosper here.
She waited a long time; long after the woodcutter, and the woodcutter's son, and the woodcutter’s son’s son…. and, well, she lost track of the generations a bit after that but it had been a while.
The sun was older, the earth quieter. She was cold, her joints creaked and ached and everything was heavy. She had been abandoned by her own people and the humans who had caused their destruction. She alone, left to weather the harsh… weather. Lashed with rain and beaten by the hot sun, no friends left to help give shelter. No happy little breeze now, just the violent waves of wind, unhindered.
Her eyes were cast ever skyward, and it hurt to look at the sky, but it was better than the memories that clung to the earth. She would weep, but it only made her feel sticky and sickly.
One day a mere mortal, not more than three score years and probably not even that—she noted his features were smooth and bare, no whiskers on this one— wandered by. He was dressed strangely but everything they did was strange so she didn’t pay it much attention. He laid a hand on her and she tried to shake it loose.
Stupid humans, no touching, dirty hands, ruinous hands
“What was that?” He murmured.
She thought he was a he, he had that air about him. Entitled. An extra trunk between his legs too, if her eyes weren’t mistaken.
Go back to your cities, cretin
His hand slid around her, feeling for… something. It brushed over the scar of the initials carved into her, that claiming mark.
“Tsk, this won’t do.”
He brought out a knife. Of course he did. Just like all the rest.
He cut into her and she wailed, throwing herself around and trying to get away but it was no use. He just kept on cutting, and though his work seemed like it had a purpose she couldn’t tell what it was. Her life force oozed out around the hole he was making as he cut chunks, stole away parts of her, until a hollow hole was left where part of her should be.
It felt… if not better, certainly different. They were good at change, these humans. She looked skyward again, only feeling a little better when she noticed the scarring marks were gone. He’d cut it away?
Well, more power to him, if he wanted a piece of ruined flesh so be it. She thought no more of it until he came back three moons later and talked to her again.
“I know what you are.”
Oh goodie, someone with some brains for once. Very pleased to meet you I’m sure
“I can hear you, you know.”
I doubt it
“I wouldn’t, if I were you. I know your secret, hiding in plain sight. But you can’t hide from me.”
She stayed silent, thinking, considering. If he was telling the truth…
“You’re no tree,” he murmured, stroking at her with his silly little furless paws. “You’re a wood nymph.”
“No, I said nymph.”
And you are a wizard, what do you want a pat on the back?
“No, just a conversation.”
She was taken aback, she hadn’t talked to anyone for years.
“You must be lonely.”
“You’re very grumpy.”
I’ve been stuck in a tree for near three hundred years, you would be too
“There’s not enough magic left for you to get out.”
Congratulations on stating the obvious but there is nowhere I could go anyway
“I have somewhere.” He produced a small box from his pack and her heart—woody though it was—faltered. That was—
“Yes I made this from you.”
“Come now, it won’t be so bad. I have a wonderful collection of items, and creatures, you won’t be lonely.”
I won’t be free
“You’re not free now.”
I won’t go
“Oh yes you will.” He opened the lid of the box, ornately carved and beautifully made but still the desecrated corpse of part of her flesh. Disgusting, sickening. Very pretty but so macabre.
It was powerful magic, runes and other things that should be of no consequence but she was too weak to resist and had been for too long. She screamed, waved her branches, reached for the sky but no great eagle or eager buzzard came to her rescue as she was pulled down, down down into the tiny wooden prison made from her own bones.
“That wasn’t so bad was it?” He asked as he snapped the lid tightly shut.
The box rattled with the force of her rage but he wrapped it in cloth and she felt the slide of ropes twinning tightly about her. It was strange, feeling part of herself outside of herself, when it shouldn’t have been part of herself any longer. I was dark and cool inside the box, but that was about the only good thing she could say about it.
Let me out
He slipped her into his satchel, and she bounced and shook as he walked further and further away from her home.
Curse you
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. But no, you will be a blessing. A boon to long life, nymphs, if the books are correct. We’ll be happy together.”
I doubt it. Ridiculous boy with your toys and tools, I could never be happy with you
“Hush now, tree, or I’ll leave you in that box forever.”
Shoddy craftsmanship, you should be ashamed
He laughed. “At least I know you’re not going to sulk silently like some of my prizes. No, you’ll be more entertaining.”
She went silent, just to make a point.
“If you’re very good, maybe one day I’ll work out how to re-plant you and you can feel the mud between your toes again. Wouldn’t that be nice? A little glade, lots of life around you, plenty of growing things to watch over.”
She perked up at that, suddenly feeling… was that what hope had felt like? It had been a few decades since she’d last let herself feel it.
“See, I told you. Your old tree may wither and die without you, but you can be new and fresh as a spring bud. As long as you do what you can for me.”
So that was that, she was to be a slave? No worse than she deserved, after watching her people be killed and not able to do anything to stop it. Finally her long awaited fate had caught up to her, it was about time.
Do you have what the humans call television?
“Yes, why?”
I’ve wanted to see what it is, can’t I be curious?
“Well you won’t have eyes for a good long while until I know you can behave, but we could start with some music.”
Nature makes the best music
“You haven’t heard rock’n’roll, just wait.”
[My thought process for writing this was: hmm, plant day. Plant whump... what if... the plant was the thing that was whumped. Hahah, nah... unless 👀?
And I thought about that for like three weeks before finally churning out 1k the night before the event. Sexily unedited, just the raw chaos]
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By Stephen Millies 
Whenever the cops kill somebody, you can count on two things: 1) Fox News and other Trump supporters will smear the victim, and 2) the TV networks and newspapers will focus on “looting,” almost drowning out the murder of a human being by police.
Isn’t this what happened after 20-year-old Black man Daunte Wright was shot to death for having an air freshener in his car? Media coverage splurged on people taking stuff from stores in Brooklyn Park, Minn., just outside Minneapolis.
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copiosis · 3 hours ago
We Love It When One Person Sees A Better Future
We Love It When One Person Sees A Better Future. When just one person sees potential for a better world, that better world becomes more real as our future. @freeworlder gets it and we love him for it.
We have Colin R. Turner’s passion. A staunch advocate for a freer world, Colin, since as far back as we can remember shares insights and information about the better world we all expect., his long-running initiative to create the world he believes is possible, recently celebrated over 800 unique offers in their new economic…
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popo1720 · 4 hours ago
Black History Forotten! The Media Is...
Black History Forotten! The Media Is…
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salt-sass-and-lyrium · 5 hours ago
Just had this absolute GEM of an exchange
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$20 bones say they reply back with some “well if you don’t understand then you’re the dumb one!!!” line
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thejewofkansas · 5 hours ago
The Weekly Gravy #36
The Weekly Gravy #36
Another week, another batch of newer films to catch up on. As of this writing I just need to see one more Visual Effects nominee and two more Original Song nominees and I’ll have at least seen all the Oscar nominees in categories I give out (and, as a reminder, I’m announcing my own awards the week after the Oscars). More significantly, this is the 900th post on this blog. Odds are I’ll reach…
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todaysdocument · 6 hours ago
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Bill of Lading documenting the shipment of nine enslaved people from Boston to New Orleans: William, Levi, Isaac, Garrison, Jim Jeffrey, Louisa, Gabriel, Tom Harrod, and Harry Bell, 4/19/1826
File Unit: Petition of Thomas Ross, Agent and Attorney of Joseph B. Woolfolk, 1790 - 1917
Series: Case Files, 1790 - 1917
Record Group 21: Records of District Courts of the United States, 1685 - 2009
SHIPPED in good order and well conditioned, by Joseph B. Woolfolk in and on board the good Schooner called the Decatur
whereof is Master, for this present voyage, Walter R. Galloway, now riding at anchor in the Harbor of Boston, and bound for
New Orleans --To say,
Nine Negro Slaves, mentioned in the Margin hereof & particularly described in the Clearance at the Custom house,
being marked and numbered as in the margin, and are to be delivered in like good order, and well conditioned, at aforesaid
Port of New Orleans (the danger of the Seas only excepted;) unto Mr. Saml. M. Woolfolk or to his Assigns, he or they
paying for passage of said Slaves one hundred & eighty Dollars payable in New Orleans.
IN WITNESS WHEREOF, the Master of the said Schooner hath affirmed to four Bills of Lading, of this tenor and date;
one of which Bills being accomplished, the other three to stand void.
Dated, Balto 19th April 1826
Walter R. Galloway
Sold by B. Loring, 122 State Street.
[printer of form]
Jim Jeffrey-------------21-----------------------20
Tom Harrod------------27-----------------------20
Harry Bell---------------36-----------------------20
A true Copy Attest [illegible Jno W] Davis, Clerk
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kdmiller55 · 7 hours ago
The Light On the Horizon
The Light On the Horizon
22 And over the people who remained in the land of Judah, whom Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon had left, he appointed Gedaliah the son of Ahikam, son of Shaphan, governor. 23 Now when all the captains and their men heard that the king of Babylon had appointed Gedaliah governor, they came with their men to Gedaliah at Mizpah, namely, Ishmael the son of Nethaniah, and Johanan the son of Kareah, and…
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landosous-blog-blog · 10 hours ago
TSUS | TABACCO | #inshot #tabacco #the #book #American #slavery #american #freedom #the #making #of #NIPSEY #HUSSLE #and #the #ghetto #ECONOMIC #trap #the #magnitude #of #what #nipsey #stood #for #most #remember
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wanyinchen · 11 hours ago
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Team Big-guns; Team We’ll-throw-you-to-the-wall; Team Catch-these-hands-and-these-knives; Team Best-Found-Family; Team Bandages; TEAM ABSOLUTE TAIJUTSU MONSTERS.
 Neji never died pfft what are y’all crying about lmao who this is this canon bitch lmao, I don’t know her
Gai-dad-sensei is in the foreground, crying his holy tears of pride and love <3
@nyd-needs-cuddles  I am so sorry for not noticing your ask, and in extension, my inbox since I mostly use my crappy phone sorrryy (╥_╥) please accept this sketch as an apology  (シ_ _)シ
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ablackcloud · 11 hours ago
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landosous-blog-blog · 12 hours ago
TSUS | THE BOOK | AMERICAN SLAVERY AMERICAN FREEDOM | #inshot #the #book #American #slavery #american #freedom #the #making #of #NIPSEY #HUSSLE #and #the #ghetto #ECONOMIC #trap #the #magnitude #of #what #nipsey #stood #for #most #remember
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goddessannaah · 12 hours ago
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