#slavery tw

[nerdpoe]

Government Dog AU

The US Government has a very strong, very unknown meta that they use to threaten the Justice League when they feel the Justice League goes too far.

He is rarely brought out, he's taller than Superman, and every time the League thinks they know what he can do, they're surprised by more.

He's got white hair, green eyes, and can literally possess any leaguer and force them to do what the government said anyways.

They suspect something is off, but any attempts to reason with the meta are rebuffed with a punch.

Impulse sees him once, and while he hovers behind the General threatening Superman, Impulse zeroes in on one thing.

That meta is wearing a collar. It's well disguised, but that's a collar. He'd recognize one anywhere, being as recognizing one meant surviving in the Future.

He glances at Red Robin.

Red Robin nods subtly back.

Impulse launches forward and attaches himself to the big, scary meta's front.

The meta's hands dart out to grab him, and Impulse dodges, tricking the meta into crushing his own collar.

Everyone goes quiet.

The meta holds the crumpled collar in his hands.

"...I'm...free?"

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #government dog au #danny them proceeds to hug impulse #make the general piss himself #though that was unintentional #and absolutely decimate the military base keeping Vlad and Ellie #mind control collars are a bitch #slavery tw #story prompt

[communistkenobi]

Historically, the fact that zombies originated in Haiti, as an expression of the terror felt by enslaved people towards the idea that they would remain enslaved even after death,makes the fact that nowadays, zombie narratives have become synonymous with "white dude (usually cop or adyancent) fantasy where you get to unleash your violent desires on a mass of homogenous dangerous people who are coming for your kid and wife next" makes it sooooooooooo much worse. Zombies have always been political

ok I looked this up bc I don’t know very much about it and this NPR article has a good excerpt:

Suicide was the slave's only way to take control over his or her own body ... And yet, the fear of becoming a zombie might stop them from doing so ... This final rest — in green, leafy, heavenly Africa, with no sugarcane to cut and no master to appease or serve — is unavailable to the zombie. To become a zombie was the slave's worst nightmare: to be dead and still a slave, an eternal field hand.

which I think reinforces the reading of zombies in american pop culture as these racialised non-persons, although the perspective on them has shifted drastically

#asks #racism tw #slavery tw #antiblackness tw #lmk if you want me to tag this with anything else #zombies

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I found a book that could apparently kill people if it was read, I tried to read it and I survived.

The book was fucking South Park mpreg omegaverse slavery fanfiction.

#dream #book #death tw #murder tw #south park #mpreg #omegaverse #slavery tw #fanfiction #fanfic #ff #nightmare

[saltywinteradult]

oh, d*ny stans. never change.

#mirri maz duur #anti daenerys targaryen #anti dany stans #anti-daenerys #anti asoiaf fandom #anti targaryen #anti-targaryen #anti targ stans #anti house targaryen #slavery tw #also for the love of god don't go harass the op. they're entitled to have their dumb opinions

[bcitisthelight]

hey remember when we were discussing how weird the whole cliegg thing is in AOTC. and you had thoughts, feelings and emotions. tell me about those XOXO

(Big TW for this post - I discuss human trafficking, sex trafficking, rape, child abuse, slavery, and PTSD in this post. It's about the realities of slavery and Tatooine and how it involves the Skywalkers.) Something that I almost never see in any discussion on the Lars family is how sharply the fanon headcanons and characterizations of diverge from the ones we get in the moves. Like, particularly Cliegg and the prequel trilogy. Like - I feel like there's this automatic assumption that the Lars loved Shmi and that they cared for Luke out of dedication to her and her family, and it's this huge found family vibe but like can I be real. Can I be super real right now. It’s something that I find kind of baffling, because when I watched Attack of the Clones, and on every rewatch since (and there have been many), it always seems kind of obvious to me that Cliegg bought Shmi as a slave, presumably as a house slave, if not outright as a part of sex trafficking. And I don't mean in one of those "He bought her to free her, he's a good guy, etc etc". I mean, he bought her as a slave with the original intention of keeping her as a slave. And what's really interesting, is you can get pretty much all the clues about that from the exchanges between Anakin has with Watto, his and Shmi's former master.

Again, I want to stress that, because I think it's crucial that we see this for what it is - not an exchange between a former employee and his boss, not an exchange between a kid and a member of his former community. His former slavemaster. The man who won him and his mother in a gambling game like so many fancy necklaces. The source and object of Anakin's childhood enslavement. Watto would have beaten them. He made Anakin, a child of 9 - and I read somewhere once that Anakin started in the races at 6 - ride in a pod race that no human has ever won before, with the full expectation that he would die. This is a being whose entire life has revolved around the certainty that society is not only capable of functioning, but functions best, when sentient beings can be bought and sold like property. And, to be real with you, because this is a thing that happens to people who suffer enslavement, he very likely loaned them out temporarily for sex trafficking purposes for a quick buck - a practice that is noted historically in virtually every society that operated on a system involving slaves.

It's important to recap that, because I do think it's impossible to understand how deeply horrifying the conversation they have is without that context. Like, let's look at how he tells Anakin about Shmi -

This scene is....so telling to me. From the outset, Watto said he sold her as a slave. Like, it was a slave exchange. Watto heard about her freedom later - clearly, Cliegg bought her, and behaved in a way - intentional or not - that Watto believed he was buying her as a slave to own as a slave. That part is not subtext, that's just actual text.

"But Mikhayla" some will say "he freed her the second he bought her - he bought her in order to free her." Except....there is genuinely nothing in the movies, and off the top of my head, the wider narrative, that ever indicates that that's true. In fact it makes no sense in that case, for Watto to have not known that Cliegg was buying her in order to free her. Why would he have to hide that? Watto presumably doesnt care what happens to her, because he's selling her. In the larger materials, its said that his shop fell on hard times, and in the movies, we can see the proof. The script says he's sitting outside his shop, but at that point it resembles more of a kind of beaten down stand. He's still selling junk, but less and of poorer quality - presumably, he's spent all his money on gambling debts. And the thing is, slaves are expensive. He sold her years prior, and I bet he fed himself on that money for a very long time - he was a very motivated seller, as barbaric as that language is to use about a transaction involving a human person. He's not going to be fussy over why the person buying her wants to buy her. There's also the fact that this is a society that vastly runs on slavery, and large plantation owners would often "rent" out slaves to smaller but still profitable farms. And Cliegg is a moisture farmer with presumably a large tract of land for water vaporizers. If anything, I can see Watto having rented Shmi to her, Cliegg taking a liking to her, and then approaching Watto to buy her. I mean, if he's profitable enough to just buy a slave, then he clearly had at least some money. "He spent his whole savings!" Show me that in the text. "He loved her from the start!" Show me that in the text. "But Mikhayla," yet others will say, "he did free her! And then married her! He clearly meant from the start to free her, and only bought her to get her away from Watto. He could have never seen her as property. Who would marry their slave?" Except, in the real world, this is...another thing we see across multiple historical records, masters buying women as slaves and then later freeing them in order to legally marry them. PARTICULARLY in societies that operate so heavily on an entire caste system involving slaves - we can look to the Roman Empire, for example. Countless Roman officials, merchants, and military officials bought women, fell in love with them, and freed them in order to marry them. "But maybe she said yes!" (I know these are not your objections, but as you know, I'm an attorney, which means I constantly have to find an argument to fight against). So, to this imaginary detractor I say: I feel like it should be rather obvious, but I'll say it just in case - it is impossible for a slave to consent to any action they perform at the request of a slave master. It cannot happen. A woman who is enslaved cannot consent to marrying the man who bought her, and who has very likely been raping her up until this point, and wants to now marry her - usually, to make any children he had by her legally his children, and therefore citizens, rather than slaves themselves.

So really, whether or not Cliegg had a change of heart doesn't actually change my mind about his actions towards Shmi. I don't care if Cliegg DID love her - in fact, I'm sure he DID love her. People can and have convinced themselves of all kinds of moral superiority, people can claim to love someone while owning them as property! Shmi could never consent to marrying a man who held her as a slave. Even if he freed her, and she willing chose to stay there for a few years, and then he asked her to marry him. In my head, you can't overcome that power imbalance. Cliegg will never not be a man who once believed Shmi was a thing to be owned. He will never be a man who didn't see her as property. Like, at some point, it actually becomes kind of more and more unlikely that this is a guy who took up this transaction for non-malicious purposes. Because we simply do not see it in the movie. What I see in the movie is a slave owner saying he fell on hard times and sold his slave to a farmer who probably needed help on his land or in his house - he has no wife, so the latter is probably more likely. I see him saying that at the time of the transaction, he had no idea that Cliegg intended to free her. And for all that Cliegg calls Shmi his darling, his love, his wife - not once do we ever hear of any evidence that Shmi saw this as a love match. In fact, the only thing we find out about her daily life with the Lars family is that in the mornings, she wakes up early and goes to pick mushrooms. You know. A task for the house. An unpleasant task, done before everyone else is awake, that she does absolutely alone. I'm just saying. These implications are not good ones. I will say though, for all this, do you know what really sells me on the idea that the relationship between Shmi and Cliegg is is not a consensual one, is Anakin's reaction to it. This is a boy whose entire hopes and dreams have revolved around his mother's freedom. You have more excellent writing than me on this, but the moral injury Anakin suffers leaving his mother behind is. Intense. All he wants is to one day free her. In a way, a part of him is always that tiny boy who couldn't bear the idea of leaving behind his mom, who swore, the last time he saw her, that he would free her. And at this moment, all of his dreams have seemingly come true! His mother is free. According to Watto, she's found love, and married. For all he knows, she's had other children. Maybe that could involve SOME complicated emotions, but mostly you would expect that he would feel, at the very least, relieved. Happy. Interested, curious. Instead, this is his reaction:

He's grim, business like. He is not happy. He is not relieved. He doesn't even seem to acknowledge that she's still alive - the way he reacts is not a man who thinks his mother is out of danger. To Anakin, who grew up enslaved until 9 and knows how this society works, it seems almost immediately apparent that the Lars are just a different kind of danger. There's also this rather interesting detail:

This is a boy who bleeds, every second of every day, longing for a family. He basically begs at obi-wan's feet day and night, to be acknowledged as a son. His reaction to his wife's pregnancy is radiant joy - his reaction to know she could die, profound existential horror. I mean good god, he basically turns Palpatine aka Satan Himself into a father figure, because he's that desperate for one. And here, this man is claiming him as his family. He's talked about being excited to see him. He talks about planning with Shmi to meet him. He calls him "son". And Anakin doesn't give him another moment of his time, the second those words are out of his mouth. It's silence. For a boy who is so starved for intimacy he genuinely falls in love with the very first girl who was ever nice to him, to react to a claim of relationship this way. It's bizarrely out of character for him. Unless it isn't. UNLESS he's disgusted by that claim, instead of relieved by it. If he thinks his mother has been bought and then forced into marriage, of course he hates Cliegg. I remember when we were watching the movie together, and remember I said to you "You can just tell Anakin is thinking, 'Call me son one more fucking time'" And can I be real, I have so much more to say about this. As you know, I actually have essays of opinions and feelings about Shmi Skywalker and her horrible life, and how Anakin was the one bright point she had in that horrible life. I have feelings about how she gave away her only happiness, because she knew he did not deserve the life of a slave. I had ideas about how you could turn this into a way to actually fix AOTC and make it better, a way you could use it as an excuse to get rid of the Tusken arc entirely without losing the tragedy of his mother's death. But this post is already so fucking long and I'm sure you're tired of me talking xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

#star wars #human trafficking tw #abuse tw #csa tw #rape tw #slavery tw #all the trigger warnings #GOD THIS MADE ME REALIZE HOW MUCH I FUCKING LOVE SHMI SKYWALKER #BECAUSE SHE HAD JUST #THE SHITTIEST LIFE RIGHT #LIKE SHES BORN INTO SLAVERY AND SHE DIES IN SLAVERY SHE LOSES EVERYTHING HER SON IS GONE SHES MARRIED TO HER SLAVE MASTER SHE DIES IN PAIN #BUT HER LOVE FOR ANAKIN WAS SO GOOD #SO INTENSELY AFFECTIONATE AND VALIDATING #EVEN IN ALL THAT HELL #THAT WHEN ITS RIPPED AWAY FROM HIM FOR GOOD ANAKIN BASICALLY LOSES HIMSELF ENTIRELY

[sadcatjae]

This anime is suuuch a tease. First episode we get gorgeous fairy whump, and thennn nothing for the rest of the season 😭 shalle fen shalle is prime whumpee. Hoping for more spicy content in the next season 🙏😌

#whump #anime whump #whump video #sugar apple fairy tale #shalle fen shalle #fairy whump #fairy whumpee #just looook at how they control the fairies #omg #shalle fen shalle is too pretty #defiant whumpee #slavery tw #chains #this is how you literally crush someones heart #i want to make him cry 😌

[sporkberries]

no but genuinely i think about the arcade gannon legion ending so fucking much its on my brain all the time. I think its one of my favourite endings in the game and it’s not because it’s a “good” ending. its an awful tragic one. It manages in just a few sentences to expand on both Arcade and Caesar’s characters in really interesting ways. Caesar not only kept Arcade alive for years but MOURNED him. I think it says something about how completely lonely Caesar is. Joshua is gone and sure Caesar has his “subjects” but those aren’t people he can confide in or discuss with. Not only because they see him more as a god than a man but due to the Anti-Intellectualism he himself has fostered in the Legion. And that’s not even getting into Arcade’s own personal tragedy here. Someone who values personal freedom so much being enslaved and offing themselves so brutally at his first opportunity. Seeing everything he believed in everything he hoped for burnt down in flames. “do no harm”, Arcade the philosopher vs Arcade the physician vs Arcade the man.

#no body look at me im going through things #i have so many thoughts on this subject specifically #i love u arcade #arcade gannon #fallout new vegas #spork says stuff #edward sallow #fnv #sui #slavery tw

[newsfromstolenland]

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

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

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

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

Full article

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

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

#this is so fucked dude #cdnpoli #racism #anti-blackness #slavery #slavery mention #lisa robinson #pickering #ontario #canada #racism tw #anti-blackness tw #slavery tw #slavery mention tw #mine

[hmshermitcraft]

Xisuma is a voidwolker and voidwolkers are rare and worth alot of money in the black market lucky for him his hermits will not let that happen and always cuddle the fear out of him

It took a while for Xisuma to open up about his fears. The hermits could tell he was afraid of something. He was always unsettled whilst sleeping, and rarely slept outside his base. It was also rare for him to leave the server outside of somewhere he already deemed safe.

When he finally told them - shaken by a news article he'd read recently - the hermits were surprised they didn't put it together sooner. Xisuma has always gone to such lengths to keep them safe, of course it worried him. Even being such a high target puts the rest of the hermits at risk too.

They comfort him. They tell him he should've told them sooner, but they understand that sounds easier than it is. Then they get to work.

Within a week they've set up elaborate security systems, including alarms that Xisuma can set up as needed and can be easily hidden on his person. They've reached out to organisations to introduce and familiarise themselves with them and if there's ever anything he doesn't feel safe about, they'll go with him. No matter how silly it seems.

Most people have plus ones, what's a plus two, or five, or fifteen?

#hermitshipping #ask #xisuma tag #polyhermits #rosenight143 #mod 🎀 #slavery tw #kidnapping tw

[friendlylocalwhumper]

“Yes.” | “Kneel.” | Best of Three | Correspondence | Appraisal

“This one… was difficult. Quick to obey, if you make the consequences for failure clear. But not eager. For example…”

A single fingertip starts at the nape of his neck, trailing down his spine. Muscles twitch under the thick scarring across Major’s back as he instinctively flinches down and only manages to wrench his arms farther up. Kept on his knees, thighs pressed tightly to his ribcage, head hanging and arms forced high behind his back to keep him locked in this position that makes his body feel like it’s on fire… the once-proud healer whines breathlessly. Defeated, he allows the touch to slide back up toward his shoulders and push down until he wheezes faintly. Chains clink somewhere overhead with his tremors.

“Ah, I see,” Says the new person. A buyer? Some freak who wants a pet? Major has no idea. No one tells him anything here. He doesn’t get to know anything here. Barely gets to earn one more day of being alive, with every act of obedience. “He’s not leaning into it, is he? Could you get him there?”

Tears well up in Major’s eyes and threaten to drip to the floor. He’s not fucking crying, he just… doesn’t want to fucking imagine how he could end up. What he could be trained to act like.

The trailing fingers are replaced by a wide, warm hand across the back of his neck. Despite how it makes his arms creak and twitch, Major cowers down to press his knees harder into his ribs, breaths coming shallower with every futile attempt to escape the crushing warmth. As fingers slide up into his hair, burrowing under bleached straw to find the softer, grown out brown waves against his scalp, Major tries to rise before he can be yanked upward. The chain linked to his iron collar clinks in protest, but relief washes over him anyway as the owner of the hand hums in approval.

“We could get him there.”

taglist: @morning-star-whump, @lthrboy, @apokolyps, @paperprinxe

#whump #drabble #mine #captivity #torture #stress position #conditioning #slavery tw #dehumanization #major #major is a really shitty guy but i don't think he deserves THIS

[3-2-whump]

Whumpee Intro: The Auction Floor

next>

Thanks @dresden-syndrome for helping me bounce ideas off you! We talked about how pet stores display the fish in glass tanks, especially how some of the good stores display their betta fish in individual glass tanks. And I was like, "why not for pet whumpees?" Inspiration comes from the unlikeliest of places.

TW/CW: institutionalized slavery, pet whump, nonconsensual nudity (nonsexual), minor whump (at time of story), noncon body mod (briefly mentioned), light gore (briefly mentioned). I also have little to no idea how auctions like this would work, so I'm skipping over some details. Enjoy, regardless.

The boy backed up as far as his glass prison would allow, but the hungry eyes of the bidders outside never left him. He hoped and prayed nobody would buy him, but his hope diminished with every scrutinizing stare and comment muffled through the glass. He slumped into the corner of his cell and curled into a ball, ignoring the handlers’ threats they drilled into each prospective asset before the auction began. He shut his eyes and buried his head into his folded-up knees. If he was just boring enough to look at, maybe the people outside would move on and buy somebody else.

The floor was cold. The glass walls of his cell were cold. He was bare, completely naked in the empty glass container. The back of his left ear was itchy, but he made no move to scratch at it. If he interfered with the tattoo as it was healing, they promised to pull out his fingernails. It had already happened to one girl; he had seen it. He dug his nails into his shins until the unbearable itching subsided enough to ignore it once again.

The murmurs outside died down, accompanied by the sound of retreating footsteps. The boy dared to peek out from his hiding place. He locked eyes with a man standing right in front of his cell, staring at him with a glass of whiskey in hand. He was a big man, broad shouldered and solidly built underneath that crisply pressed suit. He was easily two heads taller than his father, and up until that point, the boy thought his father was pretty tall. The man had short, dirty-blonde hair and sharp, steel-gray eyes. His mouth was downturned into a frown, the only indication of what he may truly feel behind the blank expression he bore.

Two more men –presumably his friends- materialized alongside him, jovially poking at him and gesturing inside the boy’s cell. It was next to impossible to make out the words they were saying from within the cell, but the boy got a sinking feeling in his stomach. The whole time, the man’s eyes never left his.

---

The auction part of the night had ended, their area of the black market had been closed off, and he (among many others) was retrieved from the glass box. The handler who fetched him threw him a pair of pants and a shirt. “Put those on, and follow me.”

So, I did get sold, the boy realized. He dressed quickly and followed the handler silently, dread weighing down each footstep. He mentally ran through the faces he dared to look at while he wondered who among the crowd had bought him. His mind circled back to the tall man with the scowl. Please, God, please, not him, he begged.

He stopped in his tracks when they came to the exit. The very same tall man turned around to meet him. The handler quietly disappeared from his side. Those steel eyes looked far colder and sharper up close. The boy averted his eyes, staring at his bare feet while keeping his hands folded in front of him.

“What’s your name, kid?”

The boy looked up briefly. Faint freckles danced across the man’s pale cheeks, and an old scar grazing across his left temple disappeared into his hairline. Those sharp steely eyes continued to flay him. He was so scared he nearly forgot his new owner had asked him a question. My name? He dropped his gaze back to his feet. “Khaled,” he all but whispered. “But you may call me whatever you want, sir,” he added, remembering the ‘correct’ answer.

The man above him murmured his name a couple times to himself as the boy stood ready to accept a new name, if his new master so wished it. “Luckily for you, I like your name,” he said decisively.

Before Khaled could breathe a sigh of relief, the man placed a broad hand on his shoulder. The boy tensed; his palm covered his whole shoulder blade. “Come with me, Khaled.” Not like he had a choice, when his master’s hand pushed him out the door into a future of unknowns and uncertainties.

#whump writing #oc intro #viridian oc #whumpee #pet whumpee #tw minor whump #tw slight gore #tw noncon nudity #tw noncon bodymod #slavery tw #slavery whump

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A Toronto man chained himself to a sign as part of a hunger strike at a historic cemetery in Niagara-on-the-Lake this week in an attempt to get the town to pay to unearth and restore the headstones of Black settlers.

"It was an act of desperation, I've been trying for the last nearly two years to convince the Town of Niagara-on-the-Lake to do the right thing, to provide some respect to the folks who are buried there," James Russell, 76, told CTV News Toronto.

Russell chained himself to the Negro Burial Ground sign at the Niagara Baptist Church Memorial Ground at 12 p.m. on Monday, but ended his protest Tuesday evening to return home for a family matter.

Russell says he took a personal interest in the cemetery when, after multiple trips to the area, he noticed a sign commemorating not a burial ground, but an empty field. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

#cdnpoli #Toronto #Ontario #these were refugees not settlers #canadian history #american history #underground railroad #slavery tw #anti blackness #racism #black history

[one-time-i-dreamt]

Hatsune Miku was secretly a half cyborg god who brainwashed people to turn them into slaves for her army and will soon take control of the world and the other parallel worlds and the universe while kidnapping people and devouring the soul of the innocent.

#dream #hatsune miku #vocaloid #cyborg #brainwashing #army #slavery tw #parallel world #kidnapping tw #horror #nightmare

[illwilledomen]

What is the hierarchy and the political structure of the illager empire?

Illagers are ruled by an oligarchic monarchy.

At the top we have the Arch-Emperor. This is the supposed ruler of illager kind, but really, these monarchs are often at the mercy of the whims of their various advisors. To use Archie as an example, he seemed ultimately powerful, and while he does have a lot of political influence, he was fact more of a figurehead for the empire (and the literal cursed forbidden object, but that’s not relevant) and is vulnerable to competitors or mutiny. Then we have the second-in-command. This is made up of the most powerful, influential and skilled mages, warlocks, generals, warlords and captains. All use titles pertaining to a key aspect of their authority: E.G, a skilled vindicator general with a high body count would be called The Executioner. A uniquely powerful evoker would be called The Thaumaturge (side glances at my musty crusty man Herold). A dude known for his engineering prowess would be called The Engineer. So on.

Thirdly, we have the warriors. This is made up of mostly vindicators. Pillagers are more expendable, where as vindicators are the real weaponry. This is made up of illagers specifically trained, brainwashed and surgically altered to be killing machines. This is where vindicators with lapis implants are situated. Not every vindicator gets a lapis implant, of course — Lapis is a precious material, with many uses. Illagers are picked carefully to be operated on. Stronger, bigger, hardier and higher up vindicators are often chosen. Illager parents whom are particularly patriotic may offer up their children to be turned into weapons. Fucked up! But to them, it’s like sending their kid to Harvard. This class is also made up of less skilled magic casters, and younger ones who are still students of the arcane arts.

And then we have the workforce. This is made up of the lower class illagers who weren’t born wealthy enough to be educated. Some are still given military training: Those are your good old pillagers, sent to outposts to be tutored by captains. They are used as expendable meat shields, for the most part. You also have workers like miners, farmers, shopkeepers…. Non-combat oriented ills. They need someone to put food on the table and iron in the forges, after all.

Lastly, we have the strays and peasantry. This encompasses a variety of different classes. Stray illagers are those like illusioners and some witch covens. They aren’t special enough to be Real Illagers. This may include lords and ladies who have been stripped of their ranks for treason or some other crime. Often aren’t welcome in illager society, and live on the outskirts. We also have religious minorities, like the Gale Sanctum, who are relatively oppressed and have considerable tension with “true illagers”. They’re considered primitive and lesser by many illagers. Simply weirdos who live in the mountains and clang rocks and ice together with their silly wind powers, not a real magical culture or anything. (Sarcasm)

At least they’re not… villagers…. [sounds of illager disgust]

This is also made up of non-illager aligned witches and villagers who have been taken into illager society as slaves. Many villagers are taken in raids and sold off for labour, experimentation and prostitution. Slavery is legal in illager society, if you hadn’t guessed. They don’t call ‘em ill-willed villagers for nothing.

#minecraft headcanons #minecraft #minecraft lore #minecraft illager #illager #vindicator #evoker #pillager #villager #minecraft villager #slavery tw #my minecraft lore

[compassionatereminders]

I would also argue that plurality can often be a coping mechanism for trauma, without necessarily following the pattern described in DID. It's fairly new that DID has even been described thoroughly. Until recently in most of the world, who uses ICD, there was a vague "other dissociative disorders -multiple personalities" which had zero description or clinical requirements. What's now diagnosed as DID, would for a long time get diagnosed as schizophrenia.

The diagnostic categories are always changing and it's ok to use them as a definition, but you can't use them as a Truth, in the sense that any one type of experience could only occur within The Disorder...

Yeah like while it isn't this bad today, in the past everything from being queer to "hysteria" to protesting slavery has been "mental illnesses" in the DSM and I wouldn't assume the ICD has a much better history. So like. It's kinda important that we keep questioning and editing that thing. Even as most of the more horrendous stuff has been cut through the years, the DSM (and also the ICD) is still a work in progress, not The Final Truth. It's definitely not apolitical and inherently above criticism

#chat with kat #kat plays games #discourse tw #sysdiscourse tw #slavery tw #racism tw #sexism tw #homophobia tw #bigotry tw #queerphobia tw #politics tw

[the-baby-storyteller]

Tw: slave whump, minor whump

Pt 2.

For a second all they could hear was ringing. The faint echoing of wrong wrong wrong chanting in their ear strung them through a trance as the world seemed to twirl around them.

And then it all came rushing back in.

They began to hyperventilate on their knees. The Young Master stood, rubbing his forehead and groaning. Their breaths picked up.

How could I do that how could I make a mistake already I fell into the master? I've already messed up I'm going to be beat and so soon-

Whumpee bit their lip to prevent the whimper threatening to escape. They heard the young master shift above them, and they shakily moved onto their hands and knees into a full bow before him. Angling their head down, they tremulously choked out,

"P-Please forgive me, Master! I promise I didn't mean to bump into you!"

They breathed wetly, not daring to look up or move, but still, against their will, trembling. they didn't know how to convince Master that they were so so sorry may they please not be punished yet it was too soon.

But it was their fault, they should never have been foolish enough to err this easily so they deserved it and they were just the type of slut to mess up so easily. They couldn't hear anything above them so they were just left to wonder what response the master would give as he stared and stared and stared at their trembling-

"Are you..."

Their body and thoughts froze when they heard his voice above them. He was now going to ream at their, to deal out their punishment-

"...scared?"

“…”

A pause. Whumpee blinked. Their hyperventilation slowed for a minute, and then quickly picked back up.

What kind of question was that?

Their eyes darted around, as their mind sought purchase on something that made sense in this confusion.

Whumpee…had no idea how to answer that. No one had ever asked them a question like that before. Were they supposed to be scared? Should they affirm being terrified, shaking in fear at the power their master held, at the knowledge that he could and would do whatever he pleased to them and that they must sit there and take it like a good slave because they were the one who messed up in the first place? He had total control over them and their life, after all, and they knew their place. Frankly, they were terrified and were certain it could be seen.

But maybe the point was for them to deny it. To say they weren’t afraid because how dare they be afraid of their master doing something he was well within his rights to do? Something they deserved.

Their head ached with all the battling thoughts and struggles, and they felt themself growing light with dizziness. What did Master want-

“Tell me the truth.”

Whumpee’s stomach flipped.

“Y-Yes!..”

Their breathing labored and they fought with the effort to keep themself still despite their shaking. They still didn’t dare look up, the confusion of the atmosphere weighing on their mind.

“Why?”

Whumpee blinked.

“B-Because…”

Why? Why was he asking them this? No one had ever cared. Whumpee didn’t want to answer. Didn’t want to let it out and be more vulnerable than they already were.

But they had to answer. Their eyes drifted to the side.

“I’m s-scared of what you m-might do to m-me.” they stuttered out, not quite daring to whisper, but quiet all the same.

They immediately closed their eyes. Was that disrespectful? They shouldn’t have insinuated him hurting them. Oh, they were a fool for talking to a master about his decisions on them. Why couldn’t they have lied? Said anything less presumptuous, less risky. But, they sniffled, they were scared, and they’d tried to do it tactfully, they just really didn’t want to dare lie to the young master now but still-

Their internal fears and ramblings passed the eerily silent time until they heard a footstep. Peeking an eye open, they realized Young Master had taken a step closer on the floor.

To them.

Panic flooded them and instantly they squeezed their eyes shut again.

A light touch brushed their shoulder. Whumpee tensed. The sensation left and the anxiety automatically flowed out from their body. But then the touch came back, somehow even lighter and more gentle than before, but also more confident.

Idiot. How could they think they were safe-

A surprisingly strong arm quickly and softly pulled them, drawing them upwards off the floor. It maneuvered their shakingly pliant limbs, and before they understood what was going on, they were stood weakly, being held in Young Master’s arms. The young master wrapped his arm around them, bracing them against him as they shook so badly they could barely stand, his other hand holding up their face so they were face to face with him, if not for their still closed eyes.

What was happening. What was happening?

“What’s your name, and how old are you?”

“M-My name is Whumpee, and I’m 17, Young Master.”

Silence.

“Look at me.”

Shoot.

Slowly, Whumpee’s eyes quivered open. For the first time, they were face to face with the Young Master.

It was terrifying.

Dark eyes met them back. The Young Master was as they thought, young, and a closer look at his face only confirmed this. He was taller than them only by a little bit and his gaze was resolutely intent as he stared at them.

Their skin flushed at the closeness they could no longer try to avoid by not seeing. They really did not want to be forced to look at him. But they had no choice…

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Whumpee nearly choked. Their heart skipped a beat.

W-What? I-I…

Their eyes grew wild, searching Master’s face. His expression was just as serious and firm as before, something underneath it that they didn’t dare try to interpret. Fear seeped into them. They didn’t understand and not understanding was the worst thing that could happen when dealing with a master.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” His voice rang out.

Whumpee twitched. They hurriedly avoided eye contact with the young master, turning to the side and trying to control their breathing. It wasn’t working. They couldn’t keep their trembling under wraps because the situation was just so weird but they had to obey Master and not look like they were-

“I can tell you don’t believe me by the way you’re shaking.”

Blood drained from their face as their eyes darted back to Master, the fear making his gaze appear stone cold. He knew they were faking. They squeezed their eyes shut. Please no punishment.

“Have you…”

Their eyes peeked open.

“Been hurt before?”

Hesitantly, whumpee looked askance. “Yes, Master.” they muttered, quivering. As if they weren’t a slave.

They could feel him staring at them in silence.

Why is he asking me these questions? I-Is he really not going to…hurt me?

“Whumpee.”

Their shaky gaze traveled back to their terrifying master. Who was still holding them.

“Don’t be scared of me.” He spoke, vaguely, strangely, softly. For the second time they caught something odd in his eye. Something they couldn’t make out. They didn’t dare to. “I’ll never hurt you.”

Again, Whumpee found themselves not knowing what to do, how to respond. Could they trust him? He was their owner, after all.

He can still do whatever he wants with me.

Whumpee’s face clouded over.

After a pause, Master spoke. “I’ll let you go now.” But it was distant.

They were too caught up in their thoughts, brought back too much to the knowledge of all the things he could do to them and they would have no power to do anything about it because they belonged to him. Whumpee held their arm, drawing in on themself.

They waited. And waited longer. Master just stood in the silence.

“Don’t you want to leave?”

“I was waiting for your order,” they replied quietly, “or command, Master.”

“You…” they heard him sigh, “You can be excused. I’ll eat.”

“Yes, Master.” they whispered, bowing, and hurriedly turning to walk as quickly as they dared out of the room.

It was only after they left that they noticed Master hadn’t hurt them.

#slavery tw #minor whump #whump #slave whump #conditioned whumpee #whump writing