you are not a slave

borzboy  asked:

are you having fun making slave owners into "quirky relatable characters" while beign full on antiblack and homophobic

(( bitch i am black AND gay stop policing the very people you call yourself tryna “defend” you social snowflake piece of shit i’m damn SICK of you and people like you

and it’s ‘being’ not ‘beign’

next question! ))

You’re a heavily pregnant slave carrying quadruplets. Very far along now, you can barely stand. Your master has made you fat so your belly is huge, round, and a little doughy. He walks into your room and gives your belly a firm slap. “How’re my boys?” You cringe in pain and ignore him. He pushes you to the ground and stand over you with his foot over your belly button. “I asked you a question you fat lard! Answer or I’ll kick you into labor” you say they’re fine and try to get up….

Lovin Slave

Skin to skin

Body to body

Souls you are mine

I am yours

To have, to hold, to do whatever your heart desires

Because I desire you

Let us become one, no longer two

As we make an elixir of passion

No rationing, it’s all for me

Heat…sweat…breath on the neck

I’m weak…toes curl…legs shaking
No signs of faking, this is real

I can feel
Your heart beat

I look in your eyes…so deep
We. Are. In. Sync

Take me to those forbidden places

I am your lovin slave
Command me to do as you please

I am on my knees

Take me now!
Take me here!

For the world to know..mmm my dear

You done did it…

Now do it again

- @brandonevppoetry

Online and high now:

I’m online right now, so feel free to send me messages of the horrible things you will do to me or to a girl of your choice.

I would like you to send me messages about how you are going to find me, force me, fuck me, knock me up and use me. How you are going to hurt her and make her your fuck slave who only obeys you because you will hurt her if she does not. None of this- she secretly wants it shit- that’s just a turn off because it’s not real. It’s out of character for a rape. 

Tell me how you are going to tie me open and let men fuck me for hours, days, weeks on end. Tell me what each of the men do to me in explicit detail including how his cock is throbbing and how the large head of his shaft hurts me when he shoves his very large dick roughly into me the first time.

Tell me how many men fuck me total, and that number had better be large. Very very large. Because how else would you make someone realize that their world is over and the only option left is to be fucked by men for the rest of your life.

Tell me how you’ve been drugging me with fertility drugs with the explicit intent to force multiples in a pregnancy with the sole purpose of making the pregnancy even more excruciating than it already is. Tell me how you use me like a fucking rag doll during the pregnancy without any regard for my safety, or that of the unknown men’s children in my womb.

Tell me how you would sell those children away to be adopted by some couple that didn’t want to have kids on their own. And tell me how you would keep fucking my face until I was ready to have another baby shoved up my cunt via some new unknown man’s cock.

This is for @wittyy-name and her (and @wolfpainters) fic SUADWM! <3

Alright my hand is hurting so jUsT tAkE IT! I’ve been working with Paint Tool Sai 2 on this one! (the struggle :’))
Happy Birthday Witty!! :D I hope I’m still kind of on time??

The Prophet (ﷺ) said:

“I guarantee a house in Paradise for one who gives up arguing, even if he is right; and a house in the middle of Paradise for one who abandons lying even when joking; and a house in the highest part of Paradise for one who makes his character excellent.”

[Abu Dawud]

Seeing all this stuff about the Alex Tizon discourse is making me wanna throw up. 

Listen. What they did? It’s slavery. We know. We get it.  But it’s not your slavery, it is a product of the broken system which we have been mired in, one which America has been directly complicit in. It’s an unfortunate case, horrifying, not entirely unexpected, but not exactly the norm. The issue here is that foreigners are trying to put words in our mouth and making this discussion about them instead of letting Filipinos process this and have a proper conversation about it without them shutting us down and screaming BUT SLAVERY!!! APOLOGISTS!!! not only that but they’re deliberately misunderstanding our language and honorifics, they are making things out to be something they’re not.

The system is broken. Any Filipino can tell you that. Yelling at us isn’t going to fix it unless you can somehow fix an entire culture with a press of a button and magically remove 400 years of colonialism and oppression, both by foreigners and fellow Filipinos, which has directly contributed to how desperate and helpless our people have become. It just doesn’t work that way.

But what really pisses me off about this? It’s because we’ve already been silenced before. We have been colonized, mistreated, our culture erased and labeled as inferior, our country gutted for resources and labor and this is still happening, just now its happening on more socially acceptable terms. 

Context and the underlying culture does matter, especially when our culture has already been so abused and erased that we have no idea what kind of culture or history we would have had if it hadn’t been beaten out of us by colonizers for 400 years, even the name of our country, our very identity. To this day we still struggle with our identity as a people, with the colonial mentality and nation-wide inferiority complex instilled in us by colonizers.

Keep in mind that every time you yell at us about how culture doesn’t matter, you’re all slavery apologists, without taking into consideration our views, our culture and the system which contributes to this, and how people are still working to correct it despite the fact that progress will likely not come for another 20? 30? years maybe even longer. Progress is slow when you live in a country where every system is designed against you. We are seeing people from a country which oppressed us, attempting to once again erase our narrative and tell us they know better, perhaps then you can forgive us for being wary of foreigners dismissing our culture and views to propagate their own.


Hey everyone I put all my Lance and Keith stuff on my redbubble shop!!!!

Stickers are from $2.53, posters from $13.61 up!!! There’s a lot more stuff available too so please check them out!

Being a slave and Ivar becoming obsessed with you would include...

  • being one of the few slaves who’s not afraid of him (simply because you don’t care) and that incidentally being the reason why he likes you
  • Ivar always giving you smug looks and ordering you around at dinner
  • him getting pissed off when his brothers talk to you or ask you for anything
  • smacks on the butt whenever you walk past him
  • making you trip and spill whatever it is you’re carrying on purpose so you have to bend down in front of him
  • glaring at Ivar while he talks to you
  • Ivar being a sarcastic little shit even though he really tries to be nice and get your attention
  • a lot of extra tasks for you just so he has an excuse to be around you without making it obvious
  • you’d get away with a lot more than most people, sometimes even daring to argue with him
  • he’d follow you around from time to time to see what you liked doing in your free time
  • Ivar started out as your worst nightmare but you’d slowly realize that he talked differently to you and it wasn’t in a bad way
  • he’d think about making you a free woman a lot but wouldn’t dare, thinking you’d leave and never talk to him again
you. are. everything. part 2!

“i don’t need a friend. i don’t need you”.

and with those venomous words said, he crawled away from her, leaving her behind all alone.


ivar hated that he did that to you back then, he now knew how much you wanted to be friends, to make him happy and feel better. but he was so blind and full of self hate to realize that.

you just wanted to do good. and he had to act like an ass.

he honestly still beat himself up over it all these years later.

he remembered the first time you both actually bonded.


it had been months and months since the incident in the clearing.  but guess what?, she still hadn’t left him alone.
but, she did learn some bounderies. she didn’t talk as much around him, she didn’t really beg to play as much, but it still irked ivar to no end.
ivar now could…tolerate her, to some level. he still loved to tease her, but she just laughed happily at his sly comments. which irritated him.

it was meant to hurt her, not amuse her.

though, one moment last week made him actually laugh and feel content in her presence.

sigurd was making the nastiest comments about ivar possible, even making fun of (y/n) herself.

one comment, he guessed, got to her. but it wasn’t about her, it was about ivar.
she jumped up from her chair and kicked sigurd. hard.

ivar couldn’t help but laugh loud. he didn’t think the little catholic slave had it in her. not only to kick someone, but a prince no less.
she turned towards ivar and shot him a smile, glad that she made him laugh. but their happiness was short lived.

“what is going on here!?”. it was her mother and her owner.

the girl turned to her mother, looking very shy more quiet than ivar thought possible.

sigurd was sitting on the floor, holding his leg and crying dramatically. aslaug then came in, her dress flying behind her.

her eyes immediately landing on her children.

(y/n)’s mother turned towards the queen and bowed in respect, her hands shaking with fear.

“my queen, i apologize for my daughters behavior”.

aslaug looked between her and the children in front of her. ivar was stiffling his laughter and sigurd was still crying in pain.

aslaug stepped over to sigurd and helped him up, taking a look at his leg. there was already a bruise forming.

aslaug sighed and pressed a kiss to her sons head, pushing his hair back from his head.

“please forgive me, my queen. i should have been watching her more closely”.

“do not worry. he will be fine. please, just, leave us” aslaug said with a wave of her hand. the woman nodded and glared at her daughter furiously.

she turned towards ivar and shot him a small smile and wave, before being dragged away by her mother and slave owner following close behind. a deep angry frown upon his face.

ivar felt somewhat sorry for the girl who was just trying to protect him. but he never said anything. even when he heard her getting her bottom smacked, and her cries of pain.

the next week after that, she was completely fine, happy and back to her annoying self. but ivar, was not so fine.

his legs were paining him beyond belief. the tears begging to be released, but ivar held them back. not wanting to show weakness.

he remembered laying in his bed, writhing and moaning in pain. he also remembered hearing his door creak open.

it was her, his annoying little ‘friend’.

she came in holding up a book. ivar said nothing as she crawled up beside him. he was in too much pain to insult her and tell her to leave today.

she opened the book and started to read aloud to him.

he was still in pain, but somehow, her reading to him made him feel a bit better and distracted from the pain.

she looked….different.

ivar shook his head from the thought and continued to listen to her less annoying sounding voice.

this continued on for weeks as his legs continued to pain him.

she read him anything he wanted to hear. eventually he got tiered of hearing the same books, so he started asking her about anything and everything.

her religion, her old village, where she came from, did she like it there. everything he could think of he asked.

then he started telling her stories, of his gods, what he believed in, why he was so sour about life.    

and she listened, she actually listened, she laughed and smiled when he was being funny, and comforted him when he needed it.

he never had someone listen to him so intently. she was actually interested in everything he had to say she laughed and smiled when he was being funny,
and comforted him when he needed it.

he never had someone listen to him so intently. she was actually interested in everything he had to say, something no one had really done before.

days and weeks went by and (y/n) stayed longer, and longer. she’d read, talk, laugh, and play with him whenever he wanted.

he actually found himself enjoying her company. of course, though, he never showed it.

he was starting to find her laugh and voice and overall demeanor less annoying than before.

but one day, he got news that made him wish he’d have showed his liking of her company.

the large, brutal viking man that owned both her and her mother decided to train her.

he said his reasons wre because she was too “wild” and “wayward” and “troubling”.

this made ivar mad. she was just adventurous is all. a bit annoying, as well. but trouble? no, not in ivars eyes.

but he never said anything. and of course, that didn’t change anything.

the first weeks he hadn’t seen her at all. but after another week she was allowed to visit him, for only a few hours.

it angered ivar that she was pushed so hard, she could barely keep her eyes open when she’d visit him. could barely sit up normally from being so sore.

and……the bruises.

large finger shaped bruises covered every inch of her arms. sometimes her legs and throat as well.

ivar knew that this man who owned her could be very harsh and extremely
frightening when angered.

he hated how much this angered him, and how much he actually missed her company. he missed her reading to him, and laughing with him, just talking with him.

he hated it. and he hated himself for feeling like this.

so, ivar had formed a plan. one morning, ivar crawled from his bed and to his mother.

she smiled warmly at her son, until she saw his troubled expression. a mix of anger and anxiousness.

his words had shocked her.

he watched as his mother took in his request. her brows furrowed and mouth slightly open in thought.

he asked his mother to buy her from that man.

aslaug had never seen her son close to another child. or any child for that matter. to most people, ivar and this girls relationship couldn’t even be considered close, but to aslaug this was close close.

she stared at her son for a moment, processing his words.

she wanted her son who was in contant chronic pain to be happy. that’s all she wanted for ivar.

so, she agreed.

y/n) could not have been more excited nor thrilled. of course, ivar made aslaug promise not to tell her it was his idea in the first place to buy her.

he didn’t want her to know how much he liked her company.

and after two years of her living with ivar, the two were inseperable.

and after ragnar left, ivar relied on her even more. and she was there, no matter what.

ivar now considered her his closest friend. his only friend really. and he was fine with that. she was all he needed.

he found out more and more new things about her as she grew with him. even from a young age, she had quite a thing for hiding stray animals in the shed and pouting till he made her release them.

she grew into loving her training, but only when ivar would train with her. they both   were growing into the best warriors in kattegat.

ivar could see the newfound love and deep emotions for training, but somehow she still kept that beautiful innocence she’d had ever since she was a child.
as years went on ivar found himself feeling new things for this girl, his best friend.

he remembere one night, a few weeks back. his legs were killing him. thumping and aching. no relief could be found no matter how he lay.

he couldn’t help but let out a painfilled sob.
he remembered hearing the sounds of footsteps thumping along the hall outside his room.

it was her, he could tell.

she slowly opened his door and slid in carefully. all the training they had been doing causing her to lighten her steps.

she was wearing the thinnist, most revealing nightdress ivar had ever seen. he had little to imagine what her body looked like in the nude.

she really had grown into a womans body. her hips wide, her legs and arms toned just right. she really was a woman, no longer a girl.

she slowly slid into his bed and crawled closer to him. she helped him move closer until his body was laying on hers. his head resting on her chest, her hands rubbing down his bare back and through his hair.

“i heard you all the way from my room” she whispered.

ivar rubbed his nose along her neck.

“sorry” he hissed out, gasping loudly from the pain in his legs. she hushed him and hugged him even closer.

“no, ivar. do not be sorry. i just want to make you feel better”.

she then started humming, so softly. ivar closed his eyes tight, trying to concentrait on her lovely voice instead of the pain.

it was then in that moment that ivar realized how much he really needed her with him. all these new feelings for her. what did they mean?

he didn’t know whether to be calm and accepting of these feelings, or be terrified and try to forget how he felt.

here’s part 2! i hope you guys like it! sorry it’s not very good. lots of love and thanks from me!

@anzoh @thejokerwaynekent  @lovelynerdytraveler