#Locke's philosophy of freedom

[blueheartbookclub]

"A Foundation of Modern Political Thought: A Review of John Locke's Second Treatise of Government"

John Locke's "Second Treatise of Government" stands as a cornerstone of modern political philosophy, presenting a compelling argument for the principles of natural rights, social contract theory, and limited government. Written against the backdrop of political upheaval in 17th-century England, Locke's treatise remains as relevant and influential today as it was upon its publication.

At the heart of Locke's work lies the concept of natural rights, wherein he asserts that all individuals are born with inherent rights to life, liberty, and property. Locke argues that these rights are not granted by governments but are instead derived from the natural state of humanity. Through logical reasoning and appeals to natural law, Locke lays the groundwork for the assertion of individual rights as fundamental to the legitimacy of government.

Central to Locke's political theory is the notion of the social contract, wherein individuals voluntarily enter into a political community to secure their rights and promote their common interests. According to Locke, legitimate government arises from the consent of the governed, and its authority is derived from its ability to protect the rights of its citizens. This contract between rulers and the ruled establishes the basis for legitimate political authority and provides a framework for assessing the legitimacy of governmental actions.

Locke's treatise also advocates for the principle of limited government, arguing that the powers of government should be strictly defined and circumscribed to prevent tyranny and abuse of authority. He contends that governments exist to serve the interests of the people and should be subject to checks and balances to prevent the concentration of power in the hands of a few. Locke's advocacy for a separation of powers and the rule of law laid the groundwork for modern democratic governance and constitutionalism.

Moreover, Locke's emphasis on the right to revolution remains a contentious and influential aspect of his political philosophy. He argues that when governments fail to fulfill their obligations to protect the rights of citizens, individuals have the right to resist and overthrow oppressive regimes. This revolutionary doctrine has inspired movements for political reform and self-determination throughout history, serving as a rallying cry for those seeking to challenge unjust authority.

In conclusion, John Locke's "Second Treatise of Government" is a seminal work that continues to shape the discourse on political theory and governance. Through his eloquent prose and rigorous argumentation, Locke presents a compelling vision of a just and legitimate political order grounded in the principles of natural rights, social contract, and limited government. His ideas have left an indelible mark on the development of liberal democracy and remain essential reading for anyone interested in understanding the foundations of modern political thought.

John Locke's "Second Treatise of Government" is available in Amazon in paperback 12.99$ and hardcover 19.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 181

Language: English

Rating: 9/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[blueheartbooks]

"A Foundation of Modern Political Thought: A Review of John Locke's Second Treatise of Government"

John Locke's "Second Treatise of Government" stands as a cornerstone of modern political philosophy, presenting a compelling argument for the principles of natural rights, social contract theory, and limited government. Written against the backdrop of political upheaval in 17th-century England, Locke's treatise remains as relevant and influential today as it was upon its publication.

At the heart of Locke's work lies the concept of natural rights, wherein he asserts that all individuals are born with inherent rights to life, liberty, and property. Locke argues that these rights are not granted by governments but are instead derived from the natural state of humanity. Through logical reasoning and appeals to natural law, Locke lays the groundwork for the assertion of individual rights as fundamental to the legitimacy of government.

Central to Locke's political theory is the notion of the social contract, wherein individuals voluntarily enter into a political community to secure their rights and promote their common interests. According to Locke, legitimate government arises from the consent of the governed, and its authority is derived from its ability to protect the rights of its citizens. This contract between rulers and the ruled establishes the basis for legitimate political authority and provides a framework for assessing the legitimacy of governmental actions.

Locke's treatise also advocates for the principle of limited government, arguing that the powers of government should be strictly defined and circumscribed to prevent tyranny and abuse of authority. He contends that governments exist to serve the interests of the people and should be subject to checks and balances to prevent the concentration of power in the hands of a few. Locke's advocacy for a separation of powers and the rule of law laid the groundwork for modern democratic governance and constitutionalism.

Moreover, Locke's emphasis on the right to revolution remains a contentious and influential aspect of his political philosophy. He argues that when governments fail to fulfill their obligations to protect the rights of citizens, individuals have the right to resist and overthrow oppressive regimes. This revolutionary doctrine has inspired movements for political reform and self-determination throughout history, serving as a rallying cry for those seeking to challenge unjust authority.

In conclusion, John Locke's "Second Treatise of Government" is a seminal work that continues to shape the discourse on political theory and governance. Through his eloquent prose and rigorous argumentation, Locke presents a compelling vision of a just and legitimate political order grounded in the principles of natural rights, social contract, and limited government. His ideas have left an indelible mark on the development of liberal democracy and remain essential reading for anyone interested in understanding the foundations of modern political thought.

John Locke's "Second Treatise of Government" is available in Amazon in paperback 12.99$ and hardcover 19.99$ editions.

Number of pages: 181

Language: English

Rating: 9/10                                           

Link of the book!

Review By: King's Cat

[235uranium]

"3rd sem doesn't fit the theme of p5!" abuse of power and how to change society is quite literally the central theme of p5

[hkunlimited]

Buddhism, Craving, and the Path to Enlightenment…

When you realize that you and your cravings are the cause of most of your problems, then you are on the path to enlightenment. And that’s the Second Noble Truth, more or less, so fundamental to the practice of Buddhism. After all, most Buddhists worldwide don’t meditate, and many physically can’t, but anyone can train their mind. That’s the heart of the Buddha’s original message, not rebirth,…

[ddarker-dreams]

hiya lock!! 💖 what are your thoughts on sunday hsr? i'd love if you wrote something for him someday!

hmmmmmmmmmmmm yandere sunday.... the inbox has made their interest in bird man known. here are some of my initial, basic thoughts:

he's controlling (surprise, surprise) but favors an 'organic' approach over clipping your wings outright. that would be an absolute last resort, prompted by your life being in mortal danger. he wants to help guide you to conclusions he's made long ago. this way, you're less likely to resist a philosophy you've adopted for yourself. it's a given that sentient beings don't want their free will infringed upon. recognizing this, he settles for the more time-consuming approach of overseeing your life from afar and uses direct course correction sparingly.

should you catch on, confronting him directly doesn't lead to an escalation like one might expect. he'll hear you out without twisting your words or using intimidation tactics. once you're finished, he'll present his own argument: haven't you been happier since he's entered your life? he'll acknowledge that 'happiness', qualia that it is, though difficult to measure, can still be tracked. there's a reason he's asked about your emotional state so often. since removing stressors in your life, you've been in higher spirits. isn't that a good thing?

issues such as privacy and autonomy don't do much for him. what good is freedom if it means wandering in the wilderness? isn't it better to be taken care of? hunger, thirst, physical ailments; alleviating these troubles has been at the forefront of civilization's development. this is his all-consuming empathy. it envelops you whole and chains you in place with velvety soft restraints. his sincerity is almost distressing; how can you challenge what he believes is in your best interest?

"a cornered fledgling will struggle against those trying to save it," he'll say. "this struggle is natural; a forgivable instinct. the rescuer must carry on despite this resistance. if they don't, aren't they complicit in whatever misfortune befalls the wounded creature?"

[internetegoist]

Of Shidou Ryusei ; And how his character connects towards sexual trauma

(Content warning: Major mentions of SA/CSA and abuse, minor mentions for NSFW behaviour. Most of them aren't in graphic detail, but please please be wary of it 🙏 There's also spoilers for CSM and A Clockwork Orange)

Shidou's character is one of those that sticks with you throughout the entire series. It feels like we know everything about him, yet there's something so mysterious about his behaviour that makes you wonder, what's with this guy? We know how he acts, his violence and vulgarity injected in his brain and blood, but yet we don't know why he acts the way he is. It is very heavily implied that he went through a sort of restriction, born in a bird cage which he freed himself from through going to Blue Lock, but what is that restriction? What was the bird cage which trapped him? What was it that was holding him back from searching for freedom and exploring the world?

Since then, there's been a large speculation of theories on what his backstory could be. But one of them I want to talk about is about how his backstory is connected to SA, and how he could have experienced it at a young age. At first, I was extremelyyy hesitant to follow it due to how it made me a bit uncomfortable to discuss about, and how I saw a majority of people supporting the theory use it for shock value rather than a chance to devolve into darker topics. Of course, not the case for everyone who supports the theory, just from my own personal experience in the fandom.

But now, I can see the extremely, deeply discomforting vision on how this could be true in a way. From both his favourite manga and movie involving SA as an integral part in the story, to the concerning side of him being slightly revealed in the Egoist Bible. (Eg. crying at the end of the day, when he's feeling nothing or when he's empty, as well as his dislike of gifts)

Due to my heavy interests, I wanted to explore this theory into a more deeper matter. I decided to analyze more of his behaviour, as well as doing some of my own research. I must say, Shidou's behavioral manner can be one that is similar to those of SA survivors, especially male survivors.

Okay okay, enough yapping around. Let me get straight to the point.

Shidou and his instinct's responses

Generally after experiencing sexual abuse, one's entire personality will change. Every behaviour change is different for every sexual abuse survivor. Sometimes they'll isolate themselves more often, sometimes they turn into a much aggressive and violent person. Because the world has failed them, the world is putting them in a place where they are no longer safe and are more vulnerable. Because when your entire sense of self and personal power is taken away by your abuser, you are left with nothing but fear and new survival instincts. Why I bring this up is because Shidou's entire personality is built on instincts. His instant response to even the slightest hint of dislike or threat is to immediately beat them up, no matter who they are. A noteworthy thing to mention is that one of the main responses from males following sexual trauma is anger, because it is more socially acceptable for men to react that way. Attacking someone is the best way of defense, and Shidou follows this way of defense entirely. This also follows up with the stigma with the male ethic of self-reliance, in which help-seeking behaviours can be seen as cowardly or unmasculine.

It's most likely the reason why he also dislikes Kunigami's philosophy of heroes; Considering the fact his entire character is based on wanting to be free from restriction, he must have lived in an environment and/or went through a sort of restriction which influenced his ideals of "I can fend myself, I won't need anyone". The world he has grown up in was nothing but survival against the abuse he went through, so for what purpose should he believe in the principle of a savior, if he himself could have never been saved? It doesn't help either when in real time, there have been many cases where survivors of sexual abuse are either never believed when they speak out about it, or never speak out at all in fear of not being believed.

And besides the fact he uses violence as a defense method, one thing I noticed about Shidou is that during the time he was locked up by Ego for inducing violence onto Rin. We see him, perhaps for the first time, being calm and offering a promise that he'll make sure to stop fighting and hitting others, as long as he is let out of that prison he's trapped in. You see, a common reaction victims will use during the process of the SA is to freeze. To stay silent and still. It's like how animals freeze to avoid fights or further harm to themselves, or play dead in order to prevent getting eaten by predators. Although the outer self may seem to be in a calm state, the inside are on high alert, because they are afraid on what will be their abuser's next moves. The option to fight or run away may seem easy to those who haven't experienced SA, but to the victim it may seem harder than you think. Because freezing is a body's instinct response to abuse, and it'll stay frozen until the abuse is over, it's almost like a human's way of playing dead, so that the assault induced will end sooner. Among the instincts of 'fight, flight, freeze', Shidou seems to use fight the most out of the three. However, when necessary times come necessary measures, Shidou, perhaps for the first time, switches to 'freeze' instead of 'fight'. Not only because he basically, cannot physically fight anyone at that moment, but also because he is afraid. Afraid of being restricted yet again, afraid of not having the chance to live his life, which is to play football. The worst position to be in when you're being hurt or abused is limitation. You can't move, you can't fight, you can't run away from your abuse from happening. Nothing but hope that the abuse happening to you will end soon, that your abuser will stop hurting you. That's exactly what is so terrifying about the freeze responses.

Shidou and his sexual behaviour

If any fan knows anything about Shidou, it's that he's not afraid to speak out what's on his mind, especially lewd and inappropriate words. More or less, this can be connecting to something called hypersexuality. Accordingly, hypersexuality is defined as an intense focus on sexual fantasies, urges and behaviours that can't be controlled. Hypersexuality can not only cause distress, but also problems in school and workplace.

Survivors of sexual abuse cope in one of the two ways: Either by avoiding sexual or intimidate interactions entirely, or seeking said interactions on a large and unhealthy scale. According to this article, a majority of men who suffer from hypersexuality or sex addiction have been either physically or sexually abused in their childhood.

We see Shidou quite literally compare scoring a goal in football, to sexual intercourse. (And also the part where he says he's gonna blow his load, with Sae also dismissing it, but it's just partners supporting each other!)

By now, we know that two things that Shidou is unable to separate from each other is life and football. Both the act of life and the act of playing football is interconnected. Because football is something that allows him to leave a mark, allows him to be known by the world. Because football is a biological phenomenon to him, rather than just a sport.

And yes sure, this is supposed to be a connection to his philosophy of leaving a mark on others, so that you can be remembered. But also remember what he says in his monologue: "Those who create something, those who want to become something, and of course, those who make children." The way humans create life is through intimacy, through intercourse. The two people engaging leave a mark on each other through creating that life, that child.

And while speaking about his monologue of leaving a mark, Shidou also mentions that wounding others are a way of leaving behind a proof of existence. Inducing abuse whether it'd be physical, emotional or sexual, can also be one of the ways to make someone remember you.

The abuser leaves the mark on the victim, the mentioned mark left on them can be seen as PTSD or trauma symptoms.

Abuse is not something you can just simply turn away, forget or overlook. Whether the effects of trauma are short-term or long-term, they are there, they are a proof of existence that it happened. Shidou's inability to separate the physical act of football and the biological act of life's desires, especially sexual desires, can be seen as hypersexuality. Hypersexuality can also be seen as a mark left onto the victim. And it's extremely lengthy to recover and remove those marks left on you.

Of Freedom and Shidou Ryusei

I think Shidou Ryusei and his obsession with freedom is something so interesting about his character, yet so many people tend to ignore it as a significant part of him. Because imagine if one day out of the blue, your entire bodily autonomy gets taken away from you, you're trapped in a cycle of repetitive abuse onto you. When it's finally over and you have control over everything again, the world suddenly feels so utterly different. So what do you do? Of course, cling onto that freedom that is now yours.

Bite any other hand that may seem like it's trying to take it away, because if there is one thing you do not ever want to repeat, it is someone isolating you once more against the world. So hold on tightly to the freedom you now have, and make sure it stays with you for eternity.

All of Shidou's favourite things, his favourite film, manga and song, are also connected to this in a way.

It would take too long for me to get into detail about both Chainsaw Man and A Clockwork Orange, but I want to say that both media and their protagonists have approaches to freedom of life and choice.

In Chainsaw Man, Denji is a child that has been depraved of even the basic of human needs; Just like Shidou, he wants to claim everything in his current life and not return to when he had nothing when he was a child. In A Clockwork Orange, Alexander who in the beginning of the movie has been committing heinous crimes with no one to stop him, is captured and put through inhumane experiments in order to rehabilitate him. His entire freedom is taken away from him and for the next hour, we see him go through immense suffering and torture by those who he had wronged to the point he attempts to commit suicide through jumping off a window. In the end, it doesn't seem like his mindset has changed at all. It makes us question whether or not letting someone be free to do anything they want is the better option even if it hurts others, rather than attempt to isolate them in order to transform them into a better human being.

I would like to talk a little about his favourite artist. For a bit of context, hide is popular for being an icon of rebellion against Japan's conformist society, and one of his songs PINK SPIDER, is listed as Shidou's favourite song according to the official Blue Lock Egoist Bible. I've seen a lot of interpretations of what the song truly means, but the main story is that it's about a spider trapped within and kills anything near it. Because it wishes to free itself away, it steals a butterfly's wings. It attempts to fly, and fails, and tries again. Whether or not the spider did actually succeeded in flying away is unknown to us. But, that's not all!

Around the chapter where Shidou scores a goal, the commenter calls it a 'rocket diving header'. This can lead to one of hide's other songs in the same album as PINK SPIDER, rocket dive; a song with the similar approach of freedom but with different tones. Compared to PINK SPIDER, rocket dive has a more cheerful approach. In the end of the song, the star mentioned in rocket dive successfully flies away and appears as a new shooting star in the sky.

Which brings me to point out something: Shidou Ryusei's birthday is on Tanabata, a type of Japanese celebration called the Star Festival which is celebrated on the seventh day of the seventh month.

His name, Ryusei, is also a homophone for shooting star in Japanese.

Shidou, born as a star on the day where two lover stars meet, yet when he was born, he was not allowed to fly and join the others in the sky.

But he overcame everything, achieved that dream of having the freedom to do whatever he wants. And even though he went through all that pain, all that abuse, and most likely had to learn how to escape by himself through football before Blue Lock, he made it come true, like a spell.

And eventually, he learnt how to fly, and let the world knew who he was.

[senualothbrok]

Open Hands, Open Hearts

Summary: With the Netherbrain defeated and the companions about to go their separate ways, Gale decides to be honest about his feelings for Tav.

A slow burn one-shot, featuring pining Gale, monk Tav, and agony aunt Shadowheart.

Word count: 5.4k

Non-18+. Gale x Tav (f!monk). Pining. Mild hurt/comfort.

AO3 link

A/N: Big thanks to @inglorionamy-ammy for being my beta-reader extraordinaire. I hope you enjoy some slow-burn pining and reflections on the philosophy of non-attachment. As always, comments and feedback are welcome!

She stands apart.

She cannot see you watching her. She swirls an untasted drink, her gaze drifting over the bustling merriment of the weaving crowd. You are memorising the curves of her face, illuminated in the glow of the bonfire. The gossamer scar on her left cheek, and the lilting arc of her nose. The weather-worn dips of her skin. Amidst the clatter of trenchers and shouts of laughter, she wears a faint smile like a veil. As usual, she is lost in a world of her own. 

It had been you who suggested celebrating your victory against the Netherbrain with drinks in your hands and reckless abandon in your hearts. You had been swept up in the elation of the moment, the flurry of embraces from your companions, all grins and clasped shoulders. The dizzying promise of freedom as you clutched the mark of the orb on your chest. Tav had nodded at you, smiling brightly, her dark eyes glimmering before she looked away. She had maintained her customary reserve, as she does now, as she has done at all the parties and gatherings since this journey began.

Tav has always worn her hair in a tight bun, as though any concession to beauty would be a distraction. But tonight, obsidian locks tumble over her shoulders like the feathers of a raven. Against the hard muscles of her frame, her tresses look impossibly soft. You wonder, not for the first time, how they would feel against your lips.

You throw back the wine in your glass. 

“Enjoying the view?” 

You spin towards Shadowheart’s dulcet drawl. She smirks before taking a sip of wine, then wrinkles her nose in disgust. 

“I hope it makes up for this disappointing vintage. I suppose even the heroes of Baldur’s Gate don’t deserve the best wine in the cellars.”

You shift along the bench, making space for her. “Alas, beggars can’t be choosers. We’re remarkably fortunate there are any wine cellars left, all things considered.”

Shadowheart huffs as she sinks down beside you. Her voice is light with affection. 

“Ever the optimist, aren’t you?”

You titter, setting your empty glass on the ground. “I auditioned for the role of pragmatist, but you'd scooped that up already.”

Her eyes dance. You can sense the intensity of Shadowheart’s appraisal as she looks from you to Tav. She clears her throat.

“I don’t mean to be blunt, Gale,” she begins.

You arch an eyebrow. “Don’t you?”

“Well.” She sighs. “Maybe I do.”

You are all immeasurably tired, not just from your adventures, but from the lives you have led. The battles you have endured, together and alone. You can forgive any directness on Shadowheart’s part. You have grown accustomed to it, after all - maybe even fond of it. 

“You do realise that after tonight, we might never see each other again?” 

You baulk at this. You almost make a reflexive joke to dismiss it - that you are looking forward to being spared Astarion’s cutting remarks, or the overpowering evidence of Minsc’s poor hygiene. But sorrow quivers in Shadowheart's brow. You realise that the thought is anguish to her too. 

“Of course we will,” you manage. “Bonds forged in blood aren't so easily severed.”

Shadowheart stares at you. There is a heaviness in her eyes that makes you look away.

“If we do, who knows how long it’ll be before our paths cross again.”

You are reminded of your hasty farewells on the docks. You still half expect Wyll to appear beside you with a chuckle. A hearty slap on the back from Karlach. A solemn hum from Lae'zel. Their absence is a living, breathing thing that simmers between you. 

You wave your hand weakly, an attempt at dismissal. But the determination in Shadowheart's features arrests you.

“If you have important things to say to her, Gale, you should say them now.”   

You frown, backfooted. “What could I possibly have to say to our fearless leader that I haven't already said in the many months we've enjoyed together?”

Shadowheart snorts. “Come now, Gale. You're many things, but you're not subtle.”

You try to feign ignorance, but it does not deter her.

“I’d have to be blind not to catch all those longing looks and stolen glances, or notice the purple wash of your tent on lonely nights.”

You start in your seat. Fire blazes up your neck, burning in your cheeks, smouldering in your ears. You gape, resisting the urge to bury your face in your robes. 

Shadowheart chortles, patting you briskly on the shoulder. “Not to worry. We're all mature adults.”

You cough. At a loss, you fumble at your breeches, wringing your hands. You wonder if it would be unconscionably rude to misty step away from this conversation altogether. 

Amusement crinkles in Shadowheart's gaze. There is tenderness there. All at once, you are reminded that every moment left with your companions, however mortifying, is precious. And perhaps it was foolish to expect such things to remain hidden, living in close quarters as you have been, forever teetering on the precipice between life and death. You have all been stripped bare with each other.

In the end, it has been an honour. To know and be known, after an eternity of being alone.

You would not usually discuss the matters of the heart so openly. But Shadowheart is right. Who knows how long you have left? 

You clear your throat, your gaze returning to Tav like an anchor. She is crouched now, ruffling Scratch’s dusty fur intently as he nestles into her. You steady yourself.

“That ship sailed long ago, Shadowheart. In fact, it didn't just sail. It arrived at its location and returned a few times over.”

It still pains you to admit it. Pathetic, you know. You have tried, in vain, to rid yourself of your feelings. It was easier, with the constant threats to your existence, the relentless fight for survival. There was always some danger to distract you from that gnawing ache. Now, with the joy of victory, you are left with the suffering of wasted love.

What a sad, sorry thing.  

Shadowheart grimaces. “Yet you’re still waiting at the docks.” 

You stare at her, questioning. Once again, she sighs. 

“Tav’s a monk, Gale. An incredibly committed one. She was trained to deny every single desire she has. To sacrifice her every need for the greater good. You know that, right?”

She stresses every word, like it is a secret code. You strain against her meaning. 

She grizzles. “You have no idea? None at all? Truly?”

You suddenly sense where this is going. And truthfully, there was a time when you had wondered. You remember standing beside Tav, so close you could smell the tang of her sweat, the Weave flowing between you, making you one. Awe radiated from her, her vision lit up by the miracle of a magic that was not Ki, cocooning her in an altogether different kind of peace. In the purity of that instant, you were overcome by a longing to be closer. You let your eyes soak in every inch of her, the perfect balance of her body, the softness within her hardness. So much strength, always wielded in kindness, never for cruelty. So much power, always wielded for life, never for death.

You wanted to understand, then. The Way of the Open Hand, and all its tenets she held so dear. The mystery of her, in all her quiet glory. The secret behind her unwavering goodness. The resilience of her peace. Such tranquility, such certainty of purpose. Such a far cry from the rot inside you, the crushing burden of your mistakes. 

She is beautiful, you thought, knowing she would feel your thinking of it.

When the image first came to you, you struggled to parse it. The fluttering of her cut and calloused fingers over the bristles of your beard. The warmth of her bruised skin against your own. The quiver of her plump and parted lips, searching for and finding yours. A swirling wet desire, raw and piercing. 

When you realised what it was, you gasped. You stepped back. She withdrew too, her dark eyes averted, her face shadowed and unreadable. And then the connection had broken, and as you felt the Weave dissolve into the hollow night, a silence descended on you like a flood. 

Perhaps you had imagined it. She could not have felt such a thing. The desire had been so intense, so sharp, like the grasping thrust of a blade. It could not have belonged to someone whose hands were always open, whose entire being was steadfast as still waters that had never seen a storm. She was a master of the Way, a seeker of Enlightenment. She lived like she had surpassed the passions of the heart and flesh. 

You had planned to forget it. Ignore it. Pretend it never happened. But the image stirred something inside you, hot and red and hungry. It grew with every brush of her fingers as you traded tomes and scrolls, every flicker of her curious eyes when you shared musings great and small. Every evening lounging beside her as she meditated, cloaked in a peace that transcended words. 

But when you had confessed to her on that fateful night, beneath the canopy of beauty and wonder you had conjured in her honour, she had turned away. She had whispered a choked apology, her brow twisted like never before. For the first time, shame and guilt trembled in her features as she retreated. 

That had been the end of it. For Tav, perhaps, but not for you.

Shadowheart narrows her eyes. “So you didn't find it strange to see the calmest, most courteous woman in all of Faerun lashing out at Elminster Aumar, the most respected wizard in all the realms?”

You frown. It is true. Tav had been unusually animated, maybe even a little brusque, when Elminster had asked you to sacrifice yourself. You had chalked it down to pragmatism, weariness, maybe. An inordinately long day, or a torturously sleepless night. You did not have the presence of mind to reflect on Tav’s reaction, anyway, in the midst of your own devastation.

“Even paragons of virtue aren't immune to the short fuse of fatigue,” you suggest. “And cheese can wreak havoc on one’s digestive system, particularly in the amounts we consumed that evening. In fact, on more than one occasion, troubles in my breadbasket have led me to some rather disgraceful outbursts to Tara-”

Shadowheart groans. “Are you telling me that Tav disrespected the Sage of Shadowdale because she was a bit tired and had too much cheese?”

You swallow. Resolve clenches in her jaw in the awkward pause that follows. She tries again.

“You never wondered whose idea it was for me to make you all those special remedies, to take the edge off your orb pain?”

You scratch your head. “Was this a question I ought to have asked?” You are confused. “Should I have doubted your kindness and generosity?”

“Your faith in me is flattering,” Shadowheart drawls. “But we were practically strangers back then. I would have needed some incentive. Tav didn't. Your existence was incentive enough.”

A memory assails you. The aftermath of your defeat of Ketheric Thorm, when Tav was forced to draw on your ingenious resurrection protocol. Her juddering breaths as she leaned over your bleeding body. The anguished panic in her eyes. The muffled sound she made as you revived, lurching towards you and then flinching away. Her face impenetrable, her chest heaving as she withdrew. 

No. It cannot be. 

You shake your head. “You've misunderstood, Shadowheart. Tav cares for all of us. Everyone, indiscriminately and in equal measure.”

‘To walk the Path of Enlightenment,’ Tav had said when you asked her what she desired above all else. ‘To defend the weak and defenseless.’  If Tav loved anything, it was that grand purpose. There was no room for anything, anyone, else. 

“I certainly don't hold a special place in her heart. Far from it. When I…” You grimace, sweeping your hand through your hair. “Well, she set me straight in no uncertain terms. Whatever feelings you imagine she harbours for me are confined to the bonds of simple friendship, nothing more.” 

Shadowheart sucks in a breath. She looks up, as if she is appealing to the heavens for strength.

“I never thought an archwizard could be such a fool.” 

You bristle. “An archwizard would have little tolerance for unwarranted displays of discourtesy.”

At your reaction, she softens. For an instant, she looks almost sheepish. Leaning back, she gestures towards Tav. Tav is cross legged now, her head tilted upwards, seeking the stars overhead. She had marvelled, too, at the azure sky you created for her, as though every constellation you crafted carried the wisdom she so craved. 

“Do you know how hard it is to make Tav laugh?” 

There is a wistfulness in Shadowheart’s tone. A kind of recognition. You remember that she knows the struggle for joy better than most, having spent most of her life cloistered in darkness and loss. You wonder, vaguely, whether that is so different from being cloistered in the confines of virtue.

“Not that polite smile,” she goes on. “Or that little nod she does. A real laugh, like she truly feels it.”

You know. You store each peal of Tav’s laughter within you like a priceless treasure. You have beheld each occasion as a miracle, a fleeting glimpse behind the veil.

“It's a rare and beautiful sight.”

“It is.” Shadowheart holds your gaze. “And she only does it for you. Your awful puns, and what you think passes for witty observations. Your unnecessarily detailed anecdotes.”

Something is unfurling inside you. Fear and courage, swirling into something swollen that throbs with every pulse of your heart. You struggle to keep still. 

“Please just talk to her,” Shadowheart says. “Consider it a favour to me, so I don’t have to spend the rest of the night watching you drinking bad wine and pining miserably.”

You recoil. “Excuse me, but I don't pine. Pining is not something I do. In fact, I most certainly-”

“Yes, yes.” She rolls her eyes. “You don't pine, and Tav is an open book. You're both paragons of healthy communication.” She swigs her wine, pursing her pale lips in distaste. “I don't even know why you're still talking to me, at this point.” 

You huff. Turning slowly, your eyes seek Tav’s across the expanse. A strand of hair trails over her collarbone, caressing the peak of her breast. She dips her head gently towards you.

Who knows how long you have left?

You slap your knees, take a shaky breath, and rise.

******

“How does it compare?”

Her eyes are burnt almonds framed by butterfly lashes. The firelight draws out the sun-kissed olive of her skin. It has a warmth that burns within you even in her absence.  As you approach her, she bows slightly. 

You point upwards. “The celestial canvas,” you explain. “The real thing. How does it fare against my earnest imitation?”

You have never spoken of that night, not even to mention it in passing. After her retreat, you were too desperate to salvage whatever remained between you. Any bond with her, any friendship, was worth more than kingdoms, even if you could not win her love. 

But tonight, with Shadowheart's words reverberating in your mind, you feel brave. Reckless. Inexpressibly grateful. And now that you have come to the end of the road, what more do you have to lose? You may never see her again. This may be your last chance.

Something flickers on Tav’s face. You cannot quite place it. 

“The art reveals the artist, and the creation the creator, as you told me before.”

Her words are so soft, you must dip forward to catch them. The petals of her mouth curve into a smile.

“Nothing could rival the beauty of a night sky wrought by your hands.” 

You remember that conversation well, but you did not think she would. It was only one of hundreds you have shared. For a second, you let yourself indulge in the fantasy that she cherishes your words with the same passion and reverence with which you treasure hers. You let yourself imagine that her words carry an affection which mirrors your own. 

But Tav speaks in formalities, riddles and proverbs. Her true feelings remain, as always, a mystery.

You listen to the rhythm of her breathing. Though even, there is a laboured focus in her breaths, as though she is forcing her intention. You recall an evening when you had sat beside her for a lesson in meditation. You had been lost in her closeness, her earthy scent, the supple arcs of her relaxed form. 

‘In times of turmoil, we return to our breathing,” she had explained. ‘The breath is an anchor. A reminder that all is temporary. Every burden, every struggle, every blessing. All is dust, and all will pass.’

Does she seek relief from turmoil now, you wonder? What burden strains against her breathing? What load does she struggle to lay down?

She shuffles a little. You gesture towards a bench nearby. She drifts towards it, her hand grazing yours as you both sit. She does not shift away. 

“So.” You fiddle with the edge of your robe. “Where does your path lead now?” 

She looks towards the bonfire. “My duty will be to return to the Order in Neverwinter.”

“Your duty.”

She nods. “It is what is expected for a monk of my position.”

“I see.” You study the stillness of her features in profile, impassive as ever. “And is that your desire?” 

She turns towards you briefly, but does not meet your eyes. Her gaze returns to the sparkling canopy above, as if the distant stars steel her soul. 

“I have always seen the monastery as my home. I know it does not serve, to cling to the idea of a home. We must be adaptable to change, to move where the Way takes us. And on this journey we have shared, I have seen and learned more than I ever would, had I remained in the monastery. Immeasurably more.” 

She draws in a long breath.

“And I would be deceitful if I said that I would not…miss….this.”

Her focus falls on the living tapestry before you, swathed in the music of joy and celebration. Astarion's fanged grin, returned wryly by Shadowheart. Minsc’s booming guffaw as Boo twirls in his palm. Jaheira’s lively gestures to a chuckling Halsin.

It is unmistakable. For an instant, Tav’s mask slips, and you see sorrow, tender and true. You had wondered if she felt the pain of parting, having always kept herself at a distance. Now, you are certain that she does.   

Without thinking, you reach for her hand. Then you catch yourself. Your fingers hover above hers.

“It doesn’t have to be goodbye.” Your voice quavers. “It would be…a great loss to me, to lose the honour of your company. A very great loss indeed.”

Her brow steeples as she looks into your eyes. Then her features tremble, her hand jerking into her lap. You retract yours briskly. 

There is a long pause. It feels like a misstep, an intrusion. A boundary you have crossed, as you had when you bared your soul to her beneath your northern lights. Mentally, you curse yourself, fretting and fumbling for an escape. And yet, you cannot ignore the tension that hangs in the air between you. The murmur of something you do not recognise, peering out from the depths.

When she speaks, you do not expect it. 

“My Masters taught me to eschew attachment. Desire.” 

She halts at the word, as though it is an admission that shames her. 

“We are to alleviate suffering, wherever we find it. Desire and attachment do not serve…”

Her voice breaks. You have never heard that before. She has always been so sure, her speech always level and calculated, echoing her constancy. You are overwhelmed, not just by a yearning to understand, but to comfort.

“They are a distraction, then,” you say. “From your purpose.”

She averts her eyes. Her sigh is weary - a weariness that has always been subsumed by her stoic exterior.   

“Everything is temporary,” she breathes. “Nothing endures.”

She closes her eyes. You watch as she lifts her hands, turning her palms up towards the constellations. 

“We are taught to live with open hands. To let all things flow through us, and never to be tethered to the current. So it is with every privilege, every gift, every… person… that comes our way.”

She opens her eyes, staring into the space above her fingers. 

“If I do not grasp it tightly, when it goes, there is no pain.”

She balls her hands into fists.

“If I hold fast to it, when I lose it, I mourn.” 

Her brow knits.

“It does not serve.”

She looks down, her hands returning to rest on her thighs. 

“Attachment only brings loss. Desire only brings pain. Everything is temporary. Nothing endures.”

The realisation is a lightning bolt that pierces you. The answer to the puzzle of her detachment. The reason for her ceaseless distance. Why she has always held back from your merry band of companions, avoiding connections beyond superficial courtesy. You see it now, as clear and certain as her kindness. It is not just a habit, the preference of an introvert more comfortable with solitude than companionship. It is not just a setting aside of distractions for the pursuit of a grand purpose. 

It is a fear of loss. Abandonment. Grief.

All this time, she has been protecting herself. The revelation fills you with a desperate urgency. 

“Does desire always beget suffering?” There is pleading in your voice. “Can attachment not be a source of wonder, beauty, goodness?”

She is taken aback by your abruptness. In this moment, you wish you still had a tadpole, so you could show her without words. You wish you could reveal how your bond gave you a reason to live when you thought there was none. How she gave you hope when you thought the only meaning to be salvaged from your life was through your death. How she brought the dawn in what you believed was an endless night.

“Your friendship, your kindness - they kept us all alive,” you say instead. “Our attachments were a source of strength. They alleviated our suffering, they never compounded it.”

You know it would be easier not to love her. If you had no attachment to her. You would not yearn for her like a lost part of yourself. There would be no agony of wanting, no suffering within your solitude. But then you would not know the wonder of her nature. The light of her laughter. The balm of her goodness and grace, unwavering as the sunrise. You would not trade them for anything, not even freedom from pain.

She is quiet, her head bowed. An ebony curtain falls around her face. You know the weight of what you are asking her to consider. But you cannot bear to see unnecessary suffering, especially not in the woman you cherish above any other.

“Is it actually possible?” you ask. “To never forge a bond with another? To remain…forever empty-handed?”

Determination hardens in her eyes as she lifts her head. 

“It is a path. I strive to reach the destination. It is a great struggle. A journey without end.” She straightens, her frame tensing. “Perhaps I am too weak and wretched to achieve it. But I must make myself worthy. Every day, I try harder.”

You stare at her in disbelief. “You are the kindest, wisest, most patient person that I know. You give of yourself without asking anything in return. You saved the world,” you gesture to your bustling companions within the throng, “each and every one of us.”

When you try to hold her shifting gaze, all you see is doubt.

“You don’t see it, do you?” You resist the urge to clasp her by the shoulders. “You’re extraordinary, just the way you are.”

She shakes her head. “I am like any other soul on the Path to Enlightenment.” 

You do not allow her to avert her eyes. “No, Tav. You're much, much more than that.”

“Gale.” Her brow creases. “There are many, many more important things to consider than…my own selfish doubts and desires.”

You can see the mask returning to her features. That impenetrable fortress of sagely Tav, a vessel of virtue without self. You have come too far to return to the facade now. 

“What of your own suffering?”

Confusion twists in her face. But the truth is a tide that rushes from you, and you cannot stop it.

“What of the joy you forfeit as you watch from the sidelines? The loneliness you carry as you stand apart, shirking companionship? Denying your own desires, crushing your attachments - surely that begets a suffering of its own?”

She turns away. Anxiety flares within you. Perhaps you have gone too far. It is too much for her. You begin to wrench at yourself. You have pushed her back into her shell, an armour against hurts that you will never know. In your folly and impatience, you have lost her.  In the silence, you mourn.

And then, a confession.

“My parents gave me to the Masters when I was a babe,” she whispers. “The Way is all I know. All I have.”

You spin towards her. The torment of memory lingers in every fibre of her frame. You understand her in a way you never have before. She is a woman without a family, forever apart. She is a door cracking open now, allowing you entry.  You leap through it.

“Not so.” You lean towards her. “You have me.”

Fear roils in the black sea of her eyes. You know what you are asking. You are asking her to trust in a love that could endure the vicissitudes of life, the foibles of human lack, the everyday tragedies from which no one is spared. You are asking her to lay down every tool she has wielded, every defence she has erected against the loss that trails behind her like a shadow. 

You are asking her to trust you.

“I know I speak out of turn.” Your voice swells. “I know you’ve made it clear that there’s no place for me in your heart. But I can’t remain silent, after all we’ve been through, knowing there’s any inkling of a chance that I might not lose you forever. I can’t remain silent, when there’s a chance that I could relieve you of the burdens that you carry alone.”

She is shaking now. You can almost feel the reverberations. But she is still here, still listening. It gives you strength to go on.

“I cherish you, Tav. It's beyond desire. Beyond attachment. More than admiration, infatuation, or lust. I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. To me, you’re perfect. There’s no one like you. There never has been, and never will be.”

You can hear a catch in her breathing. She has frozen still, so still, as if she would crack if you touched her. Your words are broken and tattered, but you do not stop.

“I can’t promise that I won’t age or die. That I won’t change, as everyone and everything in life does. But I promise that I will love you for as long as I draw breath. I promise that my love for you will endure. And I promise to walk the Way with you. I will never abandon you. You need not walk alone.”

Her eyes widen as she clasps her palm to her lips. You hold your heart out like an offering before her open hands. Your chest heaves as you wait, trying desperately to parse her silence. 

She turns away, lurching upwards, retreating into the night.

Her withdrawal wounds you like a blade to the gut. A muffled cry escapes you as you watch her receding back. 

It is over. 

The tears scald your skin as they fall. You wince through the rending of your heart. But amidst the fracturing, waves of gratitude ripple through you. To have beheld the glory of her, to have earnestly loved her in the stolen moments you shared, however fleeting - it was the privilege of a lifetime. An honour which will endure beyond the anguish of love’s passing. You are sure of it.

It takes you a moment to register it. She has stopped in her tracks. Her body, usually as elegant as the wind’s caress, judders as she turns back to face you. Through the mist of your grief, you see that her eyes are glistening with tears. You bound towards her, distressed beyond measure. It is the first time you have seen her cry.

She does not speak. In the waterfall that cascades down her scarred cheek, the throbbing ache in her gaze, you see an emotion that needs no words.

You surge forwards. You are so close that you can smell the jasmine notes of her hair, feel the spasm of her breath against your collarbone. You take her quivering hands and press them against your beard. Her eyelids flutter, but she does not pull away. You whirl with surprise, relief, elation, yearning - a thousand feelings you can name and more that you cannot.

“I have tried,” she chokes. “With everything I have…for so long I have tried. But I could not…”

Her words are torn whispers, panting breaths. Her fingers grasp at your bristles, dancing into your hair. Her touch is dizzying, lithe and earnest, tracing every part of you. You draw your fingers up the dip of her neck, cupping her cheeks as you have longed to so many times before.

“You don’t need to anymore.” 

Her skin feels as you have always imagined it - firm, smooth and warm. As you brush her tears away, she falls into you, and you catch her parted lips with your own. Her mouth is wet and hot, and she tastes of spring flowers and salt musk. You gasp at the pulse of her tongue, the hard heat of her body flush against yours. Her desire rips through you as keenly as your own, a whirlpool of love and longing which holds you fast.

She is everything you ever dreamed of and more.

You are not sure how long you remain wrapped up in each other, clutching, tasting, searching and finding. Hoots and hollers begin to reach your ears, familiar voices, teasing and congratulatory. You tear away from each other, foreheads pressed together, swaying breathlessly in a stupor. With her crimson cheeks and half-lidded eyes, her lips swollen from desire, it takes all the resolve within you not to whisk her away to your bedroom. 

You must steady yourself. You know that you must tread slowly. Love is a brave new world for her, and there are a thousand nights ahead of you.

“There’s a monastery in Waterdeep,” you say eventually.

Through halting breaths, she struggles for words. It is intoxicating, to see Tav’s unyielding stoicism dissolve into her need for you. You have never felt so powerful. You plant a trail of kisses from her forehead to her chin. She nibbles at your earlobe, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“The Monastery of The Sun,” she murmurs after a while. “Notorious for heresy. I have always wanted to see whether the controversy is well-founded.”

You take her hands in yours. You swallow, the last remnants of apprehension churning within you.

“Would you return with me to…”

She looks at you, wide-eyed and curious as always. A smile breaks on your lips. You know, then, that there is nothing more to fear.

“Would you allow me to take you there?” 

In your tumultuous life, you have seen many things. You have beheld the singular beauty of the Outer Plains, the unparalleled majesties of your home city, manifold vistas of nature’s bounty. But nothing compares to what you see before you now. 

Joy, plain and pure, beams in every line and curve of Tav’s features. A chord of laughter bursts from her, crisp as birdsong. She radiates with love. 

She kisses your hands, then cradles them against her heart. 

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”  *****

Liked this fic? Check out my other work.

[philosophybits]

Before Kant, an inquiry into "the nature and origin of knowledge" had been a search for privileged inner representations. With Kant, it became a search for the rules which the mind had set up for itself (the "Principles of the Pure Understanding"). This is one of the reasons why Kant was thought to have led us from nature to freedom. Instead of seeing ourselves as quasi-Newtonian machines, hoping to be compelled by the right inner entities and thus to function according to nature's design for us, Kant let us see ourselves as deciding (noumenally, and hence unconsciously) what nature was to be allowed to be like. Kant did not, however, free us from Locke's confusion between justification and causal explanation, the basic confusion contained in the idea of a "theory of knowledge."

Richard Rorty, Philosophy and the Mirror of Nature

[mclennie]

In this post, I talk a bit about how Gaul and Lucy Gray embody the philosophy of Hobbes and Rosseau, respectively, but let's talk about Locke and Sejanus.

Sejanus talks about the role of government, telling his Capitol-born classmates and Dr. Gaul that Panem's government is supposed to be everyone's government (tbosas 92). He lets everyone know that he despises the Hunger Games and thinks making children fight to the death is morally reprehensible.

In Locke's Second Treatise of Government, he writes that there are certain rights that we're all born with that can't be taken away. They can be boiled down to life, liberty, and property.

If they sound familiar, that's because a version of these was added to the Declaration of Independence. However, in that document, it's known as "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Locke's ideas were revolutionary when published and later inspired the founding fathers, who were very much into enlightenment ideas such as these.

In Panem, these ideas seem revolutionary as well. We get the impression in the original series and even in the prequel that the Capitol pretends to treat all citizens fairly. Still, it seldom does, especially if you're district-born. In Sejanus's argument against the games, he says the Capitol has no right to take away the life and freedom of district-born children. Sejanus says:

"Winning a war doesn't give you that right. Having more weapons doesn't give you that right. Being from the Capitol doesn't give you that right. Nothing does," (tbosas 160).

In fact, this violation of the district's rights by the Capitol likely propels Sejanus into joining the rebels. Locke says that we operate under a social contract, where the government enforces and protects the people's natural rights, but if they break their end of the deal, the people must rebel.

Sejanus says Gem of Panem has the lyrics "you give us light," making no distinction between Capitol-born and district-born citizens. Unfortunately, the Capitol doesn't see it the same way, focusing on their perceived superiority over the districts and punitive measures to keep them in line.

Sejanus's view that Panem's government should exist to protect a person's rights goes against Gaul's (and later Snow's) view of dominance through control.

[its-gettin-weird]

"Both Lye of Gourmet, Roy of Bizarre Eating! Know absolu~tely nothing! From one to the next, thoughtlessly unbridledly eating messily like a bunch of idiots...... For our sake, who are locked up here and don't have the freedom to choose? Don't make us laugh, hopeless siblings ~tsu!"

I literally had no idea what to do for the gluttony trio, but I did know that I wanted them to have matching outfits because (I assume) they’re triplets and I thought it would be cute :) I made their outfits similar to Rui’s in canon outfit, with some elements of the three great demon beasts that each of them respectively represent (their ‘animals’ are also represented in their soul gems!) . Where Lye’s shawl comes together looks like a whale’s tail + the whale on his back, Rui’s bunnies on her socks, and Roy’s scarf being like a snake and his weapon being like snake fangs. Their weapons are a variation on the traditional witch cult dagger that Lye typically uses, but each of them have different kinds of knives: Lye has a corner tang wrist knife (because in his canon outfit his knives are tied to his hands), Roy has a pika knife meant to resemble snake fangs, and Rui has a push dagger that looks the most like the witch cult daggers. I gave them color schemes based on their eyes, so I decided to make Roy more yellow-green because of how his eyes are depicted in the light novel as yellow and green. I also made Rui’s skin tone slightly darker to make her look a bit more like her brothers but still standing out / kind of different.

The authority from a wish doc says that Rui’s wish is ‘to become happy’ and ‘to go outside’, but doesn’t really expand on what the boys’ wishes would be, and Rui’s whole situation with being stuck in the Corridor of Memories so she wouldn’t have a physical soul gem is confusing to navigate in this au, especially since I haven’t read the novels yet. So for now what I’m going to say is that the boys wished to be able to make Rui happy by getting her other people’s memories according to their own philosophies (Lye quality, Roy quantity), and the wish Rui would make would be to go outside and that’s how she would get into the physical world like she does in the novels. I still think that she would have her ‘authority’ though because of her brothers’ wishes and would still be able to possess them.

[herwrittenuniverse]

The Dragon Prince's "Mercy" Motif

TDP Fam, this is so fascinating.

I made this post about the connection between two characters' names. Nothing is coincidental in this show. The creators have things mapped out for future seasons.

🚨Spoilers below! 🚨

We know this arc is called The Mystery of Aaravos, and so far - in the show, anyway - he does appear more malevolent than benevolent, using characters as pawns (Viren, Callum, Claudia) to achieve his means (freedom). He was one of the Great Ones, but he lost privilege and title, becoming known as The Fallen Star. It was revealed that he's been behind wars, manipulating leaders for centuries, and so he was locked away because he was too dangerous. (If you're reading this, you've seen the show and know all of this.)

Now...E1S6 (which was previewed at NYCC) opens with a conversation between him and another Startouch Elf. He's distraught - it's the first time we've ever seen Aaravos showing such incredibly desperate emotions. (As I've mentioned, he's being painted as a sympathetic character.)

First, you wanna make a bet these statues depict the very scene featured in S1E6?

It's too perfect.

Now, this elf is called The Merciful One. As I pointed out in my other post, there is another character that is associated with mercy. You guessed it:

Her story is literally called The Queen's Mercy and one of the many titles bestowed upon her (if you read the story) is Queen Aditi, the Merciful. (I've already done the math in this post here.)

Now, why is this so fascinating?

Mercy, by definition, is compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm. (Thanks dictionary.com.) But as we know from reading The Queen's Mercy, Aditi isn't merciful at all. She's cunning. Kim'dael goes to Aditi seeking sanctuary. What does she get in return? A Mercy Debt.

Could this be considered merciful? I mean...she did not banish or harm Kim'dael. But she's trapped eternally, and literally owes her life. Kim'dael is a villainous character, no doubt - but that is not compassion or forgiveness. (Whether or not she deserves it is a different conversation.)

Now let's go back to Aaravos and the Merciful One, shall we?

If you look the images, Aaravos is clearly distraught, and yet the Merciful One appears calm, cool, collected. We can assume he's...well, granting mercy.

By what? Imprisoning Aaravos? This could very well be the moment he is imprisoned.

But is it true compassion? Is it true forgiveness? Or is it, "I'm granting you something in my power because - even though it seems wrong to you - it's for the greater good." I could see Startouch Elf philosophy being cold and factual, distant and matter-of-fact - leaving no room for matters of the heart or emotions. (Doesn't this elf reference that Aaravos is in this position because of love [and I suspect has something to do with Leola]? If someone can get me their exact quote, that would be fantastic.)

This opens up a really interesting conversation regarding the term 'mercy' - because what I think is happening here is that there are two characters in power (The Merciful One and Queen Aditi) who are technically granting 'mercy' (although I am only hypothesizing based on the new Startouch Elf's name), and yet it is not at all merciful to the character. It's almost as if they're both saying, "Yeah, this sucks for you right now, but it's going to be better off for everyone else in the end." Kim'dael is 'imprisoned' by the Mercy Debt. Aaravos is literally imprisoned.

I mean, Kim'dael is in the same position as Aaravos' statue in the Sea of the Castout.

I don't think this is a coincidence. I think both of these things will come back to bite our beloved Dragang. They are the ones who have to deal with the consequences, after all.

Did they deserve this treatment? For Kim'dael - I'm leaning towards yes, she is clearly a villain and has done horrific things.

And...we know that Aaravos has something to do with Aditi's disappearance.

But did Aaravos deserve this - imprisonment?

Now that is yet to be seen. And I have a feeling S6 will leave us all questions more than answers.

[beigepear]

saturn in bungou stray dogs

saturn is a malefic (strict and uncomfortable), masculine planet, ruling capricorn and aquarius. being the last visible planet, saturn is all about boundaries, limits, and containment. in a personal chart it signifies areas where the native might be restricted.

in a very literal, extreme sense of it, saturn is handcuffs, chains, shackles, and this exact imagery is very present in bsd. atsushi is being literally nailed down and locked. it's also his tiger that's being restricted and locked down; and then, atsushi being out of the orphanage, there is a discernable boundary between him and byakko that he is yet to overstep.

dazai is also repeatedly shown restricted—handcuffed, attached to a wall, immobilized, imprisoned. he seems to be thriving in containment, he uses it, expects it, provokes it. he's playful with saturn all throughout the narrative, and it's reflected in the way he views life. what is the ultimate restriction if not death? death contains the freedom of being, and dazai seeks it, just like at times he seeks literal containment in order to realize his plans.

there is also a connection between saturn and being deceitful and manipulative, it's a communicative restriction that is also used by bsd characters a lot, either in order to survive or to reap a benefit.

saturn is the only planet with rings, and restrictive things are often circular. think handcuffs. or wedding rings. it makes me think of dazai's bandages—a literal barrier between his skin and the world, entwining him, like second skin. skin, functionally, is saturnian, because it contains our organs, muscles, and bones. if there is a boundary, there is a reason for it.

saturnian limitations can also be associated with poverty, hunger, and being orphaned. the influence of this type of limitation can vary in a personal chart. a well-behaved saturn makes a person aware of their fate—they recognize how unlucky they've been and they try to make best with what they've been dealt. a less functional saturn can make its native stingy, cynical, and envious. in both cases, people afflicted by saturn are extremely aware of reality. they have never worn rose-colored glasses, they will never be able to.

in a way, one of saturnian themes is doing your best in a chaotic world, therefore, in less extreme cases, saturn is about things that contain chaos, like moral, ethical, and legal restrictions. in bsd, morality is one of the essential themes, and it's contained in legal structures that disagree, clash with each other, but need each other nonetheless.

moral duty is saturnian, and kunikida's philosophy is one of the examples of this theme in bsd. his ideals let him restrain the harrowing chaos of life, and he feels obligated to act on them, otherwise he would be too aware of the world crashing and burning around him. in a way, he's similar to dazai in how they both embrace the saturn of it all, but dazai is more nihilistic about it, while kunikida is deliberately saturning his way through life.

it's interesting and meaningful that kunikida used to be a teacher, because teaching, mastery, and apprenticeship are huge for saturn. it's about tradition and continuity. the dynamic between a mentor and a mentee is omnipresent in bsd. saturn is often associated with father figures and authority figures, and the discipline imposed by them is not always pleasant. the moon is caring, it facilitates growth by giving, but saturn refines you by imposing rules and limitations. when dazai disciplines akutagawa, he's a saturnian figure. saturn doesn't care if you like him, saturn cares if you respect him. when there's a boundary needed, dazai quickly becomes restrictive about atsushi's emotions too.

it's compelling that bsd takes place in a seaport city. water is a natural border, and in greco-roman tradition it was believed that saturn also rules water bodies, ports, and trade. it's also interesting that we first see dazai after his attempt to drown, because drowning is very saturnian—they say that mars is dying in a fire, saturn is dying by drowning. of illnesses, it's said that saturn is responsible for those that arise from coldness and moisture.

another little thing about saturn: some astrologers believe it patronizes clowns. it sounds silly, but it makes a lot of sense when you think about it. as saturn deals with social restrictions and common sense, it patronizes everything and everyone that dances on the border of socially acceptable—the marginalized, the mad; holy fools and clowns. a clown is something between a birthday party and terror. clowns are funny because they rebel against common sense; clowns are terrifying because they rebel against common sense. of course, the first connection i make is gogol, and his aquarian perception of reality. sometimes your common sense aligns with the acceptable social paradigm, then you're lucky. and sometimes it doesn't align at all, then you're revolutionary or an outcast or both.

this reminds me of irl!dazai's quote that also reflects a lot about bsd!dazai: "as long as i can make them laugh, it doesn't matter how, i'll be alright. if i succeed in that, the human beings probably won't mind it too much if i remain outside their lives."

the ultimate lesson of the planet of saturn is about fate. destiny is jupitarian, it's the direction you're growing in. fate is saturnian, it's the cards you've been dealt, it's a car that can't be uncrashed. saturn teaches you about the limits of the world around you and of your own psyche, and then it poses a question: if it's hard and painful and unlikely to result in anything, will you do it anyway? if you can't do it the easy way, will you try at all?

[c-rowlesdraws]

The real crux of the whole discussion is that windows and Mac are both closed proprietary systems that want to withhold your own hardware and software from you and give control of it to a company with the explicit goal of extracting more and more profit from you.

Use whatever environment that you like best, but understand that ultimately both suffer from Capitalism Problems, and those are only averted by the Free and Open-Source philosophy (which Linux is a project of). Remember that if they could get their way, both Apple and Microsoft would happily charge you a fee every time you turn on your own computer and lock access to your files and software behind a subscription service. In a lot of ways what's sold to you as user friendliness and ease and convenience is walls, locks, and a loss of control of hardware that you wholly own.

Whatever system you do use, I recommend doing everything you can to learn how to tear down those walls. Pirate stuff, use FOSS programs, learn enough about your hardware and software to confidently bypass the restrictions built into it by people who want you to be a product.

I'm not interested in selling you on a particular OS, but I deeply passionately want everyone who depends on technology to feel a confidence and sense of ownership over their stuff.

Personally I use windows as my daily driver, and I have for decades. There are shockingly easy ways to wrest control back from Microsoft within it, and if you'd like some help or advice in that direction I'd love to provide that for you if you reach out to me.

You don't have to learn disk architecture or command line operations or throw your iMac down a well in order to make your computer truly yours, but you do have to proactively choose not to accept the cages these capitalist entities try to force you into.

Whatever you do, *do not* use the windows app store for software.

I appreciate all of this, I really do. I would love to give a big ol middle finger to capitalism and seize my computer destiny with both hands. But I am, for now, completely willing to sacrifice freedom for convenience and suckle meekly at the teats of Microsoft and Apple if it means never having to mess around with the intricate and fragile and expensive insides, hard or soft, of my computer where basically my entire life and work are stored.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

god!reader cinematic universe conceptー

no one in mondstadt believes venti is married for the longest time.

even as barbatos the identity of his spouse is debated by scholars and even the most devout nuns of favonius. geographically, it made no sense with amur hailing far west from sumeru. there isn’t much physical evidence of your existence in mondstadt either. according to the church, just as barbatos wished to leave the cultivation of mondstadt completely in the hands of his people, amur respect his philosophies and let the lands of mondstadt develop on its own.

but as venti the windborne bard, the locals of the city of freedom find it hard to believe that he isn’t a bachelor. it was one thing to finally convince the bartenders and tavern patrons that he was of drinking age. it was another entirely to believe he was anything but a bachelor. it doesn’t help that you’re out of the country either.

he swears you’re just back home in sumeru visiting family. that you write to him often and he sees you in his dreams, very literally on the first part, also literally very metaphorically on the second. that statement only garnered him a pint of dandelion wine from angel’s share. “it’s on the house,” charles patted his shoulder with a look of pity.

that occasion was probably the first time venti only accepted a drink begrudgingly. it is something your husband is quick to share the next time you visit him in his dreams. it never fails to fascinate him how you’re able to craft them so meticulously that it almost feels like reality. that you’re both truly sitting atop the shroom heads of mawtiyima forest, the moon and stars reflecting in the pools gathered in their centers. but that wonder takes second place to his annoyance and yearning.

“everyone thinks i’m making up a fake lover from sumeru because you’ve been away so long!” he drapes himself across your lap, a far cry from his regal image as the god of freedom that paved the way for lady vennessa. a far cry from the brave and noble sylph that sided with the rebels against decarabian. it’s so cute and ridiculous that you can’t help laughing.

“[first], this is serious!” you snicker even more at the sound of your personal name. “wow,” venti huffs in disbelief, tone more playful than not. “you’re laughing. people think i’m making up a fake sumeran lover and you’re laughing. some soother you are.”

“oh don’t be such a baby, i’ll be back just in time for windblume” you coo, caressing his soft navy locks through your finger tips and cecilia buds sprout across his hair. “i can’t hover over buer forever, she’s adjusting well to running sumeru. it makes me proud as her oldest friend, i almost feel like a proud parent.” but every child had to leave the nest and every parent had to believe that child would be carried by the wind beneath their wings. we’ll have to visit later this year for her birthday. “i’ll make sure everyone knows that you aren’t making up some fake spouse that needs extra drinks on a lonely saturday night.”

blue eyes gaze as you sourly at the comment. “it’s rare but there are bards in mondstadt whose ballads spurn the idea of love, you know.”

“go ahead,” you grin widely. “they’ll just think you made up a fake divorce with your fake lover as well!”

[insane-oc-posting]

what happened to embarassingly parallel, were they burning them or smth

Remembered this existed, have an excuse to info dump!

Embarrassingly parallel wasn't always a member of the cult, in fact, the started as a captive, put through the same torture of any other iterator that the group managed to kidnap.

This changed when they overheard a conversation about the purposes of the cult from two members.

You see, this cult believes that the only way for one to ascend is to lose all will to live, and that happens by achieving a state of true suffering (title drop). The cult wants to help others achieve this by kidnapping iterators and just torturing them until something happens, if nothing happens, well then they just haven't suffered enough, duh.

The reason Parallel was taken into the cult upon hearing the truth of their goals is the belief that knowing there will be an end to the suffering and eventual hope and freedom completely locks someone out of achieving the state needed to ascend, as with hope someone will never reach a state of a pure enough misery to lose all will to live.

After hearing this, they immediately informed their tormentors that they knew, and were thus now made a member of the group.

They were made second in command solely because of their sheer willingness to follow orders and total belief in the group's goals, as they are desperate to assign what happened to them an actual meaning as a manner of dealing with the trauma.

As for their appearance, they had to be fixed up when joining, physically they were a complete wreck.

Part of their face was just completely missing, as well as an arm, and that's ignoring the many shallower wounds.

The way in which the cult fixes up iterators is through welding, which is how Parallel's scars turned out looking so jagged and strange, as it's simply a sloppy welding job.

Later they were also slightly modified to take on the appearance and characteristics of actual cult members, though their origin didn't allow for some features to be properly implemented. Most notably being the fact they don't possess a long tail like the rest, not allowing them to fly like others, this is because the tail seen on cult members is made from remmants of the umbilical, and with Parallel having been ripped off carelessly there were no remmants to work with.

Just because they're a member of the cult doesn't mean they're safe from abuse, however, as many members don't actually believe in the philosophy preached, merely having joined to have an excuse to be sadistic.

Parallel doesn't realize this, and believes that just about any action taken is in good faith, they miss a lot of red flags because of this.

Hell, they missed enough red flags to try dating Silk at one point, which ended up being about as healthy of a relationship as is to be expected from dating Silk.

To this day they still believe the two of them are in a nice and happy relationship, meanwhile Silk has long moved away from any attempt at actually dating and uses Parallel as a mere plaything.

[wedreamedlove]

If you mind me asking but when the writers describe Jesse as obsessive ,does it reach like yandere level?

And also how would you rank from least obsessive to most in LN male leads ?

nah, at its core, light and night is still a mainstream chinese otome game, meaning the men have to be good role models. but why i keep praising their writers is that they have a very good grasp on human nature and so all of the men display the same human traits in their own ways, leading them to overcome traumas, negative thinking, and destructive thoughts. this makes them really relatable for us players.

honestly, i'd like to stress this about otome games, which are visual novels at their core, that the goal isn't just to self-insert into the heroine, it's also to see yourself reflected in the men.

going back to your particular question though, would it surprise you if i said that all of the men have shown yandere-esque thoughts? heehee, the ranking would go:

Sariel

Osborn

Evan

Charlie

Jesse

Sariel's the least obsessive since his philosophy is all about letting things take their natural course. that being said though, this immortal fox does reveal that, at one point in time, he considered building a cabin in the woods and just rotting there with the jade pendant you gave him in the past. like, that's some obsessive thinking there. (he lost the pendant at one point and went on this crazy journey to get it back, pretty sure he got scammed by like 90% of the people that he asked.)

Osborn is a complicated case because, technically, he's less obsessive than Sariel. but i'm counting the other half of his soul, even if their experiencese sort of made them two different people. his other half locked up the heroine, was willing to replace Osborn as his shadow, and also offered to let himself get hurt if it will keep the heroine tied to him through guilt and heartache.

Evan showed how monstrously possessive he can be after he's determined to fight for something now. he would rather the heroine hate him and have them be entangled in a web of love-hate until the end than be strangers.

Charlie is another complicated case because, technically, he understands the longing for freedom more than anyone else and so he and the heroine get along well because of this (two sides of the same coin). however, he's got his dad's blood in him, that's for sure. he has an entire collection room of things related to the heroine and preserves like everything. he's also talked about letting himself get consumed by the heroine so he can be with her even through death. what can i say, vore is love because love is a consumption—

Jesse is still the most "yandere" out of all the men, in my opinion, because he stalked the heroine and everyone calls him out on his "obsession" towards her and how half the time his world is so small it only contains the heroine.