#goodness implicit

[innocuoussketches]

TT: After you go, what do you think will happen to me?  TT: Will I just cease to exist?

TT: I am scared to not exist.  TT: Aren't you?

[saturnniidae]

I love Mel and I'm glad so many people agree on her beauty, she is a gorgeous, breathtakingly majestic black woman and I'm glad she's appreciated but istg mfs only ever talking about how attractive she is rather than her intelligence and complex morality.

Everyone wants a morally grey woman character until she's black suddenly it's crickets in the crowd. Ik it's not usually intentional but (typically white) people have such an inate unwillingness to discuss poc (Especially woc) characters beyond surface level and it's annoying asf

[lonicera-caprifolium]

please consider scoundrel Crowley, and his (modified) commando droid boyfriend AZ-7

[ritzcuit]

i love shiba so desperately i LOVE the contradiction between him caring abt chihiro vs him helping chihiro in such gruesome shameless violence like. its gonna break you. but ill be there. catching you after every battle and taking you home once youre done. bc. i love you and i want you to be safe... but im going to help you get into these horrible dangerous situations in the first place...how can you say you love someone and want them to be safe if you keep letting them down such a horrible path??

esp contrasting it with like, samura, who was "sending a message that shiba cant keep chihiro safe"... samura who doesnt want these kids to follow in their bloody footsteps and tries to keep his own daughter away from it... but shiba is like.well. but i cant stop him. and samura is like Ok But I Can.

....and then shiba sets him on the violent path againLIKE DUDEEE 😭😭 but seriously how do you bear looking a grieving desperate child in the eye and holding the one thing he has of his fathers' out of reach, like, no you cant be trusted with this, im taking it away... maybe a good parent could do it... well. samura did it.

but shiba isnt. a parent. and he wasnt meant to be in this position. he was supposed to be the silly family friend who shows up and brings chihiro gifts... he cant discipline this kid. it was never meant to be like that. like even all his pleas to fall back in battle, and try to reconvene, theyre ignored... if he asks chihiro to take it easy and not get into fights bc he is Very Injured, its ignored... so like. what can shiba do? but helplessly follow along and try to make things one percent less wretched than theyre going to be...

[evermarch]

hey! you said you had more to say on asterid and im so curious about your thoughts. I wonder what you think about how she might represent the progression of submission (from implicit, to anxious when she bans the hanging tree song, to silence when burdock dies). Just feel like you might have some interesting words on this.

i’m still processing all my *thoughts and feelings* so this may be a bit half-baked, but i think asterid is a fascinating case study in implicit submission. because she doesn’t start that way. and most importantly, she doesn’t end that way.

asterid can be analyzed by considering hume’s doctrine of implicit submission from his “of the first principles of government” essay iv, which says that while “force is always on the side of the governed, the governors have nothing to support them but opinion.” hume extends the “opinion,” which can be understood to mean ideology (maybe not the best word idk), into two categories—opinion of interest and opinion of right. the former involves the idea that government in general is a good thing, and also this government isn’t really worse than any other conceivable form. opinion of right can be further divided into the right to power and the right to property.

right to property is somewhat self-explanatory, so we can look next at the right to power. that is largely about how a government in power gains a lot of its power from the idea that it (and by extension, the people in power) has always had power, so it will, and thus should, continue to have power. this concept is much like the heavensbees in the capitol—snow himself disdains but cannot refute the notion that the heavensbees embody panem, because the heavensbees have always embodied panem, and thus maintain the right to wealth and the sprawling mansions and the endless libraries. he tolerates it, largely because he, too, is among this class. he implicitly submits.

asterid, likewise, is among the privileged within her community. the “government” which affects her day-to-day life is, yes, the capitol, but more so its extension of the peacekeepers and the mayor in district 12. she doesn’t engage with the capitol citizens or its rulers, but she does engage with the peacekeepers that require her family to place a banner in the window and the mayor who reads the treaty of treason at the reaping.

asterid should subscribe to the “opinions” of government more than most—she certainly should have an opinion of interest, because, she is decently fed, has friends, and not the worst life. yes, she’s in the reaping, but so is everyone tangible in her world, and she’s in the bowl less than most. there’s no real reason for her to be able dream up a better system, or necessarily to want to.

as far as opinion of right, the government owns the property (see katniss and snow’s conversation in the study in cf, where she says “he has no right, but ultimately every right,” to occupy her home). but asterid has all the access she needs. and with the right to power, the capitol has always had power, true, but so has she—it’s understood through the physical features that the merchant class shares (blonde hair, blue eyes), which differs tremendously from the seam (lower class) people, that the privileged, “powerful” class in district 12 have always been afforded proximity to the government’s right to power and the benefits therein.

but asterid doesn’t. she, much like plutarch, rejects the submission which should come easier to her than to most of the people of district 12. why? because of the three limitations on the opinions which empower government—“self interest, fear, and affection.” hume emphasizes that these limitations don’t overthrow a government on their own; they require a lot of people to reject and/or utilize them accordingly. that said, an individual’s expression of any of the limitations can extend somewhat far in terms of their own autonomy.

asterid, of course, fears the government, and protects her self-interest (her life as described above). she doesn’t run from the reaping. she doesn’t step too far out of line, as far as we know. but she does wield her affection as a healer as a means of force. she treats those in the seam and takes no payment for her services. she falls in love with a man from the lower class and rejects the relatively comfortable life to which she was born entitled. in doing so, she sacrifices the right to extend such comfort to the future children she may have had with otho mellark. these actions are inherent objections to the stratification of the classes of district 12. in other words, our girl is a class traitor, and she commits.

however, embracing these limitations only goes so far. her fear for her family’s safety takes over when she bans the hanging tree, and when she silences katniss’ defiant speech at home. when her husband dies, asterid’s affection turns against her. she enters a catatonic state which endangers the life of her children. had she fallen in love with a man from town, she may have still gone into a catatonic state, but she would have the resources to treat herself and go on. because of her small acts of opposition, otherwise insignificant to the government and its power, she lost the privileges of her prior proximity to the government’s right to power. so, she implicitly submits.

but that’s not true anymore once her daughter comes back from the games. she returns to treating people with no payment. she’s in more danger than ever before, and yet, she brings gale to her home in the middle of the night. after that, she risks prim’s safety by allowing her to aid the steady stream of beaten bodies which arrive on her doorstep. she begins to envision a better world—in district 13, she does her part to help the rebellion. she models the same behavior for her impressionable little girl. a child best known for following in her mother’s footsteps in appearance and in behavior. a daughter whose life is blown to pieces because she, like her mother, refuses to submit.

while it’s true that asterid suffered far more from her small acts of defiance than was proportional, and certainly far more than she gained, i think that she stands as a extension to hume’s assertion that the limitations on the opinions of government can only achieve so much. his example is in collective action, like the rebels fighting the war. it’s true that asterid did not participate in destroying an arena or shooting a gun. but without her affection for a seam boy overtaking her fear and self-interest, we would never have had katniss. without her demonstration of love across stratified lines, katniss would not have prim to protect, or, if she did, a will to do so. without her healing, katniss would never have known how to save peeta (or herself) in the arena, and panem would have never seen the trick with the berries.

through her little acts of defiance, her incidental rejections of submission, asterid birthed a revolution.

[crispyjenkins]

i don't know who needs to hear this today but the jedi would not be body-shy

especially during the war. some would be uncomfortable, sure, or even heavily dislike being nude and/or bathing around others, but the point of that is that would be respected as a choice. there is a very large difference between preferring not to be nude around others, for cultural religious or personal reasons, versus being ashamed. nothing you can do can convince me jedi would be ashamed or embarrassed of their or others' bodies.

why. why would the jedi think nudity undignified. why would they turn their noses up at it as unseemly, rather than a choice and preference

[kradogsrats]

love the absolutely ridiculous degree to which Aaravos misunderstands why Claudia is so disturbed by the unicorn skeleton, like she's reliving a moment of traumatic childhood disillusionment and existential crisis over the inevitability of death for even the most legendarily good and magical of creatures and his response is "don't worry, ghosts aren't real"

[cool-thymus]

~ Naruto Shippuden the Movie: The Will of Fire

This movie is far from perfect, but i'm forever grateful for such tender depiction of Naruto's love for his Kakashi-sensei. Reaching out into the abyss to catch him and pull back no matter what people say, no matter what Kakashi says, no matter how far gone he is. And when he wakes up to welcome Sensei with his most precious belief, check and mate, Kakashi. You taught Naruto well.

[epicfirestormer]

What I love about Hellboy and Abe Sapien's dynamic in the comics is that, if you came into this blind, you'd expect Abe to be the voice of reason or the straight man to Hellboy's impulsive and hotheaded personality. But no, Abe is more often than not the crazy one. Hellboy would deal with fighting evil monsters and bad guys by just sighing and getting it over with, while Abe is going rabid over tearing the creature apart when he does get into a fight. Hellboy acts like it's a 9-to-5 job and will reasonably talk things out with a guy that had nearly killed him before, Abe acts like a madman in a slaughter house and his first instinct is to shoot first kill second and ask third. They're both insane, but on completely different levels.

[peachdues]

my Dad, taking action to stock up on plan B in the wake of the election just so I’m protected 😭😭

[dollopole]

In the midst of the forest, a rabbit chewed on a leaf.

Said leaf was green and sparkling, the skin of the rabbit white and soft, and the sun shone on it like a price to be owned.

The perfect prey for the imperious predator: an arrow, that would have struck the animal right through his heart to deal the fatal blow of death, and to—the rabbit flew away, tapping, right at the sound of a crunched leaf, but for crunched it wasn’t, rather imposed upon by two big feet.

Merlin’s two big feet.

“You—idiot, you scared it away!”

Arthur screeched in the silence of the forest, the scenery bright enough by the Summer to light on Arthur’s red, sweaty face as he turned on his side to admonish the man beside him that he had for a servant, flick him on the forehead, and grit at him through his teeth.

Sometimes friend, sometimes more, if the days smiled upon Arthur, and Merlin didn’t get on his nerves, the two men shared amicably sessions of relationship development, such as throwing insults at one another, stare with concern for the other's sanity and smiling privately when one of the two said something similar to a compliment to the other.

Merlin, who was not smiling now, rolled his eyes at Arthur’s crouched position.

Unlike the royal, ready to perform what seemed obvious (an act of masculinity that he hoped would make Merlin stop looking at Lancelot for too long, especially when he brought flowers to Guinevere) looked instead about to lounge around, have a picnic, and forget all about Arthur, his crossbow and his show of true and pure prowess.

“The poor thing scared itself when it saw your face. Do not blame me for something you did on your own," Merlin admitted quite easily, like Arthur wasn't a king on a quest, but a child with crooked teeth and a wooden sword.

Arthur let go of the weapon to let it hit on his thighs, turning around in time to witness Merlin's shrug as if the problem for his ineptitude at following orders came from an unfathomable, God-like-source, rather than his own little, silly head.

“We’re supposed to be hunting.”

“Which is a synonym for killing."

“You would expect your head to work better, if you can come up with big words like that.”

"You would expect for your head to work, and that's it. I guess I'm asking for too much."

Merlin pursed his lips in a nod, quite proud with himself, pleased, even, as Arthur fumed on the inside, while his outside looked more and more like the peel of a plum: bothered to the point his skin took on every sort of wrinkling shape.

“Do you know what that means?”

“Yes, it means that we have enough food at home and that we shan’t be hunting poor little animals anymore?”

Arthur shook his head, more focused on the familiarity of the scene of the absolute moron judging his actions in front of him and acting like the better man, than on the sentence per se.

It was known that even your closest of friends had to be judged from one time to another, less they grew a big, thick skull like Arthur's.

“I will hardly do any damage by killing a small rabbit," Arthur pointed out, like he held a grudge against the species, affronted that he could be wrong, and turned around, fixated on the task like he was on anything else.

A perfectionist with a stick up his arse, a prat with too much time on his hands, a clotpole who liked to show off.

Those were Merlin’s words behind his back, not his.

Arthur was busy working, and Merlin was busy pointing out everything he could do wrong.

It comes naturally to our higher understanding that rare were the moments Merlin shut up, so when he did, Arthur was left quite baffled, with a crossbow in hand and no entertainment.

On one side, Arthur was grateful for the blissful and peaceful atmosphere gifted to him by the laws of nature capable of shutting Merlin's mouth for good, and the other part of Arthur was scared out of his wits.

On a list of the reasons to Merlin being quiet, these points fell in it:

he had been kidnapped without Arthur noticing, something he liked to do quite a lot, since he just couldn’t let things be. No, not every woman with an eerie aura around her must be followed into the dark, deep woods during the night, because she, "lost her way back home." Arthur yelled at Merlin that it was very stupid and reckless of him, but Morgana said that, after seeing the enchantress, every specimen like Merlin would have followed a woman in the woods, if she wore such a, "voluptuous front", that to Morgana sounded funny and a fault of the male category, and that to Arthur sounded like an accusation, even if he hadn't noticed the state of half undressed the woman had with her, just the knife she had pointed to Merlin's throat.

And even then, the chance of Merlin silencing himself when kidnapped were slim too.

He had to be knocked out first.

So we come to the other option, which could be that Merlin was eating. But Arthur doubted that he could be silent, although the first place of the lack of manners at the dinner table was presided over by none other than Gwaine.

The third option was the more plausible.

Merlin had found a bear rustling the leaves of the woods and became pale as the moonlight, because Merlin was many things, and one of those was an absolute girl’s petticoat.

All of this circled through Arthur’s mind in a whirlwind, enough to worry him. Likely to avoid the subject, Arthur never ventured far enough to understand why Merlin made him… Well, worry. And it was a sort of worry that… Worried.

It took too much out of Arthur to grasp the reason behind his extreme worry over a friend like Merlin. It meant he needed to deal with something called ‘feelings’, and that was just a big ‘no’.

The king turned around, and quirked an eyebrow. Merlin was in the same position as when he had left him, and completely fine.

Now, that was a kind of worrying Arthur didn't want to face.

“Merlin”, he said, like everything was supposed to be all right.

“Mh?”

“You're up to something.”

Merlin frowned, and jumped from a feet to another, like when you lose balance since your limbs are long but your brain, if it was measured by height, was too short.

"Igotnoideawhatyouretalkingabout," Merlin rushed out, bottom lip trapped in a guilty grimace of his mouth.

Arthur found the expression quite… Unique, not to say Merlin could be endearing as a grown man who fell on his ass too many times a day.

That’s when Arthur saw it, while he was scrutinising Merlin up and down and wondering if his hair had always been that dark under the sun or if his skin so smooth in one plane surface.

Movement stirred Merlin’s jacket, and the servant suppressed a squeak.

Arthur almost crawled on him for answers.

Poor choice of words, yet Arthur found himself strangely attracted to the idea of tackling down Merlin.

Quite often too.

If not to find out what he was hiding, then for horseplay; brotherly tussle; friendly fight.

Anything that could make Arthur be as close to the long and stupid body in front of him as possible and in the shortest of time, the better.

Another squeak, and something white poked from Merlin’s jacket.

As the slow realisation descended upon the king, Merlin began smiling.

Like an idiot.

Did Arthur say Merlin was an idiot?

An idiot with a good heart and even better intentions, who looked up at Arthur like he called out old cunts and arseholes at council every day for a living.

Which he did, and Merlin showed him he very much appreciated it.

He said it was, "strangely attractive that you stand your ground." But it wasn't the time to reminisce the day Merlin went down on him, since that smile was what Arthur called, “that wicked thingy that promised no good”, usually followed by Merlin confessing to Arthur he dyed a noble's hair blue and that Gwen needed to be spared the lecture because she was too kind to be reprimanded and because he had basically made her do something that bordered on illegal.

“Merlin, is that—“

Arthur’s mind still a turmoil on how it became this, Merlin being himself and Arthur enjoying it, a rabbit with soft fur and blue eyes poked his small nose out of Merlin’s jacket with a big sniff.

No wonder.

Stuck in there, Arthur asked himself if the woods smelled better than a sweaty, Summer Merlin. Not that Arthur wanted to smell Merlin’s sweat.

That was weird.

Like fixating on the hot blush on Merlin's high cheekbones the heat procured him, and that Arthur often found himself admiring long enough to feel the need to caress them.

“Look at the eyes, Arthur.”

There it went, the first attack of Merlin’s master plan: using the animals like a bargain, while trying to spare those same animals.

Arthur sagged on himself with a long sigh.

Yes, fine, his eyes were blue and round and… Utterly pretty, with endearing dark lashes surrounding the eyelids, and so were the rabbit’s, but Arthur couldn’t possibly understand what Merlin wanted from him now.

Mercy, more than probably.

It was mercy to admit you were wrong as much as it was to halt your habits, which Arthur was more inclined to do to the rabbit with each sniff he gave to the earthly and humid air, hugged to the chest of a man which the same scent he brought with him every day after gathering herbs, and that followed Arthur until he went to bed.

“Tell me you want to kill him.”

Merlin raised his eyebrows, and sat on his skinny arse. Arthur blowed rasperries, and sat on his fat one.

He laid his back on the tree trunk before him, and away with the crossbow, Arthur, king of Camelot, sat on the ground of the woods to stare at his impossible companion, telling the rabbit he was safe now, from, "that big, grumpy man who's frowning at you," petting its fur as the animal sat on his lap.

Quite a big lap.

Arthur knew for personal reasons.

And he looked. And looked. Strained his eyes to do so.

Merlin’s fingers were skilled, something Arthur also knew for personal reasons, and they scratched the rabbit’s fur so gently, it was hard to believe the hand belonged to such a tall and strong man, that with a snap of his fingers could break someone’s neck.

Arthur still believed Merlin was merely a buffoon with too much power on his hands, very much like himself.

And so, as the responsibilities called to him, in a far away kingdom, on a throne that spoke of horrors, Arthur tried to hide his smile behind a tired grimace as he blinked away the fight inside him, watching Merlin watching him under the dark of his soft eyelashes as he stroked the rabbit’s fur with such love and care, Arthur longed to be able to ask for it as easily as the bunny was doing.

And then, almost fondly, not to disrupt a moment Merlin knew was precarious, in a tone he should have used to not scare the same animal a few moments prior, Merlin asked Arthur,

“Want to hold him?”

Arthur found himself nodding.

And that sunny afternoon, that was supposed to be spent hunting, Arthur spent it by Merlin’s side, sitting next to him, their thighs brushing in comfort, with a lap and armful full of rabbits.

They were quite soft and small and vulnerable, and if Arthur stopped hunting them from that day onward, Merlin said nothing of it.

His secretive smile told Arthur all he needed to know.

Prompt: “Hunt” @merthurmicrofic

[mollywog]

If it was Lenore Dove and Haymitch at the end of the 74th games with those berries - she would have swallowed them.

[hungwy]

the philosophical argument for socialism is that you can't lead a contemplative (=good) life if you dont have the time or energy to think

[liketwoswansinbalance]

It just occurred to me: Rafal gets impacted by my favoritism in my latest fic by a lot. Perhaps by more than usual. I think he gets the most visual descriptions, but my reasons for including them may be enough to justify the excess. . .

His hair also turns a different color, partly.

[classic-callahan]

it’s so small and like ultimately insignificant but imo one of the most underrated glimpses of arthur’s natural leadership in the heat of the moment/when he’s not under Dutch’s thumb is this moment during the siege on shady belle when he gets into position after smashing the shit out of the window and immediately calls out “is everyone accounted for?”

and john’s like “idk, i think!” and Arthur I-Am-Not-Fucking-Around-Right-Now Morgan shoots back with “HEY! I said, is everyone accounted for???” shortly before running through the gunfire to get to sadie, like i just know he gave john a Talking To™️ later that night

[kiwi-luminaryofthestars]

06/01/2025 Pre-Game Saiou Orch Dork Fic Update:

TLDR: Reworked a couple elements, edited 2.5K more

Did what I alluded to yesterday and took a fine-tooth comb to the draft to figure out what was getting me stuck. From that, I removed a couple running elements and reworked sections where those were major points. Mostly reworked Shuichi’s personality and goals. After that, edited about another 2.5K.

I do think it’s better, after today’s tweaking. My goal was to back away from the line of “liking Danganronpa that much is genuinely concerning” and more into “liking Danganronpa that much is just like any other dramatic, neurodivergent teen with bad parents who enjoys a dark show” territory lol. I feel I was maybe making that aspect too serious before, when I want to give plenty weight to the ACTUALLY serious thing happening.

Hope yall have a lovely night!! Not looking forward to Monday but am looking forward to being done with this fic. Still likely this weekend edits will be done :)

ALSO HAPPY PRIDE!!! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️