#the victory principle

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[aphel1on]

neuvillette's lore is actually insane. we all took one look at him and went "haha dragon🫵" but i significantly underestimated how big of a role he would play. he's the incarnation of the original hydro sovereign. he took back his rule right under the heavenly principles' nose. he's the one handing out hydro visions now (not even because he has to, he doesn't, he just grew so fond of humanity that he chooses to). he gave away the hydro gnosis bc he straight up doesn't need it. he's planning to DETHRONE ALL OF THE ARCHONS (in a few hundred years, when the traveler's not around to see it, so it won't be awkward for them). he's kind and soft-spoken. he's full of vengeful rage. he's a father to hundreds. he found his purpose after feeling lost for 500 years. skirk pulled him aside for a super-secret convo and when he saw us again he immediately spilled the tea. as far as i can tell, he spawned into existence fully formed. no other character can fucking compare

[viric-dreams]

Something I've been rolling around in my head: Jones is closest to the Great Game for professional reasons, but I think the Game aside, he's actually closest to the Church.

Religion was not something he'd given much thought to on the surface, but in Newgate he had access to only one regular visitor, and one book. It became a stabilising ritual in his life: praying to mark time, keeping count from one holy day to the next, saying grace before meals to prove to himself that he's still civilised, still a person enough to take a moment to reflect and not tear into whatever's in front of him as fast as he can.

The priest had offered to pass on his words back to his family on the surface, let them know how much he missed them. This is how he eventually managed to reestablish contact with the one sister who would still speak to him once he got out.

And when he left Newgate, the local church was one of the first social spaces he had, where he was able to make those first connections with people again and rejoin a community. It's a lot less prominent in his life in London: Prayer is limited to a few moments before bed, and he's still a regular Sunday visitor to the church.

What he actually believes isn't so important, especially in a place where Judgements are demonstrable forces and Hell is real. It's the belief itself, and the rituals that go along with it that give his life structure, and helped him gain a sense of autonomy and control, when for so many years he had none.

This has some particularly interesting implications for his relationship with Nite, a man who fully believes in the Judgements and is working to break the Chain, and eventually tries to persuade Jones to the cause. And his zeal is infectious. Jones is able to hold simultaneously contradictory views. It's not the first or last time that he does.

And though it was the Anglicans and not the Catholics whom he's embraced (in contrast to several of the more religious members of London's Welsh community), he can't help but see the parallels in his work with administering the Rites of St. Joshua. It's the part of his work that he finds the most satisfying--being able to relieve people of their burdens.

[joelletwo]

ignoring the baby. this is sakamoto narrating that he doesnt think miracles exist [to contrast chars saying altana baby 1 was a miracle that cant happen again], that things happen for logical reasons, including gintoki surviving the terminal explosion of shouyou altana suiciding. this is. the sympathetic materialism char backing up the. the. hand waving reductionisms writing on the unidirectionality of the master-disciple relationship (disciples shouldnt sacrifice themselves for their master). logs this

[tyunningcore]

diwali and halloween on the same night that’s crazy

[princehendir]

Brosca & Alistair like genuinely can't spar in a regular people way because Alistair always does this thing where he kinda lets her win and then is like aaah oh no, you've overpowered me. you're so strong aaaa ;) And like Brosca isn't going to complain, it IS pretty hot. But she's always a little disappointed too like baby can you please take this seriously for a second I want me winning to actually mean something.

[nerice]

im missing so many skins of my fav uuu (bewitching / majestic empress / coven / dawnbringer / star nemesis)

[mnyehlike]

IT'S ABOUT THE PRINCIPLE

[alohapromisesforever]

First Principles: Whoever Has Ears, Let Them Hear What the Spirit Says To the Churches. To the One Who Is Victorious, I Will Give the Right To Eat From the Tree of Life

“Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.” – Revelation 2:7 (NIV)

[funamblrist]

the collapse of the ussr was principally caused by its many contradictions, and the failure of the soviet state to reproduce itself: the contradiction between the level of productive forces and the level of socialisation; the contradiction between a 'whole' society supposedly without class contradictions, and the class societies of the remaining world. so long as the latter existed, the ussr couldn't escape ALL class contradictions, despite stalin and his successors recognising that the 'traditional' role of the dotp had been fulfilled. economically, the ussr failed to a) move from extensive production to intensive production; and b) achieve the abundance of resources required to prevent the re-emergence of classes. material scarcity and the division of labour allowed for individual interests to develop among certain strata -- people who saw the potential to 'move up' if the system changed -- in absence of class interests. all these things and more weren't enough to destroy the ussr on their own but, enabled by political actors like yakovlev, were instrumental in its socio-economic breakdown.

i don't think broad gestures towards 'revisionism' are particularly useful in understanding the soviet failure, especially when there are better works out there now (e.g. zubok's collapse) for us to study.

if you believe that correct theory leads to good outcomes and incorrect theory to bad outcomes

why didnt the USSR prevail? what were they missing?

to a certain degree the USSR was a victim of circumstance - being the first socialist state it was both navigating uncharted waters, as well as holding the attention of the entire bourgeois world - but it did also have a number of theoretical failings which exacerbated and induced issues. we say of stalin's administration that he was 70% correct and 30% incorrect, not that everything done was right! one of the greatest failings of the USSR was its handling of the national question, and its resulting commandism; an issue of the same type as the one that killed Che in Bolivia. obviously the domestic issue of revisionism overtaking the party was the ultimate cause of the downfall of the soviet union, but the cause of said revisionism was the objective situation that the USSR was in - the desperate attempts to undermine the non-aligned movement, the wrong notion of 'peaceful coexistence' the ussr promulgated, etc were all reactions to the fact that the USSR had, like it or not, locked itself into an irreversible nuclear standoff with the USA that it knew it could not actually follow through on. if you want to know what the ussr was missing, look to the state carrying on the torch. the PRC diverged significantly on the questions that destroyed the USSR, and it survived as a result. the USSR tried to divide the world between itself and the US, the PRC instead integrates itself into the entire world; the USSR tried to export revolution and build a dependent bloc, the PRC refuses to interfere in the self-development of other nations; the USSR established the principle of mutually assured destruction, and the PRC stated 'we are against it, but we are not afraid of it.'

[celestialstreamline]

The Art of Celebrating Small Wins

“Small wins can lead to big victories. Celebrate every step forward, no matter how small, for they are the building blocks of success.” – Unknown “Small wins can lead to big victories. Celebrate every step forward, no matter how small, for they are the building blocks of success.” – Unknown Introduction What are small wins? The ones that make you feel like you’re on top of the world, even if…

[chrisshields18]

[midnightprayertroops]

Daily Devotional "Principles of Spiritual Victory"

Daily Devotional “Principles of Spiritual Victory”Be different!October 05, 2023 “Finally, be strong in the Lord, and in the strength of His might” (Ephesians. 6:10). You can be victorious! This month we’ve learned many things about spiritual warfare that I pray will better equip you for victory in your Christian life. In concluding our brief study of Ephesians 6:10-18, here are some key…

[theculturedmarxist]

In 2020, Robert Kuciemba, a woodworker in San Francisco was infected with covid by a co-worker after his Nevada-based Victory Woodworks transferred a number of sick workers to the San Francisco site for a few months. 

Through the proceedings of the case it turns out that the employer knew some employees might be sick but they transferred them anyway and ignored a San Francisco ordinance in place at the time to quarantine suspected covid cases.

Kuciemba was subsequently infected and he then infected his wife, who ended up in ICU on a ventilator.

The California Supreme Court just ruled against Kuciemba on the basis that a victory, while, in the court's words, "morally" the right thing to do, would create "dire financial consequences for employers" and cause a "dramatic expansion of liability" to stop the spread of covid.

There’s a few stunning details to note in this case. First, the court agreed that there is no doubt the company had ignored the San Francisco health ordinance. In other words, they accepted the company had broken the law. And then concluded “yeah, but, capitalism.”

Secondly, the case was so obviously important to the struggle between capitalism and mass infection that the US Chamber of Commerce, the largest business lobbying organisation got involved and helped the company with its defence. Remember, this is a tiny company in a niche industry. The involvement of the biggest business lobbyists in the country tells us a lot about the importance of the principle they knew was at stake.

Thirdly, the defence of the company is very telling. They said “There is simply no limit to how wide the net will be cast: the wife who claims her husband caught COVID-19 from the supermarket checker, the husband who claims his wife caught it while visiting an elder care home." 

Well, exactly. Capitalism couldn’t survive if employers were liable for covid infections contracted in the workplace, and the ripple effect of those infections. And they know it. 

This case is something of a covid smoking gun, revealing what we always suspected but had never seen confirmed in so many words: the public health imperative of controlling a pandemic virus by making employers liable for some of that control is, and always must be, secondary to capitalist profit. 

This ruling is also saying out loud what has been obvious to anyone paying attention for the last two years: employers don’t have a responsibility to keep your family safe from covid. You have that responsibility. And if you give a family member covid that you caught at work and they get sick or die – even if it was a result of law-breaking by your employer – that’s on you buddy.

It is the same old capitalist story: the shunting of responsibility for ills that should be shared across society, including employers in that society, onto individuals.

This ruling essentially helps codify workplace mass infection and justifies it as necessary for the smooth functioning of capitalism.

This is not new. This is where the ‘just a cold’ and the ‘mild' narrative came from. It came from doctors and healthcare experts whose first loyalty was to capitalism. Not to public health. To money, not to lives. Abetted by media who uncritically platformed them.

While this ruling tells us little that we couldn’t already see from the public policy approach of the last two years, it is revealing (and to some extent validating) to see it confirmed by the highest law of the land in the United States. 

[alice-everafter]

"Stop moving around, herbivore."

The otherwise heavy silence is broken by Leona's deep timber of a voice. Rolling onto your back puts you in line of sight of his bed, where you can see the Savanna prince half covered in sheets you couldn't even afford to breathe on. He's facing away from you, barely moving. If he hadn't just spoken you'd assume he was dead or something.

"I could hear your squirming from half way across campus. Settle down or get out, you're disturbing my sleep."

"...Sorry." Your throat twinges with the faint reminder of how you got to sleep in the dorm room of Leona Kingscholar in the first place.

After being so rudely ejected from your beloved Ramshackle home on such short notice, possible sleeping arrangements were few and far between. Now, you could've taken Ace and Deuce up on their offer, but Jack was... he was Jack. And only Jack could convince you to stay in Savanaclaw. But, then Leona had to come and say no, and then you panicked cause you saw yourself and Grim on the street. And that panic plus the sleep deprivation from finals lead you to perform your own rendition of "Cotton Eye Joe" outside his bedroom out of sheer desperation.

You didn't even get to the second verse before he bodily dragged you inside with a growl that had you accepting death like an unspoken principle.

The room was once again blanketed in a thick silence. Grim, who slept by your feet, didn't even make a peep. Banging those pots around while providing you backing vocals must've taken it out of him. Poor guy. Out of anyone in this room, he's the one you'd feel the most bad for disturbing.

So, with a sigh, you accept your fate and get up from your collection of floor blankets. Your destination being one of the Savanaclaw couches.

You knew your mind, you wouldn't be sleeping for a while. There was just... too much. Azul and his contracts, Jade and Floyd and their sharp teeth, Leona and his eyes. The ones that once looked at you like you were vermin to crush through the haze of a raging sandstorm. While Ruggie batted and kicked and cried for breath. And you swore his eyes had glazed over as he fell limp and━

"Hey."

You stop, both bodily and mentally, as his voice once again breaks the silence. There's a cold sweat you didn't notice gathering on your back. You turn to find him staring at you with those same green eyes. You can't tell if he's searching for something in you or debating heavily with himself. But, whatever it is, it isn't for long before he seems to come to a conclusion with a rumbling sigh.

"Come here."

What. "What."

"You heard me, come here."

To say you were conflicted would be the understatement of the century. You had just been spiraling not even 30 seconds ago and now the object of your trauma was beckoning you closer like the parent to your distressed child.

"I don't have all day, herbivore. You coming or not?"

"...It's night."

"..."

"..."

"Just get over here before I change my mind."

"Right."

He heaves another grumbling sigh as you shuffle across the room. Stood next to his bed gives you a view reminiscent of that time in the greenhouse. Him, splayed across his bed, hair cascading over his pillows. While you're stock still and more than a bit puzzled and kind of scared. Even though you're looking down on him, you don't feel like you have the advantage that you should. He looks almost too calm, too relaxed. Like he's assured of a victory yet to come.

That thought sends a chill up your spine, reminding you of the sweat that persists on your back.

"Well?" He raises a brow expectantly.

You blink, "well, what?"

"Are you laying down or what?"

"...Am I laying down or what?"

"Need me to spell it out for you? Or should I help you into bed?"

"Not necessary."

You don't know what possesses you━whether it's self preservation or annoyance or curiosity or just straight madness━but you get in. You pull back those luxurious sheets and slide beneath them where you're immediately accosted by warmth. Heat seems to be radiating from him like a fire.

The revelation is... not an unpleasant one.

You realize he's still staring at you. But, not intently, not like he's trying to pry a secret from you. Leona never looks at anyone like he means to take their person apart. He simply observes and acknowledges, anyone and anything.

"Think you can finally go to bed and stop flopping around like a dead fish?"

"...Haven't I dealt with enough fish today? And now you bring them up in Savanaclaw of all places. Is no where safe?"

You're surprised when his brows pinch in amusement and a short but gruff chuckle leaves his lips.

"My bad then, for touching on such a tender topic."

"Yeah, your bad indeed."

No one says anything else afterward and he seems to take that as an invitation to turn onto his back. Letting out a deep breath through his nose while nestling an arm behind his head, eyes sliding shut.

Somewhere between you climbing into his bed and him settling down to sleep, the sweat has cooled off your skin. Not to mention the sudden heaviness dragging at your eyelids. Seems that you would be able to sleep some after all.

You turn away and towards the open balcony, towards the spot where you had once laid and Grim continues to snooze. The moon lights up the room, and though it's not the sun, it still feels just as warm somehow.

Speaking of warm, there's a heater pressed to your back. Scratch that, Leona is pressed to your back. And that's his arm, sliding over your hip and resting draped over your side.

It feels like the world hiccups when you feel his next breath puff against your hair. But, surprisingly enough, you're not shaking in your metaphorical boots. Just... very confused, once again.

"...Is this supposed to be punishment for 'Cotton Eye Joe?'"

He says nothing at first, and you begin to fear for your safety before he eventually does.

"Whatever helps put you to bed faster."

That arm over your side moves before you feel his hand settle atop your collarbone. Those same hands that had once brought ruin and pain were now just a small brush away from your neck.

This should terrify you, but it doesn't. Because he's gentle in this moment. His arm isn't an insistent press, it's a steady weight. His hand isn't a branding clasp, it's a soft touch.

There are words left unsaid between you two that his body seems to carry instead. And you drift off with the feeling of his tail draping over your ankles beneath the sheets.

[jester-lover]

P4 Relationship Headcanons

Authors Note/ I have read the manga up to the last English translated volume, but I’ll stick to the public school arc characterizations of them for convenience’s sake.

CW/fem! reader but otherwise no physical description , fluff, kindof accurate Victorian courting, a little angst, manga spoilers! I most definitely forgot this arc was getting animated, so I’m late, might be a little OOC, it’s been a few months since I read the manga

Edgar Redmond

Flattery was his main method of gaining your affections: descriptive poems sent to your mailbox, tulips and chocolates left on your doorstep by a mysterious admirer—a carefully held facade that fell apart when Edgar realized just how badly he wanted your affections returned.

While he has always considered himself a free spirit, capable of swiftly moving from one lover to another, he has an epiphany when he realizes he needs exclusivity with you. Edgar has found something beyond flings with you, a woman who can truly make him nervous; make his heart beat against his chest every time you bless him with a glance.

He isn’t always the most touchy lover, but he tends to take your arm in his while the two of you are out together. (He’ll do nothing more, as he doesn’t want rumors to spread around your private relationship.)

Edgar tends to fuss over you a bit, fixing your dresses, brushing his fingers over your coat, and generally keeping your appearance looking tidy; it’s an act of service that displays his affections for you.

Lawrence Bluewer

When I say all of his sisters gang up on him to tease him about his crush on you, I mean it. Lawrence tried his best to keep his love for you a secret, but his yearning glances over his glasses reveal his truth. They encourage him to speak to you, giving him advice about what women like. (Trust me, he needs it.)

Lawrence is a very dedicated man, particularly when it comes to you. He holds up all of the important customs of an exemplary Victorian man and treats you as an equal in all matters.

He’s adamant on listening to your opinion on matters involving the two of you, but he’ll also ask for your opinions on issues in his home and dorm. Your opinion is important to him.

Lawrence is a very intelligent young man; if you ever find yourself struggling with your schoolwork or a matter of principle in your personal life, he’ll help out to the best of his ability.

Call him by any affectionate nickname, and that carefully held stoicism crumbles before you, and a red tint suddenly appears on his pale face. The only time he ever broke his own rules was after the cricket match, when he embraced you tightly in the stands after winning, so much more proud of his victory now that you had seen it.

Herman Greenhill

It feels as if someone has struck him in the heart each time he lays his eyes on you. He can feel the warmth of his skin and the sweating of his palms each time he tries to talk to you without stumbling through his words. Herman is so utterly rigid and awkward around you, it’s completely obvious he’s head over heels.

He’s often flustered around you, even when you’re already courting, as one of his ideals of chivalry and respect is treating ladies kindly. He acts like a strict old man and a shy schoolboy at the same time, wanting your touch so desperately but bashing himself for it.

You will probably have to enact most of the affection between the two of you, sneaking kisses when your chaperone turns away, holding his hand when you walk into a more private corridor of his residence, and cheering loudly at his games. The easiest way to get a reaction from Herman is by showing off your stockings; he’s a sucker for good hosiery.

Despite his proud and sort of arrogant personality, Herman is a shy and careful lover; he remembers all of your favorites and special days, and he loves receiving your praise. Whenever he achieves something, he immediately looks to you, waiting to see what you make of him.

Gregory Violet

You wouldn’t even know of his existence when he first saw you, but he was always there, with a thick black sketchbook filled with drawings of you, going about your daily routine and interacting with others in a way he only wished he could. The sheer amount of yearning he does could put the poets to shame.

You are his muse; even when Gregory is creating something completely irrelevant to you, he’ll remember you; you are so infused with everything he makes. Because he has put you on this goddess-like pedestal, he doesn’t think he deserves you, which is why he’s so surprised when you agree to court him.

Gregory’s affection comes in bursts; some days he’ll be too nervous to look you in the eye, but other times he’s practically joined at your hip. He’s not the most talkative lover, but when his eyes flit through you, examining you closely with a blush stretched across his features, he appreciates you like you are art.

He plays the role of the gentleman in public, keeping his respectful distance, but he often seeks your comfort in the few moments you can sneak alone, laying his head on your lap as you brush through his two-toned hair and rambling uncharacteristically about the struggles of his role. He’s a non-conformist, and he often wished the society you lived in wasn’t so strict, so that you and him could act as wild and free as you did in the leather binding of his sketchbook.