#life without operators

[stone-cold-groove]

Life before 911.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

spirk using telepathy to keep each other alive. kirk, desperate, psy-null and untrained, reaching clumsily into spock's dying mind and pulling, dragging spock's essence into himself, wrenching him forceably from the very jaws of death and holding him there through sheer strength of will, saying you can't die, i won't let you, you can't leave me, i need you, and binding him to life and to himself until it's impossible to fully separate them. spock, more skilled, carefully managing each one of kirk's vital signs - keeping his heart beating steady, his lungs drawing breath, his temperature within a safe range, all while suppressing kirk's pain, and at the same trying, vainly, to keep their minds from tying themselves inexorably together, but they're pressed too close and he can't, and he hopes that kirk will forgive him, for bonding them like this (he will, of course he will), but the alternative, letting kirk die, was - unthinkable.

[writer-room]

More or less how Zane was the entirety of Dragons Rising, right?

[holyraconteur]

Okay, but here's a dark au where Spider drags Quaritch from the water and promptly kills him, and now no one knows what to do with this human child soaked in the blood of his own father. Blood is thicker than water, right? Why would a son kill his own father? Pandora's greatest enemy is dead. The scourge of the Na'vi is gone.

So, what is this feeling of discontent?

-) The moment Spider pulled Quaritch from the water, he made a choice.

-) The once-mighty colonel was barely clinging to life, his body battered, his strength drained. Weak. Helpless. A man who had terrorized Pandora, who had burned forests and spilled the blood of Eywa's children, now lay before him, gasping, vulnerable.

-) The knife in Spider’s hand felt light. The motion effortless.

-) One swift drag across the throat was all it took. Just like Neytiri would have done to him. 'Do you see me now?' Spider thinks. 'See me. See me. SEE! LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE MADE OF ME!'

-) Quaritch barely made a sound, just a wet, choked gasp as his lifeblood spilled into the water, dark ribbons mixing with the lapping waves. His body seized, his fingers twitching—but Spider only crouched there, watching, waiting. He waited for the flood of emotion. For the relief. The triumph. The guilt. But there was nothing. Just… numbness.

-) The monster was dead. The one responsible for so much suffering, for so much destruction, for everything—gone. And yet, Spider felt nothing. His father’s glassy eyes stared up at him, lifeless. Eywa’s grace had abandoned him long ago. And with any luck, Quaritch’s soul would never find peace. Never find acceptance. Spider exhaled slowly, running his tongue over dry lips, blinking at the bloodied body at his feet. His hands weren’t even shaking.

-) It was done. His brother avenged. The souls of Neytiri's family are avenged. His debt to the Sullys was paid in full. Everything is calm.

-) A soft rustling pulled his gaze upward. His father's Banshee crouched a few feet away, its golden eyes locked onto Spider with an eerie intensity. Spider tensed, half-expecting it to lunge, to attack, to avenge its fallen rider. But it didn’t. It simply watched. And then, without a sound, it lowered its head. Acceptance. Recognition.

-) As if possessed by something beyond himself, Spider stepped forward, his hand outstretched. His fingertips brushed against the creature’s snout, and for the first time that horrible day, he allowed himself a small, hollow smile. Perhaps it was a good thing that Quaritch never truly bonded to this one.

-) The rest of the Na'vi find him hours later, and Tonowari approaches first, his large shadow stretching over the scene, but he hesitates. The Metkayina chief has seen many battles, many bodies. And yet, this is different. This is a child, soaked in the blood of his own father. Why would a son do this? Spider meets his gaze, his expression empty. He waits for judgment. Condemnation. Something.

-) But when Tonowari speaks, it is not with anger. "The demon is dead." A statement. A fact. The warriors behind him exchange uneasy glances, but none argue. Some murmur in agreement; others simply watch. None move to comfort the boy who did the deed. Perhaps they do not know how.

-) The Sully are more horrified than relieved. Even Neytiri, who should feel the greatest relief of all, does not celebrate. Her bow hand clenches, fingers twitching as though her body is caught between two instincts. To praise him… or to fear him. She does not understand. She had thought she knew hatred. She had felt it burn through her when she held the blade to Spider’s throat on the Sea Dragon, her grief drowning out reason.

-) Jake had told her stories—of how humans could be cruel to their own offspring, how some children were beaten, abandoned, even killed by those who were meant to love them. How those same children woke up one day and decided to kill their parents. She had never believed it. Not until now. She watched Spider wipe the blood from his blade with mechanical precision, his movements too calm, too practiced. There is no triumph in his face, no relief, no sorrow.

Just a hollow emptiness.

-) Something dark and quiet has settled in the boy’s chest, a coldness that should not exist in one so young. The boy named Spider died on the Sea Dragon. Drowned beneath the weight of Neytiri’s hate, choked on the understanding that he would never belong. And what remains in his place is something else. Something Tonowari's people and the Sullys do not understand. Something they accept but fear all the same.

-) Jake takes a step forward, but Spider lifts a bloodied hand, stopping him before he can speak. "Don’t." His voice is hoarse, flat. "Your son has been avenged. The debt is paid. I am done. We are done." Jake stares, tears in his eyes, something unspoken hanging between them. "Kid, I never wanted this--" Spider turns his back, mounting the ikran with the ease of someone who had done it a thousand times before. And then he was gone. The wind howled as the graceful creature lifted itself into the sky, carrying Spider higher, farther, into the unknown. Jake’s voice rose behind him, calling his name. Kiri's voice is the loudest, crying and screaming for him, but he hardens his heart. They call his name. Spider does not return. Spider does not look back.

[winterinhimring]

Jin-Woo is the "introvert who got adopted by an extrovert and...okay, guess we're friends now" friend and Jin-Ho is the "extrovert saw introvert and adopted them" friend, but at the same time, neither of them has ever made a friend before, Jin-Ho imprinted on the first person to offer him any kind of guidance and protection, even incidental and half-hearted as Jin-Woo's efforts were, and Jin-Woo has no idea why this human golden retriever puppy has started following him around. Oh, and Jin-Ho thought he was a serial killer for a hot minute when they first met. Their relationship fascinates me.

[son-of-avraham]

As I've gotten deeper in conversion, I have increasingly imagined jewish life throughout time. And what I mean by that is...

So when I looked at the Western Wall before this (maybe a few years ago), I just saw a wall. It held no deeper meaning than that. I imagined nothing when I saw that.

But now when I look at the wall or even when I'm praying idly, I'm imagining myself in the temple when it stood there. It's bright outside - a summer day so bright, I think the temple will blind me. A soft wind surrounds me. I'm stood in the middle of a huge crowd of people, simply observing. Women pass by me in small crowds, laughing and talking. Some of these women are wrangling their small children who keep running away, laughing like it's a game. And men walk by smelling of spices. The air is light, the city around bustling with people living fulfilling, meaningful jewish life. The wall now symbolizes that jewish life, and even though it's not just about the temple when I imagine it, it means something to me.

I think that's the result of seeing myself in judaism, turning the "you" into a "we," and I feel about this what I must imagine a married couple feels.

[jjsanguine]

Style's father: you've got to get your finances in order before you get married after all

Style: married? old man, we just stared dating lmao

Style's father: before I die at least

Fadel:

Fadel: give me five years then. I'll save to and come talk to you, father.

[rxttenfish]

i still find it absurd how many people lose their shit over anglerfish and other deep sea fish and talk threateningly about how scary and awful they are, and then you look at them and how big they actually are, and they're just like, the size of your hand, maybe. like this isn't even a swarm situation, they're notoriously solitary. it makes more sense to be the token trope of a person standing on top of a chair screaming about a mouse.

[branmer]

everyone is having babies at the moment

[sadhorsegirl]

i just do think that a lot of leftist conversations surrounding works of art that want to talk about violence or god forbid pacifism at all are severely limited. which isn't to say that i don't believe violence can be a liberating force or that some narratives around all violence being bad are poorly written. but it can so easily spill over into this extreme way of reading that basically considers all literature and media to be guidebooks for real action rather than just kind of authors giving an idea a ponder lmao. like. i think stories that talk about how hurting other people can provoke complicated, even negative emotions in us have value

so seeing people argue that wicked is too liberal or whatever because elphaba didn't want to hurt the kids to get to madame morrible is always kind of funny to me. like 1) it always reads as I'm A Tough Guy posturing to me 2) people complaining it's just a transparent thought experiment when like yeah duh it is lol you got em there 3) i don't think the book is even necessarily saying she made the right call on that one; if she'd successfully killed madame morrible at that point a lot certainly would have been different! there's no guarantee that fiyero would have lived but it's certainly a possibility, and either way i think it would have changed the way elphaba saw her own agency in the world at the very least. i think we are supposed to consider it and ultimately look back on it and go maybe she should have risked killing those kids.

but beyond any moral argument i think it's another case of totally ignoring the actual themes of the book as it stands in favor of a surface level reading that takes everything in the book as "truthful" and at face value. the story is clearly fixated on the difference between good and evil without ever giving totally clear answers, but one of the few it seems to lean towards is the idea that children are uniquely positioned to be good, and are slowly morally weakened as they age and grow more knowledgeable about the world. which is an argument that also doesn't exist in a vacuum! maguire has a PhD in children's literature and when you pair that with how clearly he is writing wicked as a kind of excavated Victorian novel it makes sense why he might engage with these ideas.

both boq and glinda have scenes that associate their sexual awakening with death, the fact that it's also a pseudo-campus novel about how much potential college students have in their youth that they slowly either cash in on or lose entirely as they settle into their adult selves, and the positioning of dorothy v lurline as child saints that can (in dorothy's case, inadvertantly) save oz really all speak to this kind of perspective that children and adolescence are a precious class that need to be carefully guarded and are also capable of radical change in part because they can see the world and it's problems with new eyes.

AND THEN you pair all of that with the fact that elphaba is positioned as the only child within the narrative that sees herself as of unworthy of that supposed purity. she takes on so much shame from her childhood, and ultimately from how frex perceives her as a spiritual punishment, that she literally believes she does not have a soul as an adult. so it's kind of like she is at odds with the moral calculus of the entire narrative in how she perceives herself, and watching her struggle with moral issues generally is interesting because of that but anything that has to do with children specifically even more interesting. also. she very much almost certainly killed manek aka a known child via magic bad vibes glare so like. what's going on over there

[jinxed-sinner]

Alright here's my full (possibly hot) take on redesigning Hazbin Hotel characters and making a video showcasing those redesigns while you criticize the official designs.

First and foremost, you are redesigning someone else's OCs. Hazbin Hotel is, in essence, a passion project for Viv. How she talks about it makes that incredibly clear to me. The only difference between Hazbin Hotel and, for example, the story I'm developing surrounding some of my D&D OCs is that Hazbin Hotel got picked up by a streaming service and is significantly more popular than most passsion projects get.

Personally if someone wanted to redesign my D&D OCs, I wouldn't mind it, in fact I'd probably think it was really cool that someone would want to redesign one of my OCs to be closer to their tastes in terms of what they like to draw. I would, however, be made incredibly uncomfortable if someone made a video redesigning them where they also pointed out everything they thought was wrong with the designs. I didn't design these specific D&D characters to be 1-to-1 accurate to their classes in D&D or to look professionally designed. I designed them how I wanted them to look for the story I'm telling because I don't plan to ever play them in a campaign. The main character Avlan is a paladin, and I can acknowledge that his design might not look exactly like a paladin. One of the tabaxi in the story (Ice) is a bard and the other (Spark) is a ranger, and I acknowledge that their classes might not come across well in their designs. The single tiefling I've designed for this story (Tragedy) is a cleric but might not come off as one in their design. But I specifically designed them to be easy for me to draw because I want to be able to tell this story through my art. Having someone say "oh, Avlan's armor isn't paladin enough!" or "Avlan's fur colors and patterns should be closer to a wild rabbit's because harengon shouldn't be based on domestic rabbit colors!" would fucking hurt (especially because I'm so attached to Avlan, but it would hurt just as much if similar comments were made about Ice, Spark, or Tragedy). I am so passionate about these characters and being told their designs are bad or wrong in some way would be like a stab in the heart, and it would still feel like a stab in the heart if this story ever got a massive fandom behind it. Giving Avlan more complex armor because you think it'd look cool or just want to see what it'd look like? Sure, if I could draw more complex armor I'd give him more complex armor too. Giving him more complex armor but also shitting on the armor I decide to draw him with? My motivation to draw him in his armor, potentially draw him period, would be dead for WEEKS.

Why is it suddenly okay just because someone's passion project was picked up by Amazon Prime? Why is it suddenly okay to be "fixing" someone's character designs just because the project has a much bigger budget than most artists get and is on a popular streaming service? It's not. I don't care if you're a professional character designer, or think a specific character would look better with certain traits, or just don't like the character designs.

Hazbin Hotel is still Vivienne Medrano's passion project, and redesigning her characters and making videos talking about everything you think is "wrong" with them is, honestly, disgusting. You can make videos explaining your choices in your redesigns without putting down the designs that already exist, whether you like them or not. Me thinking Lucifer looks better with his tail not restricted to his full demon form doesn't suddenly mean I don't like his official design, because I fucking love it. If you wouldn't do it to an artist whose passion project is just a webcomic here on Tumblr, don't fucking do it to an artist whose passion project got picked up for a cartoon by a big streaming service (or any company for that matter).

[oldtestleper]

I really like the theory that harmony is part of the “old guard” of lumon employees/kier acolytes who severed thru rituals of meditation, prayer, and mortification before the chip was invented (paraphrasing straight from the post). I think it’s really supported by the fact that when she walked (drove) away from lumon she stopped existing

[amegeddon]

Me: wow I'm so cool and strong and unbeatable with my Caliban frame! I could get through a whole mission's reward pool with ease!

The devious Lua Conjunction survival: Ok but what if I just rapidly drained all your life support :)

[gothicprep]

ngl whenever I see people try to argue that things like adhd, depression, anxiety, etc aren’t expressions of neurochemistry but are instead a reaction to capitalism or something diabolically stupid like that, it always makes me think of this old tweet:

if aliens landed on the planet tomorrow and their only measurement of earth culture was our posts, they’d probably think capitalism is a synonym for general malaise.

[stillnessinthemadness]

No Need For Techniques

"You don’t have to sit down and burst a blood vessel pounding out the details of your desire. You can imagine as you walk down the street."

-THE FORMING OF CHRIST IN YOU Neville Goddard June 23, 1969

[feralsneeze]

Not sneeze just mental health rambling in the tags