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#i had been sitting on this for days
sisterdivinium · 1 year
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Genetic engineering, DNA modification, tested it on herself... Why would Jillian go through all this trouble? Adoption would be easier, surrogacy wouldn't be an issue for a woman with so much money, so why this devotion to medical science, to gene manipulation?
This doesn't seem very logical unless we take one step further in examining her characterisation as a sort of Virgin Mary character implied by her clothing and framing during season one: a man is never mentioned in connection to Michael's conception, either as donor or father... Possibly because Michael has no father. Jillian has made him up from scratch or, at least, using only her own genetic material.
This would surely equate to an awesome "medical marvel" and it would accomplish two additional things: first, it would account for just how sick Michael needs to be so that an extremely rare substance that doesn't even belong to this world can be his sole hope in surviving (the result of a miscalculation, an unforeseen mutated gene, some error in Jillian's design, the absence of something); and second, reproduction without the aid of man ("sinless", sexless) not only ties Jillian's character more closely to the theme of the holy mother, it also more strongly makes a Jesus figure out of Michael.
This is significant because it makes him into a designated saviour: Michael, too, "dies", crossing to "the other side" and later returning with the mission of saving humanity, which is the role he is sure he will play during all of season two. This story has been told before, the structure is the same and we all know it. He mirrors Christ in his being born of a woman untouched by man, in going beyond life and back, in being tasked by a higher power to act for others in his sacrifice. It is a destiny clearly written out for him, a classic narrative, a hero's journey neatly set up for Michael to accomplish and all he has to do is follow the script.
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And yet, doing everything right, by the book, Michael ultimately fails.
If, according to all of the doubts awakened by the developments in Warrior Nun (is Adriel's realm not Heaven? Is he not an angel? Is Reya God? Is Jesus just as alien as Adriel? Etcetera), the Catholic church's teachings are all twisted, incomplete, when not simply ignorant of all that is true in spiritual, metaphysical matters, then this saviour narrative that constitutes the foundation of the institution itself is doomed — as well as whatever guidance it could supply.
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I was discussing with @halobearerhavoc earlier about (among many other intriguing things) how myth informs the show and how it might predict Reya's fall, but also how that event would necessarily depart from how it plays out in the original myth. That is due to the fact that our protagonist here is Ava, a woman, and that this tiny little fact of sex alone forces a shift in how things are presented, in which values are prioritised, in how conflict is treated, escalated or resolved — this applies here as well.
Michael was the textbook redeemer, he was made for this, brought up by Reya with this explicit purpose and with the acquired conviction that he was the key to it all.
Ava, on the other hand, is a product of coincidence, of accident, of the unfathomable. She is already a rupture in tradition — dead and brought back, unknowingly, unwillingly the "usurper" of the halo, inserting herself in the line of bearers at random when she doesn't even seem to have any belief... Ava exists outside of tradition. To Michael's determined "Destiny", she is the one imbued with free will (it isn't out of guilt or duty that she returns to the Cat's Cradle, but through Mary's sympathy, through her own understanding and action). Ava is the unplanned factor, contrasted with Michael who was so planned that his life might have begun inside a Petri dish.
It isn't determinism that will save us, a mantle of glory woven by someone else wanting to place it upon our shoulders regardless of our own wishes; it isn't a decrepit institution or some despotic deity that will define us or what we do; it isn't the heavy, malodorous layers of ancient mould gathered over the endless tomes of Established Tradition or the carefully made calculations of arrogant scientists who think they can predict and explain and control everything.
Salvation cannot be through what Michael represents: an imposed duty, a stagnant, hackneyed story.
A story, we would do well to remember, which was already used to subjugate others, whatever its initial intentions might have been; Jillian certainly didn't predict what would be of her son and surely the primitive Christians didn't see into the future to understand what their devotion and their modes of its transmission would cause, yet it came to happen. The extermination of the Cathars, the persecution of pagans, the burning of "witches", the suppression of indigenous beliefs, activities and lives, to name but a few of the atrocities committed in the name of this one story...
So it cannot be Michael, embodying this narrative so well, that will bring about a fortunate ending to humanity's troubles.
Instead, salvation comes through Ava. She herself might be inhabited by a number of parallels with Christ, but she also carries freedom, an outsider's view which makes the inside so see-through, love, an ability to move outside of what had been previously set for her by someone else (one might even argue that these are the traits that made Christ before the story surrounding him came about)...
The walls built around her needn't contain her — and, phasing as she does, they do not.
Moreover, what would have been the real ending to Reya's plan, had it been followed exactly as it should have? The divinium bomb did hit Ava in the end, but wouldn't it have been worse had she not been interrupted in running up to Michael while he immobilised Adriel during the televised freak circus?
Ava's unpredictability, her impulse, her innate need to act with free will rather than constricted by what others dictate — Ava is the foil to fate itself, the foil to a structure, to a hierarchy that has been festering and rotting from the beginning of time, it should seem.
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The hero of this story could only ever be her.
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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The indescribable tension between an overworked and underpaid smut writer, and his biggest fan hater.
(for @frummpets)
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one of my favorite things about zedaph is that on a server full of people that find strange and oft-overlooked minecraft mechanics or rare events and then see just how far they can push them in the name of spectacle or efficiency or world-breaking, zed is over here finding these mechanics in order to do the weirdest things he can think of in as entertaining a manner as possible
like i 100% have faith in zedaph's theoretical ability to be just as efficient or spectacular or world-breaking. if he wanted to do that stuff, i trust that he absolutely could. but thats so far from being his priority. instead, hes going to spend around a week of irl time focused entirely on eventually having the good luck to spawn in something insanely rare so that he can convert it into something even rarer, the result of which being something that 99% of the server reacts with complete and utter shock that it even exists in the first place, just because its zany and funny and he wanted to. and i love that
#zedaph#hermitcraft#genuinely i adore the clucky few project im not even done watching the episode and i had to pause and make this post#i saw impulses video first and went ''that HAS to be some sort of datapack or something-''#only to immediately go ''no. no it cant be. because this is zed#and its practically a trademark of his to push the limits of the game as far as possible in the direction least expected#not for the purpose of efficiency or spectacle or intimidation or whatever like some players who push limits#but purely for the purpose of making something so funny you cant help but laugh at whats going on#and maybe being a bit impressed that he ever thought of it in the first place''#at which point i went ''holy shit. since its zed doing this. somehow he ACTUALLY got a villager on a chicken. with no cheats. thats INSANE'#i was relieved when i checked my subscriptions to see what the next video i had to watch was and saw he would be next in line#bc if i had to sit through 19 other hermits videos before i could watch his and find out what the fuck he was doing i would have been so sa#sidenote but i feel like a zed video where he interacts with this many other people all in the same video is so rare#idk i didnt watch season 9 and i know he started collabing a lot more w/ other hermits then#so maybe its not nearly as rare these days#but like the last one that *i* saw where he interacted with this many people at once was towards the end of season 8#when all the people he experimented on earlier in the season came back to experiment on him#and like i would like zeds videos with or without the collabs. but its a lot of fun to see him interact with people#so its very cool to me when he does it with a lot of people all in the same video
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skelenova · 7 months
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idk they're kinda cute 2gether...
timothy belongs to @pinetreevillain
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shrimparts-blog1890 · 3 months
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👩‍🍳👌🏻
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legionofpotatoes · 6 months
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Here's a second N7 Day surprise, thanks yet again to @swaps55 - we added Eden Prime to our lineup of Mass Effect destinations! I don't think I need to explain the profound importance of this one; the moment I laid eyes on a gas bag I knew I would pay respect to it in art form one day. Was just a matter of time and sufficient accumulation of skill. But we finally did it, folks.
As an added bonus, we helped tease the final piece to today's treasure hunt for Mass Effect's newest reveal over on the dreaded bird website. Caused quite the hubbub but was certainly a fun time!
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ghouljams · 9 months
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I do love the mental image you supplied of Price being out there with a broom trying to shoo the Mimic away, like-
Price: Get out of here, shoo!
Mimic: :((
Price: No! Go find another witch to snack on! *whacks*
Mimic: :(((((
You watch from your window as Price leaves your garden. The not-moose moves from one side of the wall towards Price. You aren't sure why that makes your stomach twist. You grip your chest, twisting your shirt in your hand, feeling that warm magic buzz at the tips of your finger again. Price can take care of himself, you're sure of it.
Price feels his tethers pull tight as the mimic walks towards him. The overgrown beast doesn't even have the common courtesy to pretend to be a regular animal. It stares right at him, it's eyes moving in different directions as it attempts to keep its focus on you as well as the new threat. Price cracks his knuckles, moves towards the mimic with the same predatory intent that it had been.
"Fuck off," Price advises the mimic, "kindly."
The mimic stops, shakes it's head. It's lips pull back in what Price is sure is supposed to be a terrifying display. He will admit that the noise it makes is downright unsettling, the sobbing wail that seems to broadcast from the mimic. It's face doesn't move at all, the sound just shakes out of it. Price raises a brow.
"You don't look starving."
Another wail from the mimic, the moose turns and butts its horns against the threshold. The twist of horn against your wards makes even Price grimace. It unhinges its jaw to press the full extent of its teeth against the garden's barrier. Price growls, leaning to reach over the wall to grab your watering can.
The iron burns.
Price twitches, his jaw clenched as his head pulls to one side. The unnatural sting of metal against his skin is almost as unpleasant as the scream the mimic lets out upon seeing it. The glassy eyes of it roll to look at him, it slides its teeth off the threshold like dragging knives through molasses. It gives another wail, almost bargaining. Price weighs the sentiment against the iron in his grasp before swinging the can hard at the mimic.
The creature flinches, stumbling back away from him. It drops its head low, menacing. Price doesn't move except to raise his free hand and make a shoo-ing motion.
"If you're not going to leave on your own I have no qualms makin' you."
The mimics eyes roll between Price and the house. It's lips curl, tongue lolling out over its razor sharp teeth. The menacing posturing doesn't let up, in fact the mimic almost seems to be challenging that assertion.
"Price," it sobs in your voice. Price's eyes narrow, his grip on the iron watering can tightening. The burn of it bites into his flesh.
"Now you're tryin' to make me mad." He growls, the mimic takes a half step back, "I'm tryin' to be civil, bet you can't even remember that part of yourself."
A step forward, the mimic attempts another show of aggression only to be caught by the swing of cold iron. The metal scrapes fur and flesh from its muzzle, oily blood sloughing off it into the snow before it can pull its skin back together. It scrambles back away from Price, away from your property. The mimic tries another sobbing voice, aiming for sympathy over threats. Isn't it pathetic? Cursed with only might and the decaying sense it once had as a human. If it could just get enough magic...
"Then find another witch to snack on, this one's mine." Though Price imagines any witch it finds will yield the exact same results. Well, maybe not exactly the same. He can't think of a single other fae that would- That would be eager to help? Have the tethers to be called on? The conviction to grab Iron in defense of their- of a witch. God help him this is getting out of hand.
The mimic seems to ponder this for a moment. It's neck twisting its head one way then another, its horns scraping the snowy ground as it does. It lets out an agreeable is terrified scream, before turning and making its way back into the thicket of trees. Price watches it go for a moment before tossing the watering can back towards the fence with a pained swear.
He grips his wrist, staring at the consumed flesh, the sinew revealed by the acidic burn of the iron. His fingers clench and shake, the muscles pulled tight with pain. Behind him the house door opens and closes, the iron back gate creaks, the sound of rapid footsteps through snow reaches him. He turns in time for you to throw your arms around him.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," You squeeze your arms tightly around his shoulders. Price wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you more securely against his chest. You pull away too quickly to cup his face graciously, briefly, between your hands. He can feel his tethers singing for you as you leave his hold, eager to have you close again. His fingers still drag along your waist, reluctant to stop touching you as you turn to grab his injured hand.
Your fingers are so gentle as they graze the outer edges of the wound. Your expression pained, it makes him want to rip his hand from your hold. Instead he lets you finish your exam, his fingers tightening on your waist when you prod a little too hard. You mumble a quiet apology and release his hand, crouching to pick up a handful of snow.
"This might feel a little strange," You tell him, without actually telling him what exactly it is that's going to feel strange. You press the snow against his hand, careful to spread the ice down his fingers as well. Sort of weird that you'd think he'd never iced a burn before.
You lean over his hand, your face close to the snow, close enough he can feel the brush of your breath as you exhale. Then your lips move, and he feels it. The soft shift of the wind, the ringing in his ears, the lacing of his skin knitting back together under rapidly melting ice, the magic that races up his arm and circulates through his heart like a shot of ecstasy. Your grip on his wrist is far flung from the light touches it was, and he sees why now.
Your magic makes him want to jerk away, an involuntary reaction that he tries to steady as soon as it happens. It's hot and molten, it rustles past his ears like a sea breeze, and it is a foreign body invading his own. Price's pulse races, instinct keyed to the highest settings, and you are mouthwatering. All potential power and pretty packaging. He brushes your hair off your neck with his uninjured hand. You're so trusting. He can feel the itch in his teeth, and smell blood.
Price grips your shoulder hard enough to bruise, and leans down to press his teeth to your neck. He can feel your pulse rushing under his tongue, smell your scent under all those lovely herbs. You drop his hand and he's quick to thread it through your hair, to hold your neck long for his consumption. There's no pain, and the tethers between you are so brilliantly warm. No pain. Price blinks. The ringing is gone, the sea breeze gone, you're not holding his hand. You're finished.
He pull back, looks at how you've squeezed your eyes shut, lips thin with fear. That's not right. Fuck.
"Fuck," Price clears his throat, it feels like he hasn't had anything to drink in days, "I'm not gonna hurt you, that's-" He takes his hands off you, as a show of sincerity. Tension bleeds out of you as you open your eyes.
"I told you, it'll feel weird." You tell him, turning quickly to go and grab your watering can. Weird is not how he'd describe it, nor is that how he would've warned about it. But it's done now.
"That was real magic," Price swallows, flexes his fingers now miraculously, magically, healed. You don't miss a step in your quick pace back to your garden.
"It's all real magic," You call over your shoulder, "I just didn't use a buffer this time."
You only turn to look at him when you're closing your garden gate, your smile a little shy and your cheeks pink. You mouth a last 'thank you' and disappear into your house. It's strange. There should be a new tether between you, something solid, something the weight of unfiltered magical expertise, but there's nothing. Even done out of just the kindness of your heart he should have some evidence that you'd done him a service, nobody gives themselves that freely. Even those that do, a recipient would never accept such a gift without a debt; save maybe the few foolish enough to think they're in love.
Fuck.
Fuck.
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rbtlvr · 2 months
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And for a moment, Donnie met Prime's gaze through staticky purple, and let himself smirk. Giving himself that perfect arched brow that Leo called his supreme bitch face. Then he summoned a portal. It was just how Leo said, he only had to think about where he wanted to go.
i'm uh. i'm not normal about firefight @remedyturtles
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dizzybizz · 5 months
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hey, remember 2.3? what was up with that event....
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redraw of a thing from 2021 which was sorta a screencap redraw from that one cutscene
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also oml albedo your in-game model... i am still so sorry to what they did to you and your hair especially.. i hope they go back and revamp it but i dont have high hopes for that happening 😔
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johnslittlespoon · 7 days
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this is me hitting y'all with a "hear me out" on bikeriders!gale and college student leaving!john. pleasepleaseplease think of the cliche daddy issues. the slow burn angst. strong intimidating but softie biker bf pulling up to pretty college bf's house. gale passing his helmet to john while john's parents watch from the kitchen window in horror as their son gets on the back of a rugged tatted man's motorcycle. john stealing gale's hoodie when he stays over so he can 'accidentally' wear it home the next day and bury his face in the smell of gale's cigarettes and cologne and gasoline and open road.
or, alternatively, bikeriders!gale is leaving!john's friend's single dad lmaoo. classic dilf crush trope. john makes a new friend at college and the first time he goes to his house he meets his dad and is like fuck. well, that's it for me. he crushes hard from day one and has no idea gale feels the same way because he's dense and gale's not gonna make the first move obviously. and god, the miscommunication and the secret flirting and the hookups and dancing around feelings because neither is sure if it's more than sex for the other. i could fill three books with this shit genuinely <3
idk i just think the contrast of both of them would be such a fun dynamic to explore and they'd look fucking beautiful together :-)
(this is definitely not me gauging the interest were i to make this my next chaptered fic btw. absolutely not. xx)
(edit: we're going with the first idea lads. world building is happening. i'm in my mind palace. we're yapping under #leaving bikeriders au lol)
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skitskatdacat63 · 3 months
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He is so 🤏
+
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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Turtle hunt gone wrong.
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obsob · 1 year
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big man...why is he so big...(hes full of love)
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danwhobrowses · 5 months
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For anyone else who is gonna struggle surviving the next 3 weeks with the angsty and tense situation of Callowmoore here's a few things from the last 2 episodes that I feel were underrated and will assist in trying to keep me sane/emotionally stable: - Matching messed up hands built for holding - Fearne nervously playing with her hair as she approaches Ashton - Ashton wanted Fearne to be either the last thing they saw if they died or the first thing they saw when they succeeded - Fearne's admittance corroborates Ashley's 4SD revelation that Fearne is in love with someone in the party but doesn't know how to process the emotions - Fearne wanted Ashton to be happy, while Ashton wanted to feel whole so they would be worthy of the Hells - Ashton twice tried to lead a search for Fearne, and instantly clocking onto Chetney saying he followed Fearne - Fearne making herself look as radiant as possible before giving Ashton the cold shoulder - Ashton only rose to Chetney's provocations until he said 'You hurt Fearne' Use how you will
#godspeed my poor damaged psyche#critical role#bells hells#callowmoore#ashton greymoore#fearne calloway#fearne x ashton#ashton x fearne#strangely enough I don't enjoy having a dark and sad pit sitting in my chest day to day#3 weeks and we don't even get a cute M9 reunion in between to distract us? this was worse than Callowmoore's sistergate 3 week wait#also 'a little'? Sweetie people don't jump into lava for a little you got the big L and it's not Lesbian(s)#Feel like Laudna was a bit cruel this ep (Ash has been there for her a ton and she kinda villainized him) but we'll put it down to Delilah#much of Ashton's trauma has been overlooked or left to them to internalize but still nobody has told them that they are loved#and Ashton Greymoore needs to be told they're loved! (by Fearne)#but yeah time for more positive mental scenarios that 99% won't happen (but when that 1% does ho boy)#couldn't have just had Fearne go 'no talking' and sleep on Ash's chest to hear their heartbeat as her touch soothes Ash's pain could we?#or final fight scenarios where Ludinus is a walking harness and Ashton tricks them into absorbing their titan powers so he'd explode#they could've even had a talk in the woods because they wanted to find her so bad but was not gonna test Imogen's patience#I for one though will have at least one where Ashton seeks out Mori for advice (Fearne too but separately)#Tal I need you to use all your romantic arsenal in the feywild (Percy's worst travel experience) to win back Ashley's beautiful faun girl#bonus prompts for 'You will always be perfect to me' and 'Promise you'll come back to me' they pop up often in my scenarios#taliesin jaffe#ashley johnson
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newbeesims · 6 months
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seasons tux recolors — by newbeesims
i recolored this seasons tux for all your formalwear needs! the original tux has its fair share of swatches, but i knew it would be so much more useful if it came in the same classic colors i used for my base game suit recolors. perfect for any black tie weddings, glamorous parties, or just a fancy night out! as always, more love for all the masc-framed sims! 🍷✨
requires seasons
teen - elder
12 new swatches (6 suit colors, each with solid color and black accent versions)
download for free (sfs, no ads)
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arkyholic · 1 year
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audiobooks are so good actually
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