hermann gottlieb is a visibly disabled neurodiverse canon victim of abuse from a parental figure that left him unable to comprehend the world in anything but numbers because ‘i can hide behind them they are never angry' and despite the fact that the world did nothing but disappoint him and hurt him from his early childhood on he still tries his best to save it to the point of sacrificing his own health
he was devastated when he was proven right about the triple event instead of gleeful and full of schadenfreude like you’d think he would be, because he didn’t care about being right, he only cared about how many people would be hurt by the result of his correct prediction
he’s so so so brave and selfless and was willing to potentially lay down his life to save someone who did nothing but bully him for 10 years (although tbf hermann gave as good as he got)
and people who don’t understand that there’s more to him than being a boring rationalist with a stick up his arse evidently haven’t thought about his character at all because yes, hermann gottlieb believes in numbers because when the numbers come out wrong it’s a fault that can be traced back to him and fixed, and not an unwavering fact of life that he has to accept and learn to live with like his disability or his father
but he’s able to recognise when it’s appropriate to hide behind them and when it’s not because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have stood by the PPDC when the entire world turned away from them; he would be spearheading the wall building effort like his father did because that’s what the numbers told people was the right thing to do
but he didn’t. because most of all hermann gottlieb believes in people, in humanity. and that’s what defines him.
Whenever I watch Spock’s “live long and go fuck yourselves” scene in the first reboot movie I mourn the fact that Kirk wasn’t present because his reaction would have been gold like can we have an au where he was and is just there in the background like
“When death reached out its hand,
you should have cowered. When you felt the
flames of hell licking at your insides, you were not
supposed to draw closer to the fire.
I watched you disembowel the Earth, saw you pluck
flowers from your mother’s garden and gouge
your fingers into its open wounds,
trying to pry secrets out from the soil.
Everything green started to shrivel
and die when I entered the meadow, but you didn’t
flinch away; instead you kissed me voracious,
like I was something dark you’d tugged
out of reluctant soil.
I wanted your hands, still caked in dirt,
pressing into my naked back.
I thought you’d understand me. Both of us
wanting what we shouldn’t. I know your mother
must have warned you about gods like me.
Tell her I am not a selfish lover. Tell her how
I kneel at your altar and crush the berries
of your hips into wine. That I worship you.
That we spread each other open like flowers
blooming in the night. You wanted to see
what paradise looked like drenched in moonlight,
so I brought you home with me.
When you stood before the gates of hell,
all the beasts lowered their heads
and bowed at your feet.
Everything I have belongs to
you — my wife, my queen.
You are so much flesh and blood,
so much heaving, pulsing, breathing life.
You make the death in me tremble.
I am forever yours.”—'Hades' | Anita O. (via facina-oris)
“He lit a cigarette. His glass of whiskey lit a cigarette. “I can only truly love my dead best friend,” he said, “but not in a gay way. Women wouldn’t understand. They’re too gay.” Both of the cigarettes agreed.”—from Mallory Ortberg’s hilarious “Male Novelist Jokes.” (via coketalk)
“Potter has done too much for me for me to ever want to shit all over it. I’m never going to say: ‘Don’t ask me questions about that’. I remember reading an interview with Robert Smith from The Cure. Somebody said to him: ‘Why do you still wear all that makeup, don’t you feel a bit past it?’ And he said: ‘There are still 14-year-olds coming to see The Cure for the first time, dressed like that. I’d never want to make them feel silly.’ It’s a similar thing with Potter. People are still discovering those books and films. It would be awful for them to find out the people involved had turned their backs on it. Though sometimes, people do come up and say ‘I loved you in The Woman in Black,’ which is really sweet. That’s them knowing that it matters to me that I’ve done other stuff.”—Daniel Radcliffe for London Magazine (x)