#i know this isn't entirely accurate to how wars work
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certified-scoundrel · 1 year ago
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so... now that i think about it- i feel like a bullet catch might not have been the best choice to perform in a room full of soldiers. personally, i wouldn't want to spend my night off from getting shot at watching someone get shot at...
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merrysithmas · 1 year ago
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re: nursing & Nurse Chapel in SNW @ Paramount/the fandom
new trekkies have begun to notice that Nurse Chapel eventually becomes a doctor in TOS canon. i'd like to challenge the stale (and rife with outdated sexism) misconception of that event with a more modern lens that hopefully SNW can retcon...
Christine does not stop becoming a nurse to become a doctor. She can be a doctor AND a nurse.
A DNP (clincial doctor of nursing practice) or nurse phd (researcher) or nurse educator/researcher (phd). One of my main issues with TOS canon is how they made Chapel "upgrade" from a nurse to a doctor which is extremely outdated and inherently insults the field of nursing (implying medicine is a hierarchy which it isnt - and SNW does a good job showing the partnership btwn mbenga &her). Most nurses never venture into physicianship but instead pursue doctorates in their chosen field: nursing. Because they want to be nurses.
I hope this is one thing they retcon and make clear she is a clinical doc of nursing (who have all the same diagnostic/prescriptionist responsibilites as a doctor of medicine) or some other variant of doctor of nursing.
Christine likely became a nurse because nurses have diff freedoms (and a closer patient relationship) and can expand to work in innumerable specialities - as nurses are trained as multi-specialty healthcare providers - whereas doctors are more limited and stick to their specialty. She chose to be a nurse because she wanted to be a nurse.
People choose nursing over becoming a physician for MANY reasons - and let me tell you, it's absolutely 100% not because the doctors are more intelligent lol. Nursing is a multifaceted field which consists of myriad opportunities, learning experiences, specialities, 1:1 patient connections, and freedoms that a physician will never have. Nurses can work in an ER, OR, Labor and Delivery, community health center, an herbalist shop, someone's home at their bedside, and research lab all in the same week. Physicians cannot do that - they have various legal and technical limitations (still a great field, but different).
Nurses are a medical jack of all trades - that is what Christine is.
An accurate portrayal of nursing is hardly ever shown in modern media which either erases nurses entirely (see House or ER or any other medical show), or sexistly mischaracterizes the field and ignores that nurses are hard scientists who partake in research, war, and can attend up to 10 yrs of schooling in their specialities (more than an MD). Not to mention that it is nurses who train in and learn the practical knowledge of medicine (injections, sterilization, IV admin, patient positioning for expelling mucuous, suctioning sputum, etc - doctors do not train in practical medicine and if they do they do not practice it).
If you are at the hospital and you have a head nurse and a physician resident making a call - guess who is going to have the last word. It isn't the doctor. And that is a respected norm.
It is thrilling to watch as Christine participated in research, engages in community outreach, joins fellowships, continues her education, assists surgery, diagnoses patients, engages in war and Starfleet, and cares at the bedside.
The old fashioned notion of "just a nurse for now" is about as stale as some of the sexist/misogynist concepts in TOS - and Christine is a GREAT example of a modern nurse character, highly accurate, and SNW would do well to correct further misconceptions of the field by making her an example of a Doctor of Nursing.
As far as I know, being a trekkie forever, they never stated what kind of doctor Chapel was - perfect opportunity.
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lyss-sketchbox · 4 months ago
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(To start, I've been enjoying reading your and folks' various perspectives on Natlan, it's interesting to see different breakdowns/thoughts)
I do have a theory on the flippancy though, and I may very well be horribly wrong, but I suspect it's intentional. The whole nation is being taught, more or less, that this war they're fighting is a game. It's fine if you die, we'll bring you back. It's fine if you fight the Abyss, we do it all the time. And yet. We see that folks' Ancient Names can be lost and not recovered, that you can't fully recover from Abyssal corrosion, and that hey, actually, Kachina is a terrified kid when we see that projection of her. It may even be part of why the nation is struggling so much with creating their Contending Fire. I also think Mavuika plays into this narrative.
Primarily, I think (or maybe just hope) her overconfidence is going to be her hubris. Traveller expresses concern about the time she has to gather the warriors and she's non-plussed, "eh, I trust the Wyob". She's got A Plan and it's going to work, according to her. But I dunno about that ma'am. She also says weirdly definitive statements that I don't think are fully accurate like "humans can't know their fate" and "the only thing that unites the Fatui are collecting the gnoses" that lead me to believe she puts full stock in her conclusions as soon as she feels she has an answer and doesn't exactly question any further.
Honestly? It would be nice if they set up this whole thing of the nation being so casual and Traveler buying into it only to tear it, crashing down, around everyone. How long can the nation avoid taking things seriously before everything comes to a head? (Perhaps why Capitano isn't interested in brute-forcing things overall? Or maybe I'm giving him too much credit, lol)
What an interesting take, genuinely
So Mavuika
It would definitely play the part of being a pyro archon and how pyro vision holders are often extremely confident and high spirited. It would make sense if the pyro archon embodies that kind of value.
This also lines up with what the previous anon said about how she wanted to be reincarnated because its HER plan and she wanted to see it through even if it means offing herself early.
(I dont remember the ending dialogue was i did it all at like 4 am so yeah please fight me on my takes)
She also seems very quick to make MASSIVE decisions like using a good chunk of her power to keep the Contending Flame alive right then and there even with the concerns of some people. Then she was just as quick to burn all the mementos gathered for centuries when the group sent to find Kachina didnt make it.
I feel like maybe she couldve waited before keeping the Contending Flame alive. And while the Contending Flame IS more importang than a single girl, based on the time we spent in the Night Kingdom. It doesnt... feel all that long. She couldve waited. Use her power to save us. Rest for a while then fan the Contending Flame. Saving us from the Night Kingdom didnt feel like a permanent loss of power while keeping the Contending Flame alive does.
To be honest, she IS human, WAS human before archonhood. Shes been human TWICE now due to her reincarnation. I can understand humans wanting to prove to higher powers and beings such as fate that they CAN hold power over themselves. But being human, being NATLANIAN means she has worshipped to Wayob as well at some point. Hence putting her faith more into them and their ancient names.
The Plot of Natlan
I will admit here that i am biased and there is only 2 acts so far. For all i know theyre still setting up the chekovs guns and they may pop oh so beautifully in late acts and i am too harsh on the set up acts.
But i can understand if the people of natlan has been trained their entire life to numb themselves of the true horrors of war. Because they live constantly in it, if they are in constant fear, it is not good for morales or the ancient name holders either.
And if they were written to be so chill so that hoyoverse can pull the rug under us even harder then well good on them because i will be COMPLETELY honest.
I cannot see them pulling this without making it cliche or shallow.
Because we all already know SOMETHING is gonna go wrong. The abyss will reach natlan. The contending flame will die. The 6 heroes will reawaken and help Mavuika fight off the abyss for good. We know it will happen. The only issue is how to get there and how to not make it cliche as fuck.
Because for one they pulled the anime training montage for Kachina where we get told she is actually really good, she has been training so hard with Mualani but we literally dont get to see or feel it. But oop she defeated mualani.
They pulled the power of friendship when Mualani talked back to lector in the night kingdom.
They already spoiled how Ororon was the traitor because HE WAS STANDING NEXT TO CAPITANO IN THE TRAILER.
It feels way too messy for me, way too unserious and uncoordinated both in game and advertisement materials. I almost feel like capitano, 1st of the fatui harbinger, probably shouldnt have been responsible for natlan because dude can out espionage them (or maybe natlan and capitano are both as equally uncoordinated who knows).
Well for NOW i think they have a generic base plot. I would be very willing to declare how wrong i was about natlan if act 3-5 managed to fucking mindblow me. But yeah as you can see i am not hopeful that hyv have half the brain you have about the plot.
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lord-squiggletits · 2 years ago
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The thing about Prowl is I don't really think canon was ever trying to frame him as a "necessary evil" or anything along the lines of "he's a shitty person but his work was necessary" like mmm.... That feels very much like something Prowl wants to believe about himself, not something that's actually factually true in reality.
I can't really make a good argument about it because I only remember like a handful of standout Prowl Moments in IDW1 but like... Prowl dropping a bomb on a neutral city and blaming it on the Decepticons is not "a necessary evil," that's a war crime. Prowl trying to destroy the space bridge to Caminus to keep Starscream from getting power over it, dooming the entire planet and its inhabitants to extinction by starvation, is not "a necessary evil," it's a fucking war crime. I feel like trying to frame such drastic measures as him "doing the dirty work of the Autobots" feels way too much like an excuse for actions that actually aren't justifiable. Especially since Prowl himself is far from being the 100% rational guy he thinks he is, considering how often he bases his decisions on things like his anti-Decepticon bias and his general refusal to follow any orders that contradict what he thinks is The Right Thing To Do (TM).
But also I think this is kind of the fault of the narrative of IDW1, since very few Autobots besides Prowl are given the chance to actually be morally gray even when the worldbuilding implicates them in some very morally gray things. Like, for example, JRO adding in the existence of MTOs which implies that the normally squeaky-clean leader Optimus was willing to approve the creation of new soldiers just to throw them into combat (and even the attempts to humanize the MTOs by giving them "an education" were eventually cut down to nothing but combat optimizations). And there's also the fact that Optimus knows about the Wreckers and has been known to call them on missions at least once (Stormbringer), meaning he's very much aware of the Wreckers and their tactics and is willing to call them in for fights when it's necessary.
I don't think you need to use Prowl as a crutch to make the Autobots morally gray. I think the Autobot leadership (or at least, Optimus, since few people besides him or Prowl seem to have major tactical command over the army as a whole) is plenty morally gray enough on its own, because the nature of war is inherently morally gray no matter how righteous your cause is. Reducing the lives of your own people into numbers on maps, harvesting resources, bringing MTOs to life just to die in a war they practically have no stake in, those things are enough.
And tbh it kind of bothers me when people try to saddle Prowl with the "dirty work of the Autobots", not just because it frames Prowl's blatantly evil actions as some sort of savior act taking the blame from the rest of the Autobots (which isn't even accurate, because the blame for war crimes falls on the entire army as an institution rather than one person), but because it downplays the moral grayness of the Autobots and pretends that no Autobot BESIDES Prowl ever participated in morally gray actions, which simply isn't true.
TLDR: Prowl isn't as much of a hero as he thinks he is because committing atrocities in the name of your cause doesn't change the fact that they're atrocities (and may not have even been justified). However, painting Prowl as the "token evil teammate" of sorts also places too much blame for the atrocities of war on him in particular, when in reality that's a burden shared by Optimus Prime and any other members of the Autobot military command structure.
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cminoko · 11 months ago
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Change these to LU boys to whichever ones you see fit because I love incorrect quotes and think it’s funny. This is a conversation I heard passing by friend groups lol.
Person 1: Is a hotdog a sandwich?
Person 2: No!
Person 1: Yes it is!
Person 2: Ok explain!
Person 1: The bun is on both sides of the meat!
Person 2: That doesn’t make it a sandwich!
Person 1: Ok ok, Hey! Ashley! Is a hotdog a sandwich??
Person 3: No! It’s a taco!
Person 1: Omg Ashley! That’s racist!
😂
It started small, and then I just didn't stop. Also, I've never done the weed because it just recently became legal where I live, so this probably isn't accurate. Should I try the weeds?
I'm under the impression that Time is still a little shit, he's just got more self control so he's not a shithead by physically annoying the chain but by bringing up these mind blowing thoughts (mind blowing to someone who's never encountered a hot dog before)
So I read this and thought, what if the chain was in modern!reader's world for the time being and they were introducing the chain to all kinds of modern foods. Tacos and hotdogs obvi, but also pizza, cheez-its, brownies.
Reader has entrusted Time with all things electronic while they work and shop. They even wrote an instruction manual on how to use the stove. What they didn't write down, however, is the difference between the brownies in the zip lock bag vs the brownies in the freshly baked pan.
Now the entire chain is high and reader comes home to Time asking if hotdogs are sandwiches.
Four: No!
Wars: Yes it is!
Time: Okay explain
Wars: The bun is on BOTH SIDES!
Four: THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT A SANDWHICH!
Both Wars and Four are screaming their arguments. Wild is trying to eat the hotdog in one bite. Wind is on the verge of tears because his brothers are fighting. Sky is staring at the ceiling like it's the most interesting thing in the world. Hyrule and Legend are watching their reflections in the TV. Twilight is the only one acting normal.
Time turns to Reader: Hey! Is a hotdog a sandwich?
Reader, who wants to see how far she can take this: No! It's a Taco!
Twilight, who's been trying to be as politically correct as possible since he got to Reader's world: Oh my goddesses! Reader, that's racist!
Thanks for reading! I know I took some (lots) creative liberty with this so if you don't like it please leave some CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. I'm still pretty new to writing on Tumblr so if you have ideas on how to make my writing better suited to the platform lmk 🩵
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mdhwrites · 2 months ago
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Why Didn't I Ask for Amphibia Asks?
I wanted asks for something I liked. That I would be positive about. I love Amphibia. I think the show is great with Marcy being its only real weak point. Why didn't I ask for Amphibia asks then? I know my audience. You guys like cartoons, not gacha games. So why HSR instead?
Because I would not have gotten Amphibia asks. I think in my entire time since finishing Amphibia, I have been sent ONE ask that even MENTIONS the amphibians and it was just to pick a favorite and talk about them. Or, well, I should say mentions them without becoming entirely unhinged about how "Why isn't our frog show about the literally only two characters that exist in it, Sasha and Marcy?"
I have stated before that the rabidity of the fandom about these two, how I have seen them genuinely slaughter some of the best cartoon writing I have literally ever seen just justify why these two shouldn't have gotten more time, has made me like them less. I got two asks, and thank you for the asks, for Amphibia just now... And both about Sasha and Marcy. One being about something I tried to litigate in the past where they argued "Like Celestia, Luna, and Discord, Marcy and Sasha are totes main characters," like that is even an accurate assessment... And the other asking me to ignore that I don't give a fuck about the show showing their relationship and to theorize on what Sasha and Marcy's relationship are. Not the end of that blog's statement where I mentioned that the Plantars actually have really deep ties to questions facing Amphibia and its themes but just Sasha and Marcy.
Always Sasha and Marcy. NEVER ANYTHING BUT SASHA AND MARCY.
I genuinely do not give a flying fuck about those two anymore. I love Sasha's arc. I think Marcy is a well done nerd, potentially better than any in TOH. I think there's a lot of good to say about them but I have no interest in anymore. Not when I'll just hear, "Yeah, and that's why the show committed war crimes by not giving them more episodes!"
So NO, I do not want Amphibia asks. I potentially never want to see another Amphibia ask in my life because at least with TOH, there is an interest in the show itself, instead of whatever warped perspective the Amphibia fandom has where the name was actually St. James. I would rather have people who's perspective I at least understand, who nominally actually still want the work they got, than people who would burn it all down just because their favorite characters didn't take up 90% of the run time.
THEY DON'T EVEN TALK ABOUT ANNE FOR GOD'S SAKE!
So yeah, I'd much rather have Star Rail asks while I'm trying to focus on analysis I like. Have a good day everyone, see you next tale, sorry for the aggression.
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puppyguppy · 1 year ago
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You aren't sure what to expect.
To be fair, neither are the students, probably. As far as anyone knew, this hadn't been in any other years' lesson plans; nor had it been in this one's. But, this class has been special from the very start; in both definitions (and extremes) of the word. They'd survived a war, after all. They'd grown up so fast, too fast -- so, it's sort of a suckerpunch, and kind of silly, to see them all here still. As third years now, give or take, sitting in their same assigned, but rebuilt and refurbished seats. Wearing the same UA uniforms, except for one specific detail. One specific difference.
They are all wearing aprons over top those uniforms.
Which is also sort of silly.
To see. And to think about.
Because, for as grown up as all these students, these heroes are now, some things had inevitably fallen to the wayside while learning how to win a war, and studying how to survive said war thereafter. Such a thing as cooking just hadn't been of any importance to practice.
It had been put on the back burner, so to speak.
That isn't to say every student is incompetent in a kitchen. You know for a fact Bakugou can not only cook in one, but command one. Sato, of course, has to be able to bake, what with the base of his quirk. And, from what you have seen, Midoriya...manages. So, today's lesson isn't really for them.
But then there's he rest of them.
There's Mineta. There's Kaminari. There's Sero. There's --
Todoroki.
There's you, who'd been asked to assist in today's impromptu culinary course. You can only assume they would've preferred Lunch Rush, your boss, but on such short notice -- well. The students still needed lunch. Or, maybe, they figured your own quirk might come in handy? Doubtful, but, you could wonder. You could hope. It isn't anything special, your quirk. Preservation. More specifically, more accurately... preservatives. You can slightly alter the state of organic material, such as food, to remain safely consumable under varying conditions, for far longer than naturally achieved. It isn't much, but when entire cities were left without power during the war?
For the first, and only time in your life, you'd felt like a hero.
But now you are back in a classroom. The same classroom as all those other heroes. You are at work. And they are students.
And then there's. Him.
Their teacher. Their sensei.
And Not-So-Underground-Anymore Hero, Eraserhead.
Aizawa Shouta.
Also in an apron.
Oh, fuck.
"Alright, listen up," he drawls, visible eye slowly sweeping across the classroom. By now, the students know to shut up and pay attention. That man has saved their lives a hundred times over, but...the same could be said about them. A lot of them call him Dad now. He pretends to hate it. It's downright adorable. You probably shouldn't know that, but you see a lot, learn a lot, eavesdropping during lunch hour.
All eyes are on him, as he takes a moment to tie up his hair. With a scrunchie. Which journeys from a pocket, to a wrist, and then between his teeth, before finally reaching his head.
The bun is sloppy in the best way possible.
Internally, you stand to attention, like he might randomly pick you out of all people in the room, and tell you to drop and give him twenty. Or something. Instead of cooking something, or cleaning something, or whatever the real reason it is that you are here.
Outwardly, you clasp your hands behind your back and rock on your feet. Waiting for just as much instruction as the students.
"It has come to my attention that some of you -" those 'some' seem to sink in their seats; all save for Todoroki, anyways, who still lacks a single shred of shame. Or sense. One of the two. Or maybe both. Bless him. "Still don't know how to take care of yourselves. I know I've always stressed the importance of accepting help from others, especially those studying alongside to specifically support you, but. Never once have I implied that any of you should abuse the convenience and accessibility of takeout. Or TV dinners." Aizawa heaves a sigh, and at the same time, rolls up the sleeves of his usual jumpsuit.
"In a pinch, any food is better than none. But, there's no beating the balance and nutritional value of a home cooked meal. Which should be different for each of you; catered specifically for your metabolisms, strengths, and quirks." As he continues, he leans forward and rests both his hands on the flat of his desk.
The position stretches the apron across his chest, the fabric taut since having to fit and synch over the bulk of his jumpsuit. It shatters the illusion that he's slim beneath all that baggage. Which you knew. You know. That he's more shredded than your favorite type of cheese. But, it's something that you so rarely get to see for yourself, that the reminder is like getting dunked in an ice bath.
Your heart hammers through the shiver of fight or flight.
"Frankly, it's embarrassing that I even have to go over this with most of you. But, I'm not about to leave Japan in the hands of heroes that can't even cook their own rice."
"But, isn't that what a rice cooker is for, sir?"
Kirishima means well. You know he does, because he always does. But, good intentions aren't enough to spare him from the power Aizawa's one-eyed glare still holds. You think the kid deserves a pass, though; he's right up there with Bakugou when it comes to calculating and caring about what goes in his gut. Even if he blends most of it up and slams it back as smoothies.
"What I'm going to show you today is a meal so simple any of you could do it. And I mean that. Literally. Any of you could do it, can do it, and will do it, as your assignments. It's quick and easy, but you all need to then collect the appropriate ingredients to curate such a meal into your everyday diet."
The class mutters and mumbles amongst themselves for a moment, while Aizawa starts pulling various supplies out of the drawers in his desk. Cutlery, a cutting board, a hot plate, a wok...a bag of rice, a couple of eggs, green onion, garlic, the usual herbs and spices, and some chicken. It's. Honestly impressive he had all that in there. And maybe. Worrisome? Scary?
It sure is something.
And then there's a spatula waved in your general direction.
"You're here to help, since I only have two hands, and I already know about six other pairs that'll need holding today." He already looks exhausted, but that's also like. Just kind of his thing. He has every reason to be exhausted. And he definitely pulls it off. The permanent, fluffy bedhead that falls around his face (except for when he puts it up, like now). The facial hair that sits between purposefully styled stubble and a state of forever five-o'clock shadow. The bags smudged beneath his eyes and creased into crows feet like eyeliner. On the one hand, he deserves what a lifetime of sleep would do to him. On the other hand, you selfishly want to deprive him of any sleep yourself, if it keeps him looking so, so --
"And, if you don't mind; it'd be nice if you could keep their meals from spoiling until dinner. Or, at least until they can get them to a fridge."
He smirks. At you.
Or, well. He smirks at what he says, but while looking at you. And you wonder how pretty he is when he sleeps, and you picture a load of laundry pulled fresh from a dryer, then dumped on a bed (your bed), warm and rumpled and inviting, beckoning --
An unnatural sounding cough from somewhere in the classroom snaps you out of your spiralling thoughts, and after a swift, startled glance, you realize Shinsou is looking at you. Oh. He can't -- you can't remember. If he can hear thoughts or - or read thoughts. Or not. Surely he wouldn't without consent either way. Right? Your thoughts still feel like your own, and only your own. Still embarrassing though.
"Y-Yeah, sure." You clear your throat, and you smile. Not just at him, but for him. "No problem."
Big problem.
You're way too stupid to be this close to him. Everything has always been in passing, before. The closest you'd ever been had been serving him up the occasional lunch. With a wall of glass between you. Rarely did he ever say anything, or even really look at you. But, you'd watch him leave as you worked. Or sometimes talk to students, fellow faculty staff, etc. Safe. Your thoughts and feelings preserved, just as much as the meals you quirked.
Saved, to ruminate and masticate upon later, in the privacy of your own home.
There's no glass wall here.
But, there are students.
And you have a job.
So, you pull yourself together. If not for your own sake, then Shinsou's.
The lesson proceeds quite...casually. With Aizawa explaining how everything can be cooked in the one, same pan, why he picked the protein that he did, how to know when something is fully, properly cooked...you notice Midoriya taking notes, because of course he is. These aren't your students by any means, but you know enough to not be surprised. Bakugou looks bored, but again, this lesson isn't for him. Todoroki, at least, looks like he's taking the class seriously.
"I really don't care how you cut, or chop, or dice things. It doesn't matter, so long as the pieces are similar enough to cook at the same time."
The sound of quick, efficient slicing fills the classroom, and you're drawn to it; the sight more than the sound of it, like a fly to honey. The way he handles a knife is sure and steady, practiced. The action all in the wrist instead of the hand. He guides the blade against his knuckles, fingers safely guarded. It shouldn't be as fascinating as it is, since his capture weapon is technically made of some kind of metal, and requires ridiculous amounts of precision and accuracy. Obviously, he'd be good with a knife. Duh.
But you are still a fly.
Hungry, dumb, greedy.
A little gross.
And you're stuck (staring) in the honey of his hands.
Chicken, chopped. Green onion, julienned. The rice has been simmering away in the wok from the start -- after Aizawa had demonstrated rinsing said rice at least thrice. Now, the garlic is peeled, assumed and expected to be minced; however, Aizawa drops the knife to instead, more or less, fondle the clove, rubbing the thing between the pads of his fingers for a few seconds.
"Personally, I prefer cooking with just the yolk of an egg. Might seem strange since there's less protein, but that's what the meat is for. The yolk's got everything else." As he explains, he cracks an egg into a bowl, which he then dips his fingers into, and - and just --
pulls out the yolk. The. Whole yolk.
Like he has the sun pinched perfectly in his fingertips. Gold, and round, and there's an atmospherical change in the classroom. Or, maybe it's gravitational, since it's no longer just you staring at his hands, but each and every student, too. In awe.
"How the fuck?"
"Language, Bakugou." Aizawa scolds, though it's more like an endearment. Can't be mad at the kid for voicing what they were all thinking. What you were thinking.
"It must be the oil secretions from the -- "
"Eugh, I never wanna hear that word from your mouth ever again, Deku!"
Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose with his clean fingers, closes his eyes, and probably counts back from ten, by the looks of it. You bite your cheek to keep from laughing. It's stupid, but in a harmless way.
Once all is composed again, both class and sensei, there's another egg cracked, and another yolk delicately scruffed, and you just. You cannot help it. You can't help thinking about those hands scruffing something else. Something meatier, like the back of a neck. Or pinching something just as fragile, just as wet, but a whole lot warmer --
Another cough, and you almost jump right out of your fucking skin. You don't even bother to look this time (can't bring yourself to look this time). You can feel eyes on you. Are you just that obvious? All you've been doing is standing there. And watching. Staring. Just a little. But not any more than everyone else. In that moment, you're not sure which reality is worse; the one where you're just that easy to read, or the one where Shinsou can read your mind.
For the rest of the lesson, until it's the students' turns to cook, you keep your eyes moving, and your thoughts as tame as possible. It gets easier as the class starts to chatter, discussing various techniques and ingredients. Mineta manages to make some innuendo filthier than your thoughts, a feat which has half the class groaning; Bakugou threatens to use him as the protein for his meal, because at least then he'd be good for something, but then, Tokoyami, of all people, counters that he'd just be empty calories. Aizawa has a hand pressed to his forehead as Todoroki laments the loss of the personal chefs he'd grown up with, all the while inquiring about the nutritional worth of cold soba. Some students actually try to complete the spontaneous coursework, while others just...rub garlic and crack eggs.
Surely, Aizawa had expected nothing more.
And nothing less.
Eventually, though, everyone has some kind of meal prepared, though even your quirk can't guarantee that all of them are...edible. Still, you give each plate your attention, the meals held up like offerings as you make your way through the desks. Some say their thanks, to which you nod and smile, but then you reach Shinsou's desk, where he's sitting with his arms crossed, and an eyebrow arched.
You feel like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.
The smile you give him is sheepish, and tinged pink, before you scurry on.
The rest is relatively uneventful.
The kids form their usual groups, snapping into cliques like puzzle pieces, before filing out of the classroom. It's almost too much, the all at once quiet that settles, disturbed only be the sounds of Aizawa cleaning up his desk. Not wanting to up and abruptly leave, you start to tidy up a few desks yourself, when --
"Thank you for your help today."
You're smiling before you even lift year head to look at him.
"You're welcome. Thanks for asking for my help. This was...different. But it was also fun. I had fun. Yeah."
Eloquent.
Aizawa hums, and continues to clean. That is probably the end of the conversation. That should be the end of the conversation. But, you're you, so it's not. Of course it's not.
"Hey, so. Uhm, Shinsou...he can't like, read minds, can he?"
Aizawa stops and snorts.
"No, and thank gods for that. The best he can do is feel someone's thoughts. The intention and emotion that makes them, but only while they're under his influence."
That's not nearly as big a relief as you want it to be.
"...Sorry. About him."
Confused and caught off guard by the apology, you blink at him. He doesn't meet your eye as he leans back against the wall, behind his clean-again desk.
"I think he was trying to...not so subtly insinuate something. It was extremely inappropriate behavior though, and I'd hope you hadn't noticed. I'll have a talk with him later."
You blink again. Yeah, sure, it was loud and clear to you that Shinsou had been insinuating something, because you were right there thinking about that something. Shinsou had been staring at you. But, if Aizawa also thought he was insinuating something...
"Not that I don't appreciate the apology, it's fine, but...what is it you think he was insinuating, exactly?"
He rubs at the back of his neck and shrugs, the apron still straining, struggling to contain all that is Aizawa Shouta. He'd probably be more comfortable if he took it off. If he took it all off. Or, maybe left the apron on.
"To put it plainly? He and Eri have it in their heads that they can play matchmaker."
Oh. Wow. Well. Okay.
"So...what? He thought you and I would be a good match?" You laugh because how can you not? It's ridiculous. Shinsou hardly even knew you before today, and still doesn't -- same for Aizawa. What kind of criteria does the kid have that almost a complete stranger can tik do many boxes off?
"Assuming so, based on all the looks he kept giving me."
"You? Why would he be looking at you, when I -- " you shut your mouth hard enough to clack your teeth together. Hoo, boy! That could've been bad!
But Aizawa finally looks at you, his expression guarded while he (what feels like) appraises you. He crosses his half-exposed arms over his chest, and you swear you can hear a seam rip, some threads popping.
"He might be under the impression that I have a...thing, for you."
A thing.
God, what are you? High-schoolers?
"Why would he think...? What kind of 'thing'?"
He shifts, just his weight, from his prosthetic leg to the organic one, and shoots a glance towards the door. Like he's ready to run. Or maybe to stop you from running. Or, maybe he just doesn't want anyone walking in.
"The kind of thing that keeps me up at night."
Aizawa's eyes are dark as he stares you down. Dark like chocolate, and you think of the satisfying sound of a bar snapping clean in half. Like your spine bent over a knee, a hand hot on your ass. His gaze tempers you like the treat, your mind maybe melting into a puddle on the floor. You want him to clean up the mess of you with his tongue, and only his tongue. Distantly, fleetingly, you think this can't be real. There's no way. You're just --
You're just you.
Someone with a strange quirk who works in a highschool cafeteria.
"You have no idea, do you."
It's not...posed as a question, but you shake your head, anyway. He makes a soft sound, something either amused or soothing. Maybe even a little mocking, a little mean. He moves, then. Deliberately slow, slower than he has to, even while missing a leg. He stalks around his desk until he's standing right in front of you, and then he holds your chin. Pinches it, between his thumb and the curl of the rest of his fingers underneath your jaw, so that he can feel it when you swallow. You can still smell the garlic on his hands. You could reach out. Touch, fist the fabric of that stupid fucking apron; cling to it as he throws you down onto his desk --
"That you're the tastiest looking thing behind that glass every day."
Ohhh, okay, haha --
Like a disturbed, deflated souffle, your knees go weak, and all the oxygen leaves your lungs in a giddy rush. Arms weak, too; mom's spaghetti and all that. But, he catches you, and his laugh is muffled where his mouth ends up squished into your temple.
It's mortifying.
Though he doesn't seem to mind.
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bluecrocss · 7 months ago
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And you know what's so crazy about the PJO fans that are up in arms over the changes in the show and have been having a fit over the castings?
ATLA is my favorite show in the entire world. It was my favorite as a kid and still my favorite now as an adult. I have re-watched that show start to finish, more than anything in my life and it's probably the one subject I am most knowledgeable about.
When they announced the live-action I had initially been ecstatic, but as I read more about the direction Netflix was taking it, learning the og creators left the project, and a few casting choices I didn't love, I realized it wasn't for me...
So you know what I did? I just didn't watch it.
I have not concerned myself with the live-action since. I don't stay up at night wishing the worst for the show, I don't hate watch it, I'm not in the comment sections of the cast members I didn't agree with harassing actors that simply auditioned for a part, I'm not on fan pages and fan posts for the show, lamenting all the things I don't like. I don't even interact with the live action fandom.
And it's not out of anger or spite, just pure indifference.
The existence of the live action, doesn't take away from the og show I watched. It hasn't burned it out of existence. I can still re-watch it and get exactly what I want out of it anytime I want.
The existence of the live-action fandom doesn't keep me up at night. Why would it bother me that there are people who enjoy the live action, when I don't? Why would I wish for the cancellation of a show that they enjoy? What difference would not making the rest of the seasons of the live action have towards my life?
Also for the cast, regardless of how I feel about the performances or which castings I liked, and which I didn't... all I can see is a whole host of young actors of color, getting a shot at roles that wouldn't have existed for them like 10 years ago. How can I look at that and be angry? over a fictional story?
Idk man... fandom spaces have been getting progressively more vile and toxic as of late (and this is coming from a fandom veteran). Whatever happened to the concept of "scroll if you don't like"?
It's like people feel this entitlement that every piece of media correlated to something that you liked as a kid, has to cater to YOU specifically (don't even get me started on the Star Wars fandom).
With the PJO show, it's already clear it won't be a 1:1 adaptation from the books, the casting won't follow the physical descriptions of the books... if that's too far for you, don't watch it. Why are you determined to torture yourself, and bring the people who actually did enjoy the adaptation and it's changes down with you?
As someone who read the books and loved them as a kid, and watched the adaptation and also enjoyed it for what it was (Not that I think the first season was flawless. And there are definitely somethings they need to fix going forwards), I just don't understand this behavior.
I've tried to empathize with the people that are still harassing the child actors, and making hour long videos on every detail that wasn't 100% book accurate, and launching think pieces on how Rick Riordan is now the devil incarnate apparently and I just think back to my relationship with the ATLA live action, and I wouldn't even have the energy or desire to do any of that shit. Like, what is driving y'all?
Also, I'm not gonna go into my rant about the new streaming format of 8 episodes, every 1-2 years and the effect that is having on the quality of the shows we are getting, cuz we'll be here all day, but something I have noticed is that shows aren't allowed to have bad seasons anymore.
Like, people will hype up a show before it comes out and if season 1 isn't perfect, they'll start praying for it's cancellation and claiming it's unsalvageable. That's not how showrunning works. Y'all realize if that was how they did things in the past, we wouldn't have shows like: the office, parks and rec, the simpsons, Star trek tng, etc.
Rather than review-bombing a show because the first season has flaws and pushing the networks/streaming platforms to cancel it, how about we encourage shows with good foundations so we don't miss out on the gems they can become in the future?
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infiniteglitterfall · 9 months ago
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How are you holding up? I ask because I'm only, like, addressing antisemitism that leaks to my dash with every term related to Palestine I can think of blacklisted. And i'm like. Barely crlinging to fragile sanity. I hope you are better equipped to handle the stresses of this ongoing disinformation campaign. You're doing good and important work, which you must know, but I want to re-emphasize it.
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3
i swear to god I thought there was a way to reply privately to asks, but apparently either there isn't or I don't have the patience to find it again.
I think that you're describing how most Jews with any connection to social media feel.
The good thing, in a way, is that researching and fact-checking is my major coping mechanism. Researching and rebutting and arguing with people until I understand everything well enough to be pithy about it. Creating ways for other people to defend themselves and to push back. Doing the research to know when I'm right helps me a lot.
I'm probably as well-equipped for this as I can imagine being (that's not really true, I should be talking to people more about it and using 12-step tools to deal with it and gosh some therapy would be nice), and like... there have still literally been times when I've been triggered for an entire week by this shit.
Most notably: the time when I saw a clip on my TikTok fyp from some podcast where some journalist fully got all dressed up and prepared to go on camera, to say that she could imagine there were a few individual rapes on Oct 7 -- although she wasn't aware of any -- but that certainly there was no evidence of systematic rape, and that saying there had been systematic rape was dehumanizing propaganda.
Like. If you can't even take one minute to google whether there had been individual rapes before you go on camera. And you haven't heard of them two months after the fact. Then you don't know enough to talk about this, period. That makes you the very opposite of an expert on the subject. And yet, that is who gets platformed. Ignorant randos who have no personal connection to any of this.
I literally knew there had been gang rapes by Hamas within the first week of the massacre. Because I cared enough to do a search for eyewitness testimony of the massacre, and I found an interview on PBS immediately.
Or, more accurately: it was because it slowly sank in that the attack had been MASSIVE. 22 kibbutzim leveled in one day, hands-on, without an airplane or mortar shell involved. All those people killed the way you would kill a horde of zombies: burned alive, or shot and then mutilated, or cut up and then shot. Like they needed to double-tap, to make sure no one was coming back around.
Two years of planning. Almost half a billion dollars in funding from Iran. Detailed guides even to the dentist's offices and kindergartens and grocery stores they were invading.
And it was very plain to, I think, nearly every Jew on earth that this was an attack aimed at Jews. Even before any recordings of attackers saying "I'm inside with the Jews" or "I killed 10 Jews with my own hands" even came out. Even though everyone else was denying it from the moment it happened.
And I felt compelled to learn more about what happened.
To KNOW.
To bear witness.
Even before it became apparent started to seem like the rest of the world would rather die themselves than bear witness to us. Even before it became apparent that Hamas had been telling people Israel would commit genocide in response before its fighters even left that country.
A reasonable person, imho, would ask why the fuck Hamas would commit such atrocities if if thought Israel would respond by killing every Palestinian in Gaza.
The Palestinians in Gaza are certainly fucking demanding to know why the hell Hamas thinks it gets to start a war on them, why its leaders get to hide out and evacuate their families while demanding civilians bleed and die for it, and why it doesn't goddamn turn itself in and give back the hostages.
But anyway.
But that's the thing. I looked it up because I was compelled to. I identified with the people attacked. I needed to know what had happened to us.
That's something outsiders would only do if they were allies.
We know, now, that we don't have allies on the left.
I've seen post after post after post, hundreds and hundreds of comments, on Jewish Reddit, asking if other progressives are okay. Asking, "how are you dealing with rejection by the left??" Asking if others are also shocked and confused and betrayed. Talking about how many friends they've lost who went masks-off antisemitic. So many people who've had to end long-term relationships when their partners went masks-off.
There's usually at least one politically conservative Jew in the comments laughing wryly and going, "wow, you really thought you were safe?"
Sometimes they ask why we're on the left if everyone there wants to kill us. Then we defiantly point out that it's not any different on the right. Or that we're not going to abandon our political beliefs for anyone.
Anyway.
I didn't even watch the podcast clip past that moment.
I ragequit. I went to the file of eyewitness testimonies I'd already put together, after weeks and weeks of denial. (And by "file," I mean "draft in gmail, because it saves automatically, and it's easy to find, and i don't know why it's better than google docs or dropbox paper, but it just is.")
I took the clearest, most authoritative ones and put them into their own document -- which i did make in dropbox lol.
I duetted the video, or whatever the fuck the one is in tiktok where you just take 5 seconds from one video and the rest is your own. It's not duetting. Idk.
It was the middle of Hanukkah. I recorded a video where I read each of however many testimonies I had, and lit a candle before each one. It was almost 10 minutes long, even though I made them as short as I could.
I didn't post it.
I was triggered all to hell for a whole week. I was staying up till 3 or 4 in the morning, researching horrifying rape testimonies, arguing with people on the internet, then sleeping too little and too late, then doing it again.
Watching myself lose a whole week to this. Knowing I couldn't do anything about it. Half-angrily, half-numbly thinking about how I couldn't afford to lose this much job search time, this much unfucking-my-life time. How I couldn't afford to have people I didn't even know fuck up my life even more.
And the bitch of it all is that the tone of the discourse makes me strongly suspect that if we said, "hey everyone needs to walk it back, you guys are deeply fucking up the mental health of pretty nearly the entire Jewish community," people would just respond by angrily telling us anti-Zionism is not antisemitism, mockingly saying that's what Zionists deserve.
Thanks for asking <3
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gethoce · 1 year ago
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Turns out I'm sick, therefore all I could really work on was something really simple, aka another reference sheet.
Random info
Ultra is, based on all eye-witness accounts, the first living entity of the universe which informs how it thinks of itself as above all else.
It despises the idea of someone else outperforming it and will make an active effort to right that wrong.
While its speed, strength and defensive capabilities are incredible, its attacks are of very low accuracy.
Its natural talent in the use of heart magic allows it to passively analyse the emotions of others accurately. It knows immediately if someone is lying to it.
While it can also use Dark, Dream and Soul magic, it isn't nearly as good with Soul Magic as it would like to be due to its natural weakness against this type of magic.
Despite being excellent in combat it avoids using violent conflict in war, choosing to use schemes and trickery first.
It avoids killing for the most part since it would prefer there were potentially as many worshippers of itself out there as possible.
It intends to conquer the entire universe in order to once again be number one.
Ultra murdered Twinkle Popopo using dark magic to make it look like the Dark Matterborn were responsible for her death.
It has had a total of 56 children throughout its lifespan.
It used to be negatively charged, back when there was nobody to socialise with, yet it doesn't believe that to be the case at all.
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takeariskao3 · 2 years ago
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Hey! I know you've been working a lot in tpfy and I don't want to confuse you or something xd. but I'm curious about why AG Harry is pushing Ginny away. I thought maybe he's scared she won't love him again or some other stupid noble reason. A couple weeks ago you did like an analysis of tpfy Ginny and Harry, and I would love if you could do something like that for AG Harry too. if you want and like to do it ofc. Thank you for everything<3
omg i would LOVE to do this. you honestly have no idea how much i love talking about hjp and the nightmare scenarios i throw him into. though, i'm not sure how ~spoilery~ i want to get.. so it might not be as in depth as my tpfy asks from a few weeks ago but yeah i'd love to talk about already gone h/g!!
under the cut for length and spoilers
so harry starts out in a real pickle. the love of his life, and his wife of three years, has woken up from a weeks long coma with no memory since he led her on a fruitless rescue mission where they all almost died. she doesn't remember any part of their romantic history, but she also doesn't remember anything from her 6th year and the war.
after ginny finds out about fred, and goes unconscious again, it is vaguely hinted that ginny's emotions have a direct effect on her lucidity. therefore in the spirit of trying to keep her conscious until the healers can find out what exactly went wrong when they removed the parasite, harry and the weasleys decide to... uhh... hide her entire life from her just in case something triggers another collapse.
so much happens behind the scenes that ginny has absolutely no clue about and that was very intentional and on purpose. mostly because i love it when readers find out things at the same time she does, but also because i honestly don't think i could accurately portray harry's mental state. like genuinely. but i'm getting off track.
ok, so why is harry pushing ginny away? excellent question i'm so glad you asked. harry is afraid. and he isn't going to do anything (ANYTHING) to jeopardize her health/mental well-being. at this point behind the scenes molly, george, and hermione are like "seriously harry, tell your wife she's married to you." to which he replies "absolutely not." anyways, they decide to wait him out and not push it because we all know how harry gets. however, after ginny passes out at the memorial lunch, his fears all the sudden are MASSIVELY JUSTIFIED so he says fuckk all this, i'm out. but in a 'i am terrified my wife is going to faint and never wake up' kind of way.
so fast forward to after the night at the hog's head. ginny is super pissed, right? but also, harry was like super right. finding out she was married sorta did mess her up a bit.
but us, as readers, we are kinda like.. who cares yeah? she knows! she finally knows! except harry is still pretty stand-off-ish.... wonder what that's about (insert eye emoji here)
there's more to it obviously, i'm just being funny... but i can give you a two hints on what to be on the lookout for:
the flashbacks.. what happens when you take away the context of someone's love story.. can they still love in the same ways? where does that leave harry? how can he in good conscious give ginny back the worst year of her life? would he ever be that selfish?
the parasite.. where did it come from? how did ginny get it?? why?? what is going on in the wizarding world at the moment that would have anything to do with them???
also just a reminder that we have two very big things coming up... a potential experimental treatment and an anniversary. both of which were very VERY fun chapters to outline and draft. and by fun i mean they made me cry.
thanks so much for the question <333 i adore talking about my fics
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normal-thoughts-official · 2 years ago
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Do find it interesting how Copley's entire character is based on denial. Especially when it comes to his involvement in the key plot points.
He's in denial about his wife. Even if he admits that she is dead, he refuses to move on. It's been two years, and he still wears the wedding band. Just in that very short scene of him in his office we see two pictures of her (one of their wedding on the shelf and one of her right in between his PC monitors, so she's always in his peripheral vision at least). Someone who wanted to move on would have kept the pictures somewhere to look at when they felt the need, not exactly where they were before, as a constant reminder of her passing. And they definitely wouldn't keep wearing the wedding band.
What I'm trying to say is that even though Copley, obviously, knows rationally that his wife is dead, subconsciously he is still in denial because he refuses to move on. And because he refuses to move on, he keeps trying to find a way to do something about it. He obsessively follows the immortals and Merrick (who is specifically looking into making cures for the type of disease that killed Copley's wife) looking for a way to help cure her illness, because it is the closest he can get to curing his wife. To making up for not being able to save her. To rewriting what happened to his family. (And if he ever got that, he'd have to face the fact that he can't bring his wife back and actually process his grief instead of trying to Do Something To Stop ALS as a means of putting off facing her death).
The entire plot wouldn't have happened if Copley hadn't been in denial about the fact that there is nothing left for him to do about his wife. If he hadn't refused to process his grief by choosing to obsess over finding a cure to ALS instead, he wouldn't have found out about the Guard's immortality, and wouldn't have sold them out to Merrick.
But it doesn't stop there. Even his small decisions are driven by denial. I always laugh at the "there was an unanticipated amount of carnage" because Copley. James. Babygirl. They are immortal mercenaries who have fought in more wars than most people learn of in school. We know that they're trying to do good and don't like killing, but we also know they're willing to. And with a secret this big at risk of being revealed, there is no way they'd have left anyone get out of that room alive.
Which someone as smart as Copley, who's ex-CIA, for crying out loud, should have predicted. The only way Copley could have possibly believed that his little trap wouldn't end in a bloodbath is if he was neck-deep in denial of the fact that his plan would kill innocents. Because again, Copley desperately needs to believe that he's doing good, that he's working for the sake of humanity, that he will save his wife people
And sure, he could have been lying about not anticipating it, but judging by: the fact that he doesn't need to because Merrick doesn't give a fuck; the fact that the carnage actually got in the way of his plans, because he couldn't get DNA samples; and his horrified look as he watched the footage, I really don't think that he was. I think he genuinely, truly did not expect that it would be (so) bloody. Or, more accurately, didn't want to believe it would, or maybe didn't even want to think about what the consequences of his trap would be beyond "I get the samples, ASL is cured". He was laser focused on his goal, and he didn't see anything else. If Copley hadn't been in denial about this, his trap would probably have been set up differently, at the very least.
And then, of course, the entire second half is a parade of Copley being in denial about the obvious, completely unmistakable fact that Merrick is a piece of shit who could not care less about helping people. Merrick isn't even trying to pretend otherwise. Yet Copley is surprised by his complete lack of ethics. The way he screams "Mr Merrick!" when Merrick starts stabbing Joe, like anyone in the world didn't see that coming; his "this is about science, not profits, or sadism" like he truly believed that's what it was for them; warning him that "this would be murder" like Merrick cared; the genuinely shocked "for... ever?"; the "no, this is not what we agreed" when this is exactly what they agreed on. The agreement was that he would bring Merrick the immortals and he would experiment on them to make medicine. He had to have known forced experimentation and potential murder was what was going to happen, especially because Merrick took 0 efforts to not make that obvious. But somehow Copley had convinced himself that they would get DNA samples and then leave them alone, which is an insane assumption to make after everything Merrick's done and said.
But Merrick's company was working on a cure for degenerative diseases. They could, very soon, cure ALS. So Copley needed it to be him, needed him to be interested in doing this ethically, needed to believe that, once again, his brilliant plan wasn't actually just hurting more innocents in a desperate quest to save a dead woman.
Because Copley does believe in doing good. We know that because no one who doesn't actually, deeply care about humanity would go looking into what happened to all the people that the Guard saved. Just the fact that he researched that, tried to find out what happened to the victims, shows that he is a very compassionate person with a very humanized perspective on war and conflict. He went looking into generations of descendants of people saved by the Guard. I don't think most people would even bother to think of looking at what happened to them beyond being a footnote in the Guard's history, especially not anyone as obsessed with them as Copley was. But Copley did. He looked into every single person, and what happened to them.
Taking that into account, as well as the fact that Copley was genuinely fighting Merrick on his decisions, I think that Copley - unlike Merrick, Keane, and Kozak - does care about doing the whole thing ethically. The thing, of course, is that without their consent that is impossible, which Copley is too smart and compassionate not to know. But letting them go would mean facing that there won't be a miracle cure for his wife, and he cannot handle admitting that. So, he adds "trying to convince himself this could be in any way ethical and he can convince Merrick to do it that way" to the list of completely out of touch beliefs he's been holding because of denial.
The result is that even though he obviously knew that Merrick was a fucking piece of shit (just the fact that he added "or sadism" proves that), he didn't actually face that as a fact until the moment Nile confronted him and he said "they are in the lab, being tested" and then closed his eyes and went, "tortured". Again, denial made an appearance, but this time he made the conscious decision to take a deep breath and stop lying to himself. This is the first time he acknowledges what's actually going on there, and by proxy, his part in it. And all it took was being quite literally hit over the head with it, as well as possibly killing the single person who's made the most good in the history of humanity. But I digress.
It is also in that same confrontation with Nile that he finally admits the obvious - that he was trying to save someone who was gone. He says he wants to help humanity, but in the end he's only being truly honest about his motives when he says "she couldn't talk, my wife. In the end." This is also the first and only time we see him actually mourning his wife, because it is the first time he is in any way processing that her death was final. Up until then, he only talked about her detachedly, and kept all these mementos of her like she still lived in the house.
And that's why his confrontation with Nile is also the shift of his loyalties. Because it is the point in which he breaks his cycle of denial and admits that his wife is gone, he can't save her, and that in trying to do so he's hurt innocents and handed them over to a greedy asshole. And once he finally, finally faces that, he realizes he has to do something about it. Which is why he helps Nile and wants to storm the place with her, insists on it, admits that pharma CEO's are full of shit ("what kind of CEO walks around with his own personal army?" "these days? Most of them"), and agrees to help erase the Guard's footprints. And even though Copley was (or wanted to believe he was) good-intentioned, he wasn't able to do good until he stopped lying to himself.
So Copley's denial is what shaped the way the whole movie goes - if he weren't in denial he wouldn't have found out about the Guard's immortality, wouldn't have set them up the way he did, wouldn't have sold them out to Merrick specifically, and wouldn't have allowed Merrick to continue for as long as he did. And once he got over the denial, that was also a point that helped shape the resolution of the plot (I'm sure Nile would have found everyone anyway, but Copley's help did speed up the process). And I find it interesting how this one thread of how he chose to deal with his grief ended up not only defining his character, but the course of events in the movie - despite the fact that he's not a main character.
Which actually also ties off in a really interesting perspective where most of the things that happen over the course of the movie are dictated by the characters' refusal to try to get better. The whole movie would be heading towards a massive tragedy, Greek-style, if there weren't a character who is quite literally defined by her refusal to go with the tide - Nile. Unlike Andy, Booker, and Copley, who let their grief and self destruction take over their life, and Joe and Nicky (+Booker again), who let Andy make all the relevant family decisions, Nile refuses to let anyone or anything decide her fate for her. She doesn't defer to Andy just because Andy is the oldest and very clearly capable; she fights her at nearly every turn, even when it's impossible for her to win, because she is not willing to compromise her beliefs or let anyone dictate what she's going to do. She will do it if she believes in it, and only then. And Nile also isn't willing to listen to Copley's bullshit, which forces him to face what he's been trying to hide from himself.
So, you know - maybe this is the why Nile. Because she's young and strongheaded, and so she holds the hope and the possibility of doing things differently. Of choosing your potential future. And that's why she makes Andy realize that she's been doing a shit job of living, but she can do different.
Although this might be a different analysis altogether. My point with this one was - Copley's tendency towards denial was one of the most powerful forces shaping the course of events in the movie. And Nile's unwavering sense of morality and freedom of choice was the opposing force.
PS so there are no doubts about it: I'm not saying that what Copley did was justified or that you have to like him. This is a character analysis and nothing more, or less.
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josefavomjaaga · 1 year ago
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Hi!!!!! flower here!!!!! As of late I've been getting increasingly invested in the human golden retriever that was Édouard Mortier and especially in his relationship with Soult. I know the way I portray relationships between marshals through my drawings and designs isn't always the most historically accurate (just look at my BessiMu obsession :sob:), but I am genuinely curious to know what their relationship was like? Do you happen to know anything about it? They seemed to be quite a mismatched pair, Mortier seems to me like quite a happy person who had an easy time befriending others and therefore had a lot of friends who loved and cared for him, while Soult is... Soult, he did have friends who loved and cared for him but he is as friendly as a cold slab of ice :sob: it makes me wonder how they became friends and how their friendship held itself together for seemingly so long. Thank you for any info you can provide on this, love your marshal posts!!! c:
Hi there, petal! Great to hear from you! 💖
And thank you for the question! Though I fear lately I'm getting mostly Asks beyond my competence 😥. I know very little about Mortier, frankly, and have yet to read a biography of his.
But, judging from the little I do know, your golden retriever comparison seems pretty accurate 😁. So far, I have yet to find somebody who did not like Mortier. And yes, even Soult - clearly not somebody to befriend easily - seems to have genuinely cared for him.
From Soult's "Mémoires - Espagne et Portugal", about Mortier leaving Spain in April 1813 (in order to join Napoleon on the Russian campaign - talk about "out of the frying pan and into the fire"):
I was very sorry to see Marshal Mortier go. I made every effort to hold him back. I was with him on the terms of a friendship that dated back a long way. I counted entirely on him. The slight clouds that had accidentally risen between us had long since cleared.
As to the long-standing friendship, it must date back at least as far as Soult's campaign in Switzerland, as I've come across a letter from that time. And as to the "slight clouds" 😁: Mortier was apparently just as eager as any other marshal to obey to Soult's more-or-less superior command. The editors quote excerpts from a long letter Soult wrote to Mortier in 1810, replying to complaints the latter had made, and explaining and justifying pretty much every decision and every order he had dared to give to Mortier. I'm not much acquainted with military matters but I dare assume that this is not the usual way a chain of command works in thy army 😁. It may be evidence that Mortier's opinion did indeed matter a lot to Soult.
Of course, between the rather tense letter of 1810 (at a time when the "roi Nicolas" affair was in everybody's mind) and Soult's sorrowful farewell to Mortier in 1813, a lot had happened. Among other things, the siege of Badajoz, where the two of them had worked very well together and where, according to the memoirs of Auguste Petiet, ...
[...] a cannonball fell between the two marshals, who had jointly decided on the final arrangements. This projectile covered them with earth in full view of our troops, who redoubled their ardour […]
[...] most likely after having had a good laugh at their superior commanders being turned into pillars of mud. In any case, I assume things like almost being hit by the same cannonball would strengthen their connection.
As to the end of the empire, Mortier was a bit wiser than Soult during the Hundred Days; he rallied to Napoleon but took a convenient sick leave for the actual fighting and thus was largely unmolested during the Second Restauration. During the July Monarchy he briefly took over the ministry of War and the presidency of the Council from Soult, but that was clearly not his strong point, and he was probably very relieved to return it.
I also remember that Mortier was mentioned in Davout's correspondence at the beginning of the Empire, when everybody suddenly found himself a marshal and had court duties: Davout asked Soult about the colours the livrées of the servants were supposed to have, and Soult, who apparently did not know either, then asked Bessières and Mortier.
This is probably not really what you wanted to hear but it's the best I can do as of now. I'm still learning, and I wish I would do so faster. As to Soult being
as friendly as a cold slab of ice
I'm not sure if I would fully agree. He was taciturn, rather direct and was in general seen as rude - but he also lived in a society with very refined manners and an elaborate system of courtesies that he may never really have felt comfortable with. While he clearly was not good at showing emotions, I'm not sure he really was "cold". At least when British historian Napier first met him, his first impression was rather that of somebody who hid behind his grim face "an excellent heart".
On a sidenote: As usual, while looking for quotes and more information in order to answer you a little better, I found lots of other stuff. (Did you guys know that Oudinot's oldest son, who accompanied Masséna during the third campaign into Portugal, has left memoirs? Or that Wellingtom claimed to have met Masséna through Soult?) Thank you for that, too! 💖
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the-priestess-of-dawn · 9 months ago
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So hey the Hero-King Marth that Ylisseans claim is from Altea which is in modern Northern Plegia (right under the Feroxi border wall). Given this, can you imagine the political strife and potential religious conflicts happening over this? Because Marth is 100% the ancestor of the Ylissean Royal Family, but historical Altea is Plegian ground. How hard would the Hierophant play with this if allowed?
I am delighted to be asked this because I think about this little detail all the time. Because Chrom and the Shepherds do go to the location corresponding to historical Altea. It's where Chrom defeats Gangrel and ends the war between Ylisse and Plegia. We know Chrom isn't exactly in high spirits ("We've won... Somehow I don't feel like celebrating.") and though the game itself never brings it up, I can't help but wonder how much the location itself contributes to everything weighing on him.
This location is also listed as "Border Wastes." It's a wasteland, and Marth's Altea definitely was not. Again, the game itself doesn't say a word about it, but... Is it not easy to imagine how it might have got that way? Somehow I doubt the exalted line, proudly descended from the Hero King, WANTED to give Altea to Plegia or was ever satisfied with Plegia ruling it. Awakening thematically grapples with cycles of violence, and though this geographical detail is so minor and is never directly addressed in the text, the environmental storytelling seems to me to speak volumes. I think Plegia and Ylisse have been mad about this for as long as they've both existed.
And the thing is, I can easily imagine Plegians taking pride in holding this land, too? Marth is not just special to the Halidom of Ylisse. He is a hero to the entire continent. He saved EVERYONE. "Marth was Plegian" is not exactly accurate, because Plegia would not exist until a thousand years after him, but I bet there are plenty of Plegians running around whose features resemble Marth's as much as Chrom and Lissa and Emmeryn's do.
(Remember, Ferox suspects Chrom of being an imposter when he first arrives at their border, and Cynthia's paralogue involves a guy successfully impersonating Chrom. I don't think you can tell just by looking at him that he's not Just Some Guy, and specifically, you can't tell that he's not Just Some Plegian Guy, either.)
It's interesting to think about what if anything Grima would do with this... Grima was after Marth's time, but that doesn't mean they can't put words and ideals in his mouth just as well as any other political figure.
Moving more deeply into pure headcanon territory... As you may be aware, I think Grima ate the earth dragons that Marth sealed at the Dragon's Table, and honestly if they did, I can imagine them twisting that act to be like.... Obviously what Marth Would Have Wanted, because you see, he didn't have the power to do anything more at the time, but OF COURSE he wouldn't have wanted the beloved people of his precious continent to have to fight the earth dragons again. The Fire Emblem can't do enough. Let Grima eat the dragons for you. (Meanwhile, you've got the First Exalt, actual descendant of Marth, arguing that um, HE is right there, totally ready willing and able to seal those dragons right back up, guys come on we KNOW this will work. Yes I do like to think of this as a reverse "let Chrom deal the final blow?" situation. One in which Grima refused to back down.)
So in that regard, I don't know, I feel like "Grima is the Hero King's true successor (in spirit)" is something that at least some people could actually believe. That would be fun to work with. It's a little hard to see how to get from there to "and now Grima destroys the world because humans are bad" but... given how Plegians value loyalty, it might honestly be enough for some people simply to say "we side with Grima no matter what because we always have before and we aren't filthy traitors."
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softevnstan · 2 years ago
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³.⍭ 𝐈𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 - PART II.
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pairing. bucky barnes x gender netural!reader
summary. you couldn't believe the name that graced the file on your desk for your new patient. james 'bucky' barnes. you'd heard of him - even studied some of his history during college for psychology classes. never would you have imagined he'd be sent to your office, looking for help.
a.n. you guys responded really well for part one so i wanted to work on part two. no beta, we die like men. i have no fully formed plan with this so i apologize if i got anyone's hopes up. see part one here (make sure you read that first, otherwise, parts of this won't make sense). i also hate using 'y/n', but i don't know how not to, so i heavily recommend the 'InteractiveFics' chrome extension - it'll automatically correct 'Y/N' to the name of your choosing (and can replace other terms)
w.c. 3.6k
tags. depression mention, suicide mention, ptsd mention, therapy, recovering!bucky barnes, patient x therapist (as a whole for the series), not 100% accurate therapy - based on my own perspective and experiences.
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‘What am I doing here?’ Bucky's mind played like a broken record, brain scouring for any reason to excuse himself from this appointment altogether.
Was it too late to slip out of the room? Surely not - the secretary was one of the four people (including himself) that sat in the same gray room, and she didn't seem to be paying too much mind hunched over her desk in a seek-and-find book.
The waiting room was dark - lacking any real windows in the area given it was part of a larger building that housed the offices. Bucky had taken the stairs up to the second floor after stepping into the building and searched the stretched hall for your office number and silver nameplate on the walls. Upon finally finding it, Bucky couldn't help but see it as a blessing and a curse. No more wandering aimlessly with the inkling of tension that'd begun to grow with the anxiety of someone approaching him to potentially redirect him. But it also meant he was now another excuse short for skipping this referral appointment entirely.
When stepping in, the atmosphere wasn't near as comforting as he'd been hoping. The space was dark and dimly lit by the glow of orange lamps; chairs sat neatly along the wall with a coffee table, scattered with magazines that had been flipped through countlessly since they'd been there. There was a rounded desk to the left of entering the room where an older woman sat, glasses sitting on the end of her nose and the signs of aging prevalent in her graying hair. Along the back wall, there are several doors; Individual offices, Bucky's brain supplied.
There were shelves of books and an overwhelming amount of fake plants in the room. The closest window that Bucky could scour out immediately was a narrow, rectangular one. Lone by itself given the layout of the office building not allowing for it. Hardly any natural light seeped into the room. If the actual offices with the therapists were as gloomy as this, Bucky would have better luck abandoning all hope right then and excusing himself. Save him another uncomfortable experience in the mental health field.
Working with Raynor wasn't exactly what Bucky needed as a first experience in therapy. Before the 70 years that he'd spent under HYDRA's thumb, there were no resources like this at home. Mental Health hardly existed as a concept - no awareness of the rippling effects of war or aid for the soldiers that would return traumatized and self-loathing. Hell, men beat their wives back then like property. That was even without the PSTD and fragile masculinity slammed on top.
Not his father, thank a god that Bucky isn't sure he even believes in anymore.
Christina was rough around the edges. A former officer in the military, one would think she may be perfect for the job in regard to Bucky's emotional baggage and the weight he carries. She wasn't. That was something Bucky only began to learn months later with Sam's help; That while Dr. Raynor was not a bad woman, she was not what Bucky had needed to begin opening up to people. The clipped energy that filled a room when sharing a space with Christina made it near impossible to relax fully; When Bucky was being a little difficult on his bad days (yes, he can admit he's difficult), instead of approaching him with patience, Raynor would combat his comments with her own condescending ones. It felt more like a weekly brawl where he had something to prove rather than a safe space to begin the healing process.
It was like ripping open a healing wound, wondering why it wouldn't improve, and being confused when it worsens under brutal treatment.
Dr. Raynor was not what Bucky needed, simply put.
But the one that woman did right with all certainty was to at least aid in redirecting Bucky to someone that can help him produce better results.
That's what landed him there. In the waiting room of your office with an appointment at 3:15 p.m.
Your praise was sung of being someone who was more approachable and positive, albeit not naively so. When Bucky was peering at reviews and your background check - comforting his own paranoia - he'd seen nothing but kind things said. How patient you were. How compassionate; How you make your patients feel heard and understood. How you provide the tools to create a proper support system and show people how to live again. Bucky tries not to get his hopes up for things, but he was certainly beginning to spark hope when he was able to look more into your reviews. It made him want to try again rather than give up.
But sitting in that dim-lit office, he's not sure how confident he is in that statement anymore. Bucky's left leg bounces in an anxious fidget. His shoulders are tight, arms folded over his chest in a closed-off stance while he sits back in one of the empty chairs of the waiting room. To anyone else, Bucky probably looks angry at the world - it's just him hiding his nerves. Never an intentional expression worn, it's simply become a default to wrinkle his forehead and wear a tired face.
Bucky could still leave. The heavy door that he'd pushed open to get in taunts him from where he sits.
And it's right as he's weighing out the consequences of bailing on this idea altogether that the sound of a door opening grabs his attention. Head turning in the direction of the noise, tired eyes squinting slightly for a brief moment when light pours into the room. A woman in roughly her thirties steps out of the first door lining the back wall, followed by you. Bucky is only certain of that fact because he recognizes your face from the LinkedIn profile you have.
"Thank you again for coming in, Greta, I'm looking forward to hearing about your daughter's Bat Mitzvah; tell her happy birthday for me." you tell the woman that's begun her leave.
"Of course, I hope your next session goes well," beams a woman, assumedly 'Greta'.
Bucky sucks his bottom lip in, worrying the skin between his teeth before sighing out through his nose. Attempting to take a steadying breath to appease his nerves when--
"Mr. Barnes?" your voice prompts.
Running away isn't a choice anymore. Not realistically.
So Bucky drops his arms and feels the taut muscles in his shoulders before trying to force them to settle. Rolling broad muscle under his leather coat before pressing off the armrests of the wooden chair with gloved hands to get up. His eyes remain averted from your face, but he crosses the room to you nevertheless.
"It's nice to meet you, James, if you'd please step in here with me," you hold the door open for Bucky; Allowing him to step into the relatively small space.
But it's not suffocating, he notices.
It's actually a stark contrast to the heavy waiting room he'd just been sitting in for the past 10 minutes or so. The light of day pours in from the tall, wide window on the back wall of the room. In the brief space where the window doesn't occupy the wall, there's a bookcase sat with countless psychology books. A soft-looking loveseat is pressed against the wall to Bucky's right, and across from that is a matching single chair with an end table. On the table sits a lamp, a box of tissues, and what appears to be a selection of colorful fidget toys. The walls are hogged by large framed photos; some of paintings, some of hyper-realistic photos or art. The floor is a deep gray-brown carpet, the walls painted a soft eggshell. Plants sit on the shelf in front of the window, drinking in the sun; He spots a Wandering Jew, two cactuses (both different breeds), and a succulent perched comfortably.
"Have a seat," your voice interrupts the way Bucky studies the room, and promptly he moves to the loveseat. Lowering himself into it, it's significantly more comfortable than the chair he was just sitting in. Still, Bucky sits stiffly. Uncomfortable; refraining from letting his back touch the couch and posture coming across as closed up without him even realizing it.
Like a mantra, belittling thoughts play on a broken loop through his head.
This isn't going to work. It's going to end badly. I'm going to be seen as a monster all the same. I'm a bad person, I don't deserve this. Other people deserve it more. I'm wasting everyone's time.
The thoughts spiral heavier and heavier for Bucky, even as you close the door; successfully sectioning him and you off from the rest of the world. His jaw sets as you move to sit across from him.
Bucky silently wishes the moment would end before it's even begun.
He wants to go back to his apartment, even if it makes him just as miserable.
“So, Mr. Barnes, from what I’m understanding, you'd like to make me your primary therapist and discontinue working with Doctor Raynor?”
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Bucky wants to heal. You see it in him. The first step is admitting you have an issue; that there is something wrong. Not that Bucky is wrong, but his headspace surely is a defunct mess; The task ahead of you in untangling said mess is daunting, but Bucky is worthy of it. He deserves it. Even if he doesn't realize that yet.
He deserves to have someone who's willing to help him understand and put the pieces back together. Not simply throw their hands up the first time that Bucky struggles and leave him to fend for himself - this man was done far too much fending by himself.
It's clear by the silence followed by the words, 'That’s all I’ll ever ask of you', that Bucky isn't sure what to say. Rather than allowing the quiet to eat at him, you continue the conversation. Save him from the anxiety he might be feeling in being unable to muster a reply.
"So, Bucky - Can I call you 'Bucky'?" You ask, sure to keep a warm and approachable composure. Bucky's comfort is your priority; If he feels unwelcomed, he won't come back.
A stiff nod comes from the man across you. He still struggles to meet your gaze; Eventually, you'll both work on that, but for now, you don't mind. Let him take things at his own pace.
"So, Bucky," you reiterate, leaning back in your armchair and crossing your legs at the ankle. Your shoulders ease and you relax into your seat. "How about we start by getting to know you a little bit; Where you'd like to work first and what some of your immediate issues are, in your opinion."
Bucky's teeth clench - you can tell because his jaw flexes and it pulls on your heartstrings for a moment. His shoulders look so tight, his body so stiff. Chiseled features are hard, and his face doesn't seem nearly as full as you'd seen in museums and textbooks while growing up and learning American History. Dare you even say he almost looks sunken in, with dark rings around his eyes and sadness in gray hues.
You wonder how he sleeps at night - if he even does. If he eats the way he should. It's heartbreaking to see a man carved into such a husk.
"Raynor was working with me to make amends," Bucky starts, and surely that doesn't mean what you think it does-- "To make things right for what I did as the Winter Soldier, as a condition of my pardon."
"There's nothing to make right, Bucky." You answer almost immediately; your blood feeling hot for half a moment. You saw history unfold right before you, living in New York. Hearing the chaos of HYDRA overtaking SHIELD in 2014, that Boy Wonder 'Bucky Barnes' was still alive. Many things were kept from the public, as much as they could be, but one thing was for certain. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together could see that Bucky was another victim of HYDRA's. Not the catalyst for the carnage. An unwilling piece of the puzzle.
You have to stop yourself from becoming too expressive, though. Despite the quickness of your words, you maintain an evenness to them. "Now, I won't pretend to know what's happened with it all; That's something for us to talk about with time. But I can promise you right now, Bucky, that I am not Dr. Raynor. And while we can revise the conditions of your pardon, you won't be trying to fix mistakes you didn't make. We're here to help you."
Another break of silence, and Bucky has begun to fidget with his hands. Kneading them together in his lap; your own gaze flickering briefly to watch the leather rub on leather.
"I... I don't know what to say," Bucky speaks, his voice soft and timid. Unmatching the hardness of his face.
A small crease forms between his brows, eyes downcast but briefly lifting to peer at you.
"You don't have to know what to say right now," you gently tell him. "I know you may not agree with my perspective on things right now, but please hear me when I tell you that I'm not here to judge you. You're a survivor, Bucky."
A soft huff comes from him - lip curling into a crooked grin that's humorless. Bucky shakes his head right after, and the expression falls. You watch curiously.
"I'm sorry, it's... Everyone seems to either look at me like the pariah or like a victim." Bucky explains, and for a moment, your lips form a soft smile. You lean forward, shifting your position once more to lean in a little closer to Bucky's space without outright intruding on it.
"You're a survivor," you reiterate. Making sure he hears it. "And there is no shame in being a survivor - I'm a survivor and don't consider it derogatory, it's exactly what I am."
Bucky's brow knits up slightly and his attention is on you fully. Arguably the longest so far since he's been in this room with you. He looks as though he's searching for something and the answer is somehow embedded in you, and deep down, you want to give him whatever it is he's searching for.
You're a survivor, too. It's what made you good at your job. Being able to empathize to a degree with the individuals that come to you; To be able to share your own experiences and show the person sitting in front of you that they are not alone. People like to feel heard and understood. And sometimes the best way to for that is to sit with someone who's been through something similar.
Though you certainly didn't have experience as a prisoner of war who was genetically engineered...
His pink lips part as though he wants to speak, but whatever words were that die on Bucky's tongue when his mouth clamps shut and he finally averts his attention. You follow his gaze briefly to find him looking out the window parallel to him on his right. The light peeked in through the sheer curtains and lit the side of his face partially. You wonder if the sunlight makes him warm at all.
"Do you want me to draw the curtains for you, Bucky?" You offer, wondering if perhaps it's distracting to him.
Bucky shakes his head. "I'm not used to this." "Can you explain what 'this' is?" You ask, gently prompting him in hopes he keeps talking. "I, uhm..." His voice trails - clearly searching for the words. "You're... Calm. I don't entirely know how to explain it. We haven't been talking that long but I was, uh, intimidated to meet you. My precious therapy experiences haven't been the best..." It's the most he's said in a single sitting, you're impressed.
"And that's alright - sometimes not every therapist works out. Many people struggle to understand that therapy is not a 'one size fits all' matter. Sometimes we have to feel out situations and feel out people. If you decide at any point you're no longer comfortable speaking with me, I understand and will be more than happy to help you find another therapist that can specialize in your concerns." Always deliberate as to not call Bucky's situation 'problems' or 'what's wrong'. The last thing you'd want is for him to feel as though he is the root problem in his life. He's not.
"Thank you," the man murmurs softly, and you can tell it's another moment he's unsure what to say. Even the words feel as though it took quite a deal of effort to muster from Bucky. That's okay - sometimes people need to warm up. You're not surprised in the least that Bucky isn't an open book, you wouldn't be if you went through even half of what he did.
"...I'll tell you what," You begin, Bucky's attention drawing right back to you rather than the world outside the glass. "How about we start small, you and I, okay? We don't have to touch anything heavy yet, we can start simple."
"Simple?" Bucky echoes.
"Mhm," a confident nod from you, "I hope I don't sound rude at all, but I can tell you're someone who's carrying a whole lot more than they let on."
That earns a skeptical look from Bucky. You wonder in a brief moment where you potentially lost him when he answers that question for you:
"I'm sure you can." The response comes out almost irritated. No elaboration.
For a moment your mind scrambles, wondering, before it clicks. Still, you encourage Bucky to use his words. "What do you mean?"
A long sigh comes through his nose. "Oh, c'mon," he tries, but you simply look expectantly. Bucky needs to communicate, if they have no form of communication, they have nothing. "Y'know, everyone seems to know about me. Everything with HYDRA..." His expression is progressively hardening; He's lumping you with everyone else. You see it. Even if Bucky doesn't realize what he's doing, he's trying to build that wall again. Brick himself out and separate himself.
"No," You reply, "I only know what you want to share with me, Bucky. I didn't follow your story as it was happening - though I'd be lying if I said I was entirely clueless. Whatever I knew prior to meeting you today, though, doesn't matter. I want to know you. Not what everyone else's perception of you, is. Consider us strangers."
Then, as if to prove your point, you shift forward even more in your seat. Uncrossing your legs and sitting them flat on the floor as you offer your right hand out.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bucky, I'm Dr. Y/N." Maybe the notion seems silly - and it is, honestly. You've both been talking this long.
Bucky is a little taken aback by the gesture; Blinking at you cluelessly for a moment before he huffs again. This time, his half-hearted grin doesn't look so bitter when he offers his right hand out tentatively. A ginger shake, as though he's scared he's going to break you, and the leather of his glove is warm against your palm.
While he doesn't verbally reciprocate the gesture, his expression speaks for him. A conversation without words.
It's clear that it's a bit more comforting to Bucky. For a brief moment he seemed as though he was ready to leave without coming back, but with quick thinking, you're relieved to have reeled him in once more.
"Anything about you outside of this room means nothing to me," you promise. "It's up to you how much you share. No one else."
Bucky's smile pulls just a tad bit wider, and you consider it a victory.
"We'll start simple," You repeat, pulling your hand from his to pick up the notepad on the table beside you. Flipping to a clean page and clicking your pen - you don't miss the way Bucky looks at you almost worriedly. As if you've picked up a weapon when in reality it's a pen and paper.
"I'd like you to find a nice journal that you like. One that you won't be afraid to write in, and one that you'll feel comfortable using. Next week when we see each other, I'd like you to bring it with you." You effortlessly speak while your pen scrawls away on the small lines sheet in front of you - your handwriting reads out on the paper, 'BRING A NOTEBOOK THAT YOU'RE COMFORTABLE WITH USING :)'
You tear the paper from the metal rings that bind it and pass it over to Bucky. He takes it wordlessly, looking at the piece of paper in his hands.
"That's it...?" Bucky ponders aloud. "That's it." Another gentle smile you wear. "Journaling is an extremely useful tool for going through our feelings and helping us take a step back and breathe. It can help us avoid dramatizing situations unintentionally, and it can help us develop a sense of mindfulness and gratitude. You don't need to write anything in it just yet, but if you'd like to decorate it, I won't stop you. Whatever makes you feel comfortable to begin writing in it."
"...Dr. Raynor didn't have me keep a journal," the soldier murmurs. "I'm not Dr. Raynor." you answer simply.
Your first session with Bucky seems to go well on all accounts. Sure there were a few brief tense moments, but you like to hope he'll return. At the end of the day, that's Bucky's decision. If he chooses to continue with you as his therapist, though, you want to help him in any way he can.
He doesn't know it yet, but you're determined. By the end of your time together, you want to have helped Bucky obtain a new perspective and help him live. Not simply survive.
After he leaves your office, you make sure to fill your schedule in for the same time next week.
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idiotwhotalkstoomuch · 1 year ago
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Makoto's distorted persona: Jeanne d'Arc
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Yes I know I am very original. I had a much more detailed write up about Shadow Makoto about 2 months ago but school really made me forget it all 👹
Background: A national heroine of France. Born a peasant girl and through divine guidance, led the French army to restore King Charles VII during the Hundred Years' War. She was burned by the English for heresy.
Now Joan of Arc is a very famous figure and has been connected to the Niijimas and honestly just any female character who has a leadership position so Makoto having Joan of Arc as her corrupted persona is not very original but 🤷‍♀️
So besides Joan of Arc's associations with leadership and the military, she was assigned to Shadow Makoto due to her story about how she was led by 'divine voices' throughout her life. Shadow Makoto rules with an iron fist under her belief that the desires of the people that she hears are telling her to take leadership and take control over their lives. It's essentially an inversion on Joan of Arc's story as while the voices Joan of Arc heard were ultimately for the good of France, Makoto's ultimately do not help the people of Japan who become dependent on her as she dictates every bit of their lives in her position as a goddess alongside the other Phantom Thieves.
Shadow Makoto is meant to be a shadow who shakes things up. She's essentially a wake up call boss and character. As explained in Makoto's post, her palace is much more difficult to navigate and she is very ruthless towards the Infiltrators but regarding her character, she's the start of the Thieves' bad traits really getting emphasized. Ryuji, Yusuke and Haru had bad traits brought up too but they all had explanations related to trauma, Makoto's explanations have trauma as well but she's the first character who will show that the Phantom Thieves aren't shining beacons of moral righteousness and are ultimately human not just in their pasts but in their character.
Makoto is a perfectionist who showed in her intro that she believed a lot in the social hierarchy and followed the set social structure. When she joins the Phantom Thieves, she does start to see past this but she does ultimately decide to be a police commissioner which is a noble goal but her lack of second thoughts regarding becoming a member of the police shows that she still has a lot of faith in authority which the other Phantom Thieves don't have which is why her palace is very rule based and dictated by order.
The power of a god twisted Makoto to the person she could become in her path to becoming the police commissioner as reaching that position requires years and years of work and having to work in a system that is beyond broken and corrupt. Shadow Makoto 'fixed' the justice system by taking complete control of it as its leader not just as the police commissioner but as what is essentially its Empress. Technically it would be Prime Minister since her palace setup is more modern but Shadow Makoto's reign is absolute and under divine rule so Absolute Emperor is more accurate.
When Makoto is stopped and she is no longer corrupted, she would seriously reconsider her dream of being a police commissioner. It's a good dream and has some personal ties to her but she's seen firsthand how much it destroys people like her sister Sae. With her character she would most likely not give up on it entirely but she would take some time to explore other avenues of a much freer existence before throwing herself into the grueling work of police because while it is important to reform society, Makoto can't reform society when she's still stuck in her own bubble because the reason society went to shit was because it's a world filled with hundreds of thousands of millions of different people with different circumstances, wishes, dreams, etc.
Now for the appearance of Jeanne d'Arc as Shadow Makoto's corrupted persona isn't super fleshed out but an idea my friend came up with is that Jeanne d'Arc would be based on this cover on Born this Way by Lady Gaga
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To give body horror and be a throwback to Johanna but obviously more twisted and corrupted. The motorcycle would be more demented as Jeanne d'Arc than Johanna to highlight the fact that its a corrupted persona but also Jeanne d'Arc was quite a violent woman which is only natural in the military but is commonly glossed over by people talking about her story.
When Jeanne d'Arc is no longer corrupted, her form changes to a chariot to highlight how Makoto is no longer taking the lone path of a ruler but the path of a leader who supports and is supported by others.
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