#when i compare him to medic who has similar screen time it's like

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

I don't think Sniper's backstory is superfluous nor do I think it's too serious (it's REALLY funny like his backstory is hilarious. in kind of a sad way but it's funny) but it's like. kinda the only funny thing he gets to do for a while and he's not even an active player in it. I wish he got more interaction w individual characters besides just Spy (and Medic I guess?), like we KNOW how he and Spy work by now and that Spy thinks he sucks, but does like everyone else think he sucks to the same degree? I bet Soldier or Zhanna would have given him their clothes to tie around his waist. Idk I obviously really love Sniper and it might be annoying if ur like a dedicated Pyro fan or something to hear a Sniper fan say he wants there to be more Sniper, but I'm not rlly saying "there should have been more screentime for Sniper" I'm saying "in the screentime he was given he should have thrown pee at a robot like at least once"

I'm not usually someone to make Critiques of the tf2 comic bc it's yknow. the tf2 comic. but I wish they'd let Sniper be funnier. Like he barely does anything funny except for being naked. I think fans tend to write him off as closer to "straight man" than "actively funny" but that's not rlly the vibe I get off of him, he's a weird freak and you need to have people reacting to him being a weird freak. But that only gets to happen, like, once? Yknow with "this is a $10,000 Louis Crabbemache jacket". Demo kinda does it too but Sniper isn't even on screen for that and getting him to react is half the joke. I don't think he's overrepresented or overcharacterized in the comic (he's not in it THAT much cmon) but it's interesting how with all the screen time he gets they only bring up the pee thing like. once

[nanabrainrot]

A Private Affair [Husband!Miguel]

Hobie and Pavitr are convinced you and Miguel have a loveless marriage. Gwen insists they just don’t watch you two hard enough.

Husband!Miguel x Wife!Reader (just fluffy and playful miguel being flirty w u <333)

“What do they even talk about?” Pavitr quipped once as the rest of the team left the room with him.

While opposites attracted, you and Miguel carried a similar energy: serious and stern. Miguel was grumpier and prone to losing his cool compared to you, who was known for your aloof attitude right after being known for being Mrs. O’Hara.

“No clue,” Hobie grunted as he crossed a threshold past a number of anomalies, “might be a loveless marriage. Never seen ‘em hug or kiss like couples do.”

Gwen rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Of course you boys don’t see the subtlety of it.” The boys paused before huffing at the suggestion that their gender of all things obscured them to any nuance between you two: you never really touched, never dwelled on conversations beyond missions in front of them, and were never affectionate. It was just like seeing two coworkers and no more than that.

“What subtlety?” they inquired in unison, matching Gwen’s storter strides as they went toward the cafeteria.

“Just watch them more. Harder next time.”

-

“Earth-349’s anomaly is clear. Canon event still occurred at proper time and Earth-56’s anomaly is just awaiting transport. Went smoothly,” you reported, hands across your chest as you looked up at Miguel. His eyes weren’t on you though, just the screen. You weren’t missing the way he kept glancing though.

“Something on my face?”

“Nothing,” Miguel coughed, that shy way he did when he wanted to be close to you but couldn’t be. Smiles are saved for private, the facade of professionalism thinly veiling the tension between you two: you both just really wanted to go back home and get some rest, be close again.

It’s so hard to not just sink into his arms and coo at him like a cute puppy and coddle him with kisses as his wife but it generally was agreed upon to just be as controlled around each other as possible. It was destined to go downhill if you both got too touchy feely; he’d look like a lovesick fool instead of a leader and the same applied to you. Work is work and home is home.

“You keep looking at me though.”

“I can’t look at you?”

“You can if I have something on my face,” you retort with the smallest smile in the word - the corners of your lips tense as they slightly rose. He was funny in his shy nature like you weren’t married for years. His love was so cat-like, having to let him be skittish before he leaned into you.

“Then you do have something on your face,” he replies typing absentmindedly.

“I do?” you ask, genuinely worried you’d been clambering around with food on your face as a leader in the medical center.

“Yeah,” he said, “you’ve got pretty all over it.”

A slightly bigger smile. A professional one. “You got empanada on yours.”

He stands straight. “Really?”

“No,” you chuckle, “but you thought you did for a second huh?”

-

The way you stand by each other leaves room for Jesus, Hobie thinks. Miguel has to crane his neck down to look at you and you need to crane your neck up. The banter on the height difference is barely out of earshot when he hears you two as he stands outside of Miguel’s office: your voices all friendly and calm.

“Can’t you sit when I talk to you? You’re hurting my neck, Miguel,” you start, foot nudging the rolling chair to him.

“You’re hurting my eyes,” Miguel shot back quickly as he grabbed the back of the chair rolling at him.

“Calling me ugly now?” you snort with an eye roll, arms crossing in that closed off pose even with just your husband.

He narrows his eyes, that cheeky smile, “No. Just hurts to look at the sun, y’know?”

Hobie thinks he’ll throw up.

-

Gwen and Pavitr had seen you in the medical bay, Miguel sitting in a chair by your desk with some stitches in his forehead. Gwen and Pavitr only really needed a dash of hydrogen peroxide but you recommended they stay seated and drink water before they headed out. It’s just adjacent to your desk, separated by the thin hospital curtain - thin enough to hear you. Gwen’s fingers pressed to her lips as Pavitr went to speak (as he always did) and she gestured to the direction where your desk was.

You and Miguel were whispering… just loud enough for them to make out what you both were saying.

“You’re getting real old… coming in here with that gash,” you murmur, “swing faster. I never wanna see you bloody again.”

“Thought you said you wanted to grow old with me. Swinging slow so the arthritis doesn’t kill me,” he scoffed shortly.

“Hysterical,” you snip back in a low voice before pausing and saying, “but I just hate to see you hurt. Even if I get to see you in my unit.”

The murmurs stop as some shuffling is heard, the sound of little peppering kisses to his hair barely audible. “I just need a magic kiss and I feel better though. Get right out of your hair…” he chuckles lowly.

They can’t see you smiling.

“I won’t give you one then,” you start, “just cause I want to take care of my husband a little longer.” The little giggles and cooing from across the barrier are just a private moment overheard but it does enough.

Hobie and Pavitr just fake gag behind your backs now when they see your hands or shoulders brush against each other. It’s the little things of a marriage that are the most important, at work or at home.

[sophieinwonderland]

Hey, to our knowledge you aren’t a traumagenic DID system, but we really love your writing and takes on all things plural. Could you discuss the bad video that came out like 2 days ago called “It’s time to Revisit Dissociative Identity Disorder” by Neurotransmissions? We couldn’t get through it. Early on the dude starts talking about how alters aren’t their own people, and we looked in the comments and apparently later on the guy says that DID should be reclassified as a form of BPD or PTSD. Also stuff about Non-human alters being rare or something? It’s blurry and that’s where we stopped -Sincerely a DID system

So, I gave it a watch. Or, well, a listen at 2x speed while we walked since nothing in that video seemed necessary to actually look at the screen for.

There are a lot of minor nitpicks here and there. But most of it is just general stuff that you expect from psychologists and psychiatrists. Of course alters aren't people if you define a "person" as the biological human organism.

And likewise, are only "parts" of a personality if you define the personality as all of the personality traits of said organism.

I consider most headmates people. I think most headmates meet the definition of a person according John Locke's philosophy of a personhood. But I understand that there are legal and medical definitions that this won't use that philosophy. So I guess my overall opinion on his thing about alters not being people is... it's whatever. 🤷‍♀️

He's stating the psychiatric view on personhood, not going out and trying to police systems who use person language. There are bigger fish to fry.

I don't care for him comparing alters to a singlet having different moods in different contexts. I feel that this is an inaccurate representation of the disorder, and really shows that this is a person who hasn't treated or even interacted with DID systems.

I am also bothered by the claim about nonhuman alters being rare because... I don't think any sources are actually provided to back that up. It's a claim I see get thrown around a lot, but if there's a study surveying DID patients to find how many have alters that identify as nonhuman, I have yet to see it. There were some other points in the video that I had similar issues with, where he would just state that something is rare in DID, and then just give no follow-up. Those little claims that are supposed to slip into the audience's brain without giving time to think critically on what's being said.

And there were a lot of little claims like that throughout the video that I didn't like.

Overall, I actually find the video to be fairly balanced. For a video with which the majority of conclusions are things I completely disagree with.

I mean, most of the time as he would spit out something I disagreed with, he would also acknowledge the counter-argument that I was making in my own head before I could make it.

For example, when he's arguing that TikTok presentations of DID aren't matching the clinical presentations of the disorder, he's quick to acknowledge the counter argument that this is likely due in large part to these spaces supplying freedom to systems to be themselves without judgement. (Or something along those lines. I can't remember exactly how it was worded.)

On Misdiagnosis

At one point in the video, he talks about these periods where DID is popular and diagnoses soar. He mentions briefly that one counter-argument is that DID could be under-diagnosed because doctors don't understand it.

And while I appreciate him acknowledging this counterargument as a possible explanation, he really undersells it. DID has been estimated to have a lifetime prevalence in 1.5% of the population. About as common as schizophrenia.

Furthermore, we see that DID systems are likely to spend years in the psychiatric system before finally getting a DID diagnosis.

There is no epidemic of people being falsely diagnosed with DID. There is, however, an epidemic of people not being able to get an accurate diagnosis because of doctors who don't believe the disorder exists.

I discussed this before in my breakdown of the Imitated DID myth. Here is what I said then:

And when you hear a doctor claim that they've never treated or diagnosed an actual DID case, I want you to keep in mind that statistic that 26%-40% are diagnosed and treated for Schizophrenia first. And that many will be diagnosed with other disorders long before they can a DID diagnosis.

Misdiagnosis and underdiagnosis of DID is not some hypothetical issue. It's something many DID specialists, even the most ableist ones, have been blowing the whistle on for a very long time.

"All Models Are Wrong, Some Models Are Useful"

This is a truly fantastic quote that I hadn't heard before, and am really glad that the video introduced me to it.

It really succinctly describes a lot of my feelings towards mental illness and disorders: That these are not necessarily objective things but our own simplified human classification systems. That mental disorders are made to categorize people together who may benefit from similar treatment.

These are models that exist to serve a utility. If they don't serve that utility, then they're not useful.

With that in mind...

DID is a Useful Model

Perhaps not perfect by any means. But despite what he claims in the video, it is useful. Especially compared to the alternatives.

Even in the video, he acknowledges that DID treatment is effective at the same time as arguing the disorder should be eliminated and grouped with other mental disorders.

But if DID treatment works on DID, then doesn't that in itself make it a useful model?

Treatment for other disorders often would actually be harmful to DID systems, pushing them to ignore or tune out voices in their heads, leading to greater dissociative barriers and internal conflict.

Another claim made in the video is that DID would get more research were it a subtype of another more popular disorder, but I don't believe that's true either. I don't think most studies tend to care about specific subtypes of disorders.

Maybe if DID was classified as a form of BPD, it would get more research in the way that studies into BPD would include DID systems too. But that conflation of the two different disorders wouldn't actually be more research into DID. And even worse, it would completely throw off all data for BPD.

If you classify DID as a subtype of any other disorder, DID would get even less research as its own thing, would throw off data into that disorder, and would result in DID patients being subjected to treatment that may not be helpful to them and could even be actively harmful.

This is a truly awful idea.

A Model Where DID is a Type of BPD is Useless for Everyone... Except...

This comment stuck out to me under the video.

I'm not going to say that this is the motivation behind this particular video, but it is curious how it seems like the most researched and over-diagnosed medical conditions tend to be those that are most profitable for pharmaceutical companies.

Hey, remember that paper about Imitated DID I mentioned earlier where doctors decided 7% of their DID patients were falsely diagnosed. Do you want to know the result of a similar study into Schizophrenia?

When 7% of DID cases are ruled to be "imitated," it's a national health emergency and we need to root out the fakers.

But when half the people with Schizophrenia are falsely diagnosed, it gets swept under the rug and nobody talks about it.

I'm honestly one of the more pro-psych pro-endos you'll find, but it's hard to not see how a lot of the models we use to define illnesses, and the models that get the most support, happen to be those that will be most profitable for big pharmaceutical companies.

A More Useful Model Might Actually Go In The Opposite Direction

One thing that he was right about is that DID is vaguely worded and has a huge problem when it comes to actually being diagnosed.

Instead of grouping Dissociative Identity Disorder into other disorders it doesn't fit with, my solution would be to look at other disorders for dissociative symptoms, and broaden Dissociative Identity Disorder so there can be clearer lines between disorders.

Looking again at psychotic disorders, voice hearing in them often comes in two varieties. One is just totally random and unintelligible. Another are these more agentive voices with their own distinct personalities that are consistent over time.

I believe that many of these would be examples of what DID specialists would classify as "dissociative parts," and would fall under Partial DID in the ICD-11. I also believe these would benefit from the same sort of treatment used in DID, revolving around establishing connections and communication between the headmates.

There should also be a delusional subtype added that would encompass headmates with delusional self-beliefs. Such as if the voices believe that they're being implanted in the head by aliens, or that the headmate is actually another real, living person communicating telepathically.

(Would the POSIC community jump at me if I also suggested many instances of delusional companion syndrome would be better classified as a dissociative disorder as well?)

And while I'm focusing on voice hearing, I also think there may be other delusions that may actually be representative of "dissociative parts," especially delusions where one believes themselves to be someone or something else.

Some DID specialists have been testing DID treatment methods on hostile voices in psychotic disorders. If studies show this is successful, I believe the logical move would be to reclassify these presentations of disorders as dissociative, grouping them under DID or Partial DID, or a new "complex dissociative disorder" umbrella.

This obviously needs to be investigated further and would require a huge overhaul of the current psychiatric system that's sadly unlikely to happen given tradition, disbelief in DID by practitioners, and financial interests of big pharma.

But from the papers I've read and systems I've communicated with, this is the model that I feel would be most useful for patients.

[denimbex1986]

'There is a moment in Christopher Nolan’s political thriller Oppenheimer where its titular character – J. Robert Oppenheimer, the theoretical physicist behind the development of the nuclear bomb – begins to transform from scientific hero to political pariah.

At that story juncture it’s hard not to see him as the progenitor of America’s pandemic princeling, former presidential medical adviser Dr Anthony Fauci: one moment a saviour, the next almost nailed to a cross as politicians sought to assign blame for an event that it hadn’t come to terms with yet.

“That was a crazy time,” says actor Cillian Murphy, who plays Oppenheimer, “that intersection between science and politics. That was crazy. [The moment Oppenheimer realised] his utility was over. After that, the scientists, certainly in the army, were cut out. That moment in the movie is very telling.”

Oppenheimer is the work of director Nolan, but not quite as you know him. Based on the 2005 biography of Oppenheimer, American Prometheus by Kai Bird and Martin J. Sherwin, this might be Nolan’s most ambitious film. Perhaps his most political. Almost certainly, based on reactions at the first screening in New York, his best.

It boasts an extraordinary A-list ensemble: Murphy, Emily Blunt, Matt Damon, Robert Downey jnr, Florence Pugh, Rami Malek, Kenneth Branagh. It speaks to Nolan’s reputation, and the impact of the film’s script when offered, that actors accustomed to headlining their own films were happy to take on smaller roles just to be a part of it.

Oppenheimer is a blockbuster, though not in the Batman sense of the word. The film is in both colour and black-and-white. It has few special effects, but the ones it has are practical, not computer-generated, an important footnote when you consider the story takes us to the Los Alamos headquarters of the Manhattan Project, and its world-changing 1945 nuclear test blast.

It is also Nolan’s first script written in the first person; as a storyteller he has always preferred complex, knotted narratives with multiple perspectives. And it is in many ways Nolan’s first romantic story, at least in the sense that Oppenheimer’s complex and passionate relationship with his mistress Jean (Pugh) is a central thread of the story.

“Those scenes were written deliberately,” says Murphy of the film’s sex scenes, which created headlines of their own months before the film’s release. “He knew that those scenes would get the movie the rating that it got. And I think when you see it, it’s so f---ing powerful. And they’re not gratuitous. They’re perfect. And Florence is just amazing.

“I have loved Florence’s work since Lady Macbeth [William Oldroyd’s 2016 period drama about a woman embittered by a loveless marriage] and I think she’s f---ing phenomenal,” Murphy says. “She has this presence as a person and on screen that is staggering. The impact she has [in Oppenheimer] for the size of the role, it’s quite devastating.”

Development on the film was announced in September 2021, with Murphy attached from the outset. It had actually begun a few months earlier when Nolan’s wife, producer Emma Thomas, had called Murphy. Even though the pair had collaborated on Nolan’s Dark Knight films (2005-2012), Inception (2010) and Dunkirk (2017), the pair are not particularly close.

“Myself and Chris don’t keep in touch, you know,” Murphy says. “We don’t hang out and go to have pizza. We work together. And then we don’t see each other, and then we work. So, when I got a call from Emma, I knew it must’ve been about something. And then Chris got on the phone, and he said, this is my next project, I’d like you to be my Oppenheimer.”

Murphy took the news quite calmly, he recalls. Particularly when compared with other similar, and significant, moments in his career. When he got 28 Days Later, Danny Boyle’s 2002 apocalypse thriller that became his breakthrough role, he was in a queue at London’s Stansted Airport. “I remember jumping up and down in the f---ing queue,” Murphy says, laughing.

And then when Nolan offered him the role of the villain Scarecrow in his Batman trilogy, Murphy was struck deeply by the scale of what lay ahead. “I went, holy shit, this is going to be f---ing big. [I knew] this is a lot of work. So immediately then it turned from kind of joy into focus.”

When Nolan offered him Oppenheimer, his visible enthusiasm was tempered by maturity, but no less engulfing. “I had to f---ing sit down,” Murphy says. “But it was one of those great, glorious, pure moments of the kind of joy that you get only a few times in your life.”

Critically, Nolan did not want a biographical stitch-up of Oppenheimer, nor did he want the film to rehabilitate Oppenheimer’s complex reputation and legacy. This is, after all, the “father of the atomic bomb”, whose research created Little Boy and Fat Man, the bombs dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, ending the Second World War. In the final accounting, those two events claimed almost a quarter of a million lives.

“There isn’t any simple answer to that,” Murphy says when I explain the film’s handling of Oppenheimer had left me conflicted. “And I love it when the film does exactly what it did to you; it provoked you and made you think about Oppenheimer in different ways. That’s what we want to do. We’re not making a documentary, it’s a fictional account. I don’t think it’s meant to give any answers. I think it’s meant to ask questions.”

Murphy was born in Douglas, County Cork, Ireland in 1976. After flirting with both acting and performing in a band, he made his professional debut as an actor in 1996 playing a volatile teenager in Enda Walsh’s critically acclaimed play Disco Pigs. Walsh described him as “enigmatic”. The play made it to Australia two years later, but alas Murphy did not; he had left the production by then.

The younger man in Disco Pigs and the 47-year-old man who walks confidently into a New York hotel room, a week before strikes shutter Hollywood, are not the same men. Yet Murphy still retains the enigmatic aura Walsh spoke of. The same quality casting director Gail Stevens saw when, several years later, she put him in line for the lead role in 28 Days Later.

“I always say this: when I was starting out, a director said it takes 30 years to make an actor,” Murphy says. “I’ve been doing it since I was 20, so that’s 27 years doing it, and I think it’s about right, that estimation. I’m not quite there yet. But I think it does take that long to figure it out. And I’m still figuring it out.

“Some of my instincts are the same as they were when I was a kid, but I’ve kind of refined them,” Murphy adds. “One of the most important things for me, and it changed me profoundly when I worked with Ken Loach [on 2006’s The Wind That Shakes the Barley], was that I realised it is pointless spending all the time in your head. It’s pointless intellectualising work.

“You can do all the research, and I did for Oppenheimer, I did six months of research, but when it comes down it, it’s just you and the other actors and the director, and what matters is the truth … and that moment,” Murphy adds. “All the f---ing research in the world isn’t going to help you there. I’ve become better at doing that, being open.”

Open perhaps on the set, but off the set, Murphy is an unusually private man. He does not dislike giving interviews, but he is happy to point out he does not always see the value in them. He acknowledges his work gives him a public profile, but does not see himself as a celebrity. And his anonymity, he says, is one of the most important tools in the actor’s toolkit.

“I don’t know if [fame] is destructive, but I don’t think it’s useful,” Murphy says. “I’ve always felt that way. It always seemed logical to me that the less people know about you, the more willing they are to invest in you on screen. That seems entirely logical to me.

“And I think people are probably f---ing sick of me saying this, but I don’t see any reason why you should be a personality, just because you’re an actor,” Murphy adds. “In fact, I think, again, that’s not useful. And so I try not to do that because I’m not good at it and I just want to put everything into the work.”

And between February and May last year that is what he did. The film was shot on location in New Mexico, New Jersey and California, and explosives were used to re-create the Trinity nuclear test, the historic nuclear detonation that defined Oppenheimer’s legacy. Nolan was inflexible on that one point: a real explosion was required for the cameras to capture.

Murphy would spend part of the film fencing with Robert Downey jnr’s character Lewis Strauss, the former naval officer and political identity who was initially Oppenheimer’s ally, but ultimately became a key figure in the 1954 investigation by the Atomic Energy Commission into Oppenheimer’s background and associations.

Nolan gifted the two actors an unexpected and somewhat whimsical jumping-off point: the 1984 Milos Forman film Amadeus. “I put a lot of time and effort into the walk, the voice, the shape of his body, all of that,” Murphy says. “But something very useful that Chris said was, watch Amadeus again.”

Specifically, Nolan pointed to the relationship between the older composer Antonio Salieri, instrumental in the early career of Mozart but for whom the relationship was ultimately poisoned by jealousy. “That relationship, Salieri/Mozart, that’s the similar sort of dynamic that he was setting up here,” Murphy says. “It became very clear to me then that’s kind of what he wanted this Strauss/Oppenheimer relationship to be like.”

Murphy and Downey jnr, however, did not spend too much time talking about it, Murphy says. “Downey is so super smart and has incredible insights and is incredibly emotionally available. But the way I work, I don’t really like talking about it too much. I don’t see the benefit of it,” Murphy says.

“In those scenes with Downey, there was some f---ing energetic transfer, some vibrations between the two of us that it felt to me like … like we were playing music,” Murphy adds. “He’s such a f---ing brilliant actor and he’s so responsive to the tiniest shift in energy from the other actor. And there were times where Chris would let us just improvise and it was kind of electric.”

History’s relationship with Oppenheimer is as complicated as Nolan’s attempt to craft a narrative around him. Strauss’s inquiry tried to turn him into a pariah and was, to some extent, successful; Oppenheimer’s security clearance was revoked. But Strauss’s ambition to become Secretary of Commerce was also derailed.

Then, in 2020, 55 years after Oppenheimer died and 68 years after the clearance was revoked, it was quietly reinstated by the US government, which described the original investigation as “a flawed process that violated the commission’s own regulations”. The timing is revealing, says Murphy. “I wondered, did they do that prior to all the noise around this film? Knowing that the spotlight would make people re-ask the question?” he says.

In the final analysis, Murphy reflects, Oppenheimer the man was somewhat unknowable. “In a conventional movie, the protagonist’s arc goes from A to B, something happens, and they’re a changed character. End of movie,” Murphy says.

“The case with Oppenheimer was all over the place. It was kind of unclear where he stood. He was unreachable, even to the people close to him. But when you’ve got arguably the greatest director of his generation, you just lean into him.

“I leaned into Chris all the time in terms of where we were and where he stood and his journey morally. I didn’t think it was an important message film, I never thought like that. All I was thinking about was trying to make the performance as truthful and as honest and as accessible as possible.”

Oppenheimer opens in cinemas on July 20.'

[whitherwanderyouspirit]

Gonna jump back to the sun damage part of the post chain briefly since I didn't get around to responding yesterday -- I think that makes sense for the change to act like a temporary hold, like putting pressure on a wound until medical attention can be applied, but something else occurred to me: if the injury carries over in some capacity instead of the change acting like a temporary bandage, would it end up as a similar condition on the human form? Like sun damage transferring over as sun poisoning? Also fairly painful with its own set of nasty symptoms and runs the risk for serious complications, but presumably less lethal and easier to heal from than partial-petrification of a giant patch of stone-dermal layer.

If part or all of the injury carried over but applied differently due to the different biology at play, it would afford the option of choosing to heal in a form better suited to recovery. Particularly in the case of sun damage, it opens a door for changelings that regular trolls don't have -- one more way to avoid death by sunlight. Sun poisoning eventually heals and the skin returns to normal. And if damage carries over between forms, presumably healing would as well?

Skipping down to the bottom two posts re: healing factors -- I agree completely. Just based on the turn around time we see between Nomura and Walter getting damaged and when they appear recovered, accelerated healing seems likely.

Also agree with Pinky regarding the situation not being as cut and dry as Walter explains it in the moment for two reasons. One: there seems to be a sort of bleed-over, at least in moments of heightened emotion. Specifically, the glowing eyes, the little growls the characters make occasionally when angry in human form. Also not emotion related but Walt's ability to turn a freaking couch on its side like its nothing when they're setting up traps for Angor Rot. I have to wonder if he even picked up on the fact that's not something normal middle-aged men can just do without working out.

Which brings me to number two: I do not think Walter is the most reliable narrator when it comes to understanding what it is to be a troll. I would suspect none of the changelings are based on their upbringings and having a combination of Gunmar and the Gumm-Gumms drilling propaganda and negative behavioral patterns into them for literal centuries, and then dealing with Bular on a regular basis. We see little hints of it, the most prominent that comes to mind being when Walter's describing gravesand to Jim and tells him that "changelings use it to get in touch with their trollish nature." Which tells me a couple of things: he equates rage and anger with trollish nature (and given who has formed his understanding of what it means to be a troll, I don't think that's a surprise -- he doesn't have any positive examples that the viewer knows of), and he doesn't believe he and the other changelings possess those traits innately (at least not to the same degree that he perceives "regular trolls" do).

There's also a couple of subtle signs shown on screen that hint at other slight differences, like NotEnrique drinking milk (or at least formula) with no issue, despite the seeming implication that trolls don't like the taste of cream and possibly other milk-based dairy (human Blinky vs troll Blinky, then again shown in the background when Aaarrrgghh squirts the can of whipped cream in his mouth and makes a face like a kid who immensely regrets putting that in his mouth, prompting him to eat the entire can to get the taste out of his mouth). So possible adjustments to taste buds to accommodate a more human diet. And then the obvious physical build discrepancies between the smaller, scrawnier changelings when compared to regular trolls.

It probably boils down to a ship of Theseus situation -- how much of the troll can be changed while still being considered a troll? Walter seems to identify that form as "fully troll," despite the differences the audience picks up on, that he is probably aware of himself on at least some level. The regular trolls in the series probably would not agree that he and the other changelings are "fully troll", ergo the "impure" slur and referring to them as abominations. Blinky even establishes that the regular trolls consider them "changed," and based on what we the viewer see, he's probably not just referring to the brainwashing regimen they've been put through, but a perceivable, physical change.

I wonder what the equivalence is between damage the changelings take in their human form versus their troll form.

I know we see a few examples, like Nomura limping after she injured her leg and Strickler's injured arm. But I'm thinking serious injuries--like if a changeling got shot in their human form, would their troll form merely have a crater? If they get stabbed in troll form, would their human form just have a nasty welt and sharp pain?

Makes me wonder if they could choose which form to recuperate in based on the nature and severity of their injury.

[unwrittenlibrary]

keep you warm and safe

summary // bonus part to my arms will hold you; bucky and his wife as she goes through the twelve hours of labor. stories, pain, games, jello and lots of love. [established bucky barnes x fem! reader]

words // 3.2k

warnings // depiction of labor, epidural usage, hospital birth & excessive use of nickname pretty girl

notes // eeeeeeeeeek i was so excited for this request! i love bucky + the mrs + this dynamic so much. note this is written in a similar style as the first piece; snippets of each hour.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Hour One 

Bucky doesn’t know what to do to help you, that much is obvious to you. It might even make you laugh, if it hadn’t been for the pain that was coming and going. Dr. O had apologetically explained that you were only six centimeters dilated and would have to wait until you were at ten, which you knew, but it still sucked to hear.

You groan, a mixture of pain and annoyance, as Bucky looks at your doctor sadly. “How long will that take?” He asks curiously. 

She shrugs before pulling up your chart on the tablet at the end of your bed. “It really depends. It could be anywhere from an hour to more than twelve. Every woman goes through the stages of labor differently.” 

Bucky’s hand is still rubbing your stomach gently as he continues to ask questions. “But her water broke. Her contractions are only a few minutes apart. How can it take another, like, ten hours?” 

Your hand grips him tightly. “Buck, it doesn’t matter.” You say in a tired voice. 

He turns to you a little apologetically. “Sorry, I’m just curious.” He admits sheepishly. Dr. O takes her leave with a kind smile and a gentle pat on your shin. Bucky looks down at you again. “Dads didn’t really go in the room with their wives when I was younger. My dad and I sat out in the waiting room when Becca was born.” 

You look at him with curious eyes. “Really? Your mom was all alone?” 

“I think my grandma was with her for a while, but yeah, pretty much.” He shrugs. “We were let in after Rebecca was cleaned and wrapped up. It’s nice being able to be with you. I just want to help.” 

Your heart swells at his admission. “That’s so sweet, Bucky.” You whisper resting your head against his shoulder. “Tell me about that day.” You demand quietly, hoping a story would help distract you. 

“I don’t really remember much of it.” Bucky starts. “But I remember my dad and I sitting in the waiting room and you know, we lived in such a gloomy time. Before the depression we weren’t too well off, so I know my parents were a little stressed about having two of us hooligans.” He laughs gently and you smile. You feel yourself relax at his voice and although there’s still pain, you’re not struggling to breathe anymore. “But when my dad saw Becca and the nurse let him hold her I saw it all go away. My mom let me crawl into the bed with her. Nothing like this one, mind you. It was smaller and way less comfortable, but she still wrapped her arm around me and kissed my head and my dad introduced me to Becca.” He hastily wipes a tear away. “It’s one of the few good memories I have of back then.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” You say, a little guilty. You hadn’t meant to make him sad by bringing up his family. “I wish they could meet me and our babies.” 

Bucky smiles down at you then presses a kiss to your cheek. “Me too, but I know they’re proud of me. I know they would’ve loved you. That’s all I need.” 

You groan as another contraction hits and Bucky sits up a little straighter, his hand immediately rubbing up and down your back. “You’re so strong. I love you so much.” He murmurs as you breathe deeply. 

“I’m so proud of you.” You say a moment later when the sharp pain has passed and you have a second to breathe. 

Bucky snorts and looks you over with his eyes. “Not prouder than I am of you. Nothing I’ve done in this lifetime can compare to what you’re doing right now.” 

And - well - a small part of you wants to argue that Bucky saved lives daily, but the rest of you agreed. Bucky would never do this and his support and pure adoration made it a little easier. 

Hour Three

“I’m hungry.” You complain. Dr. O had left a little over twenty minutes ago after declaring you were still only dilated six centimeters, which felt impossible but who were you to argue with her? “What can I eat?” 

Bucky’s begun pulling out some of the stuff you had packed in the go bag and organizing it in the small hospital dresser. 

“The nurse said I can get you ice chips or jello, but that’s really it.” He answers apologetically. You sigh mournfully. All you really wanted was something to fill you up. “Want me to grab some?” 

“Jello, please.” You shrug. “Are you sure I can’t eat anything? I want, like, mashed potatoes.” You tap your fingers against your stomach as you adjust your pillow behind you with one arm. 

Bucky laughs as he comes over to you. “I’m sure, pretty girl.” His hand cups your cheek gently and you look up at him with a pout. “I’ll bring you some jello.” 

“Thank you.” You smile up at him. Dr. O enters as he leaves and he pauses. “Go! I’ll be fine.” You wave him away as she comes to your bedside. He waits for a moment before finally stepping out of the room. You look at Dr. O with a tired smile. “Checking me again?” You ask.” 

“I will in a little while. I came to talk to you about an epidural. You’ve already been in labor for a few hours and it looks like you’ll be one of the women who is in labor for a tough amount of time.” She explains gently. “It’s completely up to you. You have some time to think.” 

You nod. Your contractions still hurt and they took the wind out of you when they came every few minutes, so it didn’t feel like the worst idea. “Come back in half an hour? Can I have some time to think?” 

“Of course!” She nods. “Take your time. Remember nobody is here to judge you, it’s your body and your choice entirely.” 

You smile. “Thank you.” You relax against your pillow as you wait for Bucky to return with your jello. You think of Dr. O’s advice torn between having a natural birth and the gruelling pain it could leave you in for hours. 

“I come bearing jello.” Bucky pushes the door open softly and smiles at you with two cups of jello in his hand. You frown at their small size and Bucky chuckles. “I know they’re small, that's why I brought you two.” 

You smile gratefully when he peels one open and hands it to you along with a small spoon. You moan at the taste of it and the feeling of being able to eat something even though it’s something small like jello. 

“Dr. O asked if I wanted an epidural.” You murmur in between bites. Bucky nods. “What will that do?” He asks curiously. 

You take a deep breath as pain shoots through you. “Help with these contractions in case labor goes on for hours. I don’t know some women just go entirely natural, I’m torn.” 

“Well is it unsafe?” He asks before handing you the second cup. You shake your head. “There are risks to every medical procedure. It’s not like, bad for the babies but it can have some risky side effects.” You explain. 

Bucky looks at you with intent, like he doesn’t want to miss a word that comes out of your mouth. “You know it’s up to you. Nobody else's opinion should matter, it’s not their body.” 

You take a deep breath. “I know… I just don’t want people to think I’m like, not woman enough or-“

“Stop.” Bucky cuts you off harshly. You look at him with wide eyes. “Pretty girl, nobody can tell you anything about your choices. Got that?” He tilts his head so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. 

You’ve always loved Bucky’s eyes. His emotions reflected in the blue that held your own stare until you nod slowly. 

He smiles then flexes his vibranium arm. “And if they do, they can deal with me.” 

Hour Five 

“Call them back!” You laugh as you sit up in bed. The pain has lessened considerably after the epidural at hour four, when you had only been dilated around seven centimeters. “I’m fine, Buck!” 

Bucky looks hesitant as he pulls the phone out. “Are you sure, pretty girl? If you’re tired you can take a nap or-“

“Bucky.” You whine a little. “I want to talk to my friend! Call Sam back!” He sighs as he pulls out his phone and sets it up on your little tray for food. 

It rings for a few moments before Sam’s face appears on the screen with a wide smile. “My favorite people!” He cheers when he sees you two both in frame. “Man, has anybody told you how beautiful you look right now?” He says sweetly. 

You roll your eyes. “Only every hour. Bucky won’t stop saying it.” You nudge his side playfully. “I look like a disaster, but I appreciate it.” 

Sam and Bucky both shake their heads. “Not true at all. You look like a goddess.” Bucky says sternly. You giggle as Sam snorts. 

“How far along are you?” He asks. You shrug. “About three more centimeters to go, but the doctor said it could take awhile.” 

“Should Steve and I come camp out in the waiting room?” He smirks. “I’m about to buy out the whole gift store.” 

You laugh. “Not necessary! Bucky will text you when we get closer if you want to come down.” 

Sam rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Of course we do. Life gets so boring here at the compound. Steve!” He yells out. You and Bucky flinch at the drastic change in tone. “Steve! Come here!” He looks back at the camera. “He came to help with training today, that worked out great, didn’t it? We can carpool.” 

You both nod as Steve forces his face into the camera view. You and Bucky smile brightly at him and wave. “Hey! You guys look great! I can’t believe you’re gonna have two babies soon.” 

“I can!” You shake your head. “Almost nine months of these babies inside of me, I can’t wait to have them in my arms. I want to drink coffee again and have wine!” 

The three men laugh and Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead. There’s a knock at your door and you two look up to see one of the nurses quietly coming in. “We’ve gotta go! Bucky will text you when you can come down.” You wave goodbye before Bucky grabs his phone and sits up. 

“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “I wanted to come in and say hi, there’s a shift change right now so you'll be seeing me for the next twelve hours.” 

You frown. “Is Dr. O still here?” 

She nods. “Dr. O is on call for you! We’ll be doing regular checks and then we’ll call her back when we believe it’s time to start.” You nod gratefully as she moves towards your bed. 

Hour Seven 

“D1?” You look behind Bucky’s shoulder quickly before back down at your small model ocean. He lets out a defeated sigh and nods. 

“Hit.” You smile victoriously as you place the red pin on your screen. You had sunk his carrier, cruiser and submarine. There were only two left. “A11?” He guesses.

You shake your head. “Miss.” He places yet another white pin on his screen. “E1?” 

Bucky looks up at you suspiciously. “How are you so good at this?” 

“I just know you, my love.” You smile a little too big and Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What?”

“You’re lying.” He looks your face over. “How are you cheating? Can you see over here?” 

You let out an offended gasp. “I would never cheat!” Your tone is a little over dramatic, so you’re not really selling it, but it makes both of you dissolve into laughter. 

Bucky turns around and catches the reflection of his board in the wall mounted television. He nods in an impressed manner before turning back to look at you. “Nice. I’ll let slide because you’re about to push out our children but any other time…” He trails off wagging a finger at you. 

You laugh softly as he begins to pack away the game. “I love you, Buck.” You say sweetly. 

He smiles at you. “I love you too, pretty girl.” 

Hour Nine

“You’re at eight!” The nurse cheers. “Two more, mama! We’re so close!” You look over at her with a tired smile. You had been in and out of sleep since Bucky had packed away the Battleship game. 

Bucky runs his fingers up and down your arm. His fingertips offer some cooling comfort, but you’re exhausted. Nine hours of sitting in the room, getting hourly checks and not being able to move around besides small walks has taken a toll. 

“What do you need from me, pretty girl?” Bucky murmurs. 

You shrug. “I want this to be over with. I want to have them in our arms. Why is it taking so long?” You mumble in a trembling voice. You hadn’t realized how emotionally exhausted you were too. 

Bucky sighs sadly as he stares down at you. “I’m not sure, pretty girl. The doctor said every woman goes through labor differently.” 

“That does nothing to help me.” You snap at him. Bucky’s eyes widen and you squeeze your eyes shut willing the tears gathering in them to go away. 

You feel Bucky rub his hand up and down your arm. “You’re okay.” He whispers. “You can cry, pretty girl. Nobody is gonna judge you.” He says quietly, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek. 

You open your eyes to look at him apologetically. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, but he shakes his head. 

“Nothing you say or do while going through this is going to offend me.” He explains gently. “If you wanna yell at me, yell at me. Just let me help.” 

You laugh wetly. “I’m not gonna emotionally abuse you.” You rest your hand over his on your cheek. “I just need you here to listen to me complain and say I know it sucks.”

“That’s it?” He chuckles and you shrug. “And maybe get back in bed with me for a couple minutes.” He smiles and you scoot over a little bit. 

Bucky presses himself to your side and wraps a careful arm around you. You take a deep breath and rest your head against his shoulder. You don’t even notice the tears until Bucky begins to wipe them silently off your cheeks while pressing kisses to your forehead. 

“You got this, pretty girl. Just a little while longer.” 

You nod. “Get more jello for me, please?” You ask quietly. Bucky laughs, but moves to stand up. “The cherry flavor this time!” You call out as he opens the door, his laughter echoes in the hall and it makes you smile.

Hour Ten

“Nine! You’re doing so well! Your babies are almost here.” You smile brightly at the words and turn your head to look at Bucky. 

“You know you can sleep a little? You’ve been awake this entire time.” You urge. Bucky had been with you every minute you were awake. He ate when you were asleep so you wouldn’t be jealous of the food. Finished unpacking your go bag and talking to nurses, you couldn’t imagine that he had found the time to rest. “I don’t want you passing out when you see what happens when I push these kids out.” 

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. “I promise you I’ve seen worse.” He pulls one of the chairs up to sit beside you. Squeezing both of you on there had just become too hot and uncomfortable for you. “Besides, I slept for a little while you napped.” 

“For how long?” You cross your arms over your stomach. 

Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Like twenty minutes? I’m fine, pretty girl. I used to go days without more than an hour of sleep. You don’t have to worry about me.” 

“That’s why I worry about you.” Your hand finds his resting beside you on the bed. “I know you’ll play it off until you pass out from exhaustion.” 

Bucky smiles like he’s surprised by your love for him. Maybe he still is, even after all this time together. You smile back. “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, pretty girl. Not the other way around.” He teases. 

You shake your head. “I think we’ve always been good at comforting each other. Doesn’t matter when.” Bucky smiles brightly at you with a nod. 

“You’re always right.” He murmurs. “What would I do without you?” You open your mouth to respond. “Don’t answer. I don’t even like thinking about it.” 

Hour Eleven

“God. Fuck.” You groan. The pressure you feel mixed with the dulled contractions was awful. “Can I push? Please?” You look down at Dr. O. 

Your room has been set up with incubators, medical tools and you felt exposed to the group in front of you. She nods. “When you start, we’re gonna count to eight, okay? Then a rest period.” She looks between you and Bucky.

Bucky presses a quick kiss to your forehead before wrapping one of your hands between both of his. “Ready, mama?” You nod hastily as Dr. O begins to count out loud. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You squeeze your eyes shut and focus on her counting only letting out a breath when she says stop. “You look amazing right now.” Bucky whispers and you scoff.

“Just need you to breathe with her, Mr. Barnes.” Dr. O urges gently and he nods, breathing in with you before breathing out.

The routine breathing helps relax you for your small rest break before Dr. O begins counting again for another push. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl.” 

Bucky’s got his left hand interlocked with yours. “Breathe.” Dr. O lets out. “You’re so close.” She cheers you on.

“I can’t do this. I can’t.” You shake your head with teary eyes. After hours and hours of restlessness, you’re exhausted. You can’t help but feel this will take you out. You can hear your heart monitor spike a little. Bucky’s eyes frantically look around the room which does little to quell your worry. “Bucky.” You cry.

“We need to push, Mrs. Barnes.” Dr. O urges. You shake your head but stop when Bucky’s hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him. 

“You can do this.” His voice is stern. “You know you can. What did I say? This isn’t gonna be what takes you out, pretty girl.” You sniffle as you watch him talk. “You gotta push for me, okay?”

You take in a deep, shuddering breath before nodding. “Okay.” You say quietly before turning your attention back to Dr. O. “Okay.” 

Hour Twelve 

“A boy and a girl.” You murmur tiredly as Bucky pushes back stray hairs and wipes the sweat off your forehead. “Our babies.” 

“Our babies.” He agrees a little wetly. “You did amazing, pretty girl. I’m so fucking proud of you.” 

“Did you call the boys?” You ask. You can hear the cries echo in the room as nurses perform necessary checks. Bucky laughs. “I did. They’re in the waiting room.” He answers. 

“Are they okay?” You ask, unable to move and check yourself. Bucky looks over his shoulder before looking back down at you. “They are. They’re perfect, just getting cleaned up. A boy and a girl.” Bucky murmurs in awe. 

“Eleanor and Steven.” You whisper. “Can I hold them?”

“Soon.” Bucky smiles before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “A couple more minutes.” 

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // i’m so glad someone liked my arms will hold you enough to want more of it! i love family bucky, he has my heart. 

replies and reblogs are appreictaed if you enjoyed this! 💞

[deewithani]

Raindrops in the Wind - Chapter 4

Chapter Rating: T

Work Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Jango Fett x F! Reader

Word count: Approx. 2.8k

Warnings: No warnings for this chapter

Chapters will list their individual ratings, work is rated Explicit (18+) for eventual explicit content.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

The hallways of Tipoca City bustled with activity. People of all different ages and stations walked to and fro, doors opening and closing behind them as they go. The city was like nothing you had ever seen, pristine in it's cleanliness, the only place you had ever been that had been near to it was the clinic on Milvayne, but even that clinic was filthy hole compared to the facilities here on Kamino.

They were, in short, everything you had ever hoped to see for a medical facility.

But Tipoca City wasn't just a medical facility.

~~~

A medical droid had been sent to retrieve you from the transport on the day you arrived, holopad in hand. A quick “Here are your day's orders. Follow me.” was all it said, before pushing the holopad into your hands and moving back in the direction it came. You followed the small droid off the transport, through the rain, then through the nearly identical hallways of Tipoca City, stopping here and there to pick up any clothing or supplies that were indicated on the holopad that you needed. As you trailed the droid you passed by several young human men who looked shockingly similar. Speeding up your gait to walk beside the droid, you asked “Hey, what's the story with those guys?” “No questions while we are working. I will answer any questions to the best of my ability when we have arrived at your personal room.”

After a short time you were led to your quarters, a small room with  a bunk, a desk and a chair. There wasn't much room for anything else, but it was yours. Clean and dry, and didn't smell of rot or death, it was much better than your previous lodging. “There is a map of the facility on your holopad. Use it to acquaint yourself with the facility before tomorrow. You are authorized to visit and observe any location listed on your map without prior approval or an escort. Do not, under any circumstance, go to any location that is not shown. Your contract may be revoked if you do not abide by these rules. Do you understand and agree?” The droid was quiet for a moment, seemingly waiting for you to speak, before continuing, “I require your agreement to these terms before continuing.”

You thought for a moment. There was so much about this place that was strange and unfamiliar, and you ached to leave your bunk and “see the sights”, as it were.

“Will you answer some questions if I agree? You said you would once we finished.”

“Yes,” the droid replied. “I will answer any questions you have based on what my programming allows.” This was not exactly the answer you were looking for, but getting some information would be much more helpful than what you currently had, which was essentially nothing.

“Ok. I agree to the terms. Now, are you ready to answer my questions?”

“That is affirmative. You are now permitted to ask me any questions at any time. I will respond as appropriate to my programming.”

The first question you wanted answered came easily. “What does that mean, 'appropriate to your programming'?” The droid replied to your query quickly, “There are procedures and information that is restricted. I may have authorization to access this information, however, I cannot provide restricted information to anyone who is not also authorized. If you ask a question that has an answer that is restricted for you, I will tell you that it is restricted. If the answer is not restricted for you, I will provide my full knowledge of the information to you. If I do not know the answer, I will tell you that I do not know the answer. Does this answer your question sufficiently?” “Yes”, you continued. “I have a few more questions, if you don't mind.” “Certainly, please continue.”

Your mind wandered back to the young men you passed earlier in the day. There had been 10 of them, walking two-by-two in straight lines, in matching tunics and pants, but that wasn't all that had matched. As they passed they looked nearly identical to your eyes, but you didn't have a moment to really look closely, and when you asked the droid it was quick to put you back on track, stopping your query almost before it was out of your mouth. “The men we passed earlier, that I asked you about. Why do they look so similar.” The droid replied quickly, without hesitation, “They are clones. Kamino's primary export is clone technology. Many clones are created and trained here for many purposes.” “And what is their purpose?” The reply again came quickly. “They are soldiers.” “Why is Kamino creating soldiers?” At this question, the reply came much slower. “That is restricted.” You decided to push a little further, the question of the existence of these young men weighing heavier on you than you expected. “How many are there?” The droid again gave an oddly slow reply, as others had came quick and with sufficient explanation. “That is restricted.”

You resigned yourself to the idea that you were not likely to get as much information as you would like from the droid regarding the clones you had seen, so you decided to ask questions that were more pressing for why you were here in the first place.

The answers to your questions came quickly again, as if these were the questions the droid was prepared to answer. “What will I be doing while I'm here?” The droid chirped up at this question, as if it had emotion and was happy that you asked it. “You will be working in a medical and training role. You will begin tomorrow.” “Who will I be working with?” “That is currently restricted, however you are scheduled to be authorized to receive that information tomorrow after orientation.” “What do I do the rest of the day?” “Anything you want, as long as it is confined to the areas you are authorized to go on your map.” “What if I have other questions?” “I will return tomorrow with your orders for the day, you can ask questions to any droid of my type that you see and they will answer in the same manner, or you can request assistance from one of us directly from your holopad.”

You were ready to send the droid away, but one last question lingered on your mind before you would go explore the city. It seemed silly, but with the restrictions seemingly placed on what information you were allowed to know, you wanted to make sure before you opened your mouth and asked a question you couldn't take back to someone you shouldn't be talking to. “Can I talk to people here? Like the men in the hallway?” The droid cocked it's head slightly, as if in thought, and replied “Yes, you can talk to anyone you like, as long as they are in an area you are authorized to access. They are not required to answer you.”

~~~

Nearly a month had passed since you first came to Kamino. The areas you were authorized to access were surprisingly large, and you were seemingly only restricted from the private offices of medical personnel and the private dwellings of others who were working for the Kaminoans as you were. The information flowed more free than you had expected as well. When the droid returned on the second day with your orders, you had expected to be doing shady work that you would have to hide from others. Instead you experienced a normal, if rather boring, training and orientation class where you were provided with everything you could possibly need to perform a satisfactory job while you were here. You learned that you would be a trainer, both in providing emergency medical assistance when options for medical supplies and facilities were lacking or non-existent, and also training them in dealing with civilians, of which there was an extremely short supply on Kamino. Everyone in the places you were authorized to be was either a Kaminoan medical worker, someone training the clones in the art of war, or a clone. You were none of these things. You were someone who knew how to blend in, lay low, survive and help others survive, and you were exactly what the Kaminoans had been looking for to help round out the clones' education.

Before you were hired the younger cadets had been training for civilian contact by watching holovids, which had not been as effective as the Kaminoans had hoped. The children had been acting out what they saw on the screen, but were having trouble knowing how to react when an interaction didn't follow a scripted narrative. They needed someone who had experience with a wider world than their brothers and trainers on Kamino, or a screen in their hands, could provide. They were introduced to this type of interaction with you gradually, whenever one had been injured in training and needed one-on-one medical assistance. At first you just sat in with the medical officer or droid that was assigned to the task, waiting in the room alone with the cadet so they could talk to you, if they were so inclined. You were instructed to ask the cadets about their pastimes, if they enjoyed games with their brothers, small, unimportant chit-chat that was intended to help them acquaint themselves with people outside of their normal social circle. Quickly these appointments began to include older cadets, and cadets that just needed standard medical physicals.

Your days followed the same pattern. In the mornings you would train older cadets in ways to treat and heal in emergency situations, and afternoons were filled with meeting and talking with cadets in medical offices, each one looking at you with the same eyes and same faces. You had seen so many and they had all blended together that you didn't notice a young clone in blue was very different than the others you had seen.

~~~

As Jango listened to Boba retell the story of meeting the woman at his checkup, it became clear to him that she did not realize that Boba wasn't a cadet. She had been free with information, asking Boba what type of games he liked to play in the barracks, who his best friends were, and what classes he most enjoyed. When he asked, she told him that she had talked with lots of other clones at appointments just like his. Boba played along like the good son he was, and Jango couldn't be prouder.

His plan was simple, he only needed to take the place of an older clone who had an appointment she would be at. Sure, he looked a bit older than his oldest clones, but this woman hadn't even noticed that his Boba was wearing a completely different outfit than the cadets she usually saw, so he thought she could be duped easily. How many clones had she even seen up close, face to face? Sure, they all had the same face, but many had scars from training that marred their otherwise smooth skin, and this would make it all the easier for him to pass himself off as a clone. He spread word through the Cuy'val Dar, and soon enough he was told he was scheduled for a checkup, well, CT-4138 had a checkup. CT-4138 had never actually met the woman, so there was little chance she would think that Jango wasn't the “real deal”. The real CT-4138 would be provided some “additional personal training” that would keep him from making the appointment, and no one would be the wiser.

When the day of the appointment came, Jango dressed himself in the same plain armor the older clones wore and set out from his apartment, walking down the stark white hallways of Tipoca City, occasionally stopping in to watch combat training or joining groups of clones as they walked to and from classrooms before breaking off yet again, turning down another hallway. There was always an opportunity to gather more information, and Jango used this time to listen to the chatter between clones, things that were only for the ears of their brothers. Talks of nightmares, troubles in training, and of the new trainer, the pretty girl running the emergency medic training class. Jango learned that word of her was running through the city like wildfire, cadets bragging that she favored them in her class, older clones bragging that she favored them in dark hallways and storage closets, but all agreeing that she was skilled and that her training, while not standard, would be more than sufficient in helping them save their brothers when all other methods were unavailable.

This was not all Jango learned. By and large the clones were itching to meet her. Where before they had dreaded their regular check-ins with the medical droids, now they were waiting with excitement for their turn with her. With the undercurrent of excitement moving through the them, Jango decided he should act excited at this meeting as well, and as the time neared for him to report to be observed he made a conscious change to his demeanor, putting on a slight grin, relaxing his shoulders, and walking as though he was holding himself back from bouncing in happiness. He thought he looked very much like what an excited clone who had never actually met a woman before would look like going to meet the girl of his dreams for the first time.

~~~

Your day had been busy, as usual. You had spent the morning showing cadets how to set broken legs with makeshift splints, watching as they occasionally held each other down and pretended to be in the middle of a war zone, fighting with an injured brother who is trying their hardest to keep the others from helping him. It may have seemed to outsiders to be silly, but in real life people didn't simply stay still and allow you to help them. They needed to be able to hold thrashing brothers down and help them, even if they were in pain, confused, and trying to get away. These training sessions frequently ended in “medics” carting off squirming “victims” on their shoulders, while the “victims” fell into fits of laughter as they pretended to scream in pain.

It would be a heartwarming display of the love they shared for each other if they weren't being taught how to fight, how to kill, how to protect each other, and how to die.

Some days it was too much, to painful to know that these men and boys had been created for the purpose of war. You would ask the droids what war they were created for, but you continually got the same reply, “That is restricted.” Somewhere in the Galaxy there was a war, either ready to break out or already in progress. There had to be. There was no reason to create men for a theoretical war. They were going to fight, someday, and they would die like soldiers in war do.

And there's nothing you can do to change that. The more you see them, the more you talk to them, the more you hate that you know this.

Shortly after arriving in Tipoca City dreams like the one that plagued you on Milvayne returned, the faces of the children much clearer now that you know was calling for your help. You move through the  white walled rooms and hallways of the city, passing by clones as the smiling faces of cadets look up to you, their voices thanking you for coming to help. But the dreams always end the same way, children laying still in those same hallways, lights darkened as you are grabbed by the hand and pulled out into the rain.

As you make your way to your first medical appointment of the day, you wonder if you should have came here at all. The pay has been good, but there is nothing you need to spend your credits on. All of your needs have been met by the Kaminoans. You have enjoyed your work, but all the cadets will eventually leave, even if no one will tell you why or when. You are not allowed to speak to anyone outside of the authorized areas, and you are not allowed to leave. There are so many people here, yet you feel even more alone than before you came.

The medical droid is outside the room when you arrive, holopad in hand, and as you walk through the door you realize your 'patient' has already arrived. “Are you CT-4138?” He looks at you quizzically, tilting his head slightly, before a slight smirk reaches his lips. “I am. You must be the pretty trainer.”

Taglist: 

@ashotofspotchka @gummywurme @bobabitch88 @the-empress-strikes-back @tacticalsparkles @rebelpitstop

If you want added to the taglist, please let me know

[im-still-watching-anime]

warning: this post is just me ranting about the writing of the naruto women for far too long

i honestly feel that one of the most frustrating/vaguely hilarious aspects of naruto is how naruto ended up being - and bear with me here - the best example of the extremely specific female archtype that kishimoto seemed to be obsessed with. 

like when you focus on sakura and hinata - arguably the most important female characters in the show as the two male leads’ respective end game love interests - you can break them both down into the same general mold:

- both devoted to the same boy their entire lives

- both are shown chasing after their crush in order to stand on “equal” footing (i.e. sakura’s “i finally caught up to them” and hinata’s “no longer chasing but standing by your side” mentalities)

- both suffer and try to overcome feelings of inferiority in their respective character arcs

and i want to be clear that while female characters who fit this mold aren’t usually my favorite thing it can definitely still work when written carefully and written well -  to be blunt i personally think both hinata and sakura are awesome character concepts and both had SO MUCH potential and i love their fanon interpretations but i feel that canonically they were poorly written, underdeveloped, and flat characters

most of their canonical character motivations revolve around their love interests - which really sucks because i would have KILLED for a deeper look at everything involving hinata and the hyuuga or even more about sakura’s development of her medical ninjustsu so much got skipped when it came to them which definitely didn’t help anything - that aside this is especially true in og naruto though to be fair - sasuke was still in konoha in og naruto and team seven was together for most episodes which made it especially prevalent in sakura’s case

the point is by the time shippuden came around it was extremely obvious that efforts were being made to improve the female characters - sakura now had much higher combat ability from the start of shippuden and, though she gets much less focus hinata is repeatedly shown doing brave acts and pushing herself to become stronger. and while i really loved the effort and it was definitely an improvement from especially sakura’s original character - it still fell flat to me.

sakura’s fight with sasori was perfect and a great way to revive her character but then she was pretty stagnant in a lot of the following arcs - i.e. injured in the reunion arc, not very important during the two saviors arc, her weird fake love confession during the assembly of the five kage arc, etc. - she constantly bounces between “now i’m strong” and “i still don’t measure up” making her character development - especially pre-war - virtually nonexistent because every step forward gets followed by a step back.

hinata is a bit more difficult simply because she’s such a minor character for so much of shippuden which is insane since she’s literally the protagonist’s future wife. regardless, looking at hinata’s big moments: her fight with neji in og naruto, blocking naruto from pain in shippuden, and the Smack during the war (there’s a few i’m missing i’m sure but those are really what constitutes her biggest moments to me during the meat of shippuden’s actual development phase - not the post war resolution phase) two of three of these moments precede her getting very heavily and soundly beaten which personally irks me - even if i don’t particularly like it i can see why and it makes sense to me she didn’t win the fight with neji or her pain confrontation and it definitely shows that she is brave and emphasizes the all-important devotion to her love interest aspect of her character BUT it’s also a little obnoxious that we never get to see her be REALLY victorious in her major moments.

so to sum up so far: sakura and hinata are both meant to be perceived as innovative and strong female characters but this perception doesn’t work in sakura’s case because she immediately repeatedly reverts back to the damsel in distress archtype and it doesn’t work in hinata’s case because the few strong moments she has are highlighted by failure.

and also the all important point that the majority of their “strong moments” are driven by their love interests - not a bad motivation except for the fact that that is one of their ONLY motivations

to the main point i’m trying to make: lets compare naruto (obviously take this with the understanding that naruto has a MAJOR advantage of having way more screen time and development as the titular character)

in regards to sasuke, naruto:

- is extremely devoted

- repeatedly chases after sasuke to match-up with him and improve

- and, especially in og, struggles with feeling inferior to sasuke

the context is a little different and the motivation behind some of the points changes between the two but it’s the exact same mold as sakura and hinata

the major difference between the two and the main reason that so many more people get frustrated with sakura’s devotion to sasuke and not naruto’s really boils down to development

sakura barely had her own character outside of loving sasuke and when she did, it immediately got downplayed in some way - just look at the war arc and her triumphant “i finally caught up to them” right before both sasuke and naruto essentially gain godlike powers, she then spends the war constantly distracted by sasuke even when fighting “sasuke isn’t worried about me at all” which really downplays her role.

on the flip side, even with his main goal of bringing sasuke back to the village, naruto has tons of motivation and character building outside of sasuke - ex. becoming hokage, gaining everyone’s acceptance, fixing konoha, living up to his parents/jiraiya’s expectations, bringing peace, protecting everyone he can, freeing the tailed beasts, etc. etc. you could go on forever the show is named after him after all.

we are told that sakura always chooses sasuke and nothing else about it but then we are told that naruto chooses sasuke despite everything else.

to sum up: the traditional female love interest that kishimoto wants to invent is the woman who is devoted. she puts the person she loves above everything else because she loves him. she’d do anything for that person even if it puts her at risk, etc. but at the end of the day there’s still the tired trait of still relying on the man in her life for certain things. and he doesn’t bother to expand characters like sakura and hinata beyond that. (great examples of characters who are almost completely separate from this mold are tsunade and temari - though one might argue about the way they were written designed to fit specific tropes for comedic moments - personally i think they manage to dodge that for the most part though)

with naruto and sasuke - naruto manages to fulfill every roll sakura is meant to in a much more elaborated and better way all without the curse of the female love interest that sakura and hinata bear. it’s hard to accept sakura and hinata’s “i’ll love you no matter what” when naruto is already actively outright doing that with sasuke. the roots of sakura’s feelings for sasuke, hinata’s feelings for naruto, and naruto’s feelings for sasuke are all exceptionally similar to one another which is what shoots kishimoto’s main romances in the foot - because it’s hard for them to measure up to the main “platonic brotherly” relationship he built between sasuke and naruto.

this post is obviously disregarding a lot of the Other really deep parts of sasuke and naruto’s relationship and some important points about the other women of naruto. also it’s important to think on the time period naruto and naruto shippuden were written in. we’re in a major incline period for improvement in how women are presented in fiction - just look at the difference of women between og and shippuden. obviously it doesn’t completely excuse anything but it’s a point to consider.

sorry for the rant and sorry if this is all really obvious to you or if it’s worded poorly, kinda just needed to word vomit my thoughts. i really like analyzing how women are represented in fiction and how the representations have developed over the years. i wrote a few essays about it for some of my courses and now i think about it all the time. obviously i’m not claiming this is how everyone should view these characters or anything i just had lots of my own thoughts about the entire situation and dynamics that i had to put SOMEWHERE. if you have any thoughts about it or points you wanna bring up feel free to do so i love fiction analysis a lot so i love hearing other people’s opinions

[everythingsouthasian]

DISCLAIMER: Find updates on this post with observations I make as I trudge along with my Hospital Playlist rewatch and when it returns for season 2!

Having just finished Reply 1988 (R88 as it's also fondly called), I'm legit getting #TaekSun vibes from Flower Garden (JWon x SHwa):

He gets awkward around girls in general but is super comfortable around SHwa (at least in terms of approaching girls romantically or extending his interactions with them beyond work); however, a bit of background into his past relationships, hopefully in S2, could massively help to corroborate this theory.

He appreciates every single thing about her, including her terrible singing and buying something as absurd as a wood stove; while she inherently knows what he's thinking and feels about certain things that others may not otherwise understand (are you psychic?)

Their values and work ethics align super closely (regarding patient care and following rules whilst doing their jobs earnestly).

They're both geniuses in their own right yet are deeply compassionate.

She takes care of/is attentive towards him in little ways (saves up meals/heats them up later for him, makes specially brewed coffees for him) and him towards her (carrying pain patches around, offering her the passenger seat so she can sit comfortably in the front rather than cram in with the others at the back, doesn't lean on her shoulder like Ik-jun does due her herniated disc issues, I can go on) whilst also respecting her personal space (not showing up when she's collecting her biopsy results).

He's got a sort of "2nd/3rd lead personality" (like Taek) who [hopefully] gets the girl in the end + has less screen time as compared to the lead (Ik-Jun presumably), probably the least of the 99ers - so, can we expect a plot twist on par with R88? Yes please!

This insightful post about Taek being a Baduk (Go-game) genius and how that dominated his romantic relationship on the show got me thinking about another similarity with J-Won - the latter is one of only 48 pediatricians in all of Seoul (the only doctor statistic that is mentioned on the show), so that is a mark of genius. Moreover, the post mentions how Taek's house becomes a metaphor for the blossoming friendship among the R88 gang; this, in essence, ties closely into how the 99ers reconnected on Jeong-Won's insistence and at the hospital ran by his father - how they left their lucrative jobs behind to cater to his request of associating their name/work with a prestigious hospital like YulJe whilst also reforming the band. He is kind of the glue that brings them together and keeps them together, which is what Taek (or his house) was to the R88 group.

Jeong-Won is shown to be a chaebol son i.e., super rich, coming from filthy money, father ran a super speciality hospital whose responsibility has now fallen on him, and so on. Choi Taek, while not a chaebol, is definitely the richest among his friends, just like Jeong-Won.

They both date other people before (hopefully) getting together.

SongHwa is the 10th best Neurosurgeon in the country - meaning that she is one of the best when it comes to head-related issues. We all know that paediatrics need to have a lot of heart i.e., empathy in their field to deal with infants/young children, so they need to have all the heart-related hacks up their sleeves on top of improvising things. Plus, Jeong-Won is one of the only 48 peads surgeons in the country, so he must clearly be an ace when it comes to dealing with the matters of the heart. The head and the heart are meant to be, time and time again human psychology has reinforced this point when it comes to compatibility between two people. It's no coincidence that ShinLee chose FlowerGarden to be in these respective medical fields than to say that they're a perfect fit, just like they made Choi Taek the Baduk genius from the get go.

Idk, R88 final two episodes have brought me even closer to Flower Garden, hope Shin/Lee PD follow through ❤️

[fatumsolutus]

Shadow of the Final Day

It’s after you’ve landed in Tokyo, and been escorted back to the boarding house provided by Kirijo and the Kirijo group. You’ve been unpacking and getting settled when your phone pings with a message. 

There is a video attached, from Moros. 

Some of you know him and have worked with him, some of you have only seen him in passing, and some of you only know him from his screen name. 

A man with blue hair, glasses and several tattoos appears in the video. He looks tired, with bags under his eyes. 

“Hi. It’s Jin, or Moros. I know some of us have been on edge since the video of Kirijo-san and Aegis-san was sent to us, or shared in the group chat. I want to talk about it,” Jin seems fairly comfortable on camera, as opposed to in person where he seems a bit skittish or wanting to keep himself distant. 

“I, more than most of you have very good reasons to be distrustful of the Kirijo group. Under a former head of the Kirijo Group, I was part of an experiment ran by the Kirijo Group. I was an orphan, taken by them, and subjected to horrific experiments. I was part of a group that had forced awakenings of their personas, resulting in an uncontrolled persona that was trying to kill me because I couldn’t control it. To control my persona, Moros, I had to take suppressants that were killing me. I escaped as a child, but the damage that the Kirijo group has done to me in the past is irreversible. ”

Jin sighs, looking a bit uncomfortable talking about his past.

“So that video made me suspicious of the Kirijo group as it did many of you. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Kirijo was doing something under handed under the guise of helping us. Since I’ve been in this world, Kirijo has helped me get access to a specialized medication I need to stabilize Moros, Without suppressing their power or poisoning me.”

“I looked into the video, not to disprove it authenticity, but to confirm it. And what I found was surprising, and in a way I didn’t expect. I’ve concluded-”

“This video is a fake,”

Jin’s face disappears off of screen, and the video popped up. 

“The first flag is that the video has a date stamp, but not a time stamp. So with the date, I searched the video feeds of the Kirijo Group headquarters, and could not find a second angle to verify this conversation from.”

“The second flag is the video quality itself. Kirijo employees that may have taken it, have access to much better quality of cameras. to not use a better camera is likely to purposefully obscure the details of the videos. If this was a real conversation, there is no need to obscure details,”

“Third, ‘Kirijo’ and ‘Aegis’ are filmed from behind. the person who filmed this didn’t want someone to examine their mouths to confirm the words with the way their mouths moved.”

“Fourth, Kirijo and Aegis’ voices aren’t correct, nor are their speech patterns. It’s subtle, so this might be weak evidence for those who haven’t heard them enough. Aegis uses a contracted word twice, but Aegis doesn’t speak with contracted words. Kirijo is a bit more subtle, but some of her accent doesn’t match up. not only that but not only that if you compare them side by side in wave forms-” 

An image of two wave forms pop up, looking similar but with sight differences. 

“They are different. And if you play them, they sound different. It’s subtle but it’s there, listen.”

Jin plays each file a few times, one after the other. 

“And finally, a much more technical reason, the meta data for the video is not right for what you’d expect to see for a valid video from inside the Kirijo Group Head Quarters.”

Jin re appears on the video. Still looking tired, but determined. 

“I didn’t look into this video to disprove it, I looked into it to confirm it and could not. I found a lot of evidence to disprove the validity of this video. Someone is trying to manipulate us with this video, and I believe it’s the unknown person or entity that has been messing with us, and is responsible for all of us being in this situation.”

“Believe me or don’t, it’s your choice. And Mitsuru-san I am not sorry for doubting you, but I am glad I disproved my doubt.”

“And finally, to Unknown, since I know you’ll probably see this. I do not like being manipulated. You have made a very competent enemy in this attempt to manipulate us.”

“Please, feel free to test that assumption at your earliest convenience,”

And with a determined stare, the video message ends.

[mayasdeluca]

I feel like ppl that likes the jack donor storyline, really miss the point of why is so nasty and disrespectful in any way you look at it…

Someone wrote an awesome Post about why it is so toxic, manipulative and disrespectful but I cannot find it and it was phrased it wonderfully…(you repost it too I guess)

The forced friendship is so cringe and everyone knew immediately why the writers did it…they don’t even try to be subtle, they are lazy, this is lazy writing.

It’s crazy how they literary destroyed Carina character in order to give a storyline and relevance to Jack, one of the most toxic and useless characters from the beginning of the show,even fictional lesbian are used to push the “white men is a hero/savior narrative”

Jack was slightly interesting at the beginning when he was competing for captain vs Andy and their relationship, the writers had a clear idea what to do with him, after his “relationship” with Maya he become stale, and with Inara I thought They finally gave him something of its own, whatever the reason why they ended, it was a bad move.

But nooooooo, they had to go and fuck up the best relationship on the show and 2 of the best characters that now only serve one purpose, give a white cis man a purpose.

Asking your wife to get her ex-sperm, the man she cheated with and almost destroyed their relationship, never apologizing and keep cheating with every women that step into 19, a guy with zero medical history, a very low IQ and non clear idea what “donor” means, it’s sick and not in a good way, they are not friends, they have never been, and the fact that ppl are trying to compare it to Danielle life experience is disgusting and disrespectful, I doubt the stories are similar in any way, at least I hope so…

Quotes that don’t make sense or have been distorted of their beautiful meaning:

-“I wanna hold a little you”

More like: “I wanna hold a reminder of the cheating and the fact that my ex sperm is in you now” 🤢

-“My job is high risk”

More like: “It’s high risk for a lesbian but not for the white cis man that gives sperm”

I really hope they don’t go ahead with it, they can defend it in any way they want, it’s still bullshit.

Carina character is ruined, she has not a personality any longer, not even a job apparently, she’s given 30 seconds per episode just to talk about sperm and her sudden love and admiration for Jack, almost all her scenes are with Jack, and spends more time convincing Maya that it is such a great idea, than actually evolving their relationship, this is not good…it really isn’t good writing…

They are forcing Marina to make him part of their family implying that lesbian cannot be a family without a man, the sperm donor, nope the sperm doesn’t give a man the right to claim “family”

Lesbian are not a way to give your lonely sad white man a storyline, if he’s boring, it is because they wrote It like, and trying to make the audience like him by forcing him inside a lesbian relationship is so so so nasty, and invalidate many real wlw relationships.

The acting and lack of chemistry makes it even more unwatchable, every time Jack is on screen I have to skip his scenes and 99% of the times involves Marina.

Someone in the writing room either is very homophobic or has some sort of crush on Jack and need to express it somehow.

I didn’t watch last episode and I won’t watch it again unless they totally remove Jack from their relationship.

Cause lesbihonest, if they go ahead with it, Jack is gonna be everywhere all the time, and this white men hero savior narrative is gonna be pushed even more

Leave lesbian alone jfc

These are all great points and I totally agree. I'm not really sure how anyone would be okay with him as the donor at this point when there's so much evidence why it's not a good idea. I think at this point people who are okay with it are just desperate to move on and realize that it's happening regardless so they're just accepting it? And there's still some Marina fans who like Jack as a character so I guess they don't mind that he's involved as the donor but I just don't know how they're able to separate the messy history and everything.

What confuses me about the writers and Jack is that his characterization is all over the place and when you think he's finally going to have some development or growth, they ruin it for no good reason. And I feel like it's because they have no clue what else to do with him. And they probably do think that this storyline is a way to shine light on what a good guy he is and it "makes up for the cheating" when in reality it really doesn't and it's all forced and no one cares to see it because none of it happened naturally. They brushed over the cheating storyline in general so we barely got to see Marina get through it but it's like Jack didn't really feel sorry about it whatsoever, we never really got that confrontation scene between Jack & Carina we all wanted right after it happened. When they finally interacted he was basically just telling her that she shouldn't be threatened by him and like no kidding dude. Nothing about Maya & Jack was romantic and can't even be put in the same conversation as Maya & Carina's relationship anyway.

Then while this whole "friendship" is happening with Carina, he's not really showing much support to Maya with the whole demotion situation, instead he's trying to guilt her into forgiving Sullivan which was just...not it. It wasn't until the episode that Maya finally agreed to him being the donor that he actually "supported" her about her demotion and gave her a pep talk...or whatever that was supposed to be. And apparently that equates to him being the perfect guy to get sperm from to start their family. It's all just a big stupid mess.

I really thought the whole Jack & Inara relationship was finally going to be Jack settling down and getting the family he always wanted and the guy who was always in the middle of relationships was finally going to be gone and he was going to get his happy ending. But then they just...had them leave. And honestly if they didn't have anything else they wanted to do with Jack, they should've just had Jack leave with them because the alternative right now is worse. No one wants to see him in the middle of a wlw relationship and crashing in on their family instead. Give him his own. I don't know why that's so hard to do.

At this point all we can do is just hope next episode is where this whole nightmare ends. Hopefully something happens and Jack can't donate or something messes it up or Carina can't get pregnant. Whatever the case may be. I'm hoping that the last two episodes seeming to focus on her green card situation is a sign that maybe the baby stuff is over after next episode so fingers crossed.

[midnghtcities]

cherry flavoured / chapter 3

Christmas. A time of celebration, joy, and cookie-induced food comas. Hazel Shaw needs this holiday season to be the best one yet, but a neighbour by the name of Harry Styles could completely destroy that ideal.

An enemies-to-lovers Christmas mini-fic about old mistakes, new prospects, and those cherry flavoured conversations you wish could be forgotten. 

Written for the 1DFF discord server fic challenge.

read on wattpad / story page

(A/N: yes i know christmas was almost a month ago but i am terrible at keeping schedules!! anywho, just a short epilogue after this part!)

! TW: brief description of a seizure !

Friday, 25 December

Alcohol the night before Christmas is never a good idea if you want to have a good night sleep. Pair that with a boy who you once upon a time thought you could be in love with admitting to something relatively shocking, then you’re definitely not in for a good night sleep.

My alarm chirped happily at seven and I unhappily dragged myself out of my cocoon of comfort. I don’t think I had roused myself this early on Christmas morning since I was 10 years old, but I wanted today to be perfect. Normally, mum would take on the duties of preparing Christmas Day but I had insisted on her taking as much rest as she needed. It was my turn to take charge. I promptly forced all lingering thoughts about last night to the back of my mind and began to get on with the day. 

Once downstairs I busied myself with arranging our presents under the tree, switching on the Christmas lights, and setting the table for our traditional Christmas breakfast. I grabbed the supplies I had stashed in the cupboard earlier and got to work on our breakfast gingerbread house. 

I knew to many it would seem pretty silly that we indulge on something so sweet for breakfast, but it was our tradition. As a kid, I was always half excited to see the presents under the tree and half excited to see what gingerbread monstrosity my mum had created. Some notable mentions include the 30cm lighthouse she had somehow erected in 2005 and her infamous attempt at the Buckingham Palace in 2011. This year, we would have to do with a simple house though. Time constraints meant I had to use a simple store-bought kit.

It was just past half nine when I put the finishing touches on the gingerbread house and I finally called up to mum, telling her she was permitted to come downstairs to begin our festivities.

“Happy Christmas, mum!”

“Happy Christmas, Hazel.”

I immediately wrapped mum up in a hug once she had fully descended the stairs. Both of us held on a little longer than we normally would.

“This looks fantastic!” Mum beamed.

It was nothing compared to what mum used to do back in the day but I appreciated the sentiment. I pulled mum over to the sofa and we began exchanging gifts, both of us laughing at how we seemingly got all the gifts so perfect for once. After the wrapping paper had been stashed away, I proudly brought out my gingerbread creation. The roof was barely hanging on and I had to make extra icing in order to hold the walls up, but all in all it was a decent effort. Mum had the honours of smashing the whole thing apart and we both dug in, a full pot of tea accompanying our sweet escapade.

It was almost midday. We had packed the remains of the gingerbread house away before we made ourselves sick and we had both donned our garish Christmas jumpers. I had set mum up with some corny Christmas movie that was on Netflix whilst I busied myself with preparing our lunch. A typical roast dinner, but for lunch obviously.

“Are you feeling hungry yet? I think the food is pretty much ready,” I peered into the oven, the golden skin of the chicken confirming my suspicions. I gave the mashed potatoes on the stove another stir, making sure it wasn’t getting gluggy at the bottom.

“Mum?” I called over my shoulder again.

I turned around, finding her lack of response strange.

She was standing rigidly near the dining table, her right hand clasped over her mouth. Her gaze was fixed on the wall.

“Mum…” I felt my heart leap into my throat. I had seen this before. I dropped the wooden spoon I was holding and immediately walked over to her.

In the six steps it took for me to get to her, it all happened. The glass I didn’t even realise she was holding fell from her left hand and shattered. She crumpled and fell, knees collapsing beneath her. That guttural groan I had hoped I would never have to hear again. Eyes rolling. Jaw locked. Shaking. Jerking. She was having a seizure.

I dropped to my knees beside her, rolling her onto her side as best as I could. I checked her airway like the paramedic had shown me last time. It was clear thankfully. With surprisingly steady hands, I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and dialled 999.

It didn’t even feel like it was me speaking. A voice so even and calm couldn’t possibly be coming out of my mouth right now. I relayed the personal details with ease, told the lady on the other end of mum’s condition without a stutter over the big medical words. Who am I?

“Paramedics are on their way to you now. You’re doing a great job, love.”

I blinked. Mum had stopped shaking, but her eyes were still closed.

“They should be right outside love,” the call takers voice interjected. 

I thanked her and hung up, mystified at how they had arrived in seconds. When I looked down at my phone screen I realised that the phone call had been going for more than five minutes. I blinked again. Blue flashing lights slicing through the living room blinds. A firm knock at the door.

I was walking underwater. My legs were not moving fast enough. I held my arms out as though I was about to lose balance. I made it to the door, let the paramedics in. 

Now I was sitting on the sofa. Look at me. Take a breath. Tell me what happened. How long was she out? You did a great job. She’s going to be okay. 

“Hazel?!”

I was pulled out of the water. My senses ignited, the scene before me truly unfolding. Two paramedics, one assessing mum and one crouched before me. I could hear a steady beeping, mum’s heart on the monitor I’m assuming. And Harry. He was standing in the doorway, eyes wide with horror. Anne and Gemma were behind him, with similar looks of panic. They were all wearing those crappy paper Christmas hats.

And it was as if that’s what tipped the scale. It was Christmas day. My mum just had a seizure. I burst into tears.

I launched myself off the sofa and towards Harry. He had already begun moving towards me so he caught me immediately. I sobbed horribly into his jumper, my chest heaving and throat almost instantly becoming raw as I let it out. I cried for Christmas Day being ruined. I cried for the pain my mum has had to endure. I cried for the fact that mum would most likely not be here this time next year. I cried for my mum being diagnosed with glioblastoma at the age of 52.

“You’re okay…” Harry continually whispered into the top of my head, his hand rubbing circles on my back. I clinged to him like he was the only thing to keep me afloat right now.

I wasn’t sure how long we had been embracing, but I eventually calmed down. I carefully pulled my head back from his chest, bringing my arms away from his waist to rub my eyes clear. He kept his arms locked around me though, like he wasn’t sure if I was ready to be let go. I was glad he kept them there.

“You’re bleeding,” he said worriedly.

“Oh…” I looked at my hands and realised he was right. I must’ve leant on the glass when I was beside mum. As soon as I realised the cuts were there, I felt the throb of pain. “I think… I might’ve gotten blood on your jumper…”

“Wha--” Harry spluttered, like he was lost for words. “I-- I do not give a fuck about that! Come here.” He pulled me back over to the sofa.

I took the moment to glance around the room. Anne was talking to the paramedic. Gemma was distributing glasses of water. And then there was Mum, sitting up on one of the dining table chairs. She looked so tired, but despite that, when I met her gaze she sent me a smile. It was the same look she gives me after every medical episode she’s had in the last year. It was her way of saying all was fine, no need to worry. What she didn’t realise was that all I had been for the past year was a pit of worry.

“Is it alright if you check to make sure there’s no glass in the cuts?” Harry’s gruff voice pulled me back in the moment.

“Of course,” the paramedic bobbed down in front of me and asked to see my hands.

Harry immediately took up the space beside me, his arm snaking around my waist once more. I leant into him almost automatically. I didn’t care that it felt so right to be like this with him. I didn’t care that he pressed his lips to the top of my head when the disinfectant the paramedic applied caused me to wince. I especially didn’t care that he kept me entwined with him even after the paramedic had finished tending to the cuts.

“We’re gonna take her upstairs,” the other paramedic addressed me a few minutes later. “Her vitals are good and we’ve given some pain relief for the headache she's sporting. Seeing as this isn’t her first seizure we don’t need to bring her in. But if anything changes in her condition, ring and we’ll come straight back.”

I nodded mutely and despite my protesting heart, I pulled myself up and out of Harry’s arms.

“It’s alright Hazel,” Anne jumped in quickly, “you stay there and I’ll show them where your mum’s room is.”

“No, it’s okay,” I finally found my voice. “You’ve done so much already, I don’t need to spoil your Christmas anymore.”

“Hazel… Don’t say that…”

“Please, go back to your Christmas lunch. I promise we’re okay now.”

I could tell Anne wanted to fight me on this but Gemma grabbed her mum’s hand and began leading her towards the door.

“Thank you…” I said quietly as they passed. Anne pulled me into a hug, whispering that I could call if I needed anything.

Harry stood from the sofa, his expression somewhat unreadable. As suddenly as I had felt at ease with him, it all slipped away and I felt the frostiness of our current relationship seep back in. I had broken down in front of and clutched onto the man that I had promised myself five years early that I would have nothing to do with anymore. How do you move past that?

“I… Uh-- Thank you, as well,” I said lamely.

It looked like he was about to say something in response, but instead he swallowed thickly. Clearly, the moments we had shared earlier have officially passed.

I motioned to the paramedics to assist bringing mum upstairs. I knew the Styles’ would be able to show themselves out. I tried not to wince each time mum took a laborious breath as she came up the stairs. However, I felt a strange lightness when they finally settled her in the bed.

I thanked the paramedics profusely, which they accepted graciously. They promised to close the front door behind them, urging me to stay with mum for a bit to make sure she’s comfortable.

“I’m so sorry Hazel,” mum spoke as soon as they left.

I went and sat beside her. “Please don’t apologise, you can’t control these things.”

“Yes, but I know how much effort you had put into today. You deserve to have a special day.” A soft but sad smile graced her features. I knew she was skirting around the big issue that we always tried to avoid. The impending end that her diagnosis was going to bring. 

“We have lots of time for a special day,” I said quietly, bringing her hands into my own. “And even if we don’t… I am so thankful for the countless ones we’ve already had. Never feel guilty that you’re taking something away from me.”

Mum’s eyes turned glassy with emotion. She tugged on my hands, signalling that she needed a hug. 

“Get some rest,” I spoke after pulling away a few seconds later. “Maybe we can still have some Christmas dinner if I can salvage the chicken.”

She laughed but agreed. I wanted to stay and watch her fall asleep - to be sure - but she assured me that she felt fine and told me to go. I begrudgingly agreed.

 Carefully, I closed her bedroom door and walked gingerly back downstairs. I knew I needed to clean up the mess. And try and rustle up something edible for us.

“Is she alright?”

“Jesus Christ!” My heart almost leapt out of my chest at the unexpected sounding of a voice. Harry was standing in my kitchen, arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed in what looked like concern. “You scared the shit out of me. What are you still doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay… And your mum. Is she?”

I was shocked that Harry hadn’t left. After what had happened earlier I was sure he would’ve wanted to put as much distance between us as possible. “Uh… yeah. She seems to be,” I managed to get out, “she’s just resting at the moment.”

“Good, good,” he said softly. I kept forgetting what it was like to have him talk to me like this, like we were before.

“You cleaned up,” I noticed that the shards of glass had been surreptitiously swept away and the floor wiped clean of any evidence of what had happened. I suddenly felt my throat tighten and that telltale pinch behind my eyes. Harry had literally held me together a mere hour earlier and yet this small act of kindness was sending me over the edge again. I didn’t want Harry to see me like this once more. I quickly walked over to the cupboard to grab a glass and filled it with water from the sink.

“Least I could do,” he replied, seemingly not noticing my change in demeanor. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t save your chicken. Mum made you both a plate though from our leftovers, I put them in the fridge. I can heat it up for you if you’re hungry now…”

He was being so nice. It felt so jarring. One day he was all eye rolls and words filled with venom, and the next he was offering to get me food. With the absence of my earlier heightened emotions, his sudden concern felt like he was trying to portray some act.

��I’m alright for now,” I finally spoke after a few beats of silence. I turned from the sink to face him again. His eyes held that look of pity - poor girl with a sick mum. I hated it.

“Okay then… Do you wanna just watch a movie then? Get your mind off things?”

It was like a switch had flipped in my mind. I had enough of fake niceties and acts of kindness formed out of pity. I slammed my glass down onto the counter, water sloshing out the side. “God, why are you here?” I said sourly.

“What? I told you, to make--”

“To make sure I’m okay, yeah, I heard that. But why do you even care?”

I watched Harry’s gaze harden. “You… Seriously? What is your problem? I’m trying to do the right thing.”

I clenched my hands into fists, my nails pressing deep into the palms of my hands. I was desperately trying to prevent myself from exploding at him. “Why? Cause you feel sorry for me?”

“No, of course not!”

“Then why do the right thing now? After all these years?”

Harry shook his head in disbelief and began to pace across the floor. He ran his hands through his hair. “You know, a thank you would be nice,” he spat after a few moments.

“A thank you? A thank you?” I could feel my face heating up, not in embarrassment but in anger. It was getting harder and harder to keep it together. “You should be thanking me!”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“For helping you to get back with your girlfriend.”

Harry stopped in his tracks and faced me, eyes wide in bewilderment. “Hazel, I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about.” His frustration was palpable as he threw his hands up in the air. “I thought this was about your mum!? Or me apparently helping you too much today.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose and squeezed my eyes shut. I forced myself to take three deep breaths. I reopened my eyes to see Harry staring at me expectantly. 

“It’s about the fact that we have barely spoken to each other for the past five years and now you expect us to sit on the sofa and watch some bloody movie?” I said in a surprisingly even tone.

“It’s not my fault we haven’t spoken in the last five years,” he replied icily.

“Excuse me…”

“I’m sure you remember the last summer before uni?” Harry crossed his arms across his chest, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

“How could I forget,” I said darkly. I could feel that my hands were shaking ever so slightly.

“So you remember that--” he swallowed thickly, “--that last night.”

I nodded mutely. This was the first time we had ever spoken of that night.

“So then you definitely must remember how you moved across the country the next day without saying goodbye to me and have ignored me since.”

My mouth fell open. That is not what happened. My body flushed as I tried to process what Harry was telling me. Memories of that night flooded back, it had been so long since I had allowed myself to think of them. 

I remember the heat - we had been suffering through a heat wave all week. Someone from our form was having a final hurrah before we all went off to uni. Harry and I went together - as we always did - and we drank. A lot. Those god damn cherry vodka sours. As we stumbled home, he kissed me. I’ll never forget the look that clouded his eyes when he pulled away. And next thing I knew we were in his bed, all fervent mouths and quiet moans.

“You slept with me,” I spoke as I finally pulled out of my reverie, “and the very next day run right back into the arms of Lucy, who you told me you had ended things with…”

I watched as Harry’s eyebrows knitted together in what looked like confusion.

“All I was to you was a quick fuck to help sort out your feelings,” I said quietly. It had taken me a long time to accept the truth of Harry’s actions but admitting it outloud was almost harder. A tear suddenly slipped down my face. I hadn’t even felt myself well up.

“So yes,” I continued on when I realised Harry was just going to keep staring at me with a look of dumbfoundedness, “I did leave for London without saying goodbye. But I think I had a pretty good reason to.”

Harry continued to stare at me, his eyes wide. I waited a further few seconds, expectant of a response, but nothing came.

“I think you should leave,” I finally spoke.

He didn’t move.

“Fine then,” I stormed past him not even taking care when my shoulder careened into his own. Just as I was about to climb the stairs, I felt his hand around my wrist. He pulled me to a stop.

“I wasn’t talking to Lucy to get back with her. I was telling her… that she was right.” His voice was raspier than earlier.

I begrudgingly turned to face him, “Right about what?”

“She was the one who actually ended things…”

“What? You told me you did.”

“I know, I didn’t want you to know the real reason why she broke up with me.”

I raised an eyebrow, “And what was the real reason?”

Harry drew in a shuddering breath, “She thought… Well she insisted on the fact that I was actually in love with you.”

It felt like someone had sucked all the air out of lungs. My vision swam for a moment. I placed my left hand on the wall as though my legs were going to give way. “And… You went to tell her that she was right…”

“I thought maybe you felt the same, especially after… But with you leaving so suddenly, it made it pretty clear that I had come to the wrong conclusion.” Harry’s gaze shifted away from my own, he clearly was feeling uncomfortable.

His admission made me view the last five years in a new light. His actions did match those of a scorned lover. In fact, it matched my own.

“You weren’t wrong,” I breathed out. I reached forward, my hand landing on his chest. Even through his jumper I could feel his heart beating erratically. 

He met my gaze once more and all I could see was that look - the one he held all those years ago. 

Without another second of hesitation, our lips crashed together. My hands immediately found their way into Harry’s hair, fingers curling around the tendrils as though to keep us locked in this place for eternity. I felt Harry’s own hands dig into my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. Heart to heart as we should be - something I never thought would happen again. Something that I hadn’t realised I had been longing for all this time.

Against my better judgment, I pulled away. Harry gave a small noise of protest which I smiled at. “Wait…” I said whilst trying to catch my breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so easily when I saw you--”

“Don’t you dare apologise. We were both arses. I should’ve reached out, found out what was wrong.”

I captured his lips with my own again. “Agree to both be sorry then?” I spoke after pulling away.

He laughed softly, “Alright then.”

I rested my head against his chest, glad to have Harry’s arms around me. “I can’t believe we wasted five years…”

“Might’ve been for the better, you would not have enjoyed my long-haired phase in my second last year of uni.”

I looked up at him, both of our eyes crinkled with laughter. “And I suppose you wouldn’t have enjoyed me in my last year where I was determined to hit up every bar in London.”

I watched his expression drop ever so slightly. “Right, London.” He loosened his grip on me, pulling away. “I suppose you’re heading back there tomorrow?”

The reality of real life crashed down like a bucket of water had been tipped over me. How could I forget that Harry and I have crafted full lives in completely different cities.

“It’ll be hard to say goodbye to you knowing how we both feel now,” he said quietly.

I chewed my lip, “You know… I could extend my leave. Maybe until after New Years. I’m sure I could get some special considerations.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

“We’re not fucking this up a second time.”

He grinned and wrapped me in his embrace once more, his lips making quick work to find my own.

“You know,” I pulled away.

His groan cut me off, “Stop bloody doing that.”

I shushed him with a laugh, “I was just going to say that in case my leave doesn’t get approved that we should make the most of the time we have left.” I looked fixedly over to the sofa.

“Fuck, I love the way you think.”

Without a second thought we tumbled over to the sofa, our legs becoming entangled, clothes discarded, and hands roaming - eager to find what had changed in the last five years. And as Harry peppered kisses down my torso and brought forth feelings so intense I hadn’t thought possible - I knew I wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Even if that meant quitting my job or moving halfway across a country. 

Harry and I. This was it.

[twdmusicboxmystery]

FTWD 6x12 - In Dreams

Wow! This episode was Amazing! As I told my fellow theorists, this is one of those episodes, much like TWD 10x18, Find Me, that’s kinda gonna be a holy grail of TD symbolism. So buckle up! There’s a lot here to unpack. 

***As always, spoilers for FTWD 6x12 abound below. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

This episode really was amazing, but also super-sad. While obviously it’s extremely tragic the baby didn’t make it, I will say that I’m glad Grace isn’t leaving the show just yet. It was amazing for the symbolism but also for the masterful storytelling. I got to a point at the end where I was trying to decide which ending they were going for (whether Grace would live or die) but the truth was actually a third outcome I totally didn’t see coming. I write fiction myself and so it’s really hard to take me by surprise, but this episode did it. 

First and foremost, this episode is really great evidence that Leah is a hallucination and/or dream. I know I’ve posted about how we think the bright and somewhat fuzzy colors show that. But let me illustrate. Here’s is a pic from 10x17 of Daryl and Maggie in the woods. Just take note of the greens and browns. This is the filter they generally use in TWD and it’s not hugely saturated with color. That’s on purpose because it’s a post-apocalyptic world and they want it to feel bleak.

Compare that pic to the one below it from Find Me. See the difference?

Well, same thing in this episode about Grace. Here, they tell us flat out and pretty early that it’s not real. So they aren’t trying to trick us like they did in 10x18. So, this is evidence (if not proof in my book) because if the colors look like this and it’s a dream/hallucination for Grace, then it must be for Daryl, too, right?

Okay, but let’s get to specifics. First off, Roy Orbison. We’ve seen/heard references to him SO often, and usually in conjunction with Beth symbolism. Pretty much this entire episode centers around his song, In Dreams.

Not only is there the saturation of the colors, but there is tons of PINK. (Pink Theory).

So Grace wakes up in the middle of the woods, and already, things feel ethereal.

I didn’t even realize it at first, but she’s lying on her back and sees birds flying in circles above her. Just like Beth and Daryl in Inmates. 

A walker attacks her, and both it’s arms end up breaking. We saw that very recently in the Aaron/Father Gabriel episode (10x19). We’re not entirely sure what it means yet, but forearms symbolism has been a thing, in different iterations, for a while. So, that’s one we’re working on understanding.

She meets a young woman named Athena (who we’ve looked into before for various reasons; for one thing, the owl a symbol of Athena, and that’s definitely been a TD symbol in the past).

Athena asks her if she can remember her name, and Grace can’t. This is reminiscent of Dawn asking Beth at Grady if she can remember her name.

When Grace stands up, she pulls her sweater up over her shoulder. Even though this isn’t a romantic situation, it reminded me SO much of when Beth did it in 4x01 after hugging Daryl. And given the bright yellowness of the sweater? Yeah, she’s definitely a Beth proxy. 

In the opening credits, we see Grace, but just for a moment, there’s an overlay of Athena over top of her. We see her walking stick clearly, but then she disappears. I noticed that when I first watched it, and rewound, trying to understand what it was, but of course I didn’t until I watched the episode.

Speaking of Athena’s stick, @wdway did some research because she thought it looked similar to sticks the blind use to guide them. Check this out. 

So, clearly Athena isn’t using it that way, but the theme of being blind is there. I’ll talk more about this later, but we see several walkers get stabbed through one eye, which both suggests blindness and is part of the Sirius/one eye symbolism. The “blind” walking stick is just another way to show this same theme.

Athena takes her back to Morgan’s community, and we quickly learn that it’s been 16 years since the last episode, and Athena is actually Grace’s unborn child. So clearly, this is a dream or vision of some kind.

She had to convince Morgan of who she is, which she eventually does.

So, here’s the thing. I, for one, am very focused on what foreshadows Beth, right? And there is TONS of dialogue in this episode that could potentially be applied to her.

For example, in this scene, Morgan says, “You can’t be here.” Grace: “Why?” And then it just shows her grave stone. Morgan says, “I buried you myself.”

Now, we don’t think Daryl actually buried Beth, but he tried at a white church. (X). However, the idea of Daryl saying something like this, (You can’t be here. You’re dead.) works very well.

Later in the same scene, Grace says, “people don’t get what they wish for.” To which Morgan replies, “Sometimes things happen that you just can’t explain.” It reminded me of something Dwight said back in S4/S5 when he was still looking for Sherry. He says, “impossible shit happens.” He was referring to him finding Sherry again, which he did. This was referring to Morgan seeing Grace again after he thought she’d died. Which he also did (even if it was just in her dream). Although, it definitely gave the impression that maybe she did die for a few minutes in the barn before he resuscitated her. So, you could argue that that aspect of her dream came true.

I had to chuckle when June showed up to check her out. She literally checks her eyes and says she sees no sign of brain injury. Um, yeah. Brain injury CAN show up in the eyes, but just because it doesn’t, doesn’t mean she doesn’t have one. Clearly, they didn’t want to use screen time to show June do an entire, thorough check of Grace, but there was a little bit of medical unreality here. Of course, you could argue that this is Grace’s dream and she’s not a doctor, so she wouldn’t have known better.

But more to the point, they mention a concussion (which Edwards said Beth had), traumatic brain injury (which Beth sustained in Coda) and then combine it with Grace not remembering her name at the beginning, and the unrealities of Carol’s recovery at Grady in S5, and I’d say this is a very on-the-nose replay of Grady. 

We see a really sweet future where Strand and Daniel are friends and Sherry and Dwight are not only back together, but have two kids. A baby girl named Tina (Sherry’s sister who died in TWD S6 and, might I add, was a Beth proxy) and a little boy named John after John Dorie. Very sweet.

But I was thinking while watching it that chances are, none of that will actually happen. And I was thinking about it from an outside-the-story aspect. They’re already talking about people from Fear crossing back over to main TWD. And I don’t necessarily think we’ll see it in S11, but probably in the spinoff. So, I feel like this community Morgan is building will go down at some point.

And that doesn’t mean Dwight and Sherry won’t get back together. I actually think they will. I’m just saying it won’t happen exactly as Grace saw it in her dream. Compare it to Carl’s dream of the future during S8, before he died. Certain aspects of that have or will come true, but he won’t live to see it. So not all of it will. See what I mean?

And then the showrunner kind of confirmed this during the “inside the episode.” He said what Grace saw was just a dream and none of it was actually going to come to pass. ☹

Grace then asks Morgan how he managed to build the community and bring everyone together. He answers that it was Athena. Because they lost Grace, everyone rallied around her child and that’s what kept everyone together.

I actually think we saw this theme somewhat in 5b. After they lost Beth (and Tyreese) everyone sort of rallied around Judith, who was still a baby. I had an idea while watching the beginning of the episode that Grace = Beth and Athena = Judith. Now, Athena doesn’t survive, so I’m not sure how far I can push that. But it’s still interesting to think about.

This walker is an interesting one. We could really go down a rabbit hole iwth it. First off, there’s the shirt that says, “don’t mess with Texas.” As I’ve been talking about Eugene lately, I’m sure you’ll recognize the Texas/New Mexico/western theme.

The missing eye is sirius symbolism. But the glasses make me think of two specific walkers we saw in the past. The woman in the food bank that father Gabriel had a relationship with, 

and also this one that Glenn and Nicholas saw. You know, right before Glenn’s death fake out. 

I won’t go into what they both mean in detail. I’m sure it’s enough to say that both walkers, in both situations, are Beth proxies of one sort or another. 

And I’m sure we should be reading into the fact that it comes on a loop. They see/kill it over and over again as Grace becomes “awake” in her dream.

Of course, Athena has a Walkman and listens to music all the time. I’m sure I don’t have to explain that one. But what really caught my ear was the part where Morgan turned it off in the real world and in the dream, Athena said, “You broke it.” Very similar to the music box being broken in 5x10.

And then Grace says she didn’t break it. Morgan just turned it off. I’m seeing that as a hint that Beth was never dead. Just sleeping. When she finally starts connecting all the dots, Grace has lots of interesting lines that could apply to Beth, or could also apply to the Daryl/Leah situation.

“I’m unconscious.” (Beth)

“It’s just fragments of different memories. Things I’ve thought about. My brain is trying to make sense of it all.” (Daryl/Leah).

At one point, Grace tells Athena she is strong (Beth’s “I am strong,”) and that she’ll bring everyone together. Bring everyone hope.

Seriously, EVERY line of dialogue in this episode jumped out at me in some way.

Let me back up a minute. When we see the car with the “end is the beginning” graffiti on it, the trunk is open, which is significant.

Grace also talks about how she was on the highway with Morgan, and they saw this car, and there was an explosion.

Now, we’ve never talked much about anything like this with Beth because we don’t have tons of evidence for it. But I do remember that spoilers (the same ones that reported seeing her at the white cabin during S5 filming) mentioned a car chase near Terminus, and we never saw that, either. So, I think it’s possible something like this might happen during the missing 17 days. Just speculation on my part, though.

Also a major “wake up” theme here. I mentioned this about a week ago HERE when I did a bunch of mini rewatches. The symbolism of what’s real vs what’s a dream has actually been very prevalent throughout the entire series. I just don’t think TD homed in on it until the Leah episode just recently.

We heard it clear back in ep 1 with Rick. We saw it with Denise just before she died. And we saw Beth’s eyes flutter open at Grady when she “woke up,” so it’s safe to say this can be applied to Beth.

Morgan says repeatedly to Grace that she needs to wake up. Once she realizes she’s unconscious, she repeats it many times as well. “I need to wake up.”

In terms of how this might speak to Leah being a hallucination for Daryl, consider this. Grace is inside her hallucination, and she says things like this:

“I’m unconscious.” “This isn’t real.” “It’s in my head. Fragments of different memories…” Yeah, that’s what we’ve been saying about 10x18 for weeks.

Grace’s hallucination represents the future she hopes will come to pass, but what she actually sees is an amalgamation of people she knows and memories she has. Her brain just fills in the blanks.

By the same token, Leah represents something Daryl wants (not to be alone anymore) but she’s an amalgamation of past experiences and people he knows in real life. (Rick, Carol, and especially Beth.)

Then we have the white horse symbol. This is something we’ve known for a long time. It’s the black/white theme, but we saw a white horse and a “you’re still alive” sign near Morgan in 6x16. Rick also rode a white horse in 9x05, just before he didn’t actually die. So the white horse represents someone living.

Interestingly, the first time she sees the white horse, it’s a picture hanging in the air, apparently from nothing. But it reminds me a lot of the plate glass windows we see hanging from the trees during S8/AOW. 

Grace and Athena rode one to the barn where Grace lived and sort of reunited with Morgan. And yes, it’s a little bit sneaky, because both Athena and Grace were on the horse, and Athena didn’t make it. It was hard to tell which one it would apply to. But that’s exactly how the writers keep us guessing. It’s why we don’t usually know things for sure until we can see them in hind sight.

But in this case, we could have guessed Grace would live because of that horse. More on that in minute.

When Riley shows up in the hallucination, Grace kills him and realizes Athena represents her real baby and can feel the contractions too. She has an interesting line. “I was wrong. You are real. It’s the only thing that makes sense. We’re connected.”

This is the kind of line that jumps out at me as a foreshadow of Beth. For years, we’ve wondered if Daryl will see Beth and think he’s hallucinating. In the wake of the Leah episode, I suspect this more than ever. Especially if at some point, he realizes Leah isn’t real, when he sees Beth, he won’t trust his own eyes and his own mind. So this line could apply to some future storyline.

Of course Grace says things like, “I need to wake up so you can be born.” “I need to wake up so you’re all right.” I was writing so fast, my hand was cramping, lol.

While riding the white horse, they cross a small bridge, which is clearly symbolic. But I also noticed that Grace passed the truck we saw her driving around last season. In the cab is a walker in a radiation suit and a radiation detector (I’m sure there’s a more official name for that, lol).

It gave me a new perspective on the cars. While I’m sure they represent many things, they represent things that have happened in the characters’ pasts. And that works well for everything we’ve always said, because it means when Daryl sees a blond walker in a car, it’s all about his past. And Beth.

There’s a moment when Grace actually seems to die. She stops breathing and appears to be dead, even in the dream.

Couple of things here. 1) I’ve said for years that Beth may have truly, medically died for a short time period. As in, her heart stopped before restarting. That would be a sneaky way to fulfill all the “death” symbolism around her but have her still live/resurrect. This may be evidence of that. 2) Did you see everything run backward? It’s at this part when Grace stops breathing, we see everything run in backward motion for about 30 seconds. Almost as though they need to rewind or reset to get the story back on the right track.

The key. I guess we should talk about the key. Very interesting stuff. As per this episode, the key represents the cost of peace. And they talked about it being the future.

Remember back in S8, there was an episode called “The Key to the Future.” So this is a repeated theme. But we’ve seen keys around Beth for a long time, especially at Grady. It kept showing keys being used to open doors in order to get Rick and Daryl in to do the prisoner exchange.

So, here’s what I’m thinking for this. I think the cost of peace was Beth being shot. We’ve thought for a long time that Beth will save TF in some way. Probably during the CRM war or maybe in some way that has nothing to do with war (i.e. famine or lack of water).

We don’t know how that will play out, yet. But if key = cost of peace, then seeing keys at Grady probably shows that the cost of saving TF down the road is Beth getting shot. It went the way it had to. The way it was always going to. So she could save them.

@frangipanilove likes to say that Fear functions as our key (like the kind you find on a map) to understanding TD symbolism. And this is a good example. They told us what the key symbol stands for and it makes other things we’ve seen and theorized make sense.

In a more literal, plot-related sense, Riley also said, “That key is going to change everything.”

And, I don’t actually think it’s a good thing that they gave it away. I think Grace’s logic in the moment was absolutely sound. The baby was going to be the Savior. And the baby’s strength would supplant whatever advantage that key gave whoever has it.

But the baby, tragically, died. So…they probably need to get that key back.

Also interesting to note that back in S8, the book “A Key to a Future” was about building windmills and water aqueducts. Major water symbols, and once again, water = Beth. 

Speaking of the baby as savior, that’s definitely a theme, as I described above. The people rallied around her in Grace’s dream and she kind of saved everyone just by living.

@wdway pointed out that Grace giving birth in a barn on top of hay gives it a manger feel, which is probably what they were going for.

So, Athena, in the dream, is also something of a proxy for Beth.

When they enter the barn, we see something super interesting. There’s a walker point up at a cage with a dove in it. The walker doesn’t even try to get them when they enter, but that’s because it’s Grace’s dream. But this is SUCH a potent TD symbol. A bird in a cage = imprisonment. And there was an empty bird cage in Beth’s cell in 4x01, as well as near Connie just before she disappeared. 

We also think it was probably a dove (you can hear it cooing). So with the manger motif as she gives birth, from a biblical symbolism standpoint, a dove makes sense. The dove generally represents the Holy Spirit branchy of the Trinity. 

Just a super interesting symbol and, to me, it shows that this is all tied up in Beth symbolism, and that the person they’re foreshadowing here is the person who’s been imprisoned for a long time. The person who had the bird cage in her cell. 

I also think we need to appreciate that Grace had a dream that made her believe one thing was true (that she would die and the baby would live). But in reality, the opposite was true. We’ve come up with considerable evidence that Beth lived. But Daryl believes that she died. And the exact opposite will end up being true. They also tried really hard to convince us in this episode that Grace would die. We saw her accepting it and acting accordingly. Similarly, they’ve tried really hard to convince us that Beth really died. We’ve seen all the characters accept it and act accordingly. 

So, I said above that we saw several walkers get it in the eye, right? One of the sequences I noticed the second or third time through that I watched it, was when, in the dream, Walker Riley has Athena pinned against the wall. He was the first one to say, “I know you thought this would be different, but that was just a dream.” 

So, what I noticed is that he said this, at the exact same time that Grace stopped breathing or “died” and then suddenly revived. And directly after Riley said this, he got a stake through the eye when Morgan showed up. 

So we have this “dream” symbolism, Grace dying and then resurrecting and the eye/Sirius symbolism all within a few seconds of each other. It’s a very compelling and powerful scene. Maybe my favorite of the episode. I’ve watched it like a thousand times, lol. 

And of course there’s that heartbreaking, repeated line, “I [know you] thought this would end differently. But that was just a dream.” First, walker-Riley (super cool walker effect, btw) said it to Athena in the Grace’s dream. Then she said it while holding her deceased baby.

More lines that jumped out at me near the end, and could possibly apply to Beth and Daryl:

“You found us.” (Athena says this to Morgan when he shows up to kill Riley in the dream.)

“He’s here for me.” Grace says this when Morgan shows up and takes her hand.

Grace: “I don’t want to say goodbye, but I have to.” Beth hating goodbyes and not wanting to say them.

When Morgan is trying to revive Grace, he says, “Stay with me. Come back.” (Geez, if Daryl says anything like this during those missing 17 days, it’s gonna be freaking heartbreaking.)

When she wakes up, he says, “Good morning. You’re awake. You’re awake.” So there’s that awake/wake up theme again. But the “good morning” is interesting, too. It may be morning time as this scene is playing out, but we didn’t actually see them go from night to morning. 

We’ve said for years that the sunrise represents Beth and a new beginning, so that “good morning” line is highly symbolic of a new era in which Beth lives.

He also says, “I thought I lost you.” *coughs Daryl*

Grace replies, “I had to come back so Athena could be born.” And again, I really don’t think Beth will be pregnant when she shows up, but baby Athena represents the way in which she’ll save TF. Because Athena was supposed to be the Savior here.

“We don’t have much time,” is repeated two or three times. So that’s a time mention, but also probably foreshadows a future storyline where they’re up against a countdown clock in some way. 

“I had to come back.” Tell me you aren’t thinking of Beth when listening to that line. 

“The key is not the future. She is.” Okay, my fellow theorists and I have discussed that the child who will save the future may well be Judith. In that sense, Judith may be Athena, but that still leaves Grace = Beth. And hearing this line, I just can’t help but replace “she” with Beth. 

When Morgan asks Riley what the key opens, Riley says, “it doesn’t matter.” Also a Beth theme from Grady. 

And finally, after Riley takes it, he says, “Good luck.” Luck Theory. 

Phew. Quite a few of those, right? 

Side note: one of the reasons I really didn’t know if Grace would live or die, as I mentioned above, is that they were really trying to convince us she would, but a lot of what was said could be seen as dialogue foreshadow. 

That could be a problem for some of our theories. But here’s the thing. Going back through it again, the writers were super-sneaky. Most of it could be quantified differently than it came across. For example, Grace says to Morgan, “I don’t THINK I’m going to survive this.” Not that she absolutely won’t. See what they did there? I’m just pointing out.

Finally, I want to mention a few more things the show runner said in his interview at the end. 

First, in talking about Athena, he said they wanted to make her a very strong, together girl, so it was obvious she came from Grace and was trained and raised by Morgan. It just reminded me a lot of what they said about Beth after Still. The whole, “raised by Hershel, trained by Daryl, meet the new Beth Greene.” Athena gave off that vibe for sure, but the showrunner used almost the exact same words to describe her. Definitely side-eyeing that. 

He also talked about how they purposely crafted the “dream” so that it wasn’t only a dream that Grace was a passive participant in. Parts of it had to be real and have real world implications so she was driven by a ticking time bomb. For her, in this episode, it was because her baby was coming and she needed to wake up to give birth.

I just mention it because I can’t help but wonder what implications this will have for the Daryl/Leah situation. 

I think that’s what I have for this episode. But man, what a crazy, tragic, epic, awesome episode! Loved it. (And hey, they owed us a big one after killing off John a few weeks ago. ;D)

[thejosh1980]

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes...

We've sure had a few changes here at The Ocean Shores Resort. It's been a full on month since I last wrote... Through the good, the bad, and the ugly, we've been keeping positive, enjoying the cooler days. Damn summer is hot and long here!!!

The past few months have all been about learning to deal with life's unexpected roadblocks and detours.

There's a lot to tell, but I think the main thing is, at least for me, that I've been a student for the first time the late 1990's. I've spent the past 4 weeks in class, learning, studying, researching, getting to know my classmates and finding all of it challenging, stimulating and exciting.

Studying counseling has been surprisingly awesome for my mental health too. I mean, I have had some really challenging days, especially when it comes to some of the assessments. The first one, well I just about quit the course over it. I really was at my wit's end. An assessment, I suspect, that was created by some office nut job in a government position, who never taught a day in his life and thinks his open ambiguous questions are making it easier for us to answer. I think the whole class suffered sleepless nights that week!! Terrible, but I chipped away at it, persevered and managed to finish it a few days early. Not only that, I learnt a lot about myself and the situation at hand, as you know I'm all about the process.

I learnt that I have to work slowly and meaningfully at these assessments. I can't expect to finish it in one sitting or even in one weekend. Just starting and having a go, finding the easier parts to get done first, using different resources (I love how I can spend the day watching youtube videos and count that as research) and making sure I take time to focus on me with a little bit of self care.

Alex has been super great too, as I delve into this mysterious world of study and being a student. She listens to me talk about the counseling theory of the day, the one we just did in class and how great it is because I can already apply it to friends, family or, more importantly, myself, only to hear me talk about the next theory the next day, like it's gods gift to therapy. She proof reads all my work, debates theories, offers very good suggestions (not only is she super self aware, but she's studied psychology) and somehow, I don't know how she does it, but she knows when I need a break and encourages me to take it. Otherwise I would be at the books day and night.

I've also learnt a lot in class about myself. Part of that comes from comparing my experiences, beliefs and knowledge with my classmates. They are all really great people from a wide variety of backgrounds. But some, push my buttons ever so gently, and I love it. I love the challenge of figuring out why I react to that person that way. What is it I'm feeling and why?

I am thankful this is not an online course!

I've gotten to know some classmates fairly well, and I am surprised at how they openly offer words of appreciation and support. Like “your voice is really calming” and “your vulnerability and openness is a breath of fresh air”. I always thought my voice sounded pretty crap! (Yes I know I sing, but that still doesn't mean I like the sound of my own voice). Also, I never thought I was actually being vulnerable, I always thought that I was just sharing stuff, my stuff, in the hope we can understand each other better. I may have to stop that now....

Nahhhh, just kidding...

The course is something that is right for me, right now. I don't think my mental state would have been ready 2 to 5 years ago, let alone 10 or even 20 years ago!!

Besides the 2 afternoons being ruined by frustration, anger and hopelessness, due to the above mentioned assessment from hell, it's been a good 4 weeks into the year long course. I look forward to each day in class... I even go to the college on my off days to work in the library instead of working from home. I just get more done, even though Mijo misses my lap!

I don't know where the course will take me, I haven't even thought of what job I want to do once I'm a qualified counselor. I hope that during my time as a student, the course will guide me in the direction best suited for me. Learn my weaknesses, follow my strengths and work with both. It's all too overwhelming to think too far ahead. See, I'm learning...

Right here and now... That's all that matters....

During my first week at college, Alex changed jobs. Arriving in Australia and diving head first into real estate sales 1 hour away from home was a real high jump to begin with! The pressure of the job, not to mention the 2 hours a day traveling time, the weekend work and the small size of the business with undefined job roles made it tough! Real tough!

Alex decided to side step into an admin position in a bigger real estate company closer to home with defined job roles, massive support and a very positive outlook. She basically took up her role she had in New York. She's lovin' it! I am too. She's home each night at the same time, doesn't bring much work home with her, other than stories of her awesome day, which I love to hear. Additionally she now has her weekends free to explore and relax too.

She also found a psychiatrist who confirmed her ADHD diagnosis. Alex was originally diagnosed in her early 20's after her turbulent teenage years. She had therapy and medication back then but after a huge burn out in the US, she came back to Germany and let it all lapse. It has been a real struggle for her to cope, and at times, I'll be honest, it has put strain on our marriage. Well, 1 day after her first doc appointment and her meds had kicked in, she's become a new woman. It's been great to get to know this side of her. While things are not 100% perfect, I now have a wife who looks forward to getting up and attacking the day with gusto.

Mum's had a hard run lately too... We all know that I came back to help support her as her eye sight slowly deteriorates. I've been here to read every label, drive her to every appointment and help her work the wonderful world of her laptop, printer and Windows. Alex has been alongside us for the ride too. There's been a few recent health issues that have cropped up. I can't go into detail, but it's fair to say, I can see it was the right time to come home and be here to support Mum.

Mum is strong willed, strong minded and independent, and little of that will change while she can fight against all the odds throwin' at her. It's been a tough couple of weeks, and mum's kept focused on the bigger picture, her health, it's been inspiring.

Mijo has been through the wars.

The little deaf cat recently celebrated his 6 month birthday, but the poor fella has something seriously going on with his health which means we are delaying any big celebrations until his 1st birthday... Besides ringworm (it's not actually a worm, it's a fungal infection), a tooth that won't grow down (it grows directly forward and needs to be surgically removed), no appetite and losing weight, he's doing fine! The poor lethargic fella sleeps all day, which is kind of normal, except I can't remember the last time he had the energy to chase a toy or even run.

I haven't been taking him out much, he needs rest. We did explore the beaches, rivers and parks nearby together, I hope that in a few months I can pick up where we left off. For now he needs rest, calmness and another trip or two the vet.

Through all these ups and downs, we're all actually quite good.

My deep hole from February/March is just a blimp on the computer screen of my life. Studying has raised a few challenges but I am working my way through them, determined to kick that courses ass and learn, learn, learn... One day I hope I can help others through similar struggles as my own.

Alex's struggles with ADHD are progressing in the right direction now and her new job sure was the right call. Mum is showing the world she can take on whatever is thrown at her, and then some.

Alex and I keep going from strength to strength. I'm blessed with her support, respect and love. One classmates already calls her “the awesome wife”, and they've never met!! I guess when I talk about my wife, I reek of pride and love, as it should be.

Thanks for reading,

The Josh

[meloncubedradpops]

Repo! The Corona Opera: Final Countdown

This is the third and final installment of Repo: The Corona Opera. In the first piece, I made the argument that the surreal events we are experiencing in 2020 remind me of the world in the movie Repo! the Genetic Opera. My second essay compared the characteristics of fascism with the same movie. Here we will tie together ideas in both works to highlight a dark path that America is on, based on what we know about Repo!, in the hopes that we can reject the evils of those who are sacrificing our health and safety for their own selfish reasons. 

When I began thinking about this movie through the lenses of COVID-19, I saw uncanny patterns that just years ago seemed like an exaggerated storytelling. Millions of people dying from organ failure. Yeah, but how? 

Then 2020 happened. Oh, that's how. Sure the disease doesn't affect everyone in the same way, but its wrath and potential to harm are tremendous. The death toll in the United States alone is, as of today, is 231,000. At least, that is the death toll we are know so far. It will take time when the dust settles and we can analyze the excess death data to truly know how many of our fellow Americans have died. 

And while our world does not currently emulate those opening comic scenes in Repo, the impact from the sudden loss of life will be felt for a long time. There are a lot of really great themes in Repo: the concept of the family, drug addiction, the impact of corporate monopolies, and let's not forget it's a gothic coming-of-age story too. I am going to highlight three concepts that weave together our current reality with the world of Repo: the parallels of the Trump and Largo family, the Graverobber as the symbolic "other", and organ repossessions is genocide.

As mentioned in my previous entry, I highlighted the ways that Rotti Largo is a fascist. I went into detail supporting the argument that his company GeneCo holds tremendous and unyielding power in the city we see in the movie. And despite his efforts to save humanity from extinction, his assumed heirs and blood-related children are nothing short of entitled mediocrity. I will draw many parallels between President Donald Trump and Rotti Largo throughout the duration of this essay, but let's take a few minutes to talk about their children. Believe it or not, this meme was made by myself and my friend FOUR years ago, almost to the day! 

But unlike 2016, I had no idea that I'd find multiple comparisons to draw upon. And frankly, if we all knew how bad this presidency would be, for both America and the rest of the world, we might have made less jokes from our complacency. I ask the the real question though, which Trump and Rotti offspring are most alike?

Now, I've wanted to do this thought exercise since the inception of my essays. The surface level combinations would look something like, Amber and Ivanka (since they're both women, obvs), Donald Trump JR as Luigi (oldest child), and Eric Trump as Pavi ("you're just his useless brother!"). 

However my boyfriend raised a great point that had me rethink this: Donald Trump Jr is ACTUALLY Amber Sweet. When I took out the gender aspect out of the equation, it made so much more sense. In my next point, I will go into drug addiction in a much more dignified manner. But let's just take a moment here to consider the following. 

We know that Amber Sweet is addicted to two things in life: surgery and pain killing drugs to make surgery bearable. Amber Sweet's character provides an incredible insight to the daily life of the people in Repo. If you subtract the Zydrate Anatomy scene, you would hardly even know that zydrate is devastating lives of the people addicted to it. We hear about zydrate in the graveyard as a commercial and the media spends its first opportunity asking Rotti about zydrate's "use and abuses". After Sweet becomes a no-show in the presser, we quickly learn that she runs a support group for fellow addicts, or at least she is supposed to. 

How does this relate to Trump Jr? Quite simply, many are speculating that Trump Jr abuses cocaine. The most compelling evidence is his speech during the Republican National Convention. Now, obviously we don't have solid evidence that he is indeed consuming and abusing cocaine, and quite frankly if he is, that would not be incredibly surprising or even a huge deal. 

But the conversation doesn't end here. President Donald Trump did not hesitate to bring up former vice president Joe Biden's son Hunter Biden and his battle with addiction during the first Presidential Debate. It was a low jab, especially considering that the United States is going through a crippling opioid crisis, which he even admits is exacerbated by covid-19 and related lockdowns. Both Donald Trump and Rotti Largo exploit their own children in this manner. I mean, Donald Trump helped fucked up the Trump Foundation where his children were held prominent positions, which was caught stealing from a charity intended to help children with cancer! Every time we see Donald Trump Jr on our doom-screens, we get another glimpse into Jr's downward spiral. And with every additional crime that all of president Trump's children become implicated in, the more and more we can see that this family is rotten to the core. 

If Trump Jr is Amber Sweet, then Ivanka is Luigi. In Repo, Luigi can be described as nothing short of a homicidal maniac. I am not saying that Ivanka commits murder, at least not directly, but she does hold a lot of power in the White House. Spend any time learning about the machinations of the White House, particularly in the early days, and you will learn Ivanka competed with Melania for a voice in the administration, and still works for the White House today. Even if you exclude all of the shady business ties, such as the dozens of Chinese patents (including for voting machines!!!) Ivanka has filed, clearly the boundaries of nepotism do not exist for this family. Luigi somehow kills multiple people in the movie and faces no consequences for it. How can this be? Obviously corruption, but that is too simple. If there were multiple checks and balances at one point that would have forced Luigi to face justice for his crimes, they have obviously failed to come to roost in the movie. The obvious common denominator between today and the world of Repo is that those who want power will do anything to obtain and maintain it. Does the public know about every murder committed by Luigi? Does the public know about every crime committed by Ivanka (and also by proxy her husband Jared Kushner, who by the way, failed to pass mandatory security clearances but still has access to the intelligence of our government)? Jared intentionally made it difficult for many of the states hit hardest by covid-19 in the early weeks to acquire the necessary medical supplies because the electorate did not vote for Trump in 2016. That. IS. MURDER. Just as Luigi calls the common citizens in Repo "filthy mice", “Jrvanka” (and the Right at greater) frames the nation as two groups: us and THEM. Luigi is much less calculated, but the comparisons are there. If given the chance, the Trump and Largo family will kill because of their sociopathy, greed, and egos. 

Admittedly I don't have as compelling of a comparison for Eric Trump and Pavi. However I will say that both Pavi and Eric do the bidding for their father's empire, and I would also argue that both feel like they have to compete to get a modicum of attention and love from a paternal figure devoid of basic empathy. And at the end of the day, they do not reject their father's tyranny. And honestly that is enough of a comparison for me. 

Last but not least, I can't ignore the fact that the official Republican Party platform for the 2020 election is loyalty to Trump in the absence of any other political or philosophical idea. A majority of the speakers at the Republican National Convention were members of his family. Their pitch to Americans is “Just Trust Us”. However, a quarter million Americans aren't here to agree or disagree with that statement. With each passing day, more and more Americans are getting sick, to the tune of tens of thousands of cases a day on average currently. The Largo family and GeneCo are not much different. Remember that scene in 21st Century Cure where Shilo and Graverobber are in a mass grave where we can see truck loads of humans being added to the pile of corpses? 

The only real thing separating the corpses from the rest of the city is a poorly constructed brick wall and the years of propaganda that normalizes what I imagine would be a terrible pungent smell of death. 

The entire Trump family came into the first presidential debate without masks. The president was literally sick with a virus that statistically speaking, could kill his opponent; and he was on stage shedding this incredibly contagious virus screaming and shouting, spreading his droplets everywhere. The Trump family failed to show up early enough to be tested for covid before the debate. 

This was not an accident. Jared Kushner bragged to journalist Bob Woodward back in April that Trump was going to take the country "back from scientists". As of this past weekend, we learned that Trump is floating around the idea of firing our nation's leading disease expert Anthony Fauci in a time where our cases, deaths, and hospitalizations from covid-19 are surging. It is almost grotesquely poetic how similar this is to GeneCo. GeneCo is a company in the healthcare industry, but they exploit the worst parts of society, which I will go into very soon. And in its effort to achieve maximum quarterly profits, the ends always justify the means, even if that results in fascism and excess death/suffering. Rotti's body guards kill the doctor who gives him his grim diagnosis. Trump didn't kill the doctors treating him during his recovery with covid, but information we got from the White House doctors were straight up WEIRD. We witnessed a Gentern being killed by Luigi in the Mark It Up Scene for no other reason besides existing in the proximity of him. Trump has spread misinformation about how there's more money to be made when a doctor declares a death as a covid death. I am finding it hard to see the difference. I think I've made my point regarding the parallels of the Trump and Largo family quite clearly, but you may see additional points I bring up as the rest of my essay unfolds. 

Society is complex with more nuance than we give it credit to. The different ways that various groups of people interact with are endlessly interesting, and one of the reasons I love Repo so much is because there's an incredible amount of unpacking that you can do, even in the absence of written dialogue about it. 

If you don't know, Repo started out as a story originally penned as "The Necromerchant's Debt", which gave the Graverobber character a more active role in the world crafted by Darren Smith and Terrace Zdunich. When watching the movie Repo! The Genetic Opera, the Graverobber is certainly a character seen in multiple scenes, but in a lot of ways, his importance is left out. An entire scene was cut from the film, see Needle Through a Bug below if you're interested. 

Regardless the parts that we do see are still greatly impactful. Graverobber is essentially the symbolized "other" living in a world that is greatly stratified by social class, and he's doing what he can to survive. 

Now if you have been living on this planet we call Earth and have ever paid attention ever, you probably have noticed that there are a lot of power structures that influence the resources and opportunities that aid in our development and maintenance of our needs. The access to being able to elevate ourselves above basic survival are typically contingent upon a few things, one namely our ability to draw a paycheck. As I mentioned in my last essay, so many things went wrong to have what would equivalently be either a drug trafficking felony in today's terms or maybe theft, result in permissible extra-judicial murder. And I am not saying that Trump's bragging of the extra-judicial murder of an ANTIFA activist is at all related, but look at the way Trump compares his dissidents with the way GeneCo treats Graverobbers.

 We are experiencing the early stages of economic collapse, millions of people are hungry, soon-to-be evicted, jobless. And yet, the Republicans in power just HAD to rush through a Supreme Court justice. When arguing against lockdowns that would have saved lives, the Right spent countless hours arguing about increase suicide, drug use, poverty, domestic abuse, blah blah blah, you know all the things that were there and as equally as important pre-pandemic? And they did NOTHING to help mitigate this disaster beyond the bill that was passed this spring. The house passed the HEROES Act back in May, and senate majority leader Mitch McConnel declined to take a vote on it. 

Never mind the fact that landlords are still expected to pay the banks their mortgages on their investment properties. Never mind the fact that rent wasn't cancelled. Never mind that the Trump administration sought to prevent any oversight into the first bill passed previously to prosecute fraud. So you know, we can make sure the money went to small business owners, and not instead to the many, many crony ties to the administration who were approved for huge amounts of money. Honestly to think about this is kind of sickening, particularly when you relate it back to Repo and my essay I wrote on fascism.

I could probably talk all day about our failure with the "War on Drugs", but I feel like you can probably see based on the efficacy of its policies that drugs still exist and people are still abusing them. I bring this up because the Graverobber's occupation is essentially a drug dealer. However he sells a counterfeit of zydrate derived from the body of a bug who naturally borrow in a corpse's body, which is and also isn't stealing from the corpse / their estate, but is somehow still "bad" enough that you can legally be killed "on site" if a Gene Cop thinks you're harvesting the blue brain goo. I mean this entire concept makes my brain hurt. 

The Graverobber, as a concept, is a perfect example of the enemy who is simultaneously the biggest and the least threat, and the only way to stop them is to kill them before they can appeal before the jury of their peers or go to prison to pay for their crimes. And I am sure the propaganda that justifies this is beautifully orchestrated. It literally mimics Russian propaganda, AKA the biggest foreign intelligence threat since, I don’t know, the Cold War? I can picture authoritarian stump speeches now: 

"Here the Graverobber who comes in the night, tempting your children. They sell the promise of a good time, but did you know they are raping your daughters for this drug?? They can get your husband hooked on zydrate, and you won't know it's coming until he comes home unrecognizable. These thugs are stealing your grandmother's ring off her corpse, and you will find her half-rotted corpse thrown askew across her tombstone when you go to pay your respects."

And yet Graverobber defends himself:

"Industrialization has crippled the globe (Enjoy GeneCo's day and nighttime formula of Zydrate) Nature failed as technology spread (Ask a gentern if Zydrate is right for you) And from this wake a market erected (Buying Zydrate from an unlicensed source is illegal) An entire city built on top of the dead! And you can finance your bones And your kidneys For every market a submarket grows But best you be punctual With making your payments Lest it be you on the concrete below It's quick! It's clean! It's pure! It could change your life! Rest assured! It's the 21st century cure! And it's my job To steal and rob GRAVES!" 

He then goes into detail about how this is just the cost of doing business with his modern world. How many of our current and future stories by those who will not make a single sentence in our history books will be casted as enemies of the state who were ultimately just trying to make end's meet? You can deport the illegal immigrant but neglect to prosecute the American company who hired them to work here? How is that much different? If the people in Repo need this drug to cope with the deaths of their loved ones and their livelihoods, then what does that say about the soul of their nation? 

If you are still with me at this point, I want to thank you so much. I am going to conclude on a fairly heavy topic, but it is one worth having. Organ repossessions in Repo are genocide and in America, we are currently also committing genocide. 

The whole premise of the film is the justification that those who fail to make payments on their surgeries deserve to have their organs repossessed, because what other reality is there with unrelenting end-stage capitalism? People are losing their whole lives as I type this, through no fault of their own. Most Americans cannot afford a $400 emergency expense pre-covid-19. Millions are unable to pay for basic life expenses, such as rent, healthcare or food. Our president specifically shoved a Supreme Court justice because he wants the American Healthcare Act to be deemed too unconstitutional for public policy. Never mind the 100+ million Americans with pre-existing conditions. Never mind the millions who acquire their healthcare through the ACA marketplace. Never mind the fact that we are in a once-in-a-century PANDEMIC. Never mind that we spend more per capital on healthcare than anywhere else in the world. Never mind that the Right does not have ANY sort of plan to replace something in its place. How could MILLIONS die in an organ failure crises in Repo anyways? We already know that the Trump administration already stopped caring about covid deaths when we learned it was hurting people of color disproportionality than the general population. 1 out of 1000 black Americans have died from covid. Reread that sentence. If you don't believe me, go out and seek those facts for yourself. When we think of genocide we think of Hitler killing thousands of people via gas chambers. But there are SO many other steps that lead to the normalization of that. 

Undesirables, aka the "others", are easy to discard. Is it a surprise to anyone that ICE gynecologists are removing the uteruses of detainees? I almost made my whole essay about that one controversy alone. Genocide is insidious like that. 

"Oh but if she didn't want that hysterectomy, she shouldn't have tried to come to America for a better life, even if that's what my ancestors did." 

Of course not, she's the "other", and you're the law-abiding citizen. You were able to afford the extra $30 a month for the upgraded booby package that gave an otherwise unremarkable kidney transplant a fun twist by including breast implants. The orphan who works the streets because his parents died during the plague who needed a new pancreas because insulin became too expensive is threatening your suburbs. Bonus points if the orphan has a hint of melanin in his skin or if your daughter shows favor towards his antics, completely ignoring the fact that his mommy and daddy were killed by preventable disease. I have no idea if this was intentional or not, but look at the makeup of people who get their organs repossessed in Repo and try not to tell me there's a trend. Yes it could have been the coincidence of casting, but nevertheless it is worth mentioning. We don't see many people of color in this movie, but of the few we see, they get murdered by GeneCo/Wallace. And I don't care how stupid coincidences are because that is exactly what is happening with covid-19. The so-called essential, working class citizens (who are disproportionally POC) are putting their whole life on the line to serve everyone else who works at home. 

The ends justifies the means, kill enough elderly and the federal government won't have to pay out on social security. Force everyone to get back to work and fuck you if you think you deserve money for the hours you weren't allowed to work (oh and by the way we want to make it so you can't sue for covid-19 related liabilities). Oh you lost your job, "try something new", as told by Ivanka Trump earlier this summer. 

My main point is if you let fascism get control, they will normalize genocide and put you in jail for even making the connections of corruption. "Millions of people dead from organ failure, what's adding a few more to the pile in the name of law and order?" "The only good Democrat is a dead Democrat". Once again, I am failing to see the difference. 

Okay I threw a lot at you just now, and the fact you made it to the end is a miracle. If you skip around because you have a squirrel brain like me, I thank you as well. The fact we get out of bed everyday and do anything right now is a miracle and I know attention can be finite. 

I am writing this on the eve of the United States General election after having wanting to write this since June of this year. I am tired. We are ALL Shiloh right now. Our lives have been on pause. "I must be brave", "I'll capture it", "Run back inside". Yeah girl, same! I haven't talked about her much throughout any of my essays, but I have to give credit where credit is due. 

Humans are a resilient creature. We have millions of years of experience on this Earth, and much of our survival has been based on pure dumb luck. But we have blown so many other species out of the water in one way alone, and that is our ability to communicate. 

We don't have to let people who exploit our weaknesses control us. The sociopaths who try and run our society did not historically aid in our survival. They didn't care if we ate the mushroom that killed us or would have protected us when threatened by wildlife, it was our tribe. The Right has successfully hijacked that bond between the self and the tribe so that it can fit the needs of sociopathy and greed. It is not normal for a president to tell a nation that "it is what it is" when over 100k citizens die from a preventable disease. Do not let the sociopaths throw us in that tiny pine box in a mighty small drop in a mighty dark plot, hastening the trip to our epilogue. Because every inch you give, they will take a mile and charge you by the hour. Never forget that.

[pitterpatterpot]

Lion’s Pride: Chapter Twenty-Seven

I figured I’d do something a little different as a treat, (don’t worry I haven’t forgotten about all the other requests, I just wanted to give this a go as a change of pace.)

——

Chapter 27

Modern au

It’s a groggy glue that sticks Aedion’s tongue to his mouth. It feels thick and sluggish, yet downright pleasant compared to the trial of peeling his eyes open to answer his ringing phone. Lysandra’s annoyed kick at his shin and huff helps speed up the process. Especially when she tugs at the doona and cocoons herself at his cold expense.

Propping himself up, Aedion brings his phone to his ear, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hello?” Aedion mutters.

“Boyo-“

“Fenrys, it’s three in the morning,” Aedion groans. “Whatever this is-“

“Gavriel was in a collision,” the older male cuts in, his voice solemn and serious in a way it rarely is. “They have him in intensive care and started working on him as soon as he came in.”

Something lodges in Aedion’s throat. “What hospital?”

He can feel Lysandra come to attention, already swinging her legs off the side of the bed to slip on her Ugg boots, grabbing a jacket to throw over her winter sleepwear.

Winter. Where the roads are slick.

Aedion notes the address Fenrys gives him, barely remembering to hang up before he’s haphazardly throwing on his own clothes. Lysandra slides into the drivers seat, sending him a look that silences his protests before they even come. But it’s almost worse sitting there in the passenger seat with nothing to do but stare persistently at his phone screen. Lysandra’s white knuckles stay stark against the steering wheel, her fingers cinched around the sturdy material.

When they enter the waiting room Fenrys is easy to spot collapsed in a chair, Vaughan surprisingly arguing with a nurse behind the reception.

“Aedion!” Vaughan stands straight, turning away from the glaring receptionist. “They’ll only tell family or emergency contacts what’s going on.”

The receptionist perks, turning to Aedion. “You’re family?”

Blinking, Aedion swallows. “His son.”

Gods above. Saying that out loud.

“What exactly happened?” Aedion grounds out, voice haggard even to his own ears. “Where is he?”

“Your father was in a car accident with these two men,” the receptionist waves a hand towards Fenrys and Vaughan. “They we’re both seated on the left side of the car and suffered minor bruising and concussions. Another vehicle ran a red light and slammed into your fathers side. He sustained lacerations to the chest and neck. They’re working on him now to stop the blood flow and give him a transfusion, as well as stitching up any damage done and checking for spinal injuries. We’re unsure of how long it will take at this time until we see how extensive the damage is.”

It’s Lysandra’s hand on Aedion’s shoulder that holds him up. She leads him over to the waiting area, guiding him down into a chair before returning to the desk to talk in hushed whispers to the nurse. Fenrys comes to sit next to him, an arm shifting to lay across Aedion’s shoulders, Vaughan boxing him in from the other side. It’s strangely comforting to have his fathers friends on either side, a solid support.

“What happened?” Aedion croaks.

“We needed a lift,” Vaughan gently fits in. “He offered to pick us up, he got back in the neighbourhood early.”

Fenrys sends Vaughan an alarmed look, the other male squinting his eyes in clear confusion. Aedion’s hitched inhale of breath draws their attention, the younger male pressing his face further in his hands.

“I turned him away,” Aedion’s voice comes out weak, bordering on brittle. “He was supposed to come to dinner but I called him last minute.”

Fenrys hesitates. “Boyo-“

“Why did you cancel?” Vaughan pushes in, voice firm and steady.

“Vaughan!” Fenrys hisses, tanned face creasing in rage. “Shut up.”

The hollow taps of Lysandra’s Ugg boots against the impeccable flooring fills the silence. Fenrys dutifully hops over a seat so Lysandra can sit next to Aedion, her piercing green eyes prompting his sudden movement, never mind the small wince that follows. She immediately huddles into Aedion’s side, his arm wrapping around her warmly.

“I talked to an administrator,” Lysandra informs them. “He came out of surgery twenty minutes ago, they didn’t find any spinal damage, so that’s a major relief. The upside is that he has a torn neck muscle, along with several cuts and a large one running down his shoulder. Physical-therapy should help with that.”

“That’s fantastic,” Fenrys breathes out a sigh of relief.

Lysandra hesitates. “That was the upside. The downside is the impact his head took. It doesn’t look like there was any internal bleeding, but they’re going to keep monitoring him to make sure it goes down.”

“If it doesn’t?” Aedion asks.

“Then they’ll need to take a closer look and there’s a higher chance of long-term damage,” Lysandra purses her lips. “Aedion, there’s-“

“Mr Ashryver?”

Blinking, they all look up at the approaching doctor.

“Are you two family?” She points to the two of them.

Mouth dry, Aedion nods, words stuck in his throat. Fenrys stands up, quickly approaching the doctor to speak in hushed tones. It’s the way his face falls that causes Aedion’s heart to freeze.

“What?”Aedion asks. “What is it?”

“He’s alright,” Fenrys raises his hands in a calming gesture. “He seems fine. They just have some questions they need to know.”

“Right,” the doctor nods. “I can completely assure you that for now your father is in stable condition. I just need you to give me a bit of information since these two couldn’t. Did your father have any previous medical conditions or concerns?”

“I don’t know,” Aedion stares blankly, hands gripping at his hair. “He was in the military, he may have old injuries from that.”

“Was he a heavy drinker?”

“He never seemed like it?”

“Prescribed medication?”

“I don’t know,” Aedion rasps.

“Insurance?”

“I don’t know!” Aedion throws his hands up. “I- can he use mine?”

Fenrys nods at that and Vaughan quietly shakes his head, mouthing ‘no’ to his partner, who quickly deflates.

“I don’t know how insurance works,” Fenrys mutters.

“It’s alright,” Vaughan mutters, patting his back. “No one does. You just lose money.”

“Your father can’t use your insurance,” the doctor blows out a breath. “Does he have any other close family?”

“Two brothers,” Vaughan supplies at Aedion’s panicked look. “They both live overseas.”

“Right, and are you his only child or are there any others we would need to contact?” Scribbling on her clipboard, she turns back to Aedion.

“No, I-“ Aedion blinks, as if in surprise. “Only me. He only has me.”

As if sensing the change in atmosphere and attitude, the doctor softens slightly. “Well, he’s set up comfortably right now if you would like to sit in with him. Family only at the time, unfortunately.”

Swallowing, Aedion stands, his knees creaking underneath him. “Can my wife come?”

“She can,” the doctor nods. “He’s in a share room at the moment until we can work out his insurance coverage.”

“Is there any way to get him his own room based off mine?” Aedion nearly begs. “Or a way to pay for it up front?”

“I’m afraid not,” the doctor shakes her head, wincing a little herself. “As soon as we pull up his records we should be able to get it all sorted. Would you like to see him?”

Aedion’s voice lurches to a stop. Lysandra’s hand tightens on his arm, Vaughan and Fenrys respectfully keeping their distance. The walk to the room feels nonexistent, all attention diverted thanks to the people rushing past and the usual need to step around a cart. The first person they see when the doctor opens the door to the room is an old lady laying back with an IV in her arm, skin grey and wrinkled like mesh paper folded in on itself. Bile rises in the back of Aedion’s throat at the empty bed across from her.

“He’s in the corner,” Lysandra whispers, nodding towards a section with closed off curtains. “He’s here.”

Aedion breathes out a breath. It’s sucked back in once the curtains are opened, his dinner lurching up to his throat once again. His next sight is the bottom of a bucket in a seperate room, Lysandra shaking herself and rubbing at his back.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor frets, moving around the office for tissues. “I didn’t think it’d be such a shock, he’s cleaned and no major outer damages showing-“

“I’m fine,” Aedion wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, voice thick. “I was in the military as well. Just, seeing him like that-“

The doctor pauses. There’s no need for either him or Lysandra to look up to know the expression on her face.

“I see,” the tissues are gently placed next to him. “You’re more than welcome to wait out in here until you feel up to visiting him, or would rather stay close by for information.”

“Thank you,” Aedion takes the tissues.

The doctor leaves the room and Lysandra presses firmly against his side.

“His neck and shoulder-“

“They stitched him up,” Lysandra cuts in, voice firm despite the cold paleness of her face. “They got to him before the blood loss was fatal.”

“His head,” Aedion runs his hands through his hair. “Through all the gauze and bandages, Lysandra his head-“

“He’s alright for now,” Lysandra reaffirms, squeezing his arm. “We just need to wait and see. Do you want to go back in?”

Aedion rubs at his face. “We should go back to Fenrys and Vaughan.”

It’s a surprise to have something collide against his side the moment he exits the elevator, his arms full of expensive sleepwear and mused blonde hair. It doesn’t stop his eyes from watering once again, burying his nose in that hair to breath in the similar scent of lavender and wild grass.”

“Hi,” Aelin rasps against his shoulder.

Aedion closes his eyes, jaw trembling. Rowan’s hand lands on his shoulder, a warm and solid presence that guides him back to the waiting area. Lorcan raises a hand in a weary wave, his own stoic face unusually rattled, Connall in a similar state where he checks over Fenrys’s minor injuries before turning to give Aedion a strained smile. Elide joins Aelin in his arms, worming in for room and slinging a slender arm around his waist.

“Fenrys filled is in on everything,” Elide gently supplies. “We got hot coffee and sandwiches to eat while we wait.”

Aedion blinks, eyes stickier than he’d like to admit. “You’re all staying?”

“Of course,” Aelin pushes back, eyes fierce. “Until we know for sure that he’s alright.”

~~~

“Mr. Ashryver?”

Jerking, Aedion inhales sharply and groans at the pain in his back. Lysandra mumbles in disagreement from where she leans against him, her torso twisted over the arm of her own plastic chair to reach him. Everyone else is likewise sprawled out across the waiting room, various limbs draped over chairs and couples pressed together.

“Your father is awake,” the doctor says in a hushed tone, leaning in close. “He’s in stable condition and it looks like there’s no visible side effects of his head injury, the swelling has already reduced greatly over the past eight hours since the crash. He’s a fighter.”

Something plucks in Aedion’s chest. “He is.”

“Would you like to see him?”

Gently tipping Lysandra to the side, Aedion stands and follows the doctor. Seeing his father lying there, on the bed with his eyes open and searching, is nothing like seeing him unconscious and shattered. Those golden, tawny eyes land on Aedion before he even has a chance to fully pull aside the curtain, recognition flaring like a heat signal.

“Aedion,” Gavriel rasps.

The younger male stops. Gavriel shifts where he lies, as though trying to prop himself back up again. He grimaced at the flare of pain shooting through the right side of his neck and right shoulder.

“Shit, don’t-“ Aedion grits his teeth, reaching forward to reposition the pillows himself, hands shaking. “You tore your damn neck muscles and have a cut the size of her forearm spanning across the area. If you pop those stitches they won’t redo them.”

Gavriel huffs, the sound jagged and dry. “I’m sure they would if I asked nicely.”

Aedion pauses, eyes flicking to his father. “Don’t finally start making fucking jokes when you’ve nearly been killed by a car.”

Gavriel rests his head back in surprise. “Aedion-“

“Don’t,” Aedion demands, sinking into the seat next to the bed and covering his face with his hands, shoulders trembling. “Just-“

“Aedion,” Gavriel says softly, watching his son shake. “I’m here. Everything is going to be alright, I’m here.”

A sob tears out of Aedion’s throat, more tears following. Gavriel winces, trying to shift closer.

“Come here,” Gavriel pleads, his own voice trembling. “Please, come here.”

Inhaling, Aedion kneels by the side of the bed, next to Gavriel’s left side. The one unharmed arm rises up to rest on Aedion’s head, carding through his hair and down to his cheek. Aedion closes his eyes at the contact.

“I’m sorry,” Aedion whispers.

“Don’t apologies for the actions of someone else,” Gavriel commands, his own voice becoming that of a general. “You didn’t drive the car that hit me.”

Aedion’s breath hitches on a sob, his eyes squeezing shut. “A car hit you-“

“I’m alright, Aedion,” Gavriel promises again, his own eyes misting over. “I’m here. I promise you, I’m here.”

The monitor fills the silence between them, a rhythmic reprieve from where Aedion follows the pulse from Gavriel’s wrist, his father’s hand clasped tightly in his own.

——

Authors note: did you think I would just give you fluff WITHOUT the angst. *EVIL CACKLE* also I’ve stumbled across the Fenrys/Vaughan ship and might do a seperate one shot for that later on.