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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

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Fine Lines - Part 2/4

Part of Coffee & Psychopaths, my Criminal Minds x Supernatural crossover.

Word Count: 3840 for this part.

Warnings: Canon-non-compliant open discussions of mental illness and trauma recovery. Discussions of Sam’s whole demon blood thing and the way he uses his palm injury while trying to keep Lucifer away. Mild peril. Canon compliant with “Zugzwang,” up to a point. Except... I fixed some things?

A/N: The observant reader will notice that the last chapter was initially labeled “Part 1/3.” Oops. It keeps growing. Catch up here.

Thanks to @stunudo @fangirlxwritesx67 and @percywinchester27 for read-throughs and suggestions and support!

As soon as he’s out of Sam’s sight, Spencer half-runs for the front door; he has this sudden irrational fear that someone’s going to lock him in.

Spencer finds the nearest Starbucks and orders… he’s not sure, really; it has whipped cream and chocolate. He just points to the sugary monstrosity on a poster advertising the seasonal special. He almost orders coffee for Sam, too, out of habit, but he catches himself just in time.

He drives back, and he has to sit in the parking lot for a minute before he can make himself go inside. As he heads down the hallway, he hears snatches of screams and sobs — catches glimpses of incoherent rage and all-consuming terror — and he has to remind himself to breathe.

He reminds himself that he’s only a visitor here. He’s allowed to leave whenever he wants.

It could’ve so easily been different.

Part of him is still waiting. He knows, logically, that he’s past the age when schizophrenia reveals itself in most people, but part of him will always be waiting for the day when his brain betrays him.

He wonders, sometimes, what he might see. What will be the trigger? What will it take?

In the most basic way, it wouldn’t take much. It’s a microscopic difference. Serotonin travels certain neural pathways to make happiness. Sent down the wrong path, it makes hallucinations instead.

A deficit of serotonin, on the other hand, is linked to both obsessive-compulsive disorder and romantic love; chemically, the two are startlingly similar. Spencer has put away so many killers who were motivated by what they thought was love. Maybe it had been love, once, until something tipped the scales from happiness into hallucinations, or from love into obsession.

Sanity is a matter of neurotransmitters, really. It’s a chemical high-wire act balanced delicately on a razor’s edge; sometimes there’s no warning, no way of seeing the tilt in one direction or another until equilibrium is lost for good.

Spencer keeps his gaze fixed on his destination, and he walks fast.

* * * * * * * * *

Sam’s not used to airports. He’s not used to planes, and he’s not used to the tug of gravity in his gut as the wheels lift off the tarmac, like something is trying to stop him from leaving. He knows the physics of it, knows how the science works, and he knows he should just trust that, but the wing looks like a tiny flimsy thing to be the only barrier between Sam and all that sky.

It’s a relief to get back on solid ground.

It’s a relief to have a job, too. He refuses to think of it as a hunt, because it’s not like what he does (used to do, he reminds himself) with Dean.

The case is what matters right now. He knows he’ll have an unpleasant conversation waiting for him when he gets back to Texas, but right now, he can’t think about that. He left, even though she wasn’t happy about it, and it’s too late to take it back. He swallows his guilt.

There’s a certain freedom in thinking about someone else, in dedicating himself to something else, and in walking away from his own life to do so — and Sam tries to ignore how good that feels.

He missed the adrenaline and the sense of purpose, the focus. It’s a rush. He’s almost ashamed of how much he missed it.

Maybe it’s selfish, but in the end, his feelings about it don’t matter so long as the end result helps someone else. He’s trying to save a life. He might do some good today. Sam doesn’t need to feel guilty for that.

He calls Spencer as soon as he’s off the plane. Spencer says, without preamble, “It’s her ex’s girlfriend. Bobby. He’s gone too, we just missed them. Diane Turner was just an alias, we hit a dead end, we’re about to head back to Quantico to see if we can figure out who she really is.”

“Okay, how can I help?”

“I don’t — I have no idea,” Spencer says helplessly.

“Never mind,” Sam tells him firmly. “I’ve got this. You go do things your way, I’m going to… try things my way, I guess.”

“Do you mean — actually, no. You know what? I don’t care what you mean.” Spencer pauses. Sam can hear his quick panicky breathing; he sounds like he’s seconds away from hyperventilating. “I don’t care what happens to her, I don’t care whether we do this legally or not — I hope you hurt her.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Sam says quietly.

“I know that’s wrong,” Spencer admits. “But I just… don’t care.”

“I understand.” He understands, and he knows he won’t have any trouble doing what needs to be done, and that’s a part of the job he really didn’t miss. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a gun I can borrow? One of the downsides of air travel, I’m not exactly prepared.”

Spencer hesitates, and when he speaks again, his voice is low, like he’s trying not to be overheard: “Maeve had one. I don’t know where, or — but she got one, when it started. It’ll still be in her loft.”

“Text me the address. Let me know if you find anything.”

“Of course. And — Sam? Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“No, really.” His voice breaks. “I feel so useless right now. In theory, I’m the person best equipped to solve this case, but — I can’t think straight. My brain is — this is the sort of thing I’m good at, and my brain’s letting me down, and I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“Well, yeah. You love her.”

Spencer makes a sharp, choked-off sound of agreement. “All I can think about is her. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her before I even met her.”

Sam’s chest feels too tight for a moment. He remembers — all too well — what that feels like: not only the fear, but loss itself.

“Don’t think about that now,” Sam tells him, even though they both know it’s useless advice.

Love and loss are two sides of the same knife. Either edge can be lethal, and it’s hard to think clearly with a blade to your throat.

But Sam’s familiar with fear, and he knows how to ignore the way steel feels just before it slices. Threats to his body don’t have the same impact they once did. How many times has someone put a knife to his throat or a gun to his temple? It’s just a body; he’s done terrible things with it, and others have used it to do terrible things, too.

He hangs up and walls off the part of him that’s still afraid, because right now, his empathy isn’t helping Spencer; it’s only getting in the way. He’s got a job to do.

* * * * * * * * *

When Spencer comes in, Sam is just staring at the wall, thumb pressed to his palm again. He catches himself, glancing down at his hand with the same self-consciousness Spencer noticed earlier.

“It’s okay,” Spencer tells him. “I get it. If it works, the hand thing — I mean, it’s something.”

“The doctors say self-harm isn’t an appropriate coping mechanism,” Sam says dryly. “They think — well. You know what they think.”

Spencer just scoffs at that.

“What I was saying earlier,” he starts. “About your brain protecting itself, after trauma.”

“Yeah.”

“The thing is — in order to numb that pain, your brain has to dull the positive emotions, too. If you don’t let yourself feel the sort of visceral terror that you have during a flashback, you can’t feel the good things, either. You feel disconnected. You can’t feel pleasure. The limbic system is what allows you to feel fully alive.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Sam says, with a bitter huff of a laugh. He glares at a point over Spencer’s shoulder, but then he refocuses, with what looks like serious effort.

“Does Lucifer have something to say about that?”

Sam nods. “He says you’re a hallucination too.”

* * * * * * * * *

The warehouse district is close to the airport, just a few minutes by cab, although Sam has to reassure the cabbie that it is, in fact, the right address. He can see why, when they pull up at the end of the street; it’s all but deserted. He pulls out his lock picks and lets himself in without any trouble.

The adrenaline is surging, now, and there’s a flicker of anxiety too. It’s been a while. He’s out of practice at this, at creeping silently up unfamiliar stairs and waiting to be attacked. He’s not as strong as he once was. But he makes it upstairs and into the apartment without incident.

The gun is in the nightstand. It’s a small, dainty one that feels strange and delicate in his hand, but the weight is comforting anyway.

Sam looks around the loft, kneeling to check the mess of glass on the floor, but the scattered flecks of dried blood are nowhere near enough to use for a locator spell. He frowns down at the mess before pulling out his phone.

“Hey. You said it was the girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“How much did the guy weigh?”

There’s a pause. “Huh.”

“Was there a garage?”

“No. So —”

“She’d have to be parked right out front.”

“Even so. Maybe this is your sort of thing after all.”

“There wasn’t any sulfur at the scene?”

“No.”

Sam pulls aside the curtains that cover the big loft windows and looks down into the street. There are a couple cars parked on the block. One of them is directly across the street, in front of a building that looks like office space.

“Was there a black Civic on Bobby’s street this morning? Close to the building?”

If it was anybody else, Sam wouldn’t bother asking, but of course Spencer remembers.

“Yes. The license plate was —”

“She’s here. Across the street from Maeve’s.”

Sam hears him yell, “Turn around,” and then the line goes dead.

The lock of the office building is better than the one of Maeve’s building, but not by much. Sam creeps up the stairs silently and listens at each landing.

There are voices coming from one door. They’re barely audible, muffled, like they’re farther back in the building, so he takes the risk of picking the lock. The door opens onto a hallway, cluttered with a few abandoned filing cabinets and office chairs, and Sam has plenty of cover to sneak through the hallway to where the voices come from behind another door.

He shoves one of the rolling office chairs across the hallway, past the door, and the voice stops. He crouches, ready and waiting.

A few seconds later: “Who’s there?”

Careful footsteps creep closer; Sam can see the shadows flicker in the crack under the door. It opens inward, and she doesn’t know what she’s doing, clearly, because she leads with the gun. It’s easy for Sam to grab her wrist from below, push it up as he stands, so that it discharges harmlessly into the ceiling.

It’s pure instinct, muscle memory, and apparently it doesn’t matter that he’s out of practice. His body remembers. His dad taught him well, after all, and some things just stay with you.

Sam’s got Diane pinned and disarmed before she knows what’s happening.

* * * * * * * * *

“Dean told me I have to fight,” Sam says quietly. “I have to… get angry, because that’s better than just feeling numb. He says I have to fight back. But I’m sick of fighting. I’ve been fighting my whole life, and it’s not something I ever wanted to be good at in the first place.”

Sam clenches and unclenches his hands in his lap, staring at them like he’s repulsed. He rubs them on the blanket, trying to wipe off something Spencer can’t see.

“What is it?”

Sam lets out a sharp exhale and puts his hands behind his back, like he can’t look at them any more.

“I’m seeing — they’re bloody.”

“Oh.”

“I know it’s not real,” Sam mutters. “But Lucifer knows exactly how to mess with my head.”

Spencer considers that, from a profiling perspective. “Guilt?”

“That too,” Sam half-laughs.

* * * * * * * * *

By the time Sam hears squealing brakes and shouts from the street, he’s got Diane trussed up in her own chair, duct tape over her mouth, gun trained steadily on her furious face; he sent Bobby and Maeve outside to wait with some water and basic first aid from his backpack.

Maeve had been shaken, pale-faced and red-eyed, but she was a hell of a lot calmer than most people Sam’s seen in her situation.

Once Maeve was released, she walked over to where Diane was safely bound, staring down at her for a second with a fierce, defiant expression. Then she slapped Diane across the face, hard, and smiled as Diane cursed a blue streak. Maeve just put an arm around Bobby’s waist, letting him lean heavily on her, and headed for the door without a backwards glance.

Sam likes her. Spencer could do a whole lot worse.

“Up here,” he shouts, when he hears someone shouting from the stairwell, and Derek comes through the door a few seconds later.

“Man, am I glad to see you,” he sighs, and surprises Sam by going in for a hug. They were still on fist-bump terms when he left.

“How’s Spencer?”

“‘Bout how you’d expect. Shit, I don’t know what I’d’ve done if he — you know? Just… really good to see him smile like that. Kid deserves a win.”

“Yeah. Is the whole team here?”

“Nah, we were all split up. Blake’s trying to patch Bobby up. Hotch is doing the Hotch version of covering his ears and saying ‘la la la I can’t hear the walking pile of nightmare paperwork that’ll happen if the Bureau gets wind of this.’ I think he’s mostly pissed he can’t offer you a job.”

“Me?”

“Hey, man, you managed to catch something an entire team of profilers didn’t. Dude’s built like a brick shithouse. Must’ve taken a miracle for her to get that guy down the stairs unseen, even if she didn’t walk far.”

He looks at Diane speculatively, and Sam smirks at the rage in her eyes.

“About that.” He pulls out the pendant, an old etched coin on a leather string, and holds it out for Derek’s inspection. “Turns out it was my kind of thing. Transformation spell, puts whoever’s wearing it into the body of a toddler.”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Derek says. He wipes a hand over his face, expression torn between surprise and amusement. Then his eyes light up. “Can I — would it work if I did it on myself?”

“I don’t recommend it, that sort of thing doesn’t tend to be pleasant,” Sam says wryly.

“Worth it. Reid and I have this prank war going, I owe him a good surprise.”

Sam laughs in spite of himself and hands it over. “Yeah, okay, as long as you get a picture of his expression.”

“Hell yes,” Derek chuckles. “I’ll take over here, if you want to go say hey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, man, you’ve done more than enough. I got this.”

When Sam walks outside, the first thing he sees is the black SUV directly across the street, and Hotch, leaning against the side of it, pinching the bridge of his nose. Bobby is sitting in the open trunk while an older woman — Dr. Blake, apparently, who he’s heard a lot about — dabs at the cut on his head.

It takes him a second to spot Spencer; he and Maeve are sitting on the stoop of the building to Sam’s right, huddled together, clearly in their own little world. Maeve’s holding one of his hands in both of hers, and Spencer’s other hand is cupped around her jaw as he looks at her, letting tears roll freely down his cheeks as he says something Sam can’t hear.

Spencer’s beaming and crying and taking her in with this expression of complete and total awe, and there’s so much raw emotion on his face that Sam averts his eyes, feeling like he’s intruding on something private.

Sam’s not sure he’s ever seen anyone that happy. He knows he’s never been that happy.

He considers just sneaking away, but they notice him, eventually.

Sam’s a little overwhelmed by the gratitude and the tears and the way Blake hugs him when she introduces herself. Even Hotch gives him a tight-lipped smile along with his firm handshake. The relief on both of their faces is palpable as they sneak glances at Spencer. It’s so strikingly parental, and it makes Sam smile.

Spencer himself doesn’t let go of Maeve’s hand longer than absolutely necessary to give Sam a hug — doesn’t take his eyes off of her the whole time — and Sam doesn’t blame him for not being able to think about anything else. He’s still in shock, and his thanks come out all disjointed and scattered, but Sam gets the picture.

JJ and Rossi arrive a few minutes later in a second SUV. Rossi is already making noises about a celebratory dinner as he kisses Maeve on both cheeks and ruffles Spencer’s hair. Maeve’s parents are on their way, as are the police. This is the part where they celebrate and take care of each other. Sam’s job is done. It’s time for him to leave.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? At least for the night?” JJ asks. “You just got here, that’s a long flight!”

“We owe you a drink or six,” Rossi adds.

“I’m sure,” Sam says firmly. “I just want to get home.”

It’s not something he’s said often in his life. It’s true, too, and Sam smiles when he thinks about that. He has someone waiting for him. It feels good.

It’s Alex who ends up taking him to the airport. Sam can tell she has something to say, but she’s quiet for most of the drive. It’s a comfortable silence. Sam’s exhausted, suddenly, now that the adrenaline is ebbing away.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you,” she says.

“You too.”

“Spencer… reminds me of my son,” she says. Her voice is very open and very warm, and it’s not a tone Sam hears often. “And I care about him very much. Sometimes I think that’s why he doesn’t want to talk to me — any of the team, really — about some things. He doesn’t want us to worry, and I think… he wants us to see him a certain way.”

“He wants you to know he can take care of himself.”

“I would never question that,” Blake says firmly. “He’s more capable of taking care of himself than most people twice his age, not that it’s always a good thing. But I’m glad he has someone he can talk to, without feeling like he needs to hide pieces of himself.”

“He’s lucky to have you,” Sam says.

“Likewise.” Her smile is a little sad. “If my son were alive, I’d want him to have a friend like you.”

Sam’s not sure why his chest feels tight. He knows her openness shouldn’t make him so uncomfortable.

“Thank you,” he says hoarsely.

“I’m going to give you my card, and I want you to call me if you ever need anything. Any time, night or day. My guest room is always open. Understood?”

“I don’t —” Sam starts, flustered. “Thank you, but… why?”

“Spencer was very reluctant, initially, to tell me your full name, and when he did, I understood why,” Alex says lightly. “So I expect most people don’t know who you are. But as far as I’m concerned, you are the person who dropped everything to help someone I care about, today, and that’s the only thing that matters to me.”

They’re almost at the airport. Sam looks out the window, paying close attention to the signs, trying to hide the way he’s blinking rapidly.

They pull up to the curb, and she gets a business card out of her pocket, hands it to him with a smile.

Sam is about to just lift a hand in a wave, but she’s already getting out of the car.

There’s a family saying their goodbyes a few cars away, a mother hugging her teenage son, and when Alex hugs him, Sam wonders what they look like right now — whether an observer might assume that they’re family too.

He’s embarrassed by how hard it is to speak, when she lets go and steps back, but she doesn’t seem to expect him to say anything.

“Any time,” she reminds him, and he’s smiling as he turns to leave.

* * * * * * * * *

“I don’t feel… clean,” Sam says, emotionless and exhausted. “But I don’t know if I ever have. I was destined to be Lucifer’s vessel, apparently. When we found out… I took the hottest shower I could and I scrubbed until my skin was raw. Didn’t help, obviously.”

He gestures around them, and the utter blankness on his face scares Spencer a little bit.

“I’ve had demon blood in me my whole life. They fed it to me a long time before I chose to start drinking it. There has always been something in me that I didn’t understand and didn’t ask for, and — and honestly, I can’t tell the difference any more. I don’t know if there ever was a difference.”

“The difference… between what?”

Sam looks at him like he forgot Spencer was there. “Between me and it. I don’t even know what I’m fighting any more. There all these parts I wish I could scrub away, but I don’t know which is which. I don’t know whether I hate myself, or what people did to me — either way, I wish I could get away, I wish I could scrub it off, and I can’t.”

Spencer thinks of his mom, and the way she screams when she’s scared — she used to hit herself on the head, when it got really bad, as if she had any chance of fighting back.

“Sorry. I try not to make a habit of talking about this.” Sam balls his hands into fists again, and then he rubs his eyes, shakes his head, tries to smile.

“It’s good for you to talk about it,” Spencer manages.

“Doesn’t mean you want to hear it,” Sam tosses back. “Be honest. That’s the sort of thing — it changes the way people look at me.”

Spencer can’t deny that. He’s never pitied Sam before.

“I wish I could help.”

“You can’t,” Sam says matter-of-factly. “So what’s the point?”

* * * * * * * * *

It’s sometime after midnight and before dawn when Sam pulls up in front of their little house, and he’s so exhausted his vision is going blurry.

Amelia left the porch light on for him.

Sam goes in as quietly as he can manage, trying not to disturb her, but she stirs as he slides his arm around her waist and kisses her hair.

“Time’s it?” she grumbles, half-asleep still, curling up against him without opening her eyes.

“Sorry,” he whispers, and she’s snoring again in seconds.

It’s good to be home.

Next part here!

#sam winchester #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #sam winchester fic #criminal minds #supernatural #criminal minds fic #supernatural fic #spn #cm #spn x cm #crossover

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papers4me · 3 years

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Fruits Basket,Se03, Ep7 (part 2)

Toxic kindness (Kureno):

I’ve touched upon this in se02 finale, but kureno’s toxic kindness mirrors the foolish traveler story. The foolish traveler says “ thank you” as he dies. Kureno ignores the knife in the hands of a person whom he saw with his own eyes abuse a number of children repeatedly. Kisa, Isuzu, hatori & yuki bodies testify of being beaten, cut, & bruised. Kyo’s psychological abuse was announced in front of kureno himself before akito summoned him in the beach arc. Akito has strangled her mom & screamed, cried & went manic in front of him. Yet, kureno walks toward her ignoring the knife, hugs her & tells her to press the button of change. Easy, right?

I highly respect the author that Akito didn’t respond positively. I don’t want kureno to be stabbed or want akito to run away & hurt the others. Also, I hate cheap drama. So, I’ll never support dramatic confrontations just for the sake of it. I want a realistic depiction of trauma & mental illness. The person who lived her entire life entitled to be obeyed, feared & having extreme authority, won’t just change cuz a foolish guy told her to.

-The responsibility of Nurturing children:

Akito’s outburst represent the author’s view on the role of nurturing children properly to teach them to be decent human beings. Akito was raised with extreme views neglect & narcissism. You’re special & must be loved (said her dad), Others MUST obey you (said the old maid), No one truly loves you (said her mom). So, her entire life she craved showcasing her power over these unfortunate zodiacs as it stems from the notion that they live for her sake.

Tohru on the other hand was raised with compassion, love & appreciation of other ppl. Tohru being timid, shy or unable to stand for her self are personal struggles that tohru deals with & not related to nurturing , While her trauma might be caused by a parent, it didn’t prevent tohru from being a kind & compassionate person because she was raised & taught abt these things.

The faults of abusing a child might lead to create faulty mentality & social issues. these kids might even grow to implement similar abuse onto others, while all that is understandable, it will never excuse their behavior. A lot cases of real life abusers were once kids who were abused. It is tragic. It explains why they become the horrible person they are today, but it never excuses the harm of others. The victim is not responsible of your screwed upbringing. Kisa, kyo, yuki, & Isuzu have nothing to do with Akira, Ren or akito’s troubles. They are victims themselves but they didn’t go & inflect harm upon others. Yes, they each developed a faulty coping mechanism & showed tendencies of rage, withdrawal, misplaced pain, but they were never a harm towards the society, & their peers.

Akito’s outburst paves the path for her redemption. How it will happen? I duno. Will someone once again holds her cheeks, talks her into bettering herself? I duno. She will atone. I can guess that based on the ED. but Will she be rightfully punished for her crimes? I duno. I hope so. Forgiveness is different from punishment. Thus, a type of punishment should be implemented. Abusers, whether victims or not, or atoned or not, must receive it. It is only fair.

- What will happen with tohru/ kyo’s confession/ confrontation? What is the exit from kyoko’s harsh last words! How can Furuba’s best mom hates kyo! My mind goes crazy!

Perhaps the following will happen:

(a) Kyo will confess the past, tohru forgive, kyo relieved, they kiss or whatever (happy ending). This could happen but while I would be happy for them, I’d hate that kyo’s entire trauma goes away with a simple “ I forgive you/ I love you”. Trauma doesn’t have a button you magically shut down. Kyo must unload his burden first! open his lid, then deal with it. Also, How will kyoko’s last words fit here? Are they just kyo’s imagination? really? it seems so anti-climatic. Imagine living with kyoko’s words for two seasons only for it to be in kyo’s mind! I really need kyoko to have bigger role than simple imagination. She’s either a haunting ghost or a holy perfect mother, rarely a real human character. Also, I need to include Akito. In this happy version, Akito gets stopped by shigure or even yuki! .. possible but too light for all the buildup drama & endless cliffhangers! lol

(b) Kyo will confess the past, tohru won’t forgive, kyo hurts himself as he sees her pain (dark ending). This ending is too dark for both. kyo hearing tohru’s words of un-forgivness will echo what he himself believe in he should be. Then where is hope for him? T_T Tohru not being able to forgive is logical since her mom is her world, but it also further ties tohru to her mom. She’ll be stuck again remembering her mom’s tragic words & last moment. Also, tohru will loose another person she loves even more than her mom. Here Akito will interfere somehow. Perhaps tries to kill tohru, then kyo sacrifices himself saving her. I duno.. too dark for furuba! lol

Ok. I give up. Anything I think gets stopped by kyoko’s words. I need kyo to push tohru away cuz this is the only logical progression for his trauma! I refuse to believe that kyo’s trauma was pushed into the climax & was written to embody furuba’s most mature themes of guilt, self-forgiveness, repeated mistakes, depression & others only to be quickly solved. But, tohru’s own issues were quickly presented & addressed in one short ep so..... augh! I want to hope for more from tohru, but I duno.. her growth has been so inconsistent, & I’m tired of being disappointed.

Next ep could either become furuba’s best ep or the worst ever!!! & this scares me so much.

Side Notes:

Kyo was repeatedly punished for his mistakes & faulty coping mechanism throughout the series, He is yet to be forgiven by someone or forgive himself. But he has been living the punishment of his own trauma.

Why is momiji still speaking German in the dub? I know his curse break is a secret, but He’s still holding on the facade of identifying with a rabbit in his burger, imitating his mom’s accent as he’s still so attached to her. I thought he let go of the past while bravery acknowledging it & moved on. Starting brighter, happier & with more hope. He isn’t still holding on to pain. He is looking forward now. =/

At first, i didnt recognize the room tohru & kyo are eating in! XD. It’s their living room, right? first time seeing it with all doors closed. weird.XD

Seeing Hiro’s curse break further reinforces that there is no logic on its breaking order. It just breaks. that’s all. If there is any reason behind it, then, momoji should be the first. He had always developed outside relationships with others way before tohru & not exclusive to her. Seeing as he has lots of friends playing with him. Also, he has always dealt with his own issues with level headed perspective, never too absorbed in sadness, never too self-focused, he never withdrew or lashed out. He never looked down on kyo, heck! I’ll argue that he even looked up to him!. hiro could've happened earlier too, as he was always protected from trauma & in a loving home, then yuki as he not only opened his lid but told akito in her face that he will forgive her & decided to never be by her side. His curse should have broken right on se02, ep25. You can place anyone afterwards. So, yeah, the curse just breaks, perhaps akito herself has a role as her insecurities increases. duno.

I dont care for the curse itself at all. As far as I’m concerned it is (a) fun gimmick, (b) analogy for abuse & trauma. The later is the core of furuba.

plz let next ep be well-done, well-written & well-direct. plz! T_T

#Fruits Basket #scared paper #Anime Only

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hamliet · 3 years

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I think your blog is one of the best out there. Maybe becuase of this , maybe because of your awesome takes... I find it hard being in the fandom. And I wanted to share this very unpopular opinion. The more it goes on the more I wonder : how did Enji turned into this? Most of all in fandom tends to justify touya because he’s the result of Enji’s abuse. However Enji isn’t a natural born abuser. I’ve read and saw plenty: he has not manias of control. He accept easily his wife to leave him (he wanted to build an house for her and since Shoto’s accident he hadn’t forced himself on her). He wanted an heir, true and he was more neglecting (which is a form of abuse). But many time were found evidences in studies neglecting parents have issues of their own. Which can be found in their original family and / or society (if no mental illnesses are implied).

This made me wonder. I love Japanese culture , novels and society. And one of the most recurrent theme , especially some decades ago, is the high pressure people are exposed. It was and sometimes still is a nichilist model in which you die or fly and sometime you can’t hope to Rise once again when you fail. For example the concept of “you need to go at a go prek to get in a good university and find a good job” is often depict and put to extreme in many media. This inspire even books in which families are up for anything to push their children and they are under great pressure. Since Enji seems a not so bad man per se, has no mental illnesses , the only thing left is his immense obsession that must come from something. And the fact that in society a man must be successful... I think here it is.

The fact he can’t express his feeling correctly for the most of MHA , neither he can’t read them at the point of being perceived “with no compassion at all” comply the stereotype of the father with way too high standard , this can’t come from nothing. It’s not hard unreasonable thinking he was most likely pressured as much when younger , and that broke him at some point (which is a recursive theme in many others novels). This doesn’t justify him, but it might explain why he ended up like this.

But while everyone seems to be able to... forgive dabi , justifying his doings becuase of how he was raised while condamning 100% Enji. However the lingering theme of my hero’s villains is that they aren’t a monster , they’re turned into one; and society played a huge role. I don’t stand for Enji’s actions (who would) but ultimately? If all villains were broken by society at some point (being AFO the only exception for now) why can’t be him too? Broken by a society that demands from heroes to be perfect , to never be weak, even through total desperation? Society even made a joke of all might who gave his life entirely and part of his organs for Japan. Rather than only condemning Enji for his doings , much like is doing with Dabi, the spotlight should be society again.

He did wrong. Terribly wrong. and now everyone is ready to crucify him. But how society taught him better ? How society perceive heroes as humans , how far they can be weak and fails and not be blamed? Like father , like son. Touya is the result of his family , I think it should be considerated Enji was the product of a corrupted society. Which never correct itself , never tries to change... they just discard heroes and villains alike just for not being “perfect”.

Hi! Aw, thank you for your kind words <3

So, I’ll break this down a bit, because I think this discussion needs a lot of nuance. I agree society affected Enji, but I don’t quite think that a victim of society is remotely comparable to being a victim of parental abuse.

To start with, I fundamentally disagree with the notion that abusers are born, and hence don’t buy that Enji is somehow different (or better) because he wasn’t born that way.

To note, I talking specifically about physical/emotional/spiritual domestic abuse, not about sexual abuse (and I don’t wanna talk about that because it’s not relevant here, so no one send me asks about it, thanks).

Abuse is a description of an action and its affects. I’ll quote @linkspooky’s meta on Hawks last week: abuser is not a bad word, it’s not just something that bad people do. It’s an unhealthy relationship dynamic that even good people, even sympathetic people can participate in. It’d be great if we could just do a genetic test and determine if someone is an abuser (actually it wouldn’t be great; it’d be dystopian and terrifying), but that’s not how people work.

However, “abuser” is seen as a bad word, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing (nuance/abuse is horrific and takes such a toll on people that I’m glad it is given serious weight in some respects, although imo it’s overemphasized in fandom places and underemphasized in real life) and I’m not getting into good/bad/pluses/minuses of linguistic connotations here.

Hence, I would actually categorize what Rei did to Shouto as abuse, and I do think the story indicates she was neglectful towards her other children. However, I have never labeled her an “abuser” because of the negative connotation as is clear she is not a repeat offender and Shouto doesn’t even blame her--he blames Enji, and I don’t think that’s an incorrect assessment either. It’s complicated. Abuse victims can be abusers at the same time as they are victims (ask many a kid of an abusive dad what their mom was like; at best if they didn’t intervene it’s usually neglectful and often people go no contact with both parents). People we love and care for can participate in abuse.

Mental illness is also complex in its relationship to abuse. Mentally ill people are far more likely to be victims of abuse than perpetrators, and mental illness doesn’t make someone predisposed to being a bad person. Mental illness does affect how I see Rei’s actions, because she was clearly out of her mind at the moment she burned Shouto’s face; at the same time, mental illness doesn’t erase harm done even if the person can’t be held super culpable. Enji on the other hand was not mentally ill in the same way; he was able to think logically and separate right from wrong even within society (because society clearly still views beating your kids as bad).

It’s actually not really accurate to say that Endeavor didn’t try to control Rei and just let her go--he put her in the institution to keep her away from Shouto, which may have been motivated of course by trying to protect Shouto, but was more likely “trying to protect his masterpiece.” Rei instantly regretted what she had done; Enji didn’t show regret until after Kamino. Also, Shouto himself views it as taking their mother away, not as protecting him. In fact, he sees it as removing his protector and leaving him with just the abusive dad. Plus, Rei’s doctors probably wouldn’t have let him see her. So I absolutely do think Enji is a control freak.

For Enjii, there’s no indication of prior trauma besides just not getting what he wanted. But, as you say, I do think Enji was absolutely a product of society--culturally, though I’m not qualified to comment on that, and within the manga’s own framing of that culture. However, while Enji is a product of society, he is not framed with the child framing that is present around Touya; hence, why he’s not a victim in the same sense. He was an adult when he started doing bad things, capable of reason, as far as we know and there’s no indication this isn’t the case. He was ~20 when Dabi was born, so that means he was looking for a quirk marriage at the very latest by 19. That’s like starting your career as an administrative assistant and being pissed you’re not CEO like, a year after starting! That implies that he had a sense of entitlement at a very young age, entitled to the point of believing kids were not full people but instead extensions of himself to ignore, beat up, and cast aside as he pleased. Every aspect of Enji’s personality screams of toxic masculinity as well.

Also, almost every person who has ever done something wrong (and those who haven’t!) is a product of their environment as well as of their genetics, but I wouldn’t classify everyone as a victim--even though technically I suppose they would be, but the connotations are just not particularly fitting--and I wouldn’t call Enji one. Enji might be a product of society, but his kids are victims of a deliberate choice he had to be a terrible parent. Society sucks, but we don’t choose it and it doesn’t choose us in the same sense a parent chooses to treat their kids a particular way. So, rather than saying Enji’s a victim of society, I think it’s more of society reaping what they’ve sown in terms of their #1 being revealed as a mass abuser; it’s karmic.

So to return to his character and Enji is also a representation of toxic masculinity--that is why for me personally, his crying this chapter actually resonated. Like, I think it was well-framed in that his victims didn’t feel sorry for him and he cried before he knew they were coming, and while I get that people think he has no right to cry (as Rei and Natsuo said!). I see why people interpret that as manipulative, and while I absolutely think it was self-pitying, I also personally see it as human and realistic, and perhaps as a slight chipping away of the toxic masculinity that he embodies. We’ll see. I’m still no fan but that was the first moment in his redemption arc that struck me as sincere.

#Anonymous #abuse tw #endeavor

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lokemikaze · 4 years

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Zuka Rant: Part 2 (2016 Yuki - Don Juan)

okay so. for some reason, the gang in the zuka server decided they wanted to torture me, and introduced me to the 2016 yukigumi don juan. i thought i was prepared, but uhhh apparently not - i didn’t expect this amount of pAIN D: i’m legit gonna spend the next week crying about this

if you don’t already know, don juan is a “womanizer” trash man who brings shame upon his family and doesn’t appreciate the people who love him - until he meets maria, who he for some reason falls head over heels for and ends up dying for. that is not the main focus of this essay, though; my wish is to expand upon my thoughts about don juan’s relation to mental illness. please note that this will touch upon heavy themes, including Bad Coping Mechanisms. i’ll say it again:

TRIGGER WARNING FOR DARK THEMES LIKE alcoholism and self-harm

so. where to start. perhaps i should first make a disclaimer and say that while i am quite Experienced with mental illness, i am by no means an expert, and everything i write here will be my own personal opinions and over-analysis. i also know nothing about the history of this musical etc., i went into this blindly and got punched by the pain

when we first meet juan (played by the amazing daimon, who does such a good job), he is at a bar, surrounded by women. he smiles his gorgeous little smile, and dear gods we’re all taken by this utter trash man. he pushes the ones who love him away in favour of having yet another fling as he empties another bottle. does this seem healthy? nah fam, this is a textbook example of actual self-harm - he may not even realise it himself, but the way he is dealing with his inner struggles is to drown it in alcohol and s*x. it is harmful to both body and mind, yet he uses it to push away the harsh reality and ignore his own emotions

there’s a very touching scene where we get to see young don juan with his mother as she dies. i think this is perhaps where some of his struggles started - he seemed to be struggling slightly even before this, but this is of course a moment that deeply affects him. he throws away his cross necklace, cursing god, and from then we can only imagine the path he took to get to the present. there is a very big chance he hasn’t actually dealt with the grief and trauma from seeing his mother die, and has instead repressed it. for years. and you know what we say about repressing emotions? uhh yeah it’s not good

so as i see it, the juan we meet at the beginning of this musical is a broken man who does not want to acknowledge that he is broken. he shows obvious signs of depression (i.e. pushing people away, losing interest in i.e. the women he desire), and he spends his days (unconsciously?) self-harming. he hides behind a smiling mask, when in reality he is filled with so much anger and grief, and probably - judging by his reactions later - is really out of touch with his emotions, unable to grasp any of them. it is, in fact, Sad Boie Hours

then, the ghost appears. or is it a ghost? i see this as a figment of juan’s mind - perhaps a hallucination? he clearly believes what he’s seeing is real, but nobody else can see what he sees. he is distressed by this (obviously), and reacts violently bc that’s the only way he knows to act. we can see him slowly losing his grip on reality, unable to make out the difference. as someone who has at several points in my life had hallucinations, i can confirm that the way he is acting is indeed very realistic for someone in that situation. not to mention that he’s haunted by guilt and trauma and all those emotions he has pushed down for so long. he loses some of the control he has over himself due to the extreme mental anguish he is going through.

then, he meets maria. it is love at first sight. he sees her, and talks to her, and cannot grasp - what is this feeling? why does it hurt, why does it feel like everything is changing? he finally has something that feels light in his life, something that ‘sparks joy’. maria gives him what no one else have been able to - a positive feeling that shines through the darkness of his struggles. he swears to change for her, to abandon his old ways and start a new and better life, and this is where i need to rant a bit about the costumes

as i said in my previous essay, i am a Costume Nerd, and i was a lot more pleased with the costumes of this production than in 2009 zukabeth (still salty). there aren’t many costume changes, but there doesn’t need to be. juan’s first outfit is such a Vibe, and i absolutely love it - and it’s completely full-on black. only black. however, after he meets maria and pledges to change, his costume also changes. he now has not only really pretty sparkle, but *white*. his all-black has adapted to include touches of white. there are of course multiple meanings that could be read into this, but what does it mean judging from the mental health viewpoint? well, black is often associated with depression and dark thoughts (hence the name *dark* thoughts), while white is associated with purity, joy and hope. my theory is that juan’s previously hopeless existence now has hope, something he wants to live for, someone he loves and cherishes and who keeps him going. there is light at the end of the dark tunnel, so to say.

then, maria’s fiance comes back from war and confronts juan. they agree upon a duel, and juan has what seems to be a panic attack. all of a sudden, the fragile happiness he created with maria is broken, and everything comes flooding back - including his hallucination ghost. in a following scene, he is seen with his (absolutely gay) friend, who tries to convince him to Not Do This. the ghost follows, and we see that juan is once again losing his grip on reality, lashing out and refusing to listen to reason. when the duel scene arrives, juan’s costume is back to the full black. his hope is gone, and he has reverted back into the anguished man he was.

in the beginning of the duel, juan fights mercilessly, wounding his enemy several times, each time getting more and more out of control. he sees this man as the obstacle between himself and the hope he tried to cling on to, and now that he has had a taste of happiness, he wants it back. he aims to kill, and gets angry when his target won’t. stop. getting. up!! this is when the good old hallucination ghost once again appears, telling him that he is only procrastinating the inevitable, that if he wins, he will lose anyway due to the sin of killing another man. you can *see* the moment when juan’s last grip on reality shatters, and from then on out there’s no hope of it ending well. he has given up hope, he has given in to the darkness, he has accepted as a fact that there is no good outcome for him. if he lives on, he will be plagued by his own struggles, unable to find a way out of the deep dark hole his mind has plunged him into. and so, he does the only thing that seems logical, and basically throws himself at his enemy’s blade. he states that this way, maybe he can live on in the love between himself and maria. my belief is that it was a simple way to commit s*icide that didn’t involve him having to actually do it himself. it makes it seem ‘accidental’, and lays the blame on someone else.

and so, don juan dies. a painful, harsh death that absolutely punched my heart and wrenched the sobs from my throat (thanks for enabling my hyper empathy, daimon, well done). he dies with little else than the vague hope that maybe, he can die with love, and that something good will come from it all. a man who got too little time, made too many bad decisions, and had too many issues that he should’ve gotten help with ages ago goddammit. it is questionable if he was fully aware of his decision, being fully lost to his own mind by then, but what is unquestionable is that he suffered a lot. his entire life was filled with suffering, hidden behind a cocky smile.

if you’ve read all the way here, thank you for considering what i had to say. i hope i remembered everything i wanted to say. i have no way to conclude this, other than to say “thanks, i hate this” to the sadists who threw me into this. it is a heartwrenching story that i honestly can relate to a little too much to (no, i am not a murderer nor a womanizer), and i felt don juan’s pain on a deep level. have i read way too much into it all? probably. then again, that’s the beauty of fiction - we all have our own experiences which affect the impression it leaves us with. and to me, takarazuka’s don juan isn’t about a cocky bastard who got too full of himself - it’s about a young man so filled with pain that it led to his demise.

#long post #zuka #takarazuka #don juan #tw: mental health #tw: dark themes #another essay #bc i cannot control myself #this show absolutely ended me #so much pain

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chrmdnbeautiful · 4 years

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Depression... maybe TMI?

With what’s going on in our world right now, I have been seeing a lot of posts about mental illnesses. I know so many people that are affected by some mental illness and I know even more that have no idea what it’s like to be locked in with our demons.

My depression may not look like someone else’s. It might be hard for you to believe that I even suffer from it or anxiety. Believe me, you wouldn’t be the first. Depression affects everyone differently. For some, depression is no big deal, a mood... they might feel down in the dumps because of something that happened, but the feeling usually fades with time. For others it’s an illness that they have to deal with day in and day out, kind of like a persistent cough that may never go away. You can manage it, but not always be cured of it.

Some days it feels like I’m drowning. Like I’m in the middle of the Pacific trying with all my might to make it to the shore. I’m physically a strong swimmer, but sometimes, emotionally, I’m just too tired to keep swimming and I fall beneath the surface. Fighting yourself every day is utterly exhausting. My worst enemy is not some mean girl from high school who tried to ruin my life, it’s me, myself, and I. Logically, I know that devil on my shoulder, that looks and sounds just like me, is just a big, fat liar. But damn if she isn’t a convincing bitch!

There are people in my life that have a hard time believing that I’ve been fighting this illness since I was ten years old. You’re so happy all the time. Kids that age don’t even know what depression is. Ten year olds have no reason to feel hopeless, like they’re better off dead. All I can say is, tell that to any child who has suffered from trauma. There are probably a lot more than you even realize. I’ll give you that I didn’t understand what I was feeling back then, but I was sure as hell feeling it. There are people in my life that choose to look no further than the smile I plaster on my face because I don’t want to feel like a burden and they don’t want to believe I have demons inside me that I can’t defeat. Other people see what’s going on and what to help but don’t know how. I appreciate these people but sometimes they end up making things worse.

Members of my own family choose to ignore the very serious illness I have been fighting for over twenty years, the very same one that has led to three, let me say that again for the people in the back, THREE suicide attempts. They would rather believe that I’m being dramatic, seeking attention rather than have a serious illness.

People try to help when they say things like it will get better or you’ll be alright. I know all of that, but in those moments when the darkness surrounds me, tries to suffocate me, I don’t feel like I will ever make it out. I will not just get over the trauma that I suffered, I will always carry that around like a scar on my heart. It’s going to take a lot of work before I can live my life without the black cloud of my abuse hanging over my head. Something I have only recently started to do willingly. Therapy only works if you want it to, I fought it for so long. The third attempt at taking my life scared me enough to seek help on my own for the first time in my life. It’s helping, but it’s not taking the pain away. I can’t make it go away, no matter how much I may want to. People just don’t seem to understand that sometimes though, I just want to scream it in their faces, but I choose not because I know they are only trying to help. I just wish they realized I can’t just snap my fingers and make my pain and anxiety disappear. That would be a cool trick if I could though, right?

My mom put me in therapy when I was twelve years old because she knew there was more to the never ending rivers of tears and constant tantrums, the separation anxiety, and the unusual social distancing. She knew that I needed more help than she could give me dealing with the big feelings left behind by the abuse I suffered for so long. She was the only one that understood that I was dealing with a weight heavier than anything I’d ever tried to carry on my own, that if we weren’t careful that weight could crush me.

My mom died when I was sixteen though, taking the one person that could see through the smiles and into my dying insides. Since then, no one has been able to help me the same way, no one can get inside the haze of self hatred to help me. My brothers, there are six of them, won’t even acknowledge there is a serious problem. I’ve been on my own in the world and in the darkness since I was sixteen. Sure, there have been people that wanted to help, but no one ever sticks around long enough to get past my walls and my trust issues, it just becomes too much of a chore. And I can’t say that I really blame them. I get tired of the shit in my head too.

People leaving is something I have grown used to. People always leave. Even my abuser chose to leave, not because he got caught or because he suddenly grew a conscience, but because he found someone else to abuse. In his words, someone better than me. I’m almost ashamed that part of me was happy that he stopped hurting me, that he found another little girl to fill my spot. Not that I wanted her to hurt, but I just wanted to stop hurting. Then there is that other part, the part I’m most ashamed of, I was sad and hurt that he chose someone else. It was like I wasn’t good enough because his attention went somewhere else. How screwed up is that?! It has become a trend in my life too, I know I deserve better than the backstabbing friends, the emotionally and sometimes physically abusive men, the lying and cheating bastards who trick me. But what if that’s all I can ever get?

My husband, who I have been with for the last ten years (married nine), doesn’t even know the extent of my deep, dark hole because I have learned my lesson in the past, if he knew too much he would leave too. My brothers choose not to know what’s going on, but even if I did tell them, they would get the lite version. I do not want to be a burden, especially to those I love.

My mom was the glue that held our family together. She was the reason we had relationships with our grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Since she passed, I’ve rarely talked to the extended members of my family. None of them know just how screwed up I am and I am never going to tell them. The stigma of mental illness is like a glaring sign in front of me, don’t tell them because they will look at you differently. There was a lot of drama surrounding my mom’s death too, which didn’t help the fragile state of our relationships. My brothers (the two oldest were hers, the rest belong to my dad) and I talk but it’s never about anything important. Well, except the one time I had to have surgery because I felt they needed to know in case I didn’t wake up. We never go too deep. It’s more like hey, how ya doing? We miss you. How are the kids? The husband? Okay, talk to you in a few months. The few times I have broached the subject with any one of my brothers about my therapy sessions, it’s always why are you going to therapy? You don’t need therapy. Life is not that hard. Our family (both sides of it, my mom’s and my dad’s) doesn’t believe in going to a stranger to fix our problems. Must be that machismo thing. Filipinos and Mexicans both suffer from it. After that though, the conversation gets too uncomfortable. They don’t want to hear the dirty details of my trauma, and I don’t really like telling them about it anyway. First, it’s embarrassing as hell and second, I’m worried about what they might think.

That’s not so much the depression but the anxiety. I worry about everything all the time. I’m worried if I’m doing something wrong. I’m worried if I’m going to say the wrong thing. I’m worried if someone is going to take something I say or do the wrong way and hate me forever. I’m worried if I’ll be about to say the right thing. I’m worried if today is the day that I wake to find that my husband has left because he decided I am too messed up to deal with. I’m worried that my children will see beyond the happy facade I try to put up mostly for their benefit. I’m worried that everyone will see me for the fraud I am, I’m not good enough but I have gotten good at faking it. What happens when Dorothy looks behind the curtain to realize the wizard is just a man? What happens when they figure out that I’ve been lying to them for the last twenty years? I do everything for him, even the simplest tasks seem to fall on my shoulders. I give everything I can to being a good mom, and I feel like I fall short every day. Every time I raise my voice to my thirteen year old daughter who has been my rock since she was born, every time I snap at my ten year old son who has ADHD, I prove that I was not cut out for this mom thing. My kids are missing out on the childhood they deserve, the kind of childhood their peers have because I can’t function like other parents. My anxiety in large groups, hell my anxiety outside of my bed, my safe zone, keeps me from taking them to do fun things or even going to the park. It’s hard to enjoy an outing when I always feel like someone is out to get me, when it’s really my mind trying to beat me down. I try to be a good friend, but my family gets most of me, I have little patience and I’m irritable so much of the time, it doesn’t take much to set me off. I try to be a good sister but there is a lot of resentment there and even more worry about how they are going to react to something I say. I don’t know if they want to talk to me, I don’t know if they only do to appease some familial obligations. I don’t know that they even like me most of the time. I know they love me, we’re family, we share blood, of course they love me. But if we didn’t share DNA would they even talk to me?

Depression and anxiety are very real. They may not look all that bad because those who suffer from them are Emmy-worthy actors. Most days, I’m smiling and look happy, laughing my butt off so much that I’ve been nicknamed Giggles at work, I constantly have people commenting on how often I smile. So much so, they notice when I don’t. On the inside though, I’m exhausted and just want to give up. To be perfectly honest, if it weren’t for my daughter I would have been dead at eighteen. She saved my life. My kids are my everything, they are the only reason I get out of bed every day to fight a new fight with my demons. They are the only reason I go to work every day. They are the only reason I eat dinner every night, because I need to feed them. They are the only reason I get in the shower every night before bed, because I need to set a good example for them. The are the only reason I force myself to act like a functioning human being. Because let’s be serious, that’s all it really is, I’m acting. Day in and day out, I pretend that I wasn’t abused for so much of my childhood, I pretend that the pain of losing the one person I could count on in the world isn’t killing me every day, I pretend that the people who have given up on me didn’t chip away at what was left of my mangled heart, I pretend that I’m happy and that my mind doesn’t constantly wonder if those around me would be better off if I was dead.

My therapists and psychiatrists always look at me funny when I say that. Well, I don’t know how your children could be better off without you in this world. That devil I mentioned earlier? She is damn good at justifying just about anything. I’m screwing them up, I’m not a good mom anyway, they’d be better off with someone else raising them. Now, I do have an angel to match that devil sitting on the opposite shoulder, but she looks and sounds a lot like my mom instead of me. She is much quieter and only speaks up when the devil seems to be winning. Which I have to say hasn’t happened as much as it used to since my babies came into this world. The angel tells me that I have to fight for my kids’ sake, til the bloody fucking end if necessary. I can’t leave them with the memory of my suicide. As shitty a mom as I am, I am still their mother and they love me. If I kill myself, I would hurt them and I refuse to do that if I can help it.

My depression maybe not look like yours, or his, or even hers, but it is a very real thing. I can’t just blink or wiggle my nose and make it all disappear. I’m not just being dramatic or seeking attention. I’m tired of pretending that I’m not broken on the inside because the people around me are uncomfortable with it. I’m sorry but just imagine what it’s like to live in my head for a moment. On the outside, I’m cool, calm even and inside, I’m wondering if I’m good enough, if the person I’m talking to is waiting for me to shut the hell up so they can walk away. I’m wondering if they’re laughing at me, storing up details to retell to others later. I’m wondering if I’m going to look down on my funeral and see them there grieving for me. I wonder all the time if I’m going to die alone because I’m not enough for the people who are supposed to love me. I’m wondering if I should just go kill myself and save the people I love the burden of dealing with me. I carry these thoughts and feelings of inadequacy with me every moment of every day. The devil on my shoulder tells me every day, multiple times a day that I won’t be missed and she is so convincing that I believe her. But then the angel is there to remind me of the babies I brought into this world and how much they still need their mama.

It’s a constant battle in my head, for every demon I slay there are three more to replace it. Constant noise and racing thoughts in my head that I can’t always control. I’m pretty good at keeping that control, but every now and then my grip slips and the proof of this illness is there for everyone to see. Oh, you’re just having a bad day, right? Except, it’s so much more than that. It’s one of those hard days where I’m not strong enough to beat the demons back. It’s like I have a bunch of marbles under a cup, I can keep them in line while I have the cup and everything is good, I can pretend that I’m normal, I can smile and laugh like I’ve never had a problem in my life. But sometimes my demons are stronger than me, they knock the cup from my hands and my marbles go in every direction and I have to figure out how to corral them back under the cup before I completely lose my shit. Sometimes, I’m just so tired of fighting my demons and I was to give in, I want to let them rip me to shreds. Sometimes, I crave the peace I would get from death. Maybe, just maybe, if I’m dead I will finally be able to breathe, to rest.

I’m sorry this was so much. I’m sorry that I shared more than any of you probably wanted to know about me. But if you know someone with depression, reach out to them. Especially at times like these, they may do a good job of hiding it, but I’ll bet their struggling. You don’t have to fix them, just let them know that they’re not alone in this big, scary place. I don’t need anyone to fix me, I don’t need anyone to fight my demons for me, but it’d be nice to have someone to hold my hand through the darkness. Imagine being on a roller coaster and the scariest part of the ride takes you through a dark tunnel. I just need someone to hold my hand through the tunnel. I just want someone there to let me know I’m not alone. Because no matter how many people suffer from the same condition, no matter how many people tell you that they’re there for you if you need them, it doesn’t feel like it. Don’t talk about it, be about it. Don’t just say you’ll be there for someone, show up. Hold their hand, let them cry on your shoulder, feed them junk food, talk about silly things just to get their minds off it, take them for an adventure even if they don’t want to go. Just be there.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading. <3

#depression #depression sucks #mentalhealth #mentally ill #mentalillness #mental issues #mental breakdown #mental health #mentalhealthawareness #youarenotalone #youneedtoknow #bekind #loveyourself #mental health awareness #trauma #therapy #from me to you

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the-energon-hole · 6 years

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may i request a headcanon for the transformers prime bots, Optimus Prime, Bumblebee, Knock Out, and Ratchet for their opinion on a schizophrenic human ally whos coping skill is art? like painting entire walls to escape their madness.

((A/N I’m going to level with you on this one, this was actually really hard for me to write and I had a difficult time wording my sentences without seeming offensive or ignorant.

My Father suffered for a very long time due to Schizophrenia, to which eh rarely ever took his medications, and my Mother told me she prayed every day that my Brother and I would never suffer from it- we both suffer from a multitude of mental illness, but neither of us have experienced Schizophrenia.

I’m sorry if this sounds vague and unfulfilling- I did my best with the knowledge and understanding I have of this particular mental illness, and I hope it is sufficient enough to satisfy this request- I didn’t want to offend anyone and I didn’t want to seem like I was being spiteful on purpose, If there is anything you ant to change or talk to me about, please, let me know.))

Optimus Prime

-He was not a medical professional and could not define and explain all kinds of illnesses that Cybertronians can suffer from, but he knows the bare basics of his species and their ailments so that when you professed to him that you suffer from a disorder known as Schizophrenia, he couldn’t help but try to equate it to one of their own illnesses to try and understand it a little better. He couldn’t think of anything major, and he felt terrible that you were having trouble staying grounded and not listening to the voices that tell you lies while perceiving ghosts and apparitions that were not there. You tried your best to take your medications and attend your therapy, but it felt like everyday was a struggle to push through all of these twisted and anxious feelings you feel. There was only one thing that mostly made you feel better, the one thing that helps you stay grounded and helps you perceive what is real behind all of these twisted and confusing patterns you can perceive others can’t seem to notice. Painting was your solace in a world that felt like it judged you before you ever even got a chance to introduce yourself- and that was something the Prime oud relate to all too well. SO long as it made you happy and you were able to function a little bit better, he says paint away, create big and bold works of art that express how you are feeling- and don’t let anyone stop you from creating.

-Optimus loved watching you pour your heart and being into every single one of your large and upscale murals, it reminded him why he fought so hard to protect your entire species as a whole- each and every human is important and has something of value and worth to offer the world. Your art was oddly comforting with all the warm and inviting colors you use to try and display what you perceive as your reality. You were so quick at painting to, you could finish a big mural on a blank wall so easily that he felt if he blinked he would miss you working on it- you did it so often it was second nature for you to plash and plaster whatever surface in paint that it was mesmerizing seeing it happen first hand. He hops you never stop creating, as it was a great way for you to cope and work out whatever feelings you were experiencing, it was also a great reminder that no matter how broken you think you are- you are important and you have so much to offer to the world.

Bumblebee

-Thought it has never been a chronic problem for him, he too, has experienced a detachment from what reality really was. Fighting in a war that he was basically thrown into without much choice can have a really bad negative impact on one’s ability to function normally. He has been given multiple treatments by Ratchet in order to fix some of his mental problems, but you had to explain that it wasn’t hta teasy in the human mind, and that biology was a very fickle thing that not even humans understood 100% at this point in time. The only treatment for you right no is medication and therapy along with a few coping skills that you partake in to help you remember that not everything you see and hear are really there. He was such a great listener, that anytime you had to question if something was really there, he would tell you without being malicious or judgy about it. You felt safe sharing around Bumblebee almost more so than you do your therapist, but that was dangerous, because you need to be honest with them for them to help you better cope with what you are feeling. Bumblebee was the one to tell you that, as honesty will always be the best way to get better when it came to medical issues, as one cannot heal until they admit they have a problem. He was wise beyond his years it would seem, but again, it must have been because of this war that nearly wiped out his entire species and destroyed his planet.

-Painting was always something that made you cope with your reality as it helped to ground you and help you decipher what was real and what was something your brain decided to cook up to make you question your own sanity. Bumblebee can’t say he can relate to the whole art thing, but he is happy to sit and listen to you talk about the latest creation you have made. He is always shocked at the scale in which you create art, you can fill an entire wall up of different colors and patterns and shapes- it was almost overwhelming for him to process, but if it made you happy to create and share than he would try his hardest to relate and understand what you were telling him. It was also pretty cool actually watching you create such large pieces of artwork all over every surface anyone would let you do- you can fill up so much space with such meaningful images it was You were one of the most important people to him on this planet, and he will do whatever it takes to make you feel loved and normal, even if he doesn’t fully comprehend everything you are telling him.

Ratchet

-When you explained to him in as much detail as you could about what Schizophrenia was, he seemed to absorb the information like a medical sponge and began to inquire about things you didn’t even know about your own mental illness. He asks because it is similar to a medical condition Cybertronians can suffer from called a Processor Loop- here the processor tricks and manipulates all the sense in the frame into reliving the same series of events over and over again. It was a dangerous illness that is brought on by devastating physical trauma or devastating emotional trauma, and it can last for a mere few cycles or the rest of a bot’s existence- as it is not so easily cured or changed. Your illness was similar in that you can take medication and it doesn’t always help subside the problems, you have good days and bad days jus like patience he has had over the cycles. In his spare time he likes to research Schizophrenia, and is fascinated by how the biological human brain works, and he is here for you if you need advice on how to differentiate between your brain’s hallucinations and reality.

-He wasn’t trying to be mean to you or come off as if he doesn’t care, but the fact that you paint to help keep you grounded and clear from all your chemical imbalances in your brain wasn’t that interesting to him. He is impressed with the result of your hard work and dedication to your projects, but really he has a lot of other things going on in his life to just sit and ath you work. He likes to check up on you while you are caught up in whatever to was you were doing to make sure you were still functioning normally and that you weren’t in any kind of apparent danger of harming yourself or others- but that was ok. He doesn’t have to be interested in what you do all the time, it was just nice to know he was there to see your paintings when they were done, it was fun explaining how you got to the conclusion of your work and your thought process behind how you go there to this conclusion. He was a mech of science after all, and if there was one thing he likes hearing about, it was how you got to the solutions you did using your research and development process- aka he liked hearing about how your paint and motor skills got you to this finished product hr eas viewing.

Knockout

-Being a medical doctor of the Cybertronian variety, he can say without any doubt, that you and your human mind was an absolute enigma. You didn’t function the same way that he and his species did, so when you explained it to him how you need medication and talk therapy to sort out your perceptions and sporadic feelings it just baffled him further. Talking thing through seemed like a logical fix, but it also seemed too easy, surely there was another way to fix it? There isn’t? Well that is no good- if talking is what it takes for you to be able to tell what is rea and what is just some messed up vision your brain decides to throw at you than you can bet he will be there to talk to you about what is really going on around you. Humans were so fascinating, and the fact there was stl so much to discover about your minds was also interesting, he would have explored it had he the time to do so- but you know, soldiers to repair and frames t fix, his plate was already full of unethical research that yours was at the bottom of the list. No offense to you, but you seem to be getting along just fine without his input, and he didn’t want to mess up all the progress you made already. Sitting and talking as always an option with him, and he was always willing to listen to what you have to say- even if some of it as a little crazy, but in his mind, a little crazy is always a good sign.

-Knockout was a fan of all things colorful and lively, so anytime you made a big mural dedicated to all the pretty colors and endless patterns you can think of, he was always the first one to praise the beauty you can create with just the simple stroke of you brush. He would call you a genius, he would rave about how it was grand that you were bringing such beautiful creations to a dull and dreary world, but mostly he would tell you that you were doing a good job keeping grounded and releasing all of those mad thoughts into something that everyone could appreciate. Art was a good way for you to share what you were seeing and feeling, and it was a good way to remind yourself that not everything you perceive is real, and it was a good way to get noticed by the bright red mech who wouldn’t seem to get enough of your larger scale wall murals that you spend so much time on that it was nice someone appreciated it. A lot of people write off your art as strange or unnerving, but that was far from what you wanted them to see, s it was nice to know Knockout can see what you were throwing out there without you having to explain it to him or hold his hand through all of the images you plastered on whatever surface you could get your hands on.

(05/03/18)

#Transformers Prime #Optimus Prime #Bumblebee #Ratchet #Knockout #Headcanon

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nongshiina · 6 years

Text

I'M NOT A ROBOT: Human Connections

Synopsis

Kim Min Kyu is a rich young man who is allergic to human beings due to a trauma from his childhood. Due to his condition, he has never dated a girl. However, he experiences the joys of falling in love for the first time when he meets Jo Ji Ah, a girl who claims to be a robot.

Reading only the synopsis does not sound like a special story, in fact I thought that myself and left it in the first chapter, but some time later (after the internet crammed me with ads from the series) I started to see it again from the second chapter and I find it too attractive, but let's talk about the true theme of the series because that's what you're here for, is not it?

This k-drama is not only about the girl pretending to be a robot, but about the effects that it has on Kim Min Kyu, who thanks to different traumatic events develops an allergy to human beings, which despite being a mental illness affects you so much that you could die if you have contact with another human and does not apply your medicine on time, this disease has made it impossible for you to relate and develop your emotions healthily.

Ahji3 (Jo Ji Ah) becomes his connector to the outside world, opening the doors to new experiences and his own emotions that had been repressed, she gives him the security of always being by his side and loving him for being his master, she becomes in his cure to be the first human (in 15 years) to have his affection and closeness, that promise of fidelity and the ability to take care of him is what makes her be considered the "Treasure" of his master, who does what impossible to keep her by his side.

"A relationship is to plant roots in someone's heart"

On the other hand Ji Ah is attracted by the innocence and sincerity of Min Kyu, besides being amazed to know facets of him unknown by others, her bond becomes stronger as soon as she can discover about her past and the circumstances that led to that state, knowing that the cause of his illness was a betrayal she is committed to be the support and confidence that he needs to face their fears, even with the guilt of also being deceived, his desire to be sincere increases together to his affection for him.

We realize that Min Kyu's feelings for Ahji3 are romantic when in his date with Ri El tries to replicate moments previously lived with Ahji3, his unconscious desire that his robot be human leads him to seek to recreate feelings and emotions with his platonic love , he feels disappointed at not being able to feel the same and even better with Ri El, since that's the way it should be, inside his logic it does not make sense to be shaken by a robot and not by a human, it's supposed to be with Ri El should be better .

"It was because of you, it was because you were by my side.I'll buy you new batteries, from the ones that last an eternity, stay with me ... forever ... until I die, now you are my most valuable treasure."

The confusion of Min Kyu reaches its peak with the kiss, it is his first kiss and awakens useless feelings to be directed towards someone who can not feel, at that moment the promise that made it special for him loses all its meaning, because for Min Kyu it does not help that she is with him because she is programmed for it, he begins to question all her words and actions and judging them as what they are supposed to be: lies, since they lack feeling and intention, all this frustrates him, again, it makes him try to get away from her by not being able to hold his heart and contemplate the impossibility of his feelings being reciprocated, he ends up accepting his love and comes to the conclusion that probably nobody else will ever wake up a feeling so deep in he, but it is still useless to love an object so he determines that it is time to restart Ahji3, thus breaking forever and once and for all the link between them.

After a date in which he enjoys his love for Ahji3 for the last time and without remorse, he says goodbye between tears and restarts it, thus erasing every memory. He gives her the necklace inherited from his mother as a symbol of his love (Important detail)

Ji Ah is replaced by the real Ahji3.

Ji Ah also loves him but when he realizes that revealing his true identity could harm him, he decides to walk away, however painful it may be, ignoring his own desire to stay by his side at all costs and breaking the promise.

"There is one more thing I want you to keep in your memory. I love you"

Min Kyu realizes that he made a mistake by restarting the Ahji3 operating system and does everything possible to return his relationship to what it was before, but it seems impossible, and it is, so with a new perspective, having understood that he lost to his treasure and he will never recover it, renounce Ahji3 once and now, forever.

"I was happy every moment I spent with you"

Then Ji Ah and Min Kyu meet and he clings to her, following his old habit of looking for Ahji3 in other people, with the difference that this time he seems to have found her, after spending some time together and talking about his memories with Ahji3 she feels that Ji Ah can recover something of what he lost, he also finds it fascinating to see her eat, tremble from cold and sleep, things she always wanted to see in the robot.

The whole experience of having Min Kyu close again makes Ji Ah's wounds reopen and hurt, it hurts so much that he decides it's time to leave the country, takes his bags and leaves, but not before stopping at the beach to mourn to let off steam to later be discovered by Min Kyu wearing the collar and here things get out of control.

Min Kyu almost died, as he suddenly discovered that the only being in the trust also betrayed him, this made him go into crisis and his illness suddenly worsened.

Ji Ah does the impossible to regain her trust and be forgiven, and now, driven by her love and with nothing to lose she clings to him, for days or even weeks she was rejected, but she gets Min Kyu to agree to have a sincere conversation with her and he manages to understand that even though she lied about her identity and nature, her feelings were real, she forgives and officially becomes a couple.

Then comes the legal battle for Ahji3, but that explains the series better than me.

"Only one person, only one person is enough to keep someone going"

Happy ending ladies and gentlemen.

This K-Drama is about the links, or better let's say "Connections" (You know, to play the word with the theme of robots and that) about how they are created, lost and strengthened until they become indestructible, as people far from the world and reality as Min Kyu can learn to relate and love, it only takes time, trust and affection, it also shows us how the most unexpected people can become "treasures" that shine for their personality, in the end that's what matters, right? Woman or robot equal Min Kyu loves Ji Ah.

Do you notice that every time something happens between them, that light appears? For me it is the physical representation of the moments in which the connection is strengthened, each of those moments is important for the relationship.

Personal valuation: 8/10

It is a beautiful K-Drama, both in history and visually, although it can be fairly predictable does not fall into clichés as the losing protagonist and the CEO who treats it badly, everything is very well justified and leaves no loose ends, only that personally the end did not leave me completely satisfied, it could be much more beautiful in my opinion.

#im not a robot #k drama #kim min kyu #yoo seung ho #jo ji ah #chae soo bin #im not a robot drama #romantic comedy #sci-fi & fantasy #drama #dorama #korean tv #korean actor #korean actress #robot #ceo #love #funny #lights

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gigiree · 7 years

Text

In his defense, in her opinion

Day 1p>Day 2 Day 4: lawyers

“You still need to return my umbrella.” She tells Sasuke simply, wide eyes blinking up at him from behind a ridiculous attack of papers. “Besides that, do you have an appointment?”

Her usually careful voice is clear as glass, syllables rounded and pleasant in what he’s come to associate with forced professionalism.

Still, she looks a little ill at ease behind the welcome desk of Konoha’s small courthouse. Her hands are steepled in front of her, but the tips of her fingers keep pressing together with nervousness.

He doesn’t really want to say much, and no he doesn’t have an appointment, but her presence here is very confusing.

“Aren’t you on duty? Why are you here?” He asks simply, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his dark pants. There is no accusation here, merely curiosity.

She seems to grow more uncomfortable, stiffly shrugging in that nicely ironed white blouse of hers. Her hair is shiny and pulled back into a sleek bun. She looks trapped.

“I’m…taking a break for personal matters…they needed someone for this administrative position, so I took the job.” She says quietly, not entirely sure why she’s answering such an intrusive question. Then she quickly tries to justify herself. “I like it. I get to talk to people.”

He snorts.

“You mean sniveling lawyers and criminals.”

She frowns and shakes her head.

“No. People who need help and who are seeking justice and truth. People who are innocent until proven guilty. Now, how I may help you?” She says that last bit with iron in her tone, polite and cold.

Her cheeks are flushed with her emotion, and he finds himself mildly amused.

“I am a person seeking justice and truth…I wanted access to my court case documents before I go on trial.”

That seems to wake her up, causes her to slump forward in her seat in bright shame. She opens a drawer in her desk and starts making a show of rummaging through it with absolute concentration. Something tells him it’s because she hadn’t been expecting him to be one of the so called criminals she was defending.

“Oh…I see. Umm…do you…have permission from your lawyer? Or the Hokage? Either one works.” She says quietly, finally locating a series of release forms he needs to sign.

“Hokage. I fired my lawyer.” He says blithely, almost cheerfully handing her a neatly folded permission form. She takes a quick look and confirms Kakashi’s lazy signature with a quick flash of her Byakugan.

She nods and tucks it away into a folder, before finally looking up at a Sasuke to hand him his documents. And she finds the dark humor in his eyes disconcerting and sad. She could almost mistake the graceful smirk as a grimace.

“Oh…do you mind my-”

“They were grossly incompetent and I overheard them saying they thought I was guilty.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all she says.

Somehow this doesn’t annoy him as much as before. He’s heard her apologizing to her best friends, in passing. And they seem to wave it off. It’s not entirely pity in her eyes either. It’s genuine sympathy.

So he lets it go. Or rather he would if she wouldn’t keep pursuing the subject at hand.

“Wait…I uh…I have a cousin…she specializes in your kind of case…she might uh…be a better fit?”

Surprise colors his usually shuttered expression before his brows dip again, and slight anger pricks in his chest.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

She nods her head again, fingers twisting around each other until he feels they’ll stay in everlasting knots…he almost wishes that would happen…let her try and use her gentle fist ever again. Would serve her right for prying.

“I get that. I understand but…representing yourself in court…doesn’t usually turn out all that well. There’s loopholes and things you should and shouldn’t say and-”

He cuts her off.

“I don’t care. I did everything they’ve accused me of…I’ve threatened the village, killed a high ranking official, attacked the Kage, collided with a rogue ninja, attempted murder of the village’s darling child…I’ve done all of it.” He lists it all off so easily, so non-chalantly, that it sends shivers running down her spine until she tears her gaze away. “I have no use for people who can’t see why I did what I did.”

She looks saddened…tired to hear it all. But she persists.

“I…can see why…I can see it, and I promise…” She raises her head and her knuckles turn white as they grip the desk in front of her. “I promise I’m not the only who does…you need to have a fair trial.”

Her wavering voice grows stronger, and he finds himself vaguely impressed.

“And I think you should place a counter suit. The village hasn’t made reparations for what it’s done to you and your family. You’re not the only they’ve hurt…please, if anything talk to Sai-San…you’ll learn…that you’re not entirely alone.”

He stares at her in disbelief, his mouth actually open in shock and his dark brows raised high. She fidgets again, and busies herself with organizing the already neat stack of papers on her desk.

He can argue back that Sai hadn’t his whole family killed…can say that even if Sai lost much because of Danzo, he never attempted to kill Naruto or the Kage. Never turned on the village to pursue power…but for some reason…he’d like to let her dream on a little. Let her meander in her world of naïveté.

If it hurts her in the end, that’s on her. He wants to see her broken, just a little, when she realizes how cruel the truth can be…

But then she offers him a small smile and says-

“Even if he didn’t do all the things you said you did, he didn’t redeem himself. Didn’t destroy a mortal enemy and unlock us all from the dreams that Kaguya had put us in.”

Her eyes are earnest, shining with swirling hints of silver under the wan fluorescent lights…he would never compare her to Kaguya…he can’t reconcile the fact that this small soft girl is a descendant of that cold, alien princess…but something in her confidence makes him more scared of Hinata than he ever was of Kaguya.

He argues back.

“Sai didn’t have to redeem himself…he didn’t do anything wrong.”

She is adamant and he is fearful that she may be able to pierce into his thoughts with those scary eyes of hers. Too bright, too hopeful, too earnest.

“You’re not Sai-San. You did those things and they were choices you made…but saving us all was also a choice and you’re trying to make up for it now. That’s what matters.”

He doesn’t bother answering that, merely turns on his heel, documents in hand and heart hammering in his chest.

He ignores the apologies she whispers to him, slamming the door of the courthouse on his way out. There’s some sort of vindication for him when he gets home and sees her umbrella leaning against the side of his door.

She’s never getting that back, he decides. —

He goes through the trial, and much to his consternation, he is ordered to accept his new assigned lawyer.

Hiromi Hyuuga, a strongly speaking woman of forty who walks in her suit and skirt ensembles with authority. He wonders if that’s what Hinata had been aiming for when she’d worn the starched white blouse for her job.

To his ever increasing chagrin, Hiromi argues his case well. He tries being smart with her, making snide comments and threatening to plead guilty to all accounts.

She has about as much backbone as Naruto, and that’s made evident by her careful words and threats punctuated by a flashing Byakugan.

After a harrowing few weeks, and avoiding the front desk almost entirely, he is found guilty for somethings and is found innocent for others. The general consensus is that they wouldn’t be here had it not been for his intervention and that he deserves a pardon.

Kakashi-bastard was all too happy to give it, on the condition that Sasuke help out with community service for half his time.

She had been right…she wasn’t the only one could see why he did the things he had done. Although the reasoning behind the light sentence causes him a bit of chagrin, he has a hard time arguing against the “mentally unstable due to past trauma” aspect.

He just feels so tired. Exhausted and worn hollow, and somehow, he finds himself feeling heavier even though the case is over and he’s a free man…sort of.

He mulls over his thoughts, unable to stop her earlier advice from leaking in and making sense. He wants to ask her a few more questions, perhaps begin filing that counter suit she’d suggested.

But when he gets to the front desk, he is greeted by an older lady with a sharp smile and blue eyes peering up from behind silver lenses.

She looks at ease here and when she asks him what he wants, he blurts out stupidly and uncharacteristically-

“The girl that was here before…where…” he trails off, realizing with horror just how much expectation he’d been placing on seeing her again. How much her words had dug deep and made logic out of dark thoughts.

The lady chuckles and says very straightforward-

“Dear Hinata has decided to take up a teaching post in Kusagakure. It suits her…she’s such a sweetheart to everyone and I’m sure she’ll be happy there.”

Somehow he feels even more exhausted now as he trudges away from the courthouse. Irritation sparks in his throat and he’s unsure why, but he really wants to hit something.

“Good riddance.” He says out loud, not quite sure if this is true or not.

#sasuhina month #sasuhina

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knightofbalance-13 · 7 years

Text

Response to Invetsed-In-Your-Future‘s post

http://invested-in-your-future.tumblr.com/post/156801674540/rwby-v4-finale-hopespredictions

“ Dealing with ignorrant people who neve rpresent arguments is always hard. “ Ad Homien attack calling me ignorant for one stupid reason then proceeds to reenact said stupid reason.

1. “ Story is named RWBY. Ruby is the protagonist. RWBY is Ruby’s story from childhood to adulthood.” RWBY: Ruby, Weiss, Blake, Yang. So it’s not just about Ruby and further exemplified by the fact that Pyrrha had a major focus in the last Volume, showing that other characters besides the main four would get focus. 2+3. “Nice way to address the points i made…not” I don’t hear a no and considering your attacks on the writers and Jaune I take that as acceptance on your part. And you get away with that and I don’t...because? 5. “Soooo, its a given that nothing happens int he finale except for a fight? Especially in a volume where already nothing happened.”

Does nothing to rebuttle my argument and is just an attack on the writers disguised as a rebuttle. A;so completely disproven by my number 7 argument in my original post.

1. “ She did not “get development in 10. We got same implication of her being not okay and then it segued into Jaune Peptalk. “ And that disproves my point about her having development from not showing trauma because...? And by that same logic, Jaune never got any development because that describes his entire interactions with Pyrrha seeing as they almost always gave pep talks to each other.

Also didn’t address the second half of my point: “ IT’S NOT HER MOMENT. It’s Ren and Nora’s. You bitch about Jaune hogging the spotlight and yet you want Ruby to do the exact same thing. “ So by the rules of debate, you coincide this point.

2. “ WE NEVER SAW HER OVERCOME HER PTSD. We never saw her issues being explored. If anything show literally threw her back on the same self-destructive path wasting a chance to explore her as a character. “

So? Does the characters stop existing when we don’t see them? No, they don’t. SO they can develop off screen as well. So that doesn’t work. It also doesn’t work because I addressed that as well in my original post: “- her PTSD issues took nine months in a safe place to overcome-” SO if she isn’t in a a safe place then she could devolve again.

And how did they throw her back on that path when we see in episode 9 Yang is learning to fight smarter, not harder which has been a problem for her? How did they do that when she is shown to be moving away from that path? Just as well, it doesn’t rebuttle my argument there is like eight more volumes left so Yang still has more time to grow or her mommy issues, temper issues and fighting issues.

3. “ From now On Ill most likely just start linking my Bingo whenever someone makes a homophobic “argument”. “

My original point:

“ . Okay…Blake directly pointed her friends as a source that she was running away from and Yang’s struggle was with PTSD and the loss of her arm, not Blake leaving. Just because your ship isn’t getting support 90% of the time doesn’t mean they have forgotten each other. “

Does nothing to rebuttle my argument and you have shown to be a Bumbleby shipper and bias against Sun so you kind of dug yourself deeper.

4. “ Oh right you are ONE OF THOSE people who think somehow Blake fighting for her agency was “abusive”. Riiiight. We are done here. Yiikes, some of the fandom is legit creepy MRAs, who knew. “

http://knightofbalance-13.tumblr.com/post/156662016115/people-tend-to-get-up-in-arms-about-how-rwby

No I am not. I used that comparison to show how stupid that argument is because calling Sun a stalker is just as stupid and ignorant as calling Blake an abuser. Sun wa strying to help a friend who had a tendecy to dash away and hurt herself even more (illa anyone?) and Blake was trying to protect a friend. All that did was piss me off and make you look like the bias one for you calling me an MRA. Also Ad homien again.

5. “There’s nothing “subjective” about the fight lacking the basic sense of direction of adherence to physics. Characters are not freaking hot air balloons and they certainly can’t float. It was weightless mess. “

Okay. I’ve sen that in so many anime I may as well cite the entire SHonen genre as a reference to when that happens. The fight was also praised for the teamwork between Blake and Sun and the clever usage of their clones.

You also didn’t address my point about RWBY even bothering with Physics so I’ll expand on it: Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann is cited as a major influence on RWBY and considering that show broken every law of physics in he first five episodes, we’re lucky RWBY bothers with such troublesome things.

6. “ Raven clearly gives enough shits about Qrow. And Qrow getting back up is inevitable, the only question is what mcguffin is used for that. Either way its better than three children suddenly being able to fight a decade old overpowered sueprgrimm. “

Proof about the Raven thing? Because considering the fact she was petty enough to not tell Qrow were the Spring Maiden was because he wouldn’t bend to her will and join a band of murderers and thieves, despite refusing to go with Qrow with people who don’t actively fuck over humanity on purpose, she wouldn’t care if Qrow dies. Fuck, she doesn’t care if Yang dies.

And does Qrow need to be healed with a macguffin and not, you know, doctors? And considering your problems with RWBY’s writing beforehand, you’ll bitch about that too.

And I can think of three ways they can kill that thing:

A. It shown that the Nucklevee is weak to Ruby’s Silver Eyes but eitehr has a resistance still or is aware of teh Silver EYes and keeps out of range. Thus the rest of Team RNJR have to distract or weaken the Nucklevee.

B. Jaune stays back and analyzes the Nucklevee and finds a weakness in it and directs his team to exploit this weakness.

C. My personal favorite: Ren or Nora jump down the Nucklevee’s throat and bust through it’s stomach. It’s brutal, it’ satisfying and considering the pain it caused them, it’s thematically appropriate.

All three use show material to advance the plot instead of a Deus Ex Machina.

7. “

We got nothing from Blake except a rehash of Volume 1 finale with Sun regurgitating Weiss words. The story simply went fullcircle to end of Vol3 again.

I already addressed Weiss as the positive of the volume. Even then her story was disjointed.

Yang’s issues were not addressed. They literally disappeared, including her physical AND mental disability.

We never saw Ruby mourn. We sure did see Jaune do that. Oh how much did we see that.

I already addressed Qrow stuff as sort of positive, albeit we literally barely learned anything beyond his semblance.

We already knew Ozpin disapeared by Vol3 ending. Oscar story could easily h ave been implied by him showing up and being addressed as Ozpin.

Look into remnant was done in WOR not in the show. “ A. You don’t say how it’s a rehash of Volume 1 whereas I can point out that the conflict in Volume 1 was Blake overcoming her fears of being rejected by her friends over the White Fang whereas Volume 4 shows=cases her problems with working with other people, her martyr complex and learning to let others help her. B. The your first point and overall point here: “At least some indication that this volume was not literally pointless” is disproven by your own words. And no, you can’t exclude Weiss from this because you said “literally” meaning you meant what you said and t5ehre is no room for mistake or error. C. My original point here: “Yang’s anger issues and sloppy fighting being addressed which lead to her PTSD in teh first place.” Notice how the point here is using Yang’s anger issues and sloppy fighting as the argument with the PTSD is used as a connector and the rebuttle is about the PTSD. In short: It does nothing to disprove my points of Yang’s anger and sloppy fighting. D. We saw Jaune mourn in Episode 2 and 11...that’s it...where Ruby also mourned as indicated by her sharing that mourning with Jaune. E. Then again, your mian point does not work by your own words. F. Then how would we know what happened with Ozpin or how Oscar reatced or how Oscar came to listen to Ozpin to who Oscar even is? Bet you would still complain there. G. And WOR isn’t a part of RWBy despite being listed with RWBY...how?

P.S. The reason why this post exists is because the OP cannot be reblogged. The original poster essentially tried wining teh argument by silencing me. jokes on them huh?

#invested-in-your-future #rwde bullshit #rwby

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