#truly defining what it means to live long enough to see yourself become the villain

[clementimetodie]

Abuser is abusing me. I am going to respond by dragging myself down to their level and abusing them in the same way they abused me, but it's okay when I do it, because I am Morally Righteous, God Himself even told me so!

[piduai]

Interview with Noda Satoru from the Golden Kamuy fanbook

sharing anywhere is fine, but please credit me.

Q: Tell me how you feel about passing 6 years of serialization. Noda: I was already serializing at the time of my debut, so I guess I’d be able to give a summary when I’m finished. I don’t really think about how many years it’s been, it’s merely a checkpoint.

Q: What made you decide to become a mangaka? Noda: I feel like I wrote it down as my goal in my yearbook back in middle school. I also wanted to become a movie director, but as a mangaka you can create the entire thing by yourself. 

When Golden Kamuy just took off I was living in a tiny apartment and the postman, a young fellow and a reader of Young Jump, realized that I’m Noda Satoru. The magazine was sending me a lot of things, so it was rather obvious. “Are you the author of Golden Kamuy?”, he asked in a surprised tone while looking around the cramped entryway. I could feel feel his confusion regarding the fact that that vast Hokkaido world of the manga was being created in this modest apartment. Or maybe he just expected me to be making more money and afford a better place. Anyhow, I just thought again about how a manga can be created in even the smallest room in the universe.

Q: Who is your favorite character and why? Noda: As always, it’s Tanigaki. But well, I love all of them. I want to showcase only the best parts of them, and it hurts when I fail. For example I’m very happy that there’s a character who stirs the pot as well as Usami. He’d be Katsuo in the world of Sazae-san.  

Q: Which characters are the easiest to draw, and which ones are the most difficult? Noda: Characters like Shiraishi, Tsukishima and Nagakura, they don’t have a lot of hair and even if they turn out a little ugly their faces are well-defined so it’s easy to draw. In general faces that are strongly distorted and resemble caricatures are easy. Meanwhile Asirpa, Kiroranke and Inkarmat have neat facial structures on top of wearing Ainu clothing, so they are a very high-calorie effort for me. Ogata and Kikuta are difficult too. Their faces are distinctive and I have to make them look cool too, which is wearing me out the most.

Q: Have you decided on all 24 convicts at the very start of the story? Noda: Wouldn’t I sound like a badass if I said that that I have? Anyway. There were the ones that were based off real-life Meiji era criminals, such as Shiraishi, Kumagishi Chouan or the lightning couple, and of course there was Hijikata.

Q: Tell me of a funny thing from the manga that you are fond of. Noda: Gansoku’s “Hah! ☆”. And also when Koito Jr. Was flapping his arms and legs around trying to keep himself in mid-air.

Q: Why did you decide on Otaru as the starting point? Noda: I am from Hokkaido, so I’m familiar with Otaru and Sapporo. Otaru is close to both the mountains and the sea. Sapporo used to be a swampland, it’s wide and flat and there is no sea. Otaru is a place where foreigners come and go, there are many criminals roaming around creating danger, and money is found. There aren’t many big cities in Hokkaido. There were Ainu living in Otaru but sources are scarce, however Nakagawa-sensei, the supervisor over the Ainu language, told me not to worry too much about the difference of location, so I figured it would be best to make it Otaru.

Q: Was there any real life experience you had while growing up in Hokkaido that you turned into a scenario? Noda: When I was about 19 someone I knew told me that there is a locust graveyard on a nearby mountain, which sounded so ridiculous I had to laugh in their face. Turns out it indeed was a heap of locusts and their eggs left after a locust plague, that place was the Teineyamaguchi locust mound (a real historical site). I realized I ended up using this in my story. I owe that person an apology.

Q: Was there any scene that was particularly difficult to draw? Could you elaborate on it? Noda: The time Sugimoto went against Nihei and Tanigaki. It gave me a very hard time. Who goes where and does what, how does Nihei carry Asirpa, stuff like this. I had no time to waste either, I just remember that sequence overall driving me insane. 

There was also the sequence with Wilk, Sofia and Kiroranke being at Hasegawa’s photo studio. It’s really frustrating to draw something that you know will bore the readers, the story flow becomes less exciting too. I was praying for everyone to have a little more patience and keep reading, because the twist was so good.

Q: If you were to take part in the gold hunt, which group would you like to belong to? Noda: It seems that Hijikata’s group doesn’t have funding problems, and because Kadokura is there the atmosphere is relaxed too. I’d go there.

Q: If you were to find all that gold, how would you use it? Noda: No idea. Had a couple when I was younger, though.

Q: Were you planning to eventually transfer the action to Sakhalin from the very beginning of the series? Noda: Asirpa and Kiroranke have roots there, so I anticipated that the story will eventually move to Sakhalin. I also expected to have to travel to Amur river myself, but couldn’t go after all, only went as far as Khabarovsk. 

I was thinking of making Sugimoto eat permafrost mammoth. There was talk of a research team or an ivory excavation team’s dog eating mammoth. However there was no reason to make Sugimoto and Co go as up north as needed for permafrost, so I scrapped the idea.

Q: Tell me something about the hardships you experienced while doing research is Sakhalin. Noda: It was tough, but fun. I was only able to understand the clear differences between Nivkh and Orok people by going there; I couldn't by only looking at records and materials while in Japan. 

Complete unrelated, but I was surprised by how many stray dogs wander around there. One time my cameraman and I ended up being chased by one while looking for a factory and we had to run for it. The beast was big, about the size of a German Shepherd. The guide also warned us about junkies, it was really scary.

I also went to the Japanese military pillbox over 50th parallel north and prayed at a cenotaph deep in the mountains. I met a group of Japanese people in the hotel by the place where it's said you can still find remains of Japanese soldiers and their driver, a Russian, seemed to help with collection of the remains on the regular. He said that he's doing it out of reverence, even as a former enemy. As a Japanese, I felt gratitude. The 7th Division are villains in my story, but I don't have any personal bias against either side.

Q: What were the biggest differences between drawing Hokkaido and Sakhalin? Noda: Well... it's Russia. Even though Sakhalin is so close, it's already Europe. The structure of houses is strikingly different. There's also the differences between Hokkaido Ainu and Sakhalin Ainu, and differences between Orok and Nivkh people. There is no manga that will conveniently lay the differences of those down for you. 

It seems that the Orok and Nivkh's relation with Japan only got more difficult by the beginning of Showa era, there is only one person in the whole of Japan who can supervise on the Orok language. The professors in cultural studies I consult for Golden Kamuy are truly top-level; not only are they tremendously knowledgeable, they also understand how important to me is to stay impartial.

The wildlife, as well. There's a biogeographical boundary between Hokkaido and Sakhalin, observing animals I would never be able to see in Hokkaido was riveting. 

Q: Did Sugimoto really have a hidden plan during the whole stenka business? Noda: No idea. Even if he used it as a pretext to get everyone involved, though... cut him some slack. He's only a man. Sometimes he just wants to fight and win. Not for Ume-chan or Asirpa-san, just for the sake of proving to himself that he's strong.

Q: Your art is dynamic and detailed. I think your style changed quite a bit with time, though. How would you describe yourself as an artist? Noda: I want to preface this by saying that in no way do I think of myself as more skilled than other mangaka, but if you're drawing everyday for more than 10 hours you're going to improve a lot eventually, whether you want it or not. People who are able to keep the same style for years without change are the ones who are impressive, because it means that they achieved the peak of their potential. Ageing and health problems influence your art a lot, you know. I try to draw by observing. I use a lot of references. Drawing by memory alone is not a good thing.

Speaking of other artists, I once had one of the assistants I had working for me for years draw me a door knob from memory, and the result was a truncated cone resembling pre-packaged pudding. The actual shape of a door knob has an intricately angular circular shape. It's the result of being unobservant in everyday life. Good art requires constant observation.

Q: What was the foundation for your style? Is there an artist you were influenced or inspired by? Noda: Araki Hirohiko-sensei, for sure. During my time as an assistant, many authors told me to not even try to be original when it comes to battle abilities, it's already been done in JoJo, it has it all. He's kind of the Beatles of this industry, isn't he? 

By the way, I usually have no intention of parodying JoJo in Golden Kamuy, but my friends will tell me that they identified this or that reference from time to time. I read Part 1 about 30 years ago but I was obsessed, so maybe some things were just left in my subconscious. I only did one obvious parody, during the stenka fight. Funnily enough that trope started in Fist of the North Star, though, not JoJo.

Q: What's one thing that gives you the most motivation to write? Noda: Fan letters. I know how straining it is to write long and neat sentences by hand, and am thankful for them. I'm happy that people go that far to share their thoughts about my work with me. I'm really grateful to the people who keep reading and supporting Golden Kamuy.

Q: Did you have an interest in Ainu culture before starting the series? Noda: I did not. I'll be glad if my work makes people interested in the Ainu. Prejudice is born out of ignorance, so if you want to learn about the Ainu, don't limit yourself to Hokkaido only; there are museums all around Japan, and they have knowledgeable curators. It's important to remember to take into account the time period and the occupation of the person on which the research materials are based when you're trying to learn about the subject.

Q: You showed us a lot of aspects of life during Meiji and Taisho eras. Tell us about what surprised or impressed you in the process of research. Noda: It's not that I was particularly knowledgeable, so having to check every single thing was quite exhausting. The Ainu, the military, katanas - all of these needed research on my part. 

There are more regulations and rules set for things out there than one could assume, and mangaka who base their works on real life need to be especially careful about this. You have to take into account things like the size of the buttons on a military uniform, how a tea cup is held, and and how different people talk in different ways. For movies there's staff working on costumes and props, there's the cast, there are screenwriters, but in a manga you are the one responsible for every single detail. I wish I had a time machine and travel back to those eras. There are things I couldn't get right here and there that I keep having regrets about.

Q: Golden Kamuy was the main visual in the British Museum manga exhibition between May and August in 2019. I know you went there in person. How was it? Noda: The trip felt like a reward for all of my efforts. The exhibition is jam-packed by opening time, but I got special treatment and they let me inside early in the morning so I could walk around the vast British Museum in solitude. I also travelled between Jack the Ripper's crime scenes at night by taxi.

The driver in a taxi I caught by chance was wonderful, she looked up photos of the crime scenes and surroundings taken at the time of investigation on her smartphone and showed them to me one by one, saying things like "the third victim was found here!". 

I've always had a soft spot for Jack the Ripper, back in middle school I even wrote a screenplay for a school festival stage and played him in it myself. It was done in very poor taste, like that one scene in the Addams Family movie where there are arms blown away and fountains of blood gushing out. The audience loved it. 

Q: Please leave a message for the readers. Or maybe some advice for the troubled youth. Noda: I want people to say that everyone in Golden Kamuy had a satisfying ending, and I want that for everyone involved more than anything. As for advice for the troubled youth, there's none. Life is survival of the fittest. The weak ones get eaten.

[orphicnatural]

3 8 9 17 and 18 for the discourse!!!!

thank you bestie💕 doing these

3. Are Sam and Dean good people?

ok so it depends on how you define “good people” by the outcome of their actions or by their intentions. bc like theres definite objectively good people who make a positive impact on their community and society, but what about people who try to be good dispite all their circumstances when historically “being good” has almost only caused them pain? not to get too philosophical but i think intentions rly do matter. so yeah sam and dean try to be good people which makes them good people to some degree.

in terms of whether they are objectively good people, i think they were at the start of the series but were def not by the end. of course this was a gradual process where they rly stopped saving the world from dangers and were basically saving the world from themselves. which i think is a suuuper interesting example of “you either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain” bc they truly dont see themselves as the villain, though i’m sure at least some of the people they’ve hurt lost or killed along the way see them as villains. its hard to pinpoint the exact point where they stopped being heroes but i would say it was sometime around the end of season 8

8. How should the afterlife have been “resolved”? Did the fixing of heaven work?

i have so many issues with the new heaven bc like not everyone wants the same thing? like the same heaven isn’t gonna satisfy everyone and if its just like being on earth but better, what is the incentive to stay alive? personally i think they should have done away with the afterlife and the souls or whatever just gets released back into the universe

9. Best season finale?

hands down All Hell Beaks Loose and Swan Song!!

17. Favorite Villain?

i mean idk of crowley even counts as a villain but he’s my fave character in the whole show :) but other than that probably og murder daddy cain :)

18. When did Supernatural start to decline in quality?(if it did)

ok well you see this is hard one bc supernatural is four different shows. as it progressed some things got loads better (gay angel gets gayer) but some things got loads worse (sam’s characterization, the fkn orange lighting🤢). but personally i think the first five seasons are consistently really good and after that its way more hit or miss depending on the showrunner at the time and the episode writer

the think about supernatural is that it has always been the best show on tv and the worst show on tv. the most show of all time if you will :)

[astyle-alex]

[FanFic] Start with Why | the Old Guard

You’d think, eventually, the excitement of posting a new chapter of something would simmer down a bit, especially when the chapter’s already live on other platforms, but nope. I’m still hyped up to share it here!

Start With Why

Fandom: the Old Guard Pairings: Background Nicky x Joe Characters / Focus: OT5 + Copley, reacting to Booker's betrayal Rating: Gen Audiences Warnings: None (well, language, because the team are all quite colorful) Total Word Count: 10,288 Chapter Word Count: 1,757

Summary:

The thing about betrayal is that it hurts. Sometimes it hurts too much to see the broader situation clearly. But after Booker's betrayal, the team has to look at themselves and see how every one of them is culpable. Booker may have done the deed, but his measly 200 years makes him a child to the others, especially Andy, and like babysitters are to blame when their charge sets the curtains on fire, the Family needs to ask themselves WHY and accept the honest answers. Why Copley, Why Merrick, and Why something made Booker believe that his choice was the right one for his Family...

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||  Read on Patreon  |  Read on Ao3  ||

Part III :: Nicky

           Nicky holds the middle ground.

           He provides a more ranged variety of support.

           It is the role he’s always had, the one he’s always volunteered for.

           He can be cold and objective when he needs to be, no matter what’s at stake.

           But this is a test like no other that he’s faced.

           He hurts for his little Family, for every member of it.

           Booker is his brother and yet he hurt the rest of them— hurt them acutely and intentionally in a way that he had to know would sting like nothing else ever could.

           And yet… Book is hurting so much as that and more, so lost in the despair as he was to have been unable to see things with any hint of clarity.

           Andy says he truly thought it would help.

           Nile says he never thought the others would be grabbed, that he’s worried for Nicolò and Yusuf’s future and the potential pain they’d face when the Almighty that brought them together eventually tore them apart.

           Joe is still too hurt and heartbroken to say anything he truly means.

           And Nicky doesn’t know where that leaves him. Where that leaves them, both the two of them and the four of them… and even the five of them, to be honest.

           Eventually, the argument lapses into silence, weighted and thick with too much grief to sort through the varied points of origin.

           Nicky stands.

           Joe nearly falls out of his seat as he stands to step in front of him— bodily barring his way toward Booker with a kind of heart-broke desperation that makes Nicky nearly crumble.

           And yet…

           Nicolò di Genova does not back down.

           Such is not a trait within his nature. His gaze is filled with sympathy as it meets Joe’s own despairing and betrayed one, but he does not back down.

           Yusuf is Nicolò’s heart and soul, his whole reason for being better than he was— for being a person who could overcome what Booker had not— but Yusuf is not all he is. Yusuf is not the piece of him that defines the limits of what he can be, but the start of his potential. He and Yusuf are still discrete entities, even after eons, they are their own people bound by Fate and love and history, but not merged in any way that makes their love banal or any less miraculous.

           They are not two halves of one whole.

           They are two hearts that beat in sync, two souls that sing in harmony, two minds that see and feel and know enough to teach each other— to show each other new things and new perspectives even after centuries of being in this world together.

           Joe cannot see what Nicky does, and Nicky won’t let his place at Joe’s side determine his ultimate loyalties without his own past-due evaluation.

           Nicky stares Joe down, implacable, until his lover deflates enough to sag back into his seat— heaving Nicky’s pseudo-betrayal off with a huff as he keeps his back firmly to the window.

           Nicky rests his elbows on the rail beside Booker and waits in silence until Book looks over at him— having heard the door open and braced himself for something louder and more final than a quiet conversation with Nicky.

           Nicky doesn’t deliver final verdicts.

           He’ll explain them if the initial delivery doesn’t get the message properly across, but he does not report the sentence first of all.

           If Nicky has a verdict for you, you’ll find it out when he’s put a bullet in your brain.

           Nicky also doesn’t ask. He demands the answers he seeks when he knows who has them.

           But here, he doesn’t know any questions that he actually wants to have answered, yet.

           He just wants Booker to explain, wants in turn to explain himself to Booker… because they are a Family, and none of them can possibly exist in true isolation.

           Book is the one who made the bad decision, but the rest of them are not absolved of all responsibility, as they were all party to creating what bleak circumstances Booker faced, to creating what dismay he believed was enough to push him into making his horrid choice.

           Nicky waits for Booker to speak his Truth, waits with his eyes on the restless sea.

           “I am so sorry, Nicky,” Booker says, looking at him with imploring eyes.

           “I cannot give you absolution, Basti,” Nicky tells him, gaze still on the ocean. “And I cannot yet bring my own self to forgive you, no matter what reasons you bring to bear.”

           Booker falls silent, defeated like a kicked dog.

           “We failed you too, however, in letting you face your despair as we did,” Nicky tells him after a long moment of solemn contemplation. “We failed you in how we brought you into our Family, failed you every bit as much as we’ve ever failed the civilians that we cannot save. But we also did not pull the trigger on this, as you did, and I am finding it difficult to reconcile such divisive and complementary guilts.”

           They always think of Joe as the one to give the pretty speeches, and his Yusuf certainly deserves the epithet, but Nicky appreciates those speeches not because he is incapable of wielding words himself, but because he is more economical with how he states his feelings.

           He pulls no punches, leaves no ambiguity.

           When he is confused, he says so, and when he’s not he states it clear.

           “Yusuf is my heart, my soul, my mind’s only true peace,” Nicky tells his little brother with the cool detachment of age and sympathy. “We have let you bear 200 years of misery and let ourselves forget, nigh even then, how truly young you still are. Nile helped me to remember it, her saying how you had called her so young. A ‘neighbor with a dead pet’, she said. It goes for comfort, too, Basti— it goes for certainty and calm.”

           “You’ve never been a father, Nicky, even as old as you are,” Booker pleads, half frantic to have his reasons reconciled. He wants to be clear, to give himself over unto the others’ understanding, to be heard and truly listened to… He is desperate for it, desperate to be understood, in a way Nicky has, unforgivably, realized he hadn’t the patience to fully see before.

           “And you’ve never had a love grow warm inside you over eons, to feel the Faith in Truth it brings,” Nicky replied, not ceding any ground.

           Booker bites his tongue— cutting off what was sure to be a sour retort, a snap of love turned too bitter to bear. Of trust that feels betrayed as what he feels should be a valid point is just summarily dismissed.

           “You loved them very much, your wife and children,” Nicky states, confident that his words will not be taken as any kind of understatement. “You loved them until it consumed you like a fire, as you believe Yusuf and I love. But you are still so young in how you see things if you think the love either of us has could ever die with the ones to whom we give it.”

           Booker blinks, equal parts surprised and hurt, Nicky thinks.

           “Your family hurt you at their end,” Nicky goes on, “They levied accusations, and you have let yourself descend to meet them. This man beside me is not the one they loved while living, and you do them disservice by believing you could become the monster that they made you. Their love is pure and powerful, tainted only by mortal concerns that I have Faith their immortal souls regret. But if they were first to meet you now, they would not be able to abide it.”

           Booker is retreating, sliding away from Nicky, inch by inch, along the rail.

           “If Yusuf dies, I will despair,” Nicky confesses. “I will ravage lands and wreck vengeance on all villains I can find, killing countless in his name. But the grief will ebb in the face of what good I can still do in his name, what good I can lay claim to having had his heart inspire. It will hurt, and I cannot bear to think of what horrors I may commit at the apex of it, but I cannot believe I will forget the goodness of my Yusuf, the good-work he had, in all his life, strove to create. I cannot believe I will dishonor my own love for him by failing to carry his work on.”

           “ ‘This is what we do’, you say,” Book says with a keening sort of hollow voice. “It’s a mantra, not true belief. You want to believe it, but you have no proof and you want it.”

           “You say Copley has proof, say you’ve seen it, yet you do not believe any more than I that what we do day to day affects things,” Nicky counters. “It is a mantra, and it is belief. The belief is more robust on some days than on others, but there is nothing that will break my Faith. I am a thousand years old, Basti, and the world has been awful for every single one of the years I’ve lived. But there are people who have lived longer lives because of my presence in the horrors of their worst moments, and I have found a way to let that be enough.”

           Booker doesn’t speak— can’t speak.

           Nicky turns his gaze away, looking back to the violent roll of the ocean waves.

           “Tell me why, Booker,” he demands, voice soft and smooth and inescapable. “Tell me what it is you want. Tell me what will help you, or will help me see you.”

           Booker half-collapses.

           “I don’t have excuses left,” he manages eventually. “I don’t have good reasons, or bad ones…. Or anything. I don’t have anything. Just the grief and the regret.”

           “You have us,” Nicky promises simply. “I cannot forgive you yet, but I can promise you that my inability is due only to the freshness of this hurt. You will be forgiven and welcomed back into the Family with no further stipulations, once you have paid your penance.”

           “I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.” Booker knows Nicky cannot disagree.

           But he feels his test of faith has been suddenly decided.

           “Love does not care what you deserve,” Nicky says pushing off the rail to return to where the others wait inside for his assessment.

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[im-a-bit-too-obsessed-with-bnha]

Izuku angst fic recs Pt. 1

Izuku angst fic recs! D (most of these are hurt/comfort)

Because this i s angst there are lots of triggering topics so please take care of yourself and read the tags <3

Puppet master by Krumble Kitty  

Quirks. Superpowers that most anyone holds nowadays. Quirks can range from anything from running a millisecond faster to the strength to change the weather with just one punch from the wind pressure it generates. Quirks are everything. Quirks define who you are. Every child is elated to discover their quirk and find out who they truly are. This happens around the ripe age of four years old. Some are natural-born heroes. Others are perfect for other occupations such as baking or being an artist. With such a high hope for the future that a quirk brings, one would think they would be happy to discover theirs and reveal just how useful they can be. But… What happens when your quirk dictates you as nothing more than a doll to be used by others?

Izuku Midoriya found out four-years-old that not all people are created equally. He found out when he drew the short end of the stick of luck and ended up with a quirk worse than quirklessness. He's dealt with it long enough.

Now it's time for Izuku to take hold of his own strings and stop letting others control his life. He won't be a doll forever.

Just trying to survive (and learn to love along the way) by floorplay

Aizawa Shouta gives out his number to his class for emergencies, in the hope that they never call. He wants some peace and quiet with his husband, thank you very much. However, a late night call for help from his number 1 Problem Child gives him a startling discovery about his home life and drags everyone onto the path to healing. Follow Midoriya Izuku as he deals with the frequent dangers of Class 1-A while discovering the true meaning of family along the way.

Inheritance by AisforAmy71

When Inko dies in a trainwreck while protecting Izuku from the impact, Izuku discovers he had a quirk all along. The ability to inherit the quirks of people that die is, to say the least, problematic. It sends Izuku on a much different track that he ever imagined his life taking, but will hopefully end up exactly where he needs to be.

Live a Hero by BeyondTheClouds777

"You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

Or, you're raised a villain, rebel when you're nine, and fight against the odds to become a hero anyway.

That's how it is in Izuku's case.

Blind man says” Only fools rush in by  Hawkeye221b

Izuku Midoryia has always wanted to be a Hero, even before the villain attack that took his eyesight. After that attack, he has to cope with a quirk that not only holds the key to his future success, but also his new form of "sight".

(basically a fic where i thought "hey, what if Izuku had a quirk that controlled all 4 elements like in Avatar, but was blind and used his earth bending quirk to "see" like Toph did? Dadzawa and Dad might will come later, i promise)

[princesssarisa]

Frozen II  – my thoughts on Elsa’s outcome (warning – long and full of spoilers)

At this point, my only real objection to the ending is the fact that separation endings have been way, way overdone in the past year. If Ralph Breaks the Internet, Toy Story 4, How to Train Your Dragon 3, Maleficent: Mistress of Evil, Steve’s outcome in Avengers: Endgame, and the finale of My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic didn’t exist, my feelings would be almost fully positive. Especially because Elsa and Anna will still see each other all the time, they just don’t live under the same roof anymore.

I also have a minor quibble about the idea that growing up means you “need” to live apart from your siblings or extended family (not that the movie ever says that, it’s just a cultural norm). And when I read comments from fans saying “Yes, it’s slightly bittersweet, but that’s realistic, it’s a mature ending,” I feel a little sad that not even Disney is letting kids believe in happily ever after anymore. This applies to the whole separation/bittersweet ending trend throughout the past year’s family media. Again, these are minor issues.

But as a person on the autism spectrum who, like so many, feels a connection to Elsa, I love the way things turn out for her.

First of all, there’s the fact that for all of Elsa’s popularity, the protagonist of the original Frozen is Anna, and Elsa, though certainly not the villain, is, in terms of story structure, the main antagonist. Throughout most of the first film, her powers are a deadly force to be overcome – the endless winter must be stopped and Anna’s frozen heart must be thawed. Yes, the beauty of her powers is also highlighted and she fully realizes and shares that beauty in the end, but for the most part her magic is still a negative presence in the story. There’s a reason why so many viewers see it as analogous to a mental disorder.

Also, as many have pointed out, “Let It Go” has a bit of a Misaimed Fandom. Meta joke about how overplayed it is aside, it’s no wonder that in the sequel Elsa cringes at the memory of herself singing it. Yes, it’s an empowering anthem and it’s a good thing that she finally stops suppressing her powers, but it’s a bad thing that she turns her back on her people, her responsibilities and her sister, and while she’s reveling in her new freedom, she’s unwittingly burying Arendelle in snow. In the end she has to go back and give up some of that freedom, and even though she’s happy, it can still ring bittersweet to those of us who connect with the song.

The analogy is imperfect, but I do think of how my own situation with mild autism compares to Elsa’s. My huge emotions, panic attacks and ferocious meltdowns, so hard to control (see the Intense World Theory), and my difficulty with social interactions and playing by society’s rules in general. The concept of a person born with destructive magical powers tied to her emotions is an apt analogy. Her years behind closed doors bring to mind my own introversion and social anxiety. I hear “Conceal, don’t feel” and think of all times I’ve been instructed or scolded to keep my unruly emotions and odd instincts under control. Like Elsa’s powers, my autism has some beauty in it too: my intelligence, creativity, good memory, etc. But it’s still a disorder that society isn’t built for, and generally it’s something I need to mask around others. Also like Elsa, I’ve struggled with guilt and with feeling like a burden to my family. I know I’m not alone in relating to her for these reasons.

So imagine my vicarious thrill over “Show Yourself.” When Elsa finally learns the origin of her powers and learns that she was born that way for a reason – that it isn’t a curse, or just a random difference, but a gift. When she steps fully into her power for the first time, and unlike in “Let It Go,” it’s unambiguously a wonderful thing, both for her and for others. When she finally fully embraces self-love, realizing that everything she thought she needed from the outside is already within her (“You are the one you’ve been waiting for”) and that it’s time to fully show herself to the world. When she goes on to truly “see what she can do” and “test the limits and break through,” as she once sang, but this time in a heroic way, saving her people from her grandfather’s past sins – not from her own mistakes for a change. The moment I first learned about the plot point of the dam and the tidal wave that would destroy Arendelle if it fell, I was thrilled by the thought of Elsa using her powers to stop that tidal wave. The character whom we misfits relate to thoroughly leaves behind her old “sympathetic antagonist” territory and becomes a true heroine, taking her raw power that once endangered the kingdom and using it to save it.

(This is another reason why I don’t believe the rumors that she was originally supposed to stay frozen and that her revival is a Focus Group Ending. In the first place, what would be the point of her glorious self-actualization if it were only leading to her death? In the second place, who would stop the flood?)

I’d love to have the kind of experience she does. I wish I could learn that everything “disordered” about me is actually a gift and that fully being myself will bring good things both to me and to others. Maybe someday this will happen, but I don’t see it happening any time soon, so to see it happen to Elsa is incredibly therapeutic.

Then we have her becoming the forest’s guardian in the end. At first the idea made me uncomfortable because I thought it might seem to say that people who are different belong outside of human society. But the fact that she still regularly visits Arendelle and evidently stays close to the Northuldra too puts that concern at ease. I also understand why some people who relate to her are upset that she gives up her throne, because it was therapeutic to see someone so different and insecure not only find love and acceptance, but be able to rule a kingdom too. I agree that if she had wanted to stay queen forever, that would have been perfectly fine. But I think it’s perfectly reasonable that in the end it’s not what she wants.

Isn’t it arguably a bit of a waste for Elsa’s epic powers, which can alter landscapes, build castles, create life or take it, etc., to be confined to making pretty decorations and skating rinks? Isn’t it reasonable that after her self-actualization, she prefers a life’s purpose where her powers are central, since they’ve always been her chief defining feature and shaped most of who she is? As opposed to the life of a queen, where they’re only incidental? I can’t help but remember how much I struggled in school, from first grade through the first two years of college, when my hyper-focused passions for the arts, music and stories (the hyper-focus being an autistic trait, the passions being tied to the hyper-emotional sensitivity I’ve mentioned) had to be treated as just “what I do for fun in my spare time,” while math (UGH!!!), science, and other things i had no interest in and no talent for were treated as my life’s purpose. I also think of all the people in mundane corporate and blue-collar jobs, which I’m grateful every day that I’ve been lucky enough to avoid so far. If they were to find new jobs that reflect their greatest talents and unlock their full potential, wouldn’t we want them to take those new jobs? This is why I’m happy that Elsa’s new life purpose revolves around nature and magic.

Yes, I’ve read the complaints from some fans that Elsa has “lost some of her humanity,” and that’s fair. But let’s not be too quick to equate “humanity” with normality and “inhumanity” with difference. even if said difference is supernatural magic. Another reason why I like Elsa’s outcome is that Disney hasn’t always had the best track record with misfit characters who remind me of myself. I love Beauty and the Beast, especially from a feminist viewpoint, but when I see myself in the Beast, I sometimes feel awkward about his arc. I know they probably didn’t mean to code him as autistic, but still – a misunderstood loner outcast, to whom neatness, grooming and manners don’t come naturally, who struggles with the most basic social skills, who fails to understand others’ emotions at first, and who has massive meltdowns of rage when he’s under stress? How can I not see it? The fact that his journey consists of his being “tamed,” learning to suppress all his raw emotions and rough edges to please Belle, and that his happy ending is to become fully normal by becoming human again, doesn’t make him much fun to relate to. Give me a character like Elsa, who learns that her differences are her strength.

Elsa’s ending is just what I wanted for her, because it’s what I want for myself. Identifying with her is a more enjoyable thing than ever now.

[nortromthesilencer]

Instruction Due (Compile)

Started with an ask for Rizzrack: “ What is the worst kind of tree? “

Rizzrack

“They’re all the worst! But if you really need to know the worst of the worst, then let me tell you about this particular one. I can’t say I recall the name of the lands I was in, some place in the mountains far north. So! I end up coming face to face with your typical acre of trees, and silly old me didn’t think anything else about it except that I needed it cut it all down of course! That’s what I do. I start cutting. I’m making my way through and all is going well but then, I see it. A big wall of bark. I look up. This is the biggest, tallest tree, I have ever seen. It must’ve been a mile high! Just this, one big tree surrounded by all these other trees. It made them look like pathetic weeds in comparison! Now, you might be wondering, ‘Rizzrack, how did you manage to cut this big tree down?’ I didn’t. I screamed and I got as far away as possible. Don’t give me that look, it caught me by surprise! I promise though, someday when I find myself in that area again, I”ll take care of it. No tree goes uncut!”

NortromtheSilencer

“The upper mountainous regions of the Rue Lands is home to some of the most ancient of redwoods, taller than any others I have ever seen. Imagine encountering not one, but hundreds of trees that height? O second thought, don’t. The ecological damage you would cause would be irreparable. In killing those threes you would kill hundreds if not thousands of species habitats, destroying any sense of homeostasis, and leaving them doomed to die along with any who live in the area and rely on hunting.”

“…”

“How does it feel to know that your goal will kill and doom many more than the trees ever have? When does this mad escapade go from you being a hero to the villain?”

Rizzrack

Rizzrack stammers, caught off guard by Nortrom’s sudden input and appearance. Oh boy, according to the small-keen, out of the two of them, Nortrom was definitely the nosier one. That’s saying something.

“Ugh, you clearly underestimate the destructive nature of trees. There’s plenty of other things this world can rely on other than those monsters I assure you. It’s called adapting! And science! Well, in your case I suppose magic. Ugh, anywho, trust me, sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Besides, Silencer, if you really, truly believe me to be a villain, you’d put an end to me, wouldn’t you?” Rizzrack leans back within his suit and smirks. “Hah, thought so!”

NortromtheSilencer

“No, I see you as not realizing of the very destruction you are causing. For one who boasts about being in a race of scientifically minded and advanced beings, you know nothing about your own psychology or the ecosystem.”

He stares, rather null of expression, before adding one last note, “And if you do come to be a threat, you are correct: I will not hesitate to put you down.”

Rizzrack

Rizzrack rolls his eyes in annoyance and makes a mock puppet with his hand, “yapping” with it as Nortrom speaks. He sighs, waiting for the man to finish a speech the Keen takes more effort to ignore than to listen to. Of course as usual, something catches his attention. He meets the Silencer’s stare with an offended look.

“Excuse me? If I DO become a threat?”

This implies something, doesn’t it? Yes! It implies that maybe he isn’t doing his job to the best of his ability. How could that be though? Have any villages, towns or cities been destroyed by trees lately? Well, no, but, it doesn’t mean that it won’t happen, and this Silencer.

Ugh! Snobby, smug, son of a-

“Birch, oak, elm, you name it, those are the real threats! Why can’t-why can’t you just get that? Oh, pfft why do I keep wasting my time trying to reason with you? It’s pointless.”

The Timbersuit gives a dismissive wave with a clawed hand as it turns to leave.

“Whatever. I’m done here. I’ve got more important things to do, like a thankless job.” The cockpit of the suit rotates around as it continues to walk away to reveal the operator sticking his tongue out in a childish manner. “Oh, and I’ll be looking forward to that day you try to stop me! With great anticipation!”

NortromtheSilencer

Arrogance was one of the few peeves Nortrom had no tolerance for, on top of ignorance. By displaying both, Rizzrack marked himself for the man’s ire. Soon the sounds around them, the rattling clunk of the Timbersaw as it trotted away, vanished into nothingness. Before one might register why this was, the Silencer took off in a blur of violet as he dashed full sprint, glaive manifesting into his hand and hooking straight into the armour of the timbersuit. It vibrated with a cyan hue, pure willpower radiating from matching eyes, glowing, angered, and using this as an anchor point the man forced himself upward and lept into the cockpit before Rizzrack. Given there was no sound, the jarring effect would be greatly magnified on most.

“You better listen up with those big ears of yours,” Nortrom grabbed Rizzrack by the collar of the shirt, hauling him from his seat and face to face. Only the SIlencer’s voice, rife with annoyance and anger, could be heard; All else was silent.

“You think you’re playing some high and mighty hero, saving people from the trees, when all you’re doing is committing eco-terrorism. In a bid to ‘save’ yourself, you instead condemn other creatures to extinction… Ever think about this the other way around? Ever think that those trees that killed your family, your people, your city– Ever think they were doing the same thing? You encroached on their space, cut and killed their kin, so now like you and your mad crusade against trees they lashed out and killed those responsible? The very same bullshit you keep spouting is the very same thing they thought, about the Keens rising up to kill all of them, and destroy their way of life? No, you can’t see further than your own fucking nose, can you? It would be too hard to admit you may have done the same fucking thing in reverse.”

His brows were knit, a stern scowl plastered across age defined featured and eyes glowing a violent blue as he held the silence around them. Nortrom snarled, one last point to make, “If I so much as hear of a single branch falling by your doing anywhere near any of Aeol Drias’ land or holdings, the trees won’t be the worst of your worries. I don’t want your havoc wreaking ways to destroy ANYTHING NEAR Aeol Drias, of so help me I will give you something much greater to fear than some damned plants. Do I make myself clear?”

Rizzrack

Rizzrack expected a reaction, but nothing like this.

The silence comes, blocking noise from penetrating deeper within one’s ears that finger tips could accomplish. His mouth opens to spit out words of indignation. but as the glaive digs itself into his suit, his teeth clench and he winces.

That hurt?

A silent gasp. Caught off guard by the unexpected pain, he recoils at the sudden approach of the man. Fearful, he throws his arms out in defense, and turns away. Bad idea. With no sound of steps to indicate how close he was, the sudden grab sends a jolt of terror through his heart. Any sounds of protest continue to go unheard. He turns his head back to face the man, terrified eyes meeting another pair that glow just as bright with anger as they do blue. The voice hits him as if it originates from within his own mind, and once again he feels within him something he hadn’t felt since he crossed the Harbinger.

Nortrom’s words come fast, but this time Rizzrack takes in every single one. With every word comes a jabbing pain into his very self, challenging every part of his existence that came to be since the day that life-changing event took place. His conscience fought against every statement, searching for reason that he can’t be at fault, that they weren’t deserving of such a fate, but the man  continues. Deeper and deeper his words cut him, and the one thought that Rizzrack pushed far into the back of his mind begins to take a step towards the light. He can’t defend himself any longer against his words.

He ceases his struggling within the man’s grip. Try as he might to stop them, tears well up in his eyes as the Silencer makes his final statement. Rizzrack is lost for an answer as a voice he’s repressed for so long speaks within him just as loud as the man. The world is a cruel place, filled with war, souls fighting for their causes and beliefs. Life is unfair. You’re no special.

A desire to avert his gaze tries to overcome him, but he keeps his eyes locked with Nortrom’s. He sees it. He sees it in the lines upon his face. This man before him knows conflict. He knows death, murder, pain. He’s fought his fair share of battles. Putting aside his own pride and selfishness for once, Rizzrack realizes that now about the Silencer.

The air is still held in quiet captivity, but despite his voice going unheard, the movement of his lips still deliver his answer clearly.

“What makes you right?”

NortromtheSilencer

There is a moment of realization in Rizzrack’s eyes, a twitch to his brow and motion carried by his expressions that show he was listening. Good. Even if his answer was just as haughty as the ones before, Nortrom allows the silence to settle, sound gradually returning as if nothing had ever occurred. He instead let his own silence linger, their stares matching, waiting, exemplifying his previous words and those soon to be.

And then…

“The same thing that makes you right, Rizzrack,” Nortrom lowers the Keen enough that his feet can touch the seat, giving him stability, “Nothing.” It’s all assumption by them both, as none can hear the thoughts of the trees, and the motivations of Augury but Augury itself.

Rizzrack

Rizzrack’s feet find their ground as his hands grasp over Nortrom’s which hold him still. Gaining balance, his fingers cautiously tug and pry at his grip as if delicately peeling a sticker from a surface. The small-Keen knows he’s bound to tick him off again some way or another in the future, but for now he just wants to be alone. He needs to think about some things, certain things he has a habit of pushing to the back of his mind, as uncomfortable as it makes him feel to do so.

Nothing.

It tumbles about his mind like a leaf in the breeze. Everything needs a reason, doesn’t it? There was a reason for the trees to attack, just as there was a reason he alone survived. What is the purpose of these things? What is his purpose?

His curiosity taps about, an urge growing within him to seek answers once more if only to satisfy himself and allow him to fabricate some new reason to base a purpose upon. For once he legitimately wants to know more about this man.

The small-Keen looks up at him, and in his heart is a flurry of feelings he just can’t quite figure out. What is it? Something bugs him. Something about the way Nortrom is, having a say in matters as if he knows what truly is going on. Rizzrack’s expression tightens as he begins to admit to himself that maybe this man is more intelligent than he gives him credit for.

As a Keen, it’s humiliating.

He finds himself looking up much longer than intended. He looks away,  finding himself growing more and more uncomfortable now in Nortrom’s presence. When has anyone ever spoken to him like this, challenging him, questioning him, but above all, taking him seriously?

He finally pulls himself away from his hold, leaning his hip against the back rest of the seat. Maybe these interactions need to stop, for the sake of his sanity.

Whatever’s left of it, according to the world.

Rizzrack keeps his gaze averted. Despite sound returning to it’s normal state, he finds himself stuck being silent. He can’t seem to find anything else to say now except for a few small words.

“Can you please get off my suit?”

NortromtheSilencer

Nortrom waits a few silent seconds longer before nodding and fully releasing the Keen from his grip. Fully expecting Rizzrack to attempt and cut him down the second he was near the blades, the Silencer acted fast, jumping with a forceful push against the cockpit as far as he possibly could while staying upright. A glance was cast at the machine, and there was a realization that his glaive was still embedded in the hull; Easy to remedy. Placing his left hand slightly away from him, the glaive vanished from where it had been and materialized back into grip as though nothing had occurred. Such a simple feat for the man that would make many common folk think he was much more powerful than in reality.

How strange it was, to think how far the war had corrupted innocence. Perhaps if a Keen came to him spouting off nonsense about trees coming to life and decimating a population, he would have laughed it off as psychosis. Now? That would be one of the least strange things he had seen or heard of. Of course he believed Rizzrack, there was no reason not to. It was this thought that brought Nortrom back to what was said, and while still annoyed he did feel a tinge of remorse…

“If you’re wishing to delve deeper into what may have transpired, while keeping an open mind to dissenting opinion, you may seek me out. Believe it or not, I don’t despise you Rizzrack.” Back turned, the man started to walk away.

Rizzrack

Nortrom’s kick-off sends the suit staggering back, and the small-Keen quickly fumbles for the controls to regain balance before it tips over. Another jolt in his heart from the fear of falling over, he finds himself quickly tiring of it. An exhausted sigh and shoulders slump forward as he glares at the embedded glaive until it returns to its owner. Nothing left to keep the two of them in each other’s vicinity. It would be better for him to head off anyways and calm his rattled nerves by making some repairs to the suit. An activity that may prove difficult with the strange hurricane of thoughts and feelings swirling about in his head.

So confusing. He didn’t like it, and in typical Rizzrack fashion, the best way to handle scary confusing things was to avoid it.

Stupid Silencer. Thinks he knows everything but he just doesn’t get it.

You stubborn creature.

Rizzrack’s head hangs low, the brim of his helmet shadowing the tears that welled in his eyes but his long face still easily tells of his hurt feelings. Finding no other reason to hang around any longer, his hands go for the controls but Nortrom’s words hold him still. He would have rolled his eyes and scoffed at the man, but he didn’t. Instead he only thinks about it, givesa loud exasperated sigh, then turns the suit about and walks it off.

“Let’s just forget this happened.”

[quirkydahlias]

Hi, I read the Kirishima fic you did and I love the more serious/adult setting for it! I was wondering if you’d be willing to write more about it? Like maybe a scenario where bakugou has an s/o who is devastated about not being able to save some civilians in a villain attack and how’d he go about helping them deal with that? Thanks!

bruh, my Long Road Ahead AU makes me so inspired to write you can’t comprehend the happiness I have when writing for my AU. Anyway. Sorry for the wait, I was busy doing old requests u w u! Hopefully, this makes up for it~.

Also: TW for Mature themes like Death, Wishing for Death, Survivor’s Guilt

Fallout (Katsuki Bakugou x Reader) (Long Road Ahead AU)

The story was plastered all over the news.

Every news channel.

Every paper.

Every major radio station.

All reporting the same thing.

“The pro heroes have failed us once again!”

“Shut down the hero programs in schools!”

“This is why we need more police!”

Bakugou shut off the TV irritably, knowing full well that if he left it running, he’d throw the controller and crack the screen… again. Not that he cared much for television anymore, with all the anti-hero propaganda that has been circulating as of late.

All Might was gone.

Dead 

And with his death, trust in pro heroes across the world died as well.

Emboldened by the loss of such an important figure in hero society, the League grew and crime spread like wildfire, crime becoming increasingly violent and common. So it was inevitable that the pro heroes slipped up eventually. However, such mistakes are not only costly but corrosive to the already crumbling reputation of heroes.

That was the main reason why (Y/N) lay on the couch, head, and arm bandaged, eyes glued to the black void of the television. “I was watching that.” 

Their voice sounded monotone and dead. From the glassy look in their eyes, Katsuki could figure that they weren’t truly paying attention to what was on the TV. Regardless, he wasn’t about to have that kind of talk float around their head.

“Sucks.” he shrugged, maintaining control of the TV from the kitchen counter as he continued to dice carrots.

(Y/N) lifted their head from the couch cushion, giving a pointed look at their boyfriend. Feeling their gaze, Bakugou looked up, the two sharing a rather passive-aggressive stare.

“I mean it, Katsuki,” (Y/N) reiterated, stressing each word to get their point across. “I need to see what’s on the news.” However, Bakugou wasn’t having it, the ash blond just shaking his head before turning his attention back to the cutting board and the potatoes and carrots he was adding to a pot on the stove.

“No, you fucking don’t. All you’re trying to do is punishing yourself by making yourself listen to the media rant about you.” Returning to his cutting board, he used every syllable he uttered to slam his knife down on the poor proteins, venting his irritation through cooking. “Besides, they’re making the situation seem worse than how it actually is.”

A deafening silence made itself at home between the couple, unspoken thoughts hanging in the stale air.

“Megumi.”

“What?” He replied, adding the proteins to the pot as well before giving the mixture a good stir.

“Megumi. Megumi Ito.”

“What are you talking about?” Although, being as sharp as he was, Katuski already had developed a small hunch as to what his partner was alluding to.

“Did you know that was the name was the girl that died in my arms?”

He figured that the name belonged to someone in the villain attack. Though the hours of news running clued him in on what was going on. Without the best response in mind, he opted to remain silent and let (Y/N) vent a little.

“There were so many others, but she was the one who died in front of me. Katsuki, do you know what she told me before she died?”

“What?” he asked, voice quiet, barely audible and for once, without the usual hint of attitude he usually accompanied with his words.

“ ‘I’m scared, please…’” (Y/N) looked distant, settling back down on their side, cheek pressed against their pillow, “She kept repeating the same thing over and over and over again, ‘please’. Again and again before she finally… went silent.”

Bakugou knew better than to open up his trap, instead, leaving the pot on a low flame before seating himself in the living room on the couch, (Y/N)’s legs now draped over his lap.

“So many people died because I didn’t do enough,” (Y/N) hissed, a tight, clench on the pillow they rested their head on. “I had to tell Megumi’s parents after the accident, about her death, I mean. Bakugou, I didn’t even know her name!”

(Y/N) suddenly stopped, unable to speak as Bakugou roughly grabbed their arm, yanking them into his tight embrace as he awkwardly wrapped his arms around them. Tears finally streamed down their cheeks, pressing their face against his broad chest.

“Just shut up for a sec,” Katsuki instructed, leaning in to rest his chin on their head, “You’re breathing like you just fucking ran a marathon.”

While even Bakugou would admit that the way he tried to calm (Y/N) down was harsh- to say the least, it’s beyond obvious that he’s was trying his best.

“I…I…,” So much wanted to come out. Whether it was the feelings of guilt, eating away at (Y/N) heart, the burning shame of failure charring their skin, or the increasing anger bubbling in them, all pointed at their failure to save innocents in their time of need.

“Look at me,” Katsuki whispered, his gaze softening a little as he released his tight grip on them, pulling away.

It took a while, (Y/N) not wanting to look so pathetic in front of their partner. Furiously using their sleeve to rub their eyes and sniffling, they blinked once. Then once again, trying to quickly wipe away any tears that threatened to form- in the same way, windshield wipers frantically swish back and forth to wash away the rain.

Once they collected themselves, (Y/N) managed to look up and lock eyes with Bakugou. They licked their chapped lips and with a rather pitiful look spoke up.

“I should have died instead.”

Okay.

Okay.

It was one thing to feel guilty about the attack and to be second-guessing oneself when looking back on the accident.

It was another to want to be hurt- to be killed, in order to “atone” for a simple slip up.

Whatever Katsuki felt something else boiling inside him, something different from the anger entirely.

Looking into (Y/N)’s eyes, the first image that came to mind was his old high school heroics teacher, All Might. The fucker’s ever-present grin, gone. Blood dripping down the side of his face- all for the sake of his kidnapped student.

The anguish, sadness, guilt. All in (Y/N)’s eyes were once his.

He knew exactly what they were going through, to want to turn things back. To wish for time to reverse, if only they could prevent tragedy. Being forced to live with the weight of failure for the rest of their lives. He’d been there.

The similarities between them giving Bakugou a boost of confidence, finally knowing how to handle the situation.

To comfort the way he could only wish he was comforted then.

Bakugou knew that the delivery had to be right, and different than the way he’d prefer it, for (Y/N)’s sake. This level of…survivor’s guilt, for lack of a better word, was fresher, more intense than the guilt he felt for taking down the number one hero…because at the very least, All Might made it out alive.

Using his thumb, Katsuki wiped away the tears beading in the corners of (Y/N)’s eyes. Then he cracked a small, lopsided smile.

And patted them on the head.

(Y/N) blinked, stopping all train of thought as they furrowed their brows at Katsuki’s uncharacteristic behavior. He wasn’t the type to be… physically affectionate. At least in this manner anyway, so why the sudden-

Another pat.

And then another.

As he patted their head, Katsuki used his other hand and snaked his hand around their waist and to the small of their back, pulling his partner into a small hug.

“Listen.” He started, thankful that this position prevented (Y/N) from seeing how red his ears and face were. “We’re going to make it through this.”

“Bakugou…”

“Shut it. You’re stronger than this. I know you fucking are, got it? You’re too fucking tough to let one mistake define you.” He stopped patting, awkwardly and slowly running his hand down (Y/N)’s spine, soothing their nerves. “I get it, you feel like shit for being the one to walk away from something like this, especially when someone else doesn’t.”

He stopped moving altogether, trying to figure out whether or not he should even bring up All Might as a way of saying, “Hey, I was there too!”. However, he ultimately decided against it, preferring to make this more about (Y/N) than himself. Besides, he dug deep enough into old wounds already at this point.

“But you’re gonna pick your ass up and keep pushing forward, if not for yourself or me…for Ito. For every damn person in that fucking accident, you save another 100. Understand?”

(Y/N) nodded- Katsuki’s fiery language and spurring little speech warming them from the inside out, their cheeks heating a bit when they felt his lips on the top of their head.

“The media’s been riding your ass for days now,” He pulled back, immediately adverting his eyes to save face in front of his partner, though it just made him look even more endearing, “What they say doesn’t and won’t fucking matter to you, me, or any self-respecting hero.”

“So let those extras curse you out and drag heroes through the mud all they fucking want, we’re still gonna do our jobs. Sound good?” He asked, raising his fist up at (Y/N)

(Y/N) cracked a small smile, happy tears beginning to form as they bumped their fist against their boyfriend.

“Sounds good.”

Bonus (Because that was way too sad for too long):

“Here,” Katsuki started, having dragged (Y/N)’s ass to get some food into them. “You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

“Oh?” (Y/N) peered down at the plate in front of them, a bed of rice with some curry was presented before them. And as nice as it looked, something just felt off about it. “This looks pretty good~.”

“’Course it fucking is. I made it, dumbass. Just try it.” He quickly turned his back to his partner, plating himself a big helping of curry as well, “It’s one of my favorite comfort foods.”

Together, the dug in, (Y/N) being convinced that the food was alright considering how Bakugou dug into his meal. Following suit, they popped the curry into their mouth right before…

Wanting to pop it right back out.

“Katsuki!” (Y/N) hissed, immediately sitting up from the counter and rushing around and into the kitchen to get water. Milk. Anything at this point. “Ish so fuckin’ hawt!”

At this point, their tongue was numb, thanks to the increased spice, (Y/N) fortunate enough that there was a bottle of water in the fridge to down while Bakugou raised an eyebrow to the scene before him.

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” Bakugou deadpanned, eating another spoonful of the spicy curry as if it was nothing, “I even lowered the spice level for you.”

He could feel the silent waves of anger radiating off of (Y/N), which only amused him, even more, to see how much they wanted to scold and yell at him and yet, were unable to as they emptied the bottle.

“Fuck,” They panted, taking in air through their mouth in a futile attempt to quench the metaphorical flames, “You.”

“You’re fucking lucky I added the spice separately. Give me your food and I’ll finish it for you. Then you can get some from the pot.” he instructed before he lowered his voice a bit, taking in another spoonful of curry goodness.

“Pussy.”

“I heard that!”

[stopharassmentinssports]

Op-Ed: Inconspicuous, Not Insignificant

I hope you have paid attention to the countless accusation’s athletes have made regarding sexual assault in their respective sports. You likely have seen social media platforms discussing the aspects of these accusations. The perpetrator could have been a coach, staff member, or a fellow athlete. You may have heard of these acts, but you probably did not go and research any particular case. Chances are, you also did not reflect on any of the significant number of cases to help yourself bring awareness of sexual assault within your sport of choice, whether you watch or participate.

The cases you have seen are the tip of the iceberg compared to the total amount of cases of sexual assault in sports. So many cases go unreported and unnoticed.  Why is that?  Assault charges and cases in sports go unnoticed possibly because it is difficult to determine exactly how many cases of sexual assault are not reported by the victims.  However, given the lack of available statistics, a number of anonymous surveys suggest the problem is much bigger than is being reported. An article titled Sexual Assault of Young Athletes stated, “2%-8% of children are currently being sexually assaulted in the context of sports”. That data demonstrates that approximately 2 out of every 25 minors in sports are sexually assaulted or harassed in some way. It is very difficult to get exact data on sexual assault at college level sports because there are certain laws that do not allow that information to be open to the public. But with some of the cases discussed later, it shows that sexual assault is happening at that level, as well.

It could also possibly be that there is little press on these cases because no charges have been filed against the perpetrator. Some victims, understandably, want to go through the process of identification and reporting quickly and quietly. But it also may suggest no one really cares about sexual assault in sports. Or maybe no one is holding these perpetrators accountable for their disgusting actions at all. Or there could possibly be some sort of bias towards these victims of sexual abuse in their sport.

We may never know what is truly going on with sexual assault in sports because of the very small number of reported cases, but we can hope that people are beginning to awaken to an understanding that these vile actions come with vile consequences. We need more press on these topics because it will be the only way for athletes, and the communities surrounding them, to truly learn that they are being seen and heard and allow those indirectly affected to reflect on the problem of these sexual assaults in sports cases.

The Opposite Argument

Some may say that there are good and valid reason why these situations and cases of sexual assault in sports are not and should not be in the mainstream media. Their main reasoning seems to argue that giving the cases of sexual assault in sports a prominent space in public reporting would fundamentally change the way we look at sports or perceive certain athletes.

We idolize our sports heroes, including coaches, and though we know they are human and fallible we absolutely don’t want them to be so.  Indeed, in many ways our society has chosen to use sports as an escape from some of the harsh realities of life.  These instances of abuse, then, invade that ‘escape.’  In addition, some might also argue that we are actually protecting the victims by discouraging publicity.

My Argument

“You Either Die A Hero, Or You Live Long Enough To See Yourself Become The Villain”        

— Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight

The answer to the opposing argument is, yes, of course, more publicity is going to change how we look at sports and certain athletes. When there is justice for these victims, especially where the perpetrator is otherwise well-loved by the media and spectators, the community should roundly turn on them and condemn their actions because their “god”-like status is a revocable gift that has meaning and consequences.

It can and must change for the better. That day will only be worth celebrating when the perpetrators are banned from their sport, lose their job, tarnish their reputation, and/or have extreme media backlash. If an athlete, coach, or staff member does choose to sexually assault someone, they deserve to be punished. Such punishment should come swiftly and completely.

The most publicly, well-known, sexual assault cases in sports are cases that could have some sort of “appeal” factor.  These cases might draw more of an audience than cases of sexual assault that do not have that same variable. The factor could include a celebrity athlete being the predator or the victim, the situation or event that relates to the assault, or anything that will make a good headline.

Throughout my time researching cases, observing people’s and the media’s responses to sexual assault in sports, it seems as though there might be some sort of bias. There is a positive bias that could be towards sports, the positivity of sports, and what sports do for individuals.  

With the love of this sport, there absolutely is a bias that blinds what is happening behind closed doors in their beloved sport: sexual assault, harassment and discrimination. Some try very hard to “look on the bright side” of everything and only look at the positive. What I have theorized is that some almost purposefully “skip over” or do not look at the information that could possibly change the overall view of sports.

Those individuals do not want change in viewpoints because they do not want anything to “distract” them from what is really important, the actual playing of the sports. The assault and harassment forces people to look at sports for what they really can be, flawed. Just like any system that is praised for its excellence.

We ultimately have to change this “look on the bright side” view because it is invalidating these victims’ trauma and enabling further abuse. Those who have been assaulted by the coaches, fellow athletes, or sport staff members are looking for justice. We have to care, show empathy, and change our mindset so we can prevent any further form of assault or harassment in these sports.

Larry Nassar v. Scott Shaw

The main difference between the sexual assault case of Larry Nassar and Scott Shaw is how widespread their actions are known. Even if someone is not part of the sports community, they inevitably know what happened with Larry Nassar. Even if someone is part of the sports community, they likely don’t know what happened with Scott Shaw.

Larry Nassar was a U.S. Gymnastics physician from Michigan. A lawsuit filed in 2016, which became more public in 2018, alleged that he sexually assaulted over “250 women and girls dating back to 1992”. Nassar is now serving his life sentence for those crimes.

Scott Shaw was an athletic trainer for the women’s swimming team at San Jose University. He has been accused of sexual assault by over 17 female swimmers since 2009. There have been NO charges filed against h im and he WAS NOT fired from his position as an athletic trainer. He actually resigned from this position on September 2nd, after old and new allegations were revisited by a new administrator.  

To be certain, there is a difference between the numbers of females sexually assaulted by each of these men. Does the number of victims really define how much sympathy towards the perpetrator we show? Are we really talking about showing sympathy towards sexual predators in specific sports? Why is the media so focused on numbers? Even one assaulted athlete should engender significant community outrage.  Why are overwhelming and shocking numbers required?  Are we so desensitized that only catastrophic loss is worthy of attention?

Heightened media coverage of these sexual assault cases does not mean that it is the “worst case we have seen so far”. Heightened media coverage merely means that there is a certain aspect of the assaults that is eye catching to most of the population. In Larry Nassar’s sexual assault case, Aly Raisman, Gabby Douglas, and Simone Biles are some of the most well-known Olympic gymnasts in the world who came forward in the media with their experience of assault with Larry Nassar.

Scott Shaw’s case did not grab most of the media’s attention because there have been no official charges filed, no legally recognized “proof”, and no current investigations. Therefore, no appeal. Seriously? We can do better.

What follows is what media is not showing you. Even though these cases are not mainstream, they are still so extremely important.

Jerry Sandusky v. “The Unknown”

Jerry Sandusky was the founder of the organization The Second Mile, which helped care for young boys who have an absent father figure in their life. He was also the former President of Penn State University. He was convicted of 8 counts of involuntary deviate sexual intercourse, 7 counts of indecent assault, 1 count of criminal intent to commit indecent assault, 9 counts of unlawful contact with minors, 10 counts of corruption of minors and 10 counts of endangering the welfare of children. That is 45 total charges against him.

I am comparing the case of Jerry Sandusky to “The Unknown” (an “as yet undisclosed” assault).  Based on what we do know, there is inevitably another case like it, but no one has talked about it and there is no media attention about it. We know that there are more sexual assault cases in the United States and in the world that have not yet come to light. That is the media’s fault for not digging into and fully covering these topics and our fault for not insisting that they include such stories. We absolutely must talk about these incidents otherwise they are going to be repeated endlessly without any meaningful change.

High profile cases shine a light on what the public might actually be interested in, a compelling story (often defined by its extreme and horrific level of tragedy). It absolutely can be something to tell your children for which to watch out. Something that will scare them enough so that it impacts their child to the point where they will learn from it. Something that will teach them how to respond to these types of dangerous situations. This is a positive side effect of a terrible case, but can it really be that this is the only way to educate and reach large numbers of people? I hope that is not true.  We do this work to ensure it will never be true.  We have to learn to make ourselves care about the smaller and less high-profile cases or we will never stop the big ones.

What You Can Do to Help This Cause

The best thing for you to do to help this cause is talk to every athlete you know and those close to them about this problem and how to identify and avoid it.  In addition, do your research and write columns, letters to the editor, or suggestions to media outlets to bring attention to the countless cases of sexual assault. Just because these cases might be inconspicuous does not mean the cases should remain insignificant in our consciousness. We must demand that the media and ourselves care about these sexual assault cases in sports, or else nothing will change in our society. Change is necessary to prevent our children, and their children from being put in these traumatic positions.

[danausbutterfly-blog]

🖤

everybody knows (superhero’s)

idolized and revered by many everybody knows how the story’s goes fantasies and lore follows be hide the ones that can stand the test of time following a path many can’t from holding the bane memory of your life’s existence where many will love you for it there will be many that hate you for the same reason because everybody knows your no good

for the curse holds a gift you didn’t ask for one you only you can describe to the man/women you face in the mirror the curse for all the things you can’t change the life and death be hide the secret identities that defies the laws of man and the righteous acts you practice and preach but can’t follow yourself because everybody knows your no good

chasing the lawless and evil you forget sacrifices must be made ones a mortal man can’t bare to make themselves but maybe the harder it gets the more you realize the more immortal you become the more mortal life seems to you for your willingness to give into a life of sanity is just as pitiful as the ones who have a willingness to give into the insanity of it all because everybody knows your no good

crossing boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed for the sake of mankind’s or your own selfishness into account how do you decide who lives and dies are you a god or king or are you mark with the same balefulness as the ones you leave underneath your feet because the end of a era means a new ruler must steps into the spotlight and yours fade and you can’t have that because everybody knows your no good

show us who you really are i know it has become harder because you two are wanting to know who you are hiding be hide the mask because you are afraid of realizing what we all already know your afraid of the man you’ve become the enigma be hide the answer to the question isn’t who you are anymore it’s what have you become because everybody knows your no good

nothing truly changes when a mans loses his mine nor does it change when he finds it the trouble of destiny always finds a way to define who we really are no matter if you hide be hide a mask or you want to burn the world to the ground we are all homicidal maniacs we all look the same we all live and die the same you either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain

because everybody knows your no good and you know you know it to.

- Raven Byrd

[oumakokichi]

I find what Saihara says at the end of Ouma's last FTE pretty interesting? (credit to @ kaibutsushidousha for the tl) "The day I’ll understand Ouma-kun seems to be never coming. Because even if reach my hand towards him…he will not pull me nor let himself be pulled by me."... it made me quite sad because even in his FTEs he's so guarded that he will never let anyone get close enough to him...

I agree with you, anon! That particular line in Ouma’s last FTEis probably one of my favorite lines in the entirety of ndrv3, and definitelymy favorite line when applied to saiouma as a ship. It’s a line that I feel ispivotal to all their interactions, both in the FTEs and in the plot in general,and explains how they feel about each other and also why it’s so hard for Ouma to be understood, and for Saihara tounderstand the messages that Ouma is trying to send him.

In the course of Ouma’s FTEs, there’s quite a lot that hedoes manage to get across to Saihara…and also so much that Saihara still sortof fails to grasp, even when the hints are all there, because Ouma is much tooguarded and much too unwilling to trust to just come right out and say it, evenwhen it would make things so much easier.

Looking through all of Ouma’s FTEs, the truth about hisentire character was right there all along. The fact that he’s a mischievous pranksterat heart and not an evil supreme leader, the fact that he gets by mostly bybluffing and doesn’t actually want to kill anyone (least of all Saihara), thefact that he’s not even playing to win the games he challenges Saihara to inthe conventional sense, but ultimately has a different objective altogether—allof these things mimic facts about Ouma that we learn throughout the plotitself. Ouma really isn’t the mastermind, he did hate the killing game allalong, and his objective was never to kill anyone, but to end the killing gameentirely.

Even the fact that Ouma was willing to hurt himself in order to put his “game” withSaihara to an end ultimately mimics his final decision in Chapter 5 to lethimself be killed rather than continuing on at the expense of throwing theentire rest of the group under the bus. All of these things were included verydeliberately and very intentionally as clues to the player and to Saihara—but ofcourse, they’re mostly only visible when you already know what’s coming, and toSaihara, who doesn’t have the benefit of hindsight, all these very big cluesand hints seem like little more than Ouma “messing with him” or “not taking himseriously.”

It’s sad, seeinghow genuinely happy Ouma is whenever Saihara surpasses his expectations orcontinues to hang out with him even though it would be “easier” or “safer” tojust stop hanging out with Ouma altogether, because then “Ouma wouldn’t have tokill him.” He really, honestly loves the fact that Saihara is someone he can’tquite figure out, because even though it frustrates him, it’s fun. It’s adeviation from the boredom that he experiences almost all the time otherwise.

Saihara’s ability to really, genuinely improve himself andstep up to a protagonist role he was “never meant for” impresses him, and makeshim want to continue teasing him, leaving him riddles to solve, dropping hints,challenging him to continue being even better at solving these mysteries—butthe whole way through, he knows it’s a very transient friendship, and notsomething he’s going to allow himself to get attached to, because attachmentmeans clouding his judgment, and trust means putting himself at risk.

Saiouma hurts me because it’s this ship with so much goodinteraction between the characters on both sides, and so much potential andthings to work through but also so many ways in which they both genuinelyimpressed and interested one another as people…and then it has to end on thisnote of no-closure, because Ouma won’t let there be closure.

He’s fine teasing people and inviting them to come solvehim, the individual, as a mystery if they can, but he’s not comfortable with anyoneactually giving it a shot, and he does metaphorically slam the door on thatopportunity, because even if Saihara could figure him out and understand him completely,Ouma still wouldn’t be able to bring himself to trust him all the way, and fromhis perspective, being fully trusted and understood by someone else is only aliability if you can’t bring yourself to trust them in return.

It hurts all the more because even though Saihara can’t seethe bigger picture, he clearly can see, prior to Chapter 4 at least, that Oumais clearly leading him to something,and trying to get him to think about the world around him in ways he ordinarilywouldn’t have thought of. Even if it’s impossible for him to understand whyOuma does the things he does entirely, he clearly could see that Ouma had tohave underlying motivations for why he acted the way he did, and he wanted tounderstand the rest.

But he’s also very aware of the fact that Ouma just isn’tletting him. The line about their hands not reaching, and about Ouma notletting himself be pulled, is so completely central to everything about saioumaas a ship. Because even if he were to suddenly understand everything at once,or even if he tried a much simpler approach and just reached out to Ouma andasked him to drop the ruse completely and open up…it would never happen. Oumawouldn’t let it happen.

And Ouma wants to be understood, clearly, because again: youdon’t drop hints to a mystery you don’t want to be solved. You don’t make itinto a riddle at all if you want it to be impossible for anyone to solve. Thefact alone that he keeps trying to push Saihara more than anyone else to solvethese things, to notice things about him, meant that somewhere deep down, eventhough he really didn’t want to get attached, he clearly already was attached, or else he would neverhave acted like such a prank-loving child and wanted to hang out with Saiharaso badly for so long.

But no matter how much he wanted that level ofunderstanding, he still felt it was impossible, and it really did become aself-fulfilling prophecy. People can only help you if you let them help you.Even if someone reaches out to you, you still have to be the one to reach yourhand out and take theirs when it’s offered. And Ouma was not a person who couldreach his hand out, because there were too many risks attached—and Saiharacould tell. And it just really, really makes me sad, but it is so good aspotential for a ship because there’s so many ways in which their dynamic couldhave progressed and developed if only Ouma had been a survivor.

Ouma’s character is defined by lies and deception, and howthese things are generally perceived as “bad” or “evil” but aren’t necessarilyso. His line in Chapter 4’s trial, about how lies have “infinitely morepossibilities than a single unchanging truth,” really illuminates his entiremindset, because it’s true that Ouma is at heart someone who would much ratherleave other’s lies and disguises untouched, because he knows, and saysdirectly, that there are many lies “which are told to comfort others,” or “toldin order not to hurt others.”

Compared to that, the truth just hurts. It’s a weapon. Inndrv3, this is really and truly the case, considering the truth of the outsideworld is a horrible, unyielding thing which cannot be refuted and which causespretty much all of the characters who discover it to very nearly give up theirwill to live immediately.

It’s not an accident that the skill you get by completingOuma’s FTEs is called “Gentle Lie.” Ouma steels himself and ultimately hurtsothers throughout the game more by exposing their own lies than by lying tothem himself; he jumps on their deceptions the moment he senses them and “tearsout the guts” (if you’ll excuse my Umineko language), but not because it’ssomething he likes to do. When the characters refuse to believe anything hesays or notice any of his intentions, it’s actually ironic that he has to relyon unavoidable truths and things they can’t escape from in order to make themlisten to him.

And as someone who doesn’t like relying on the truth if hecan help it, and who is very much aware of the fact that truth can often hurtfar worse than “gentle lies,” that’s exactly why Ouma doesn’t want to letanything about himself be exposed. The only person he’s willing to trust fullyin the killing game is himself, and even then, there comes a time when hecrosses so many lines and stains his hands so much that he himself believesthat everyone’s perception of him as a horrible, ruthless villain is actuallycorrect. So there’s no way he’ll ever take a chance on any of the rest of themand let them in, because there’s always that chance that he’ll come to regretever taking that risk.

Thank you so much for bringing up this line, anon—it reallyis my favorite. Saiouma hurts me a lot and I love it as a shipping dynamic, andI’m still so sad that there’s this kind of super bittersweet lack of closureabout them even though I also really love it thematically.

[psychotherapyconsultants]

Depression and the Chinese Finger Trap

“No feeling is final.” — Rainer Maria Rilke

I’ve battled depression for most of my life. In my younger years, it gripped me pretty frequently. I was first hit with suicidal thoughts at the age of fifteen, and it scared the bejesus out of me. I was young and dumb and had no idea what was happening.

When I was twenty-five it hit again. This time, however, I understood the cause. I was getting divorced, and my entire life was in turmoil.

It was at this time that I decided that I was going to do something about it. So, I dove into the world of personal development. I read every book I could get my hands on.

The following are some realizations I’ve had about depression and what’s helped me break free from it. This may not work for everyone, but perhaps there’s something here that can help you.

Depression is like a Chinese finger trap: the more you try to get free, the more trapped you become.

When I was younger, I would try to fight my feelings. I believed in facing my challenges head on. As any young man would do, I would see myself as the hero of my own story and depression as the villain.

The last time it hit me, however, I wasn’t nearly as brazen. I laid in my bed and the feeling washed over me like a flood. One minute I was okay, and the next I was going haywire.

All I could think about was killing myself. And the crazy part of that is that I had a great life, and that I didn’t want to actually do it. I just wanted the intensity to end. I wanted to be free from the feelings that penetrated everything I did.

Depression is like a Chinese finger trap. The more you fight it, the more it gets you in its grasp. And the only way to get out is to do the very thing that you intuitively feel is wrong.

You only get free from depression when you lean into it.

I know that goes against every piece of self-help advice that exists. But depression is a different animal. You can’t positive-think your way out of depression because this kind of mental battle is a big part of what causes depression in the first place. Obsessing over your thoughts keeps you stuck in your head.

It’s a trap of the most frustrating form because your attempts at defeating depression often serve to keep it firmly in place. In other words, your resistance to depression causes it to strengthen its grip on you.

There is a concept in psychology and cognitive behavior therapy (CBT) called “exposure therapy.” The idea is that the more you expose yourself to the thing you fear, the less intimidating and fearful that thing becomes.

I was able to get over my fear of snakes in this manner. One summer I made the goal to hike a certain trail near my house. However, the trail constantly had snakes on it, and I was deathly afraid of them.

I didn’t want to give up on my hiking goals, so I forced myself to walk past the snakes. Eventually I realized that they are relatively harmless and won’t bother you unless you bother them.

Do you fear your depression? I know I did, especially when it became so bad that suicidal thoughts would creep in. I would spend many a night in bed just lying like a brick, afraid to move because I was scared that I would do something to hurt myself.

When you lean into your feelings, they dissipate.

And thus is the wisdom of the Chinese finger trap. The only way out is to lean in. To stop fearing what you feel and start facing what you feel.

When I started thinking about the things that may have been causing my depression instead of the things I thought could cure it, I got a better understanding of what my depression was.

I saw that things like negative core beliefs and unhappiness with my career and finances were contributing to my depression, and that I needed to deal with those things. Depression, then, was more of a symptom of the real problem rather than the source.

You don’t beat this enemy by fighting him. You beat him by standing in front of him and telling him that you are not afraid. And then you deal with the things that make him strong.

I liken depression to a storm. It will hit you all at once, but it won’t stay around forever. If you wait long enough, the feelings will pass. And what is left after the feelings pass is in your hands.

You can choose to let the storm of depression keep you in a depressed state even when the actual feelings aren’t there. Or you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward.

Leaning into your feelings releases their power over you, but you still need to wiggle yourself free after you release your feelings.

This is probably the most important part of dealing with depression.

It’s not enough to just face your feelings and lean into them. If you’ve ever played with a Chinese finger trap, you eventually realized that to release its grip on your fingers, you had to push them further into the trap. However, to truly get your fingers free, you had to wiggle them back out slowly.

This is exactly what depression is like. You may not have control over when depression strikes. You may even need medication to deal with it. But you can control what you do when you’re depressed, and you can break free. I am proof of that. I’ve battled this feeling, this inexplicable feeling, for most of my life. But I now know what true joy and true happiness is.

You can know joy too. You can get past depression when it hits. You don’t have to let it define you any longer.

How do you wiggle free? I use a process of deep introspection, mindfulness, and work toward a powerful purpose in my life.

At the root of my depression were the most insecure and sensitive things I thought about myself. This is true for many of us. These beliefs run under the surface of our psyche like a motor. Pay attention to the things that make you emotional and look for the beliefs you have about yourself that are behind them.

For example, I used to feel shame whenever someone would single me out in front of others. While this is a common feeling for people, I looked for the belief that may have been fueling that. I discovered that underneath it all was an old belief from childhood: “I am bad.”

Now, when I recognize that this belief is surfacing, I remind myself that it’s human to make mistakes sometimes, and that doesn’t make me a bad person. This prevents me from spiraling into a shame cycle, which can easily lead to a depressed state.

You have negative beliefs about yourself as well, and, while it’s an extremely emotional process facing them, it’s also cathartic. Find someone you trust and talk to them about these thoughts and feelings. Or journal about them to understand why you formed them and how you can let them go.

Another powerful tactic for wiggling free from depression is mindfulness. I like to solve puzzles or do something creative to take my mind away from the thoughts that depression causes me to have.

Note that this isn’t meant as a way to avoid your problems. Depressed thoughts are like a tape that plays automatically in the back of your mind. When you immerse yourself in an activity, you interrupt that tape and break the negative cycle so that you’re no longer fixated on negative thoughts (which is akin to pushing your finger deeper into the trap).

It’s also helped me to fix my finances. They say that money can’t buy happiness, but that’s not the entire truth. According to this study, our income can actually increase our happiness up to a certain amount, since it’s easier to be happy when we’re not struggling to survive.

To fix my finances, I stopped wasting money on things that weren’t bringing me joy (such as a cable subscription) and focused on ways to increase my income. I learned pretty quickly that, although being rich doesn’t make you happy, I feel a lot more at ease when I’m not living paycheck to paycheck.

Lastly, I’ve focused on finding meaningful work. One of the biggest culprits of depression is a feeling of hopelessness and despair. So, finding meaningful work or a deeply personal life purpose will do wonders. For more information on finding meaning, check out Viktor Frankl’s book A Man’s Search for Meaning.

In my case, I found that the career I was in was making me more depressed. I was an engineer, but the long days sitting in a cubicle were driving me mad. I wanted a career where I felt like I was doing something that mattered.

So, I went back to school and became certified to teach. I ramped up my writing career and started freelance writing. I did more of the work that I loved to do. When you do more of the work that you love to do, you become more of the person you want to be, which makes you a lot happier with yourself and your life.

And that leads me to the final point…

You are not your depression. You are the person who is feeling depressed.

Until I realized this, I was seeing myself as a depressed person, and I was allowing it to define me.

You are not your feelings. Stand in front of a mirror and shout that to yourself. Scream it to the world. You are more than that.

You are whatever you choose to be. See the possibilities of who you can be and move toward those things. Don’t let depression beat you up and keep you trapped. The door is open. All you have to do is walk through it.

*Disclaimer: Depression can have many different causes, and different people may need to take different approaches to healing. Don’t be afraid to seek professional help if nothing else has worked for you. There’s no shame in needing or accepting support!

This post is courtesy of Tiny Buddha.

from World of Psychology https://psychcentral.com/blog/depression-and-the-chinese-finger-trap/

[sarahburness]

How I’ve Learned to Free Myself from Depression When It Hits

“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.” ~Chuck Palahniuk, Diary

I’ve battled depression for most of my life. In my younger years, it gripped me pretty frequently. I was first hit with suicidal thoughts at the age of fifteen, and it scared the bejesus out of me. I was young and dumb and had no idea what was happening.

When I was twenty-five it hit again. This time, however, I understood the cause. I was getting divorced, and my entire life was in turmoil.

It was at this time that I decided that I was going to do something about it. So, I dove into the world of personal development. I read every book I could get my hands on.

The following are some realizations I’ve had about depression and what's helped me break free from it. This may not work for everyone, but perhaps there’s something here that can help you.

Depression is like a Chinese finger trap: the more you try to get free, the more trapped you become.

When I was younger, I would try to fight my feelings. I believed in facing my challenges head on. As any young man would do, I would see myself as the hero of my own story and depression as the villain.

The last time it hit me, however, I wasn’t nearly as brazen. I laid in my bed and the feeling washed over me like a flood. One minute I was okay, and the next I was going haywire.

All I could think about was killing myself. And the crazy part of that is that I had a great life, and that I didn’t want to actually do it. I just wanted the intensity to end. I wanted to be free from the feelings that penetrated everything I did.

Depression is like a Chinese finger trap. The more you fight it, the more it gets you in its grasp. And the only way to get out is to do the very thing that you intuitively feel is wrong.

You only get free from depression when you lean into it.

I know that goes against every piece of self-help advice that exists. But depression is a different animal. You can’t positive-think your way out of depression because this kind of mental battle is a big part of what causes depression in the first place. Obsessing over your thoughts keeps you stuck in your head.

It’s a trap of the most frustrating form because your attempts at defeating depression often serve to keep it firmly in place. In other words, your resistance to depression causes it to strengthen its grip on you.

There is a concept in psychology and cognitive behavior therapy (CBT) called “exposure therapy.” The idea is that the more you expose yourself to the thing you fear, the less intimidating and fearful that thing becomes.

I was able to get over my fear of snakes in this manner. One summer I made the goal to hike a certain trail near my house. However, the trail constantly had snakes on it, and I was deathly afraid of them.

I didn’t want to give up on my hiking goals, so I forced myself to walk past the snakes. Eventually I realized that they are relatively harmless and won’t bother you unless you bother them.

Do you fear your depression? I know I did, especially when it became so bad that suicidal thoughts would creep in. I would spend many a night in bed just lying like a brick, afraid to move because I was scared that I would do something to hurt myself.

When you lean into your feelings, they dissipate.

And thus is the wisdom of the Chinese finger trap. The only way out is to lean in. To stop fearing what you feel and start facing what you feel.

When I started thinking about the things that may have been causing my depression instead of the things I thought could cure it, I got a better understanding of what my depression was.

I saw that things like negative core beliefs and unhappiness with my career and finances were contributing to my depression, and that I needed to deal with those things. Depression, then, was more of a symptom of the real problem rather than the source.

You don’t beat this enemy by fighting him. You beat him by standing in front of him and telling him that you are not afraid. And then you deal with the things that make him strong.

I liken depression to a storm. It will hit you all at once, but it won’t stay around forever. If you wait long enough, the feelings will pass. And what is left after the feelings pass is in your hands.

You can choose to let the storm of depression keep you in a depressed state even when the actual feelings aren’t there. Or you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward.

Leaning into your feelings releases their power over you, but you still need to wiggle yourself free after you release your feelings.

This is probably the most important part of dealing with depression.

It’s not enough to just face your feelings and lean into them. If you’ve ever played with a Chinese finger trap, you eventually realized that to release its grip on your fingers, you had to push them further into the trap. However, to truly get your fingers free, you had to wiggle them back out slowly.

This is exactly what depression is like. You may not have control over when depression strikes. You may even need medication to deal with it. But you can control what you do when you're depressed, and you can break free. I am proof of that. I’ve battled this feeling, this inexplicable feeling, for most of my life. But I now know what true joy and true happiness is.

You can know joy too. You can get past depression when it hits. You don’t have to let it define you any longer.

How do you wiggle free? I use a process of deep introspection, mindfulness, and work toward a powerful purpose in my life.

At the root of my depression were the most insecure and sensitive things I thought about myself. This is true for many of us. These beliefs run under the surface of our psyche like a motor. Pay attention to the things that make you emotional and look for the beliefs you have about yourself that are behind them.

For example, I used to feel shame whenever someone would single me out in front of others. While this is a common feeling for people, I looked for the belief that may have been fueling that. I discovered that underneath it all was an old belief from childhood: “I am bad.”

Now, when I recognize that this belief is surfacing, I remind myself that it’s human to make mistakes sometimes, and that doesn’t make me a bad person. This prevents me from spiraling into a shame cycle, which can easily lead to a depressed state.

You have negative beliefs about yourself as well, and, while it’s an extremely emotional process facing them, it’s also cathartic. Find someone you trust and talk to them about these thoughts and feelings. Or journal about them to understand why you formed them and how you can let them go.

Another powerful tactic for wiggling free from depression is mindfulness. I like to solve puzzles or do something creative to take my mind away from the thoughts that depression causes me to have.

Note that this isn’t meant as a way to avoid your problems. Depressed thoughts are like a tape that plays automatically in the back of your mind. When you immerse yourself in an activity, you interrupt that tape and break the negative cycle so that you’re no longer fixated on negative thoughts (which is akin to pushing your finger deeper into the trap).

It's also helped me to fix my finances. They say that money can’t buy happiness, but that’s not the entire truth. According to this study, our income can actually increase our happiness up to a certain amount, since it’s easier to be happy when we’re not struggling to survive.

To fix my finances, I stopped wasting money on things that weren’t bringing me joy (such as a cable subscription) and focused on ways to increase my income. I learned pretty quickly that, although being rich doesn’t make you happy, I feel a lot more at ease when I’m not living paycheck to paycheck.

Lastly, I've focused on finding meaningful work. One of the biggest culprits of depression is a feeling of hopelessness and despair. So, finding meaningful work or a deeply personal life purpose will do wonders. For more information on finding meaning, check out Viktor Frankl’s book A Man’s Search for Meaning.

In my case, I found that the career I was in was making me more depressed. I was an engineer, but the long days sitting in a cubicle were driving me mad. I wanted a career where I felt like I was doing something that mattered.

So, I went back to school and became certified to teach. I ramped up my writing career and started freelance writing. I did more of the work that I loved to do. When you do more of the work that you love to do, you become more of the person you want to be, which makes you a lot happier with yourself and your life.

And that leads me to the final point…

You are not your depression. You are the person who is feeling depressed.

Until I realized this, I was seeing myself as a depressed person, and I was allowing it to define me.

You are not your feelings. Stand in front of a mirror and shout that to yourself. Scream it to the world. You are more than that.

You are whatever you choose to be. See the possibilities of who you can be and move toward those things. Don’t let depression beat you up and keep you trapped. The door is open. All you have to do is walk through it.

About James Leatherman

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