#it's been times where i realised i was a result of my circumstances and experiences that were the most freeing

[misophoria]

the threads in my tapestry have been weaved through poison and still carry residues

[whenmemorydies]

Violence and Love in Monkey Man

Dev Patel's Monkey Man has played at my mind for two weeks now. This is for reasons that I'm able to articulate and for many that I probably have not yet been able to find the words for. This post is, in part, my attempt at sorting through some of my thoughts. My tumblr is all spoilers all the time. If you don’t want that, then please don’t read on.

Violence

Like most places in the world, systemic violence is a scourge in India. Monkey Man does not shy away from this reality and depicts Hindu nationalist state violence and violence against women and gendered minorities in the country to chilling effect.

We come to see this in the brutal rape and murder of Kid's activist mother at the hands of the police, while she tries to shield her child and her land from police and state terror. We see it in the treatment of (largely femme-presenting) sex workers in the two brothels featured in the film, including one frequented by the police and political elite. We see it in the violence and ostracisation meted out against the hijra, or third gender community by individual actors and the state more broadly. We see it in the state-orchestrated razing of an entire community after the land on which it sits is declared a "holy site". We see it in the movement of people from the regions to the city after their land has been stolen and the grinding poverty they face as a result.

Unlike so many action films, none of the violence in Monkey Man occurs in a vacuum. Even Kid's original means of making money in an underground fighting ring is done against the backdrop of his forced displacement from regional India to the city - a migration pathway that many in the country have been forced to take and which is a direct result of land theft and resource extraction in the regions by local and multinational corporations as well as federal and state governments.

The truth is that so much in relation to state and societal control is enacted in painful and violent ways on the bodies of the marginalised and oppressed. And I often think about how the horror and action genres are some of the best suited to speak about systemic injustice because of their capacity to make that violence uncompromisingly visible (one recent example is Mike Flanagan’s Midnight Mass which depicted the bloody fallout of the Christian missionary/colonial project in vivid crimson, splashed all over a non-descript maritime town in present-day America). The violence in Monkey Man is no different.

While Kid's realisation of the interconnectedness and heavy hand of the state not just in the violence experienced by his mother, but also by the hijra, and by sex workers like Sita comes later in the movie, we as the audience are given this insight earlier. Recall Kid pointing out to Sita that her tattoo is of a koel, not a sparrow as originally misidentified by the Australian client sexually assaulting her minutes earlier in the film.

Kid goes on to say that he grew up in the forest and woke up to koels singing everyday. Its the longest conversation that the two have but in those brief words, we understand that Sita too has likely been displaced to the city from the regions, probably under very similar circumstances to Kid. The way this displacement maps itself onto her body is distinctive to how it does so for Kid, with gender playing a large role in this.

Other factors like caste, class and religion also impact on how the characters in this film experience or perpetrate violence. I would write more on these intersections but then this post is going to get more unwieldy than it already is.

I will say though, that in India, where fascist Hindu nationalism is being used by government to harm minority communities, steal land and secure populist votes, Patel makes a distinction between revelatory and weaponised faith. Kid is raised in peace by his mother with the former, but as an adult he lives in a world where the latter has taken hold and is being used by those in power to shore up more of that power for themselves.

For me - as the descendant of parents, grandparents and great grandparents who lived through anti-Tamil pogroms led by Sinhalese chauvinists weaponising Buddhism as part of their fascism in Sri Lanka, who like the rest of us, is living in an election year for Hindu nationalist Prime Minister Narendra Modi in India, and who is also frustratingly, helplessly bearing witness as the state of Israel and it’s allies conflate Zionism with Judaism in defence of the genocide being waged against Palestinians - watching this action film make the distinction between revelatory and weaponised faith was profound.

Love

Patel makes it a point in this film to show how Kid's most nourishing relationships, the ones that sustain him - indeed the ones that literally save his life - are those that he has with women and with people who don’t conform to the gender binary. In doing this, we see what Kid is fighting tooth (quite literally) and nail for throughout the film. We see what is at stake - what we stand to lose - if perpetrators get to rule without accountability.

Its also no mistake that these relationships are all tied visually to the natural world in the film: Kid's mother's deep ties to the earth, rivers, trees and roots that she leads him through as a child. Alpha and the hijra's sanctuary, the Ardhanareeshvara temple with its most sacred space being the roots of a holy tree. Sita and her koel tattoo: the memory of the forest carried on her skin while she traverses the brutal reality of the city. Patel is making a point here too. About nourishment of another kind, through our connection with the earth instead of extraction from it. The visuals in the film drive this point home, particularly when contrasted with the industrialisation and poverty of the city.

Two particular loving relationships that stood out for me were the love shared between Kid and the hijra community as well as between him and his mother.

Alpha, hijra Elder and the hijra community

Keeper of the Ardhanareeshvara Temple and hijra Elder, Alpha becomes a mother-figure to Kid after he is rescued with near-fatal injuries. It is Alpha who keeps watch over him as he recovers, helps Kid to confront the totality of his past memories which his trauma has kept fragmented, and who ultimately leads a veritable hijra army to join forces with him to assassinate some fascists.

Alpha's gentleness with Kid was so moving to see, in particular during the conversation they have about his attempt as a child to save his mother from the fire set by her rapist and murderer. That exchange moved me to tears.

Kid: I failed her.

Alpha: No. You tried to save her. You see scars. I see the courage of a child fighting to save his mother.

The wider hijra community at the temple also take Kid in and care for him during his recovery. Truly, the scenes at the temple were some of my favourite in Monkey Man. Outside of his memories of his mother, they are the only scenes where we see love, peace and joy on the faces of any of the characters in this film.

Also witness this moment of delight below as the hijra at the temple appreciate a fine ass man channelling his righteous anger and fucking up a punching bag full of rice. I note that the music during this training montage is simply stunning. Ustad Zakir Hussain's rapid fire tablas punctuated by each of Patel's landed punches and kicks and then followed by Jed Kurzel's achingly soaring instrumentals (listen to "The Kid" from the movie's score) were just *chef’s kiss*.

Another favourite moment for me was when Kid decides to go back to the underground fight ring one last time and not throw his matches (as he had been doing prior). He bets on himself and when he inevitably wins his fights, he takes the money and gives it to the hijra, ensuring that they can continue to live at the temple without fear of being evicted. We love to see a man who literally pays his rent.

Neela, his mother

Kid’s first teacher and the center of his life as a child. In almost every memory we are shown of her, Kid remembers his mother walking through a forest, sharing her ecological and religious knowledge with him and in doing so, positioning him within the wider world.

GIF by dailyflicks

We watch as he takes this understanding with him forward through the remainder of the film. His conversation as an adult with Alphonso as they drive through the city in the latter's tuk tuk is emblematic of this. "They don't even see us", Kid says of the elite who frequent the club where he has just gained employment, "they're all up there living and we are stuck in this."

His mother showed him what it was to live: to be still and in concert with the world and the Divine around you, to be loved fiercely, and to thrive as a result. This is in stark contrast to what Kid has had to learn to do in the city: to survive, to merely exist. He is never depicted resting or at home as an adult. He's always working, hustling and planning for the next thing, his next step. When he loses his village, his land and his mother as a child, Kid also inevitably loses his sense of home. It’s no coincidence that the tracks “Home” and “Mother” on the movie’s score sound almost identical.

Later at the end of the film, we see Kid close his eyes, having done what he set out to do. The last thing he sees is his mother, smiling at him in the forest. Her face is the face of God he gazes at before he succumbs to his injuries. This devotion to his mother is not just that of a child to a parent. Its also deeply tied to his Hindu faith which calls on its followers to honour the Divine Mother, the supreme feminine energy, Aathi Parashakthi, in all her manifestations including in those who mother us.

The movie ends with Kid’s deep, revelatory faith - instilled in him by his mother - and with the death of the man who weaponised that faith for power and wealth. It left all of us in the cinema seated in stunned silence even as the credits began to roll.

To describe Monkey Man as simply a revenge film does it an absolute disservice. This is not revenge. It is defence borne out of deep love for community and righteous opposition to injustice. Seeing hijra warriors dressed as Kali, the goddess of destruction, dealing death blows against fascists while spinning in the most beautiful lenghas was exhilarating (I literally screamed “YESSSSSSS!” at the screen when they arrived). Seeing Sita take out pimp and sex trafficker Queenie got me cackling and yelling “whoooop!”. Seeing Kid, a masculine character act to defend women and people outside of the gender binary, from further systemic harm without any ulterior motive was absolutely unreal to witness on the big screen. Seeing a person of faith act in deep connection to that faith without judgment against anyone but those who perpetrate harm made me feel hopeful in a way that took me by surprise. Kid acted out of love and respect. I would argue that Sita, the hijra and Kid all acted out of recognition of a shared humanity.

And at a time when folks from marginalised communities are being subjected to horrendous violence worldwide, both interpersonal and systemic, watching the oppressed take their perpetrators out…and I mean out (see: a rapist and murderer getting bludgeoned to death with a glittery high heel and a fascist, self-proclaimed “holy man” being stabbed in his third eye by the blade he hid in his own “sacred” pathankal/paduka), well, it was cathartic to see.

Am I saying violence is the answer to systemic violence? I think the answer to that question is context-specific. Non-violent resistance has a place, but it’s by necessity a performance and requires an audience. What do you do when no one’s watching? What do you do when the people who are watching are doing nothing to stop your suffering? What then? These questions are what many liberals refuse to grapple with because the answers are too uncomfortable for their polite sensibilities. But if you keep your foot on someone's neck long enough, you should expect them to fight back, by any means necessary. In Monkey Man, we have an action film where we get to witness that resistance in all its visceral glory.

[nicothesnekk]

Hi there!

Its been, a longgg time since ive been on tumblr and ive started anew! However I wanted to talk about something that has became like extremely important for me these past few months.

And I know most are gonna be like 'ah damn its gonna be something political' But its not.

Its about the character of Izzy Hands from what is my favourite show Our Flag Means Death. I was going to write this somewhere more private, like my notes app. Eventually decided against that when I realised I just felt the need to talk about it to someone else.

So without further adieu, here is why the character of Izzy Hands is so damn important to me as a trans guy and a gay guy.

To start off, I want to talk about the fact that, Izzy is one of the first characters within media I have been able to relate too and understand on a level I didn't even realise possible. I hold that same loyalty this character has, that same instinct to follow along with those you know and not to question them, even if those people aren't objectively *good* so to say.

Because just like this damn angry little man, I do the same, I follow those who arent objectively good, even if it results in more pain and suffering than good. Ive followed people who have actively called me an animal before due to my sexuality and gender - Just like how Edward has called Izzy a dog in the past, albeit for different reasons. Ive known what its like to question my loyalty to those people but ultimately stay because in some way ive loved them.

Izzy Hands has genuinely been the first character I ever felt truly connected too in this form of sense. And dont even get me started on how he was in the aftermath of losing his leg.

I'm someone who has been losing both my hearing and my sight at *alarming* rates. Like to the point im having to have optician appointments every couple of months to make sure my prescription isn't changing more than it is already. Its got to the point where my glasses arent actually helping me with some aspects and im needing to slowly begin trying to adjust to using a white cane so that way i can try stay safe within public areas. Dont even get me started on my hearing loss.

Ill never forget how I felt when I saw Izzy's reaction to himself within his depressed state after losing his leg; (the whole "what even are you?" scene), having to take about 20 minutes to just sit and cry. Because I felt that so fully after having to experience my own depression to my own circumstances.

He's a character that from start to end I found being able to see myself in.

And by loving him it's like loving the part of myself I didn't think that I could love.

This character is one that i'm going to hold so damn dearly to my heart because I don't think Im ever going to be able to find one that ill be able to actively relate too on so many damn levels.

[saiorrr]

Your limiting beliefs and how they are shaping your life.

context

Our whole life we have been thinking about negative circumstances. "I can't do this, what if something bad happens" or "if I get in a relationship he/she will break my heart" or "what if this money is gone in a snap"?

The reason is that it is so easy for us to think about the negative. Its so ridiculously easy for us that we start to dwell in the assumption and thus it gets rooted deep into our subconscious mind. Which then reflects in our reality. Results being negative circumstances. We also further dwell on these unwanted assumptions because of our past experiences that create a memory. For example you got hurt in your committed relationship and now you have a memory where your partner cheated or whatsoever. Now everything you see your new partner simply interacting with the opposite gender. Your immediate instinct and thoughts become negative and you start to get anxious and needy. Not realising the fact that not every partner of yours is there to betray you but it is rather YOUR memory of the bad incident that created the negative assumptions and built your beliefs. Which then gets impeded in your subconscious mind through repetitive thinking, affirming or simply assuming.

so what do we do?

identify your current life situation

we rewrite our story. Take one morning or even a day to point out your current life situation. identify your limiting beliefs and how they are blocking you from achieving your dream life and write them out.

acceptance

next comes ACCEPTING that you have certain limiting beliefs and be okay with that. DONT be embarassed of them as you know you CAN change them. Realize that it completely okay to have a certain type of belief system. but you totally can rewrite your entire life and live how you want.

rewrite your story

after you have identified and accepted them. its time to rewrite your story and give it a 180 degree turn. write out exactly how you want to live. maybe create a vision board. try some techniques like affirming, visualizing, journal, shadow work, scripting etc, choose whatever works best for you.

and be repetitive as hell. DONT IDENTIFY WITH ANY NEGATIVE THOUGHTS THAT COMES IN YOUR MIND. keep in mind that negative thoughts might come but you shouldnt force yourself to "not think" those. just dont dwell on them and instead affirm something positive everytime a negative thought appears.

REMINDER

once again guys, REALITY IS COMPLETELY MORPHABLE. So be delusional as hell, dont lt anything get in your way. you are the queen or king of your sea. and you can have everything you want from the smallest to largest detail. dont stop believing. xoxo

[concerningwolves]

hello! i have question for you if you don’t mind me asking:

one part of my story focuses on a blind-from-birth friend (let’s call them A) struggling with not being overprotective of their friend (let’s call them B) who has very recently gained deafness.

would it be inappropriate or insensitive for B, in their confrontation, to compare their conditions? as in, if A could make it through life as successfully as they have, what’s to say B can’t adapt and succeed too even if it’s not the same condition?

Ohh, this sounds like a very interesting and crunchy dynamic!

I think this is one of those occasions where, yes, what your character is saying could be insensitive, but it's said as a result of a very reasonable conflict. The way I look at it is this: Your character(s) can say and do things that are insensitive if it's true to their characterisation and/or makes narrative/thematic sense. What's important is that you as the writer can recognise when something is insensitive/offensive/incorrect, and handle the issue respectfully in the wider story.

So, there are two issues with B's comment about "adapting and succeeding":

It doesn't acknowledge the nuance in disabled people's experiences, which could feed into the stereotype that all disability exists as a monolith (usually a monolith of suffering).

It doesn't account for any potential struggles or difficulties that A has experienced – or, more crucially, still experiences – because of their blindness. This skews close to the "Inspirationally Disadvantaged" trope, wherein a disabled character is treated as heroic for doing something everyday ordinary. (See also: inspiration porn)

It's a sad reality that if B wasn't otherwise disabled before gaining deafness, they were probably ableist. I don't mean "hateful bigot" degree ableism – more the insidious, everyday type of ableism that seeps into us because of social beliefs. In that context, a comment like B's is understandable. You see it all the time both in fiction and real life: people become disabled or chronically ill, and both they and those around them immediately treat the new situation as something that needs to be "fixed" or overcome.

While becoming disabled is a life-altering circumstance which may carry its own trauma or grief (even if not caused by a more "typically" traumatic event!), it's not a tragic condition that has to be overcome. It's a new way of living. There will be new problems to deal with though, ranging from The Symptoms to internalised, social and systemic ableism, and it's important not to shy away from or gloss over these. In B's case, they're going to learn to live without a sense that they probably never realised was quite so important to them. I've always been deaf, so I really recommend finding accounts from people who became deaf later in life to get a deeper understanding of this perspective.

When handling A and B's disabilities in the wider narrative, think about the two issues I raised above and see if they're present at all. Some questions to help you assess your narrative as a whole are:

Are you painting A and B with the same brush? – by which I mean, have you done research into blindness and deafness separately, and reflected differences in the culture and beliefs associated with them in the narrative?

↪ (Disabled communities often have a culture built up around them, with facets like humour, shared experiences, and language and other communication systems. I always wholeheartedly suggest looking into these and incorporating them into stories!)

Does A ever encounter any issues related to their blindness, or do they somehow manage to ""overcome"" everything? – think about what accessibility aids they use, what barriers they face, and how they navigate the world as a blind person. If you've not checked them out already, blindbeta has an incredible blog for portraying blind and low vision characters.

↪ (Even in an ableism-free 100% accessibility-focused society, most disabilities are still going to be, y'know, disabling in some way. The core question to ask yourself is how does my character's disability/condition affect them on a day-to-day level?)

Have you included disabled joy as well as disabled struggles? – there are often positive aspects to disability! Sometimes it's as simple as "this is how I experience the world and I'm okay with that"; sometimes it's "my disability means [X] and I'm proud of that"; other times it's "this is what I've learned from living with [disability] and I value that". There's a lot of variety in opinion and you won't be able to please or represent everyone, but it's infinitely worth looking into and including as much as you can.

I hope this helps. Please feel free to ask if you need anything clarified, and good luck with your story!

[kazdhd]

Passion

My thoughts on "Passion" - A writing prompt

Passion is powerful — it can be categorised as a strong or compelling emotion, feeling or desire — such as love, hate, affection, lust. It’s also categorised as an experience of love, a strong sexual desire or an over-the-top fondness, enthusiasm or desire for anything (e.g. a passion for writing!)

It’s so powerful that it can ignite both a creative flame and a destructive fire. Passion can push you to your limits in both good and bad ways and I believe it’s down to the individual, and the circumstances surrounding them at any given moment, as to which way it will end up going.

Our passions fuel a fire in us all. Some are long-lasting, lifetime passions that people use to their advantage on a daily basis. Passions for hobbies like writing, singing, art and such like. It drives a person to want to create, share, interact, engage, be part of something bigger. Passions like this are positive — they help you, and others around you, grow. Explore. Experience. Live!

However, I feel like passion can also cause you to lose sight of the bigger picture, if the feeling is too strong, it ends up overshadowing everything else.

For example; a passion to help people can often become so intense that it can lead to being walked all over and not having the confidence to stand up for yourself when you’ve been taken advantage of. It can make you feel like you have to ‘do the thing’ for someone regardless of its impact on your own physical and mental health. It can consume you if you don’t take the time to (or struggle to) look at things objectively along the way.

Another example; a passion to make money — this can be both good AND bad. To make more money is, on the surface, a very good thing (especially with the cost of living crisis and everything else we normal folk have to deal with every day) — who wouldn’t want to do it? To have a passion for it means you’ll do anything for it and that can, unfortunately, lead to poor (no pun intended) decisions unless you’re aware of where to draw the line. Make more money — yes, but to compromise your own integrity or moral standings in order to do so? No. Not a good result in the end.

The same applies to any and all passions, now that I’ve thought about it a little more. A passion for hobbies, such as those mentioned above, is all well and good until you stop sleeping, eating, looking after yourself just to make sure your art/song/poem/story is completed. That’s when it becomes a problem. I realise that’s a drastic, worst-case-scenario take on things, but it’s true all the same.

I feel like it should come with a warning sign — experience with caution, or something along those lines — but that’s not really how it works, is it. Emotions are a very strong force to be reckoned with and you have to be able to manage these well in order to truly understand and utilise said passions to a healthy advantage.

Me? I simply cannot regulate said emotions which is where passions start to become a problem for me. A passion to eat more healthily can quickly become something that consumes my every thought and ends up making me doubt every decision I make in the supermarket — leaving me frustrated, tired and unable to continue with it. Now that could be the undiagnosed ADHD, the depression or the anxiety that I experience every day clouding my judgement. It could also be my low self-esteem simply telling me “hah, you can’t be passionate about this. You don’t know what you’re doing!” — who knows, I could be getting this completely wrong. But it’s what came to mind as I pondered this topic.

I can, however, regulate my passion for writing, for the most part. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes I’ll find myself sitting up until 3am, having already been at the PC for 4 hours researching things to include in my blogs about my wonderfully complicated little life, thinking ‘hey, I might as well stay up ’til morning!’ That thought in itself is a little bit dangerous if I were to do it all the time. I’d end up with little to no sleep, compromising my already strained ability to function like a normal human being, and would be of no use to myself, or anyone else until I’d had a chance to recharge.

I feel like I’ve gone on a bit of a tangent here (don’t I always, haha!) so I’ll end with this thought, and my actual answer to the original question:

Passion is a creative flame capable of turning in to a destructive fire if not managed appropriately.

[oftarotandnoodledragons]

Sixty-Five: Six of Cups

Goodwill is man's first attempt to express the love of God. Its results on earth will be peace. It is so simple and practical that people fail to appreciate its potency or its scientific and dynamic effect. One person sincerely practising goodwill in a family, can completely change its attitudes. Goodwill really practised among groups in any nation, by political and religious parties in any nation, and among the nations of the world, can revolutionise the world. -Alice Bailey, Problems of Humanity

I want to assure you that regardless of your circumstances, age, or sex, you can indeed start over, re-arousing from within yourself those earlier, more innocent expectations, feelings and beliefs. It is much better if you can imagine this endeavor more in the light of children’s play, in fact, rather than think of it as a deadly serious adult pursuit. -Jane Roberts, The Way Toward Health

When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind. -Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

Let's start with the outcome, shall we? I've got to pay more attention and expend more energy than I currently am on the material in the book I discussed last time. I am slowly coming to realise that my childhood is not as tragic or poor as I perhaps express it to be: all of my experiences, good and bad, have been formative; and while it would be my inclination to focus on those pivotal negative moments and durations, the Six of Cups reminds me that everything wasn't so bad after all, and to realise that amongst the slag and pits of poison in my memories, which need to be dealt with in their own ways, there are nuggets of gold to be cherished. If I want to be resilient, successful and happy, then I need to grab a pickaxe and keep swinging, and swinging, and swinging.

Alright. How did I get to this? The Six of Cups was one of the cards that I was quite unfamiliar with until recently. It wasn't in the first set of 25 cards prior to me starting this blog, nor has it really appeared in my readings way back when. So, the silver lining coming out of this is that I've been able to synthesize my entry in my book with the benefit of Esselmont's shading to Thirteen and Bunning's basics. Their approaches, though, are quite different. To use Thirteen's numerical assignment, a Six corresponds to The Lovers, and indicates a harmonisation or balance after the instability and loss of a Five, where one finds give-and-take to restore equilibrium and a potential solution to a problem. He warns that the equilibrium is only temporary, though: we've seen this in the Six of Swords, which is a time of recovery or being in a holding pattern, situations that cannot last forever. Likewise, using with what seems to be the traditional view of this card, "nostalgia", Thirteen says that the feeling cannot last. Nostalgia really is only a temporary thing and looking into the past blinds oneself to the present – the Reversed aspect of the card goes deeper into this. Thirteen says that the nostalgia is a "known joy", and suggests that it could be used to allow for emotional equilibrium; but, one should not rely on it as a miracle cure. Even Fairchild suggests to not let the past detract from the present, while Paschkis depicts a happy figure resting by a well with Cups around it, looking up at the clouds: definitely the nostalgic theme underpins her picture.

So it's no wonder that, with nostalgia being the undercurrent in the stream, that "childhood" is a very potent theme associated with the Six of Cups. While Thirteen only pays this focus a passing, establishing glance, Esselmont and Bunning go deeper into it, with the former suggesting a time of revisiting one's memories from childhood, one's home, old friends, and so on, or simply to get in touch with one's inner child and to do childlike activities: she says this allows contact with the authentic self and intuition. Bunning, and Esselmont in turn, also take a more literal approach and mention actual children, such as a pregnancy or time spent with them. Getting in touch with what made one happy as a child, and various different viewpoints of this, is advice that I can see to bestow from this card.

From here, it's Bunning who assigns more to this card than the other two, though Esselmont talks about the post-Five calm and trust of a relationship. Firstly, she talks about innocence, which is a trait very much in line with childhood; but not only that childlike innocence, but legal innocence, chastity (in its true form), even being unaware of some secret. She also seems to be the only one who ascribes a meaning of "goodwill", but I think it's a very important aspect: an evolution of innocence, if you will. She mentions small acts of kindness, generosity and forgiveness as a counter to the ills of the world, and of course, encourages it in the querent. To this backdrop of innocence and goodwill, I find it hard to apply the rest of Fairchild's diagnoses: a rise of personal magnetism, to be firm with affairs of the heart (maybe due to post-Five?) and being "an excellent time to start a new love affair, renew vows, or relocate". Whoa, those energies seem very out of place to me, unless there was something else leaning towards those from other cards in a reading.

Reversed, Mr Doom-And-Gloom Thirteen says that the nostalgia is more a sign of painful memories of childhood and past times. And while this may be the case, I think it should be tempered by Esselmont's lighter, subdued touches. Here, maybe one has lost touch with their inner child and needs to take the time to reconnect, or maybe one is revisiting something in their past that they wish to keep hidden from view, such as rekindling an old flame. Or maybe, as I alluded to, they're living in the past and not letting go of that Six energy, living in a time when things seemed much better or if not that (with Thirteen's analysis), more familiar. The book I'm reading talks about mental habits that result from going down the path of the familiar and being in a familiar situation, even if it's such a negative, so this is definitely a view that I could employ when this card comes up again. Fairchild's view is more oblique, and I'm finding it hard to work out the logic when he advises to make good on promises, but not if they're unreasonable demands, and to constructively solve problems without pushiness. But then he says to find time for deep belly laughs and new friends, and maybe we're toeing the nostalgia line here in a different form, i.e. make a new thing for future nostalgia. Still, there are times when Fairchild's views are on an entirely different track to that of the other three mentors, and I think this is one of them: had his words been my only real exposure to this card, then I think I would be far more confused and have to unlearn them.

So, for the first time since I've restarted the journey, the deck has given me an Upright card (I feel better calling it that than "Natural", because it's Nature in shuffling that turns the cards around; I feel the term is somewhat ignorant of the Divine). This change in orientation has not been lost on me. A curious thing happened to me earlier this week. For some reason, the vending machine at work would not accept my card when I tried to use it, and so I had to try to use cash: an almost foreign concept to me. The machine says that it accepts five-dollar bills, so I tried to pay with the one and only one that I had in my wallet; yet, it spat it back out. I tried again, and it spat it out again. Then, when I went to get fuel after work, I was approached by a man clutching a broken fan belt; he'd only just come back into employment within the last few days when this had happened to him. I gave the five-dollar bill to him; it was obviously meant for him. Like I said at the start of this entry, I think the greater meaning for me with the Six of Cups is in the work to reconcile myself with who I am and to let my inner child know that he's okay and valued and loved, but for this energy to occur when this card speaks about goodwill is not something that I can just wave away. The cards really do act as signals, and I have to keep my inner eye open for this. Indeed, getting in touch with my inner child is a way to get in touch with my intuition, as Esselmont points out. So, I've been playing my old games a little more, started watching a TV series I enjoyed as a kid, and also streamed for the first time in ages last weekend. Above all, though, I need to find that scared little boy and let him know that everything really, really, isn't that bad after all.

With that, I'm moving into the final sixth. If this whole journey has been an athletic run, I'm passing by the ringing bell. Thirteen (hah) cards remain, the last large factorial division of the deck, with the last six being the final straight. The run may be a bit slower than I would like, especially as I will need to write notes for nine of these cards. But, there's a fairly even spread across the suits except for the Pentacles: four remain here. As I drove to work today, I identified what I had left to draw and tried to start to work out what the narratives could be; and then I realised how futile that is. The cards are signposts, not agents. There's a potential twenty-six orientations that need to be discerned, of which half will be relevant, and of those half, there are many shades of meaning that could be applied. As it has been for the past sixty-five cards, part of the journey is to find what that card is talking about. So, I ask, what does the Reversed Six of Pentacles show me?

Let's start on the last lap.

[musings-on-aching-flowers]

Hi.....if you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top 5 favorite characters from TGCF? And your top 5 (or top 3) favorite moments from the novel? Sorry if you've answered this question before....Thanks....

Hi, you’re totally fine, thanks for asking!! Sorry it took me this long, it’s been a while since I’ve checked tumblr! 

My top 5 favourite characters from TGCF would have to be:

1. Xie Lian

To me, Xie Lian is such an interesting character, especially in his growth into who he is as a character during the events of books 1, 3 and 5. His story arc is extremely compelling, as we can witness how his life experiences have shaped him from his initial naivety, then to his flinty cynicism (which is honestly hard-won at that point) until finally we get his gentle compassion, like wood that has been sanded down.  He may not necessarily be the kindest, most compassionate person, and he’s made his fair share of mistakes and then some, but all those experiences in all those 800 years he’s been around have made him able to still view humanity as something worth saving. 

I also love the dichotomy of his nature; he is non-confrontational, but when he draws his sword his martial prowess is unmatched, he was born a prince but had a single-minded focus on cultivation, and so on. 

(Also STARember draws him devastatingly pretty in the manhua - how could you not love him?!)

2. Hua Cheng

I will confess that I am an incorrigible romantic, and I love Hua Cheng’s utmost devotion to Xie Lian. In all those years, his devotion is true, unwavering, and unconditional, and yet even with such dedication to his Dianxia that it literally tethers him to reality, he has managed to grow into himself and his own as a fully realised individual. He has found purpose other than the sole pursuit of Xie Lian, which I really admire about him. 

What Hua Cheng teaches us as well is how love can change you in such a positive way. His love for Dianxia pulled him from the brink time and again, and helped him keep moving forward even despite the immense pressure he received throughout his whole existence, especially in the early days what with being ‘cursed’.

3. Yin Yu (and 4. Quan Yizhen)

I really love these characters. The part where Xie Lian brutally murdered Yin Yu over his exceedingly average appearance just took me out, but I also think he’s a very realistic and relatable character: the Oikawa Tooru to Quan Yizhen’s Kageyama Tobio, if you will - because sometimes hard work alone can’t beat natural talent and drive. I also appreciate that he never had bad designs on Quan Yizhen - sure, he was jealous, but he didn’t want to actually hurt him, rather preferring to focus on himself and what he was doing, and the events that transpired to his banishment were more a result of bad luck and circumstance on his part. I like Quan Yizhen too, he means well and he’s sweet and he's utterly persistent about something when he wants to be, and I wanted to ruffle his curly hair every time he was in a scene.

5. Yushi Huang (Rain Master)

Every time Yushi Huang came into the scene I was overjoyed. I really like her ascension story, and I love the elegance and gentle grace with which she carries herself in every scene. I think it’s amazing that her role is so important in the Heavens that even Jun Wu wouldn’t dare to make a move against her, and I equally thought it was hilarious whenever Pei Ming would get embarrassed over having to be saved by her. What an icon.

...As for my favourite moments in the novels, I don’t think I could rank them but here are my top 5:

the scene in book 5 where Xie Lian and Hua Cheng kiss on the massive Dianxia statue ‘to exchange spiritual power’ and Feng Xin and Mu Qing are appalled, Quan Yizhen confused and Pei Ming goes ‘Ho ho’

the scene in book 5 where Jun Wu makes Xie Lian contact Hua Cheng to assure him that everything is alright in Heaven and the ensuing conversation has Xie Lian experiencing 800 years of embarrassment at once

the scene in book 3 where Xie Lian is dressed as a woman with a child-sized Hua Cheng running from the group of cultivators and he boards in a cannibalism hotel run by Qi Rong, with Jian Lan and Cuocuo chased by Mu Qing in disguise staying across the hall

all the scenes of the book 3 Brocade Immortal arc where Hua Cheng is bopping around disguised as Lang Ying, but especially when he gets revealed because Xie Lian tries to make him write something

the post canon scene where Xie Lian accidentally curses himself to be in extreme pain whenever he thinks of Hua Cheng but even still he refuses to be apart from him.

Thanks again for the lovely ask! I hope you have a good day :) <3

[keijislove]

Hi babe! I was wondering if I could request a Tony Stark x daughter reader? With lots of angst and her being locked in her room because she’s being bullied for her darker skin

(I understand if you’re not comfortable with this)

Safe Place: Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader

I think this turned out a bit longer than I expected.

Sorry :(

I hope you like this, I don’t really have a lot of experience with this matter, so I hope I captured the emotions right!

I AM APOLOGISING IN ADVANCE, THE HURTFUL COMMENTS MENTIONED HERE ARE NOT ONES I WOULD EVER USE IN MY LIFETIME.

GIRL, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE – YOU DON’T NEED DIMWITS LIKE RACISTS TO DEFINE BEAUTY. YOU WANT THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY, GO LOOK IN THE MIRROR.

PUT A STOP TO RACISM.

WARNINGS: Slight EXTREMELY racial comments, mentions of death, toxic relationship, angst, Tony being a little... well, Tony.

Being Tony Stark’s daughter was nearly everyone’s dream. Well, everyone you’d come across at school, anyway. It seemed rational from their point of view – big house, big bedroom, expensive branded clothing, basically an overall exquisite lifestyle coupled with fame of being his daughter which was sure to earn popularity points anywhere and everywhere. A man rolling in that amount of money would make a great dad... right?

You thought differently. Which was one of the main reasons you did not tell anyone who your father really was and your teachers understood your predicament and played along to your story of being an ordinary girl with no scope for coolness whatsoever.

Your mother had met your father a long, long time ago – when Tony was still in university. Of course, he’d left her before he even knew she was pregnant, and they never saw each other again. You didn’t exactly love your life as his daughter. In fact, from what your mother had told you, he was (in your vision) a complete monster whom your mother had the sad misfortune to meet.

It was her untimely death that had forced you to go live with the man who was the reason you were born and the man who ruthlessly left your mother to fend for herself and a baby. You had tried for foster care, but the agents told you that your father was still alive and more than capable of taking care of you – being the famous Tony Stark and all.

So it would suffice to say that Tony was lowkey shocked when you turned up at his doorstep one day with a grudging expression and declarations of being his daughter. He actually didn’t believe you at first and asked you to piss off which confirmed your earlier assumptions about his character – asshole. After you’d snapped at him and showed him all the legal documentations stating that you two were blood-related as father-daughter after all, Tony was even more shocked than earlier.

Though he would rather die than admit it, he felt sad after seeing your fourteen-year-old self standing at his doorstep. He’d missed your birth, your first steps, your first words, he even missed helping you with homework in preschool – basically all precious moments you enjoy with a child. But you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to be here – something that made Tony’s already overlarge pride swell like a bullfrog and stopped him from ever getting close to you. While you were busy thinking he didn’t want you, you overlooked a small detail – he took you in.

If anyone had the power to bribe an adoption agency to get rid of their kid, it was Anthony Stark, yet he never gave you away. The simple explanation (that he would never, in a million years, admit it to you) was that he didn’t want to lose you – around the only blood-related family he had left.

And so began your life as Y/N Stark. It functioned surprisingly well for your expectations. Pepper was really nice to you and those few occasions when the Avengers came over, you were able to talk to Natasha about ‘girl things’, her presence reminding you of the mother you had lost only too young. You sometimes even asked Bruce for help with homework, too proud yourself to go to Tony. Overall, you stayed out of his way while he stayed out of yours – an arrangement you were both satisfied with.

The worst part was that you never talked. Ever. You would wake up and walk to school, refusing Jarvis’ continued protests of letting you use the self-driving car, came home the same way where you did your homework and grabbed a snack before you ‘father’ came back upstairs from his little man cave in the basement and a small ‘good-evening’ passed between you two as you went your separate ways. This cycle repeated itself every day. Recently, your life at school hadn’t been going great.

You’d known that your skin tone was a notch darker than the others at your school – something you had gotten from your mother – and this was not something you really cared about. That’s when they started coming – the comments. What were originally small, snide retorts of ‘wash your face, ew!’ (A/N: I AM SO SORRY) had now escalated to them calling you obscene names you’d never heard before and asking you to leave ‘their’ school

Which was why, instead of being at school today, you were locked in your bedroom, sobbing into your pillow.

It had started out as a very unusual morning. After getting comments hurled at you left right and centre the previous day, you’d had enough. You’d woken up and declared to Jarvis that you were skipping school and he was to, under no circumstances, notify your father about this. After that you tried to eat some cereal, but the bubbling dread in your stomach made it taste like dry carpet, so you gave up and stomped into your room, locking the door before flinging yourself onto the bed and crying your heart out.

It was in times like these that you felt the need for something – a gaping hole in your chest. It seemed foolish to even admit it to yourself, but you really wanted someone like a parent. Someone who listened to your problems and comforted you accordingly, someone who actually cared about you. And since Tony Stark filled neither of these requirements, you gave up the foolish dream and sunk, once again, into your self-fashioned depths of misery.

-------

Tony casually sipped on his wine, putting one last screw into place to make the latest piece he was testing out. As he powered the device on, it vibrated for a moment before the words ‘model failed’ appeared on the screen Tony was examining.

He swore loudly and shoved it ungracefully aside before running his hands through his hair. There had been many an occasion where Tony seriously considered going to your room to just say something to you that wasn’t a monotonous ‘good evening’ or ‘the milk’s finished’ or something else like that. He wanted to talk to you. To you.

He wanted to get to know the real Y/N – what you were like when you weren’t too busy being bold and refusing to appear vulnerable. As if reading his thoughts, Jarvis’ voice filled the room suddenly.

“Sir, I do believe that Ms Stark is currently locked inside her bedroom. She refused to go to school just this morning.”

“What?” Tony exclaimed, “Why, did she tell you anything else?”

“Just this, Sir, along with a few obscene warnings of not informing you about this occurrence. If I recall correctly, Ms Stark told me she would rip out my sockets with her bare hands had I come to you.”

Ignoring the small smirk that was growing on his lips at the thought of you behaving exactly as he would, Tony wiped his tired hands on a nearby cloth before sprinting out the door and up the stairs to your bedroom.

He knocked on the door.

“Go away Pepper, not in the mood,” came your muffled voice. It was weak and raw – evidently, you had been crying.

Ignoring the poking feeling of dread bubbling in his stomach, Tony knocked again.

“Open up, kid, it’s me,” he shouted.

“Definitely not in the mood, thanks.”

Tony sighed. This was exactly what he had tried so hard to avoid –turning out like his own father. Not knowing how to deal with a daughter properly, he just let you go about your business as you wanted, hoping that it would yield better results than what his childhood had been like. Now, looking back at how much he’d neglected you, he suddenly realised that he had done the exact thing he was afraid of – hurt you.

“Y/N Y/M/N Stark, open the door. Please.”

Perhaps it was the please at the end or the way he acknowledged you as his living, breathing daughter for the first time that made you stagger limply over to the door and push it open.

Your eyes were puffy, red and swollen from bawling nonstop and your brows were knitted into a disapproving frown. It broke Tony’s heart to see you like this.

“Listening,” you sniffed, crossing your arms.

“Okay, why don’t you sit down,” Tony frowned slightly.

You gave another hearty sniff and led him to your bed where you flopped down and watched as he took a seat beside you.

You both sat in a very painful, deafening silence for the next few minutes.

“You didn’t go to school today,” Tony casually remarked as you played with your pillow, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I did,” you said simply.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Tony offered.

“I really don’t,” you admitted as he burst out laughing and you gave a grudging giggle despite yourself.

“Seriously, kid,” Tony said in an undertone, “You’ve gotta open up a bit more. I mean, it’s been like what, two years since you moved here and you never bother telling me what’s going on. And look where that got you – come on, tell me what’s going on. Is it school?”

“Partially,” you quietly said to which he cocked an eyebrow.

“Completely,” you amended, sighing, “Kids, you know, they’re just being – well, mean.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded slightly, “You want to talk about it?”

“They... they make fun of me,” you admitted, “About – about my skin colour and stuff. And I know I’m being stupid, getting upset over this –”

“It’s not stupid,” Tony broke in, “It’s not stupid at all. Nothing gives anyone a right to talk to you that way.”

“Try telling that to them!” you burst out, final letting go of the pent-up emotions you’d been holding for days, “What did I ever do to them – it’s not my fault I look like this, maybe if I could choose what to look like, I’d choose something they want! Just about everyone seems to have a problem – what the hell do they expect me to do? It’s unjust, unfair, unsettling and unkind, but of course they don’t care, do they?!”

Tony didn’t even flinch throughout your entire outburst until you broke down and tears began rapidly pouring out of your eyes once more.

“Hey, hey, stop, listen to me,” Tony sternly said, seizing your shoulders and turning you to face him.

“You’re a Stark,” he said, gazing you dead in the eyes, “You are beautiful, you’re smart and you’re kind. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This was too much for you to handle and you started sobbing again – sobs of partial happiness and partial guilt that didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

“Come here, kid,” was all Tony could say as he pulled you into a hug, allowing you to sob into his shirt while he stroked your hair, trying to calm you down.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever been mean to you,” you whispered finally.

“It’s okay, kid,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m sorry I haven’t been a great father all this time.”

You two sat in a now comfortable silence, occasionally clearing your throats or sniffling a bit before Tony finally spoke.

“If anyone says that to you again, I will have them cut up and fed to the fish in my house in Malibu.”

“Thanks, dad.”

[srbachchan]

DAY 4985

Jalsa, Mumbai                   Oct 17,  2021                Sun 10:38 PM

Tomorrow .. Oct 18th .. is the birthday of Ef Prathibha Rajesh .. and the wishes for the wellness and good safety .. happiness and the joys of life .. from the Ef .. 🙏🙏

And an apt video presentation from that great talent .. Niladri .. his sitar dexterity is world renowned .. and he presents me this as a gift .. my gratitude as ever .. and i do hope that the link opens here ..

https://youtu.be/hT2kKsU7thY

.. and I spend some time in watching the Shoojit film .. Sardar Udham .. and am short of words for the superiority of his work .. the Production and the making .. uff .. simply astounding .. 

The history and the research on the subject and the effort to details is such a delight to watch .. it was like anything out of the International market ..

A lazy day .. a day of the realisation on time and circumstances .. of the effort needed to bring to the fore, the immensely important works of my Father .. and the hesitation of not knowing where to start .. there is an unending encyclopaedia of his writings .. his experiences .. his wisdom .. each page of his works are written genius .. and it must be brought to the World .. 

I shall endeavour ..

For now its an early night - which shall please many .. and the entire day has been spent in writing and signing off the letters of gracious gratitude to them that have given me the joys of gift for my birth and beyond ..

yes the age of writing has gone beyond time now , but for some it still exists ..

technology has robbed us many .. but provided suitably too .. and for them that have lived through decades from the past, the feel is greatly more visible .. 

.. and the results of that has been that despite all the pen collection does take up the maximum space still on my desk ..

.. and that is just a corner of the table .. the other corners are traffic jammed with the instruments that existed in our time in the abundance of the highest desire .. now no longer a luxury .. 

but Babuji .. Babuji gave it the highest respect .. 

I remember I needed a pencil when we were at Allahabad, 17, Clive Road and I saw millions of them on my father’s desk .. which I did pick randomly , expecting he would never know .. but he did .. and when he came back noticing it , punished me with the whacks of the ruler .. 

Babuji .. so many little important stories now fill the mind .. and each day is a learning ..

good night dearest ones .. ❤️❤️❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[yeonchi]

The Koei Tecmo New Normal Copium

Ten years ago, on 20 March 2012, Koei Tecmo released Warriors Orochi 3 in the West without English dubbing. That day marked the start of Koei Tecmo’s disgrace to the Western fanbase and English dub fans in particular. People are probably going to gaslight me for this given that I’m talking about the whole of Koei Tecmo’s Western fanbase, but I say this because over the next decade, that disgrace continued to the point where they didn’t just cut corners in localisation, they cut corners in their games as well and by the time Dynasty Warriors 9 came out on 13 February 2018, the apathy set in and I had lost all optimism that Koei Tecmo would properly localise or dub their games again.

In the past two years, the term “new normal” has been used to describe how people around the world would live their lives as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, but recently, I realised that Koei Tecmo not dubbing their games has been their “new normal” for the past decade. In short, they thought the fans were fine with it, so they just carried on with that for future games, without taking other opinions into consideration. Am I the only one who’s starting to think that democracy as we know it is flawed?

Anyway, I already said as much when I said that I would be leaving the Koei Tecmo fandom in my post about Dynasty Warriors 9. As a result, I wouldn’t have gone to the effort of making this post in normal circumstances, so why did I do it? It’s because I’ve decided to return to the Koei Tecmo fandom on my own terms. This post is the end result of the Koei Tecmo fanbase huffing the new normal copium and my analysis of Koei Tecmo as a business over the past decade. My upcoming plans for Koei Tecmo content have already been covered in a separate post if you’re not interested in this one.

Some time after I made my post on DW9, a fan sent me a video by Jim Sterling about the dismal degradation of the Dynasty Warriors series and the rest of the Koei Warriors series in general. Recently, I also found two other rant videos on similar subjects by DrakeVagabond and Sex Gravy, and I honestly wish I’d found Sex Gravy’s video when I was doing my rants because the title of it literally is called “Why Koei doesn't give a Sunday Morning Left-Handed Wank about Dubbing Games anymore”, which is something that could have caught my attention and led me to dedicate a response rant to it. If what I’ve covered in the Koei Warriors Rant Series or Dub Logistics is still lacking (which I admit it does), then the three videos I’ve linked should have more than enough information to fill the gaps.

Basically, after watching the three videos and reflecting on my rants, I realised that the English dub problem with Koei Tecmo goes deeper than I first thought. While I have talked about certain games not being localised that could have really been beneficial to Western fans (like Warriors Orochi Z or Sengoku Musou 3 Z), there’s other issues like still releasing the games at full price digitally and not having demos, discounts, sales or just reducing the price as the years go on, the exorbitant amount of DLCs and the money required to get “the full experience” even with season passes or the Xtreme Legends spinoffs and finally, chasing stupid trends like console generation exclusivity, open worlds and realism, particularly when the trends have already passed elsewhere. Let’s not forget Koei Tecmo’s lack of effort in advertising the games outside of the internet and particularly, outside of Japan. Sex Gravy also points out how the translation quality seems to have dropped in subbed games, like their interest in proper quality control got cut along with their interest in dubbing, and the audacity of Koei Tecmo dubtitling their translations, that is, translating lines (such as officer defeated quotes) as if they were going to dub them, which is insulting because aside from the lines not even closely matching the original Japanese lines, it’s like they wanted to make the effort to dub the game but they gave us this as a compromise. It’s very clear that Koei Tecmo, like nearly every game company, care more about their back pocket than they care about their fans. Or, to put it bluntly, they just didn’t care.

Although it should be noted that Warriors Orochi 3 was the first mainstream Warriors game to not be dubbed, the first Warriors game to have had that treatment was Samurai Warriors Chronicles for the 3DS, a game that frankly, they should have passed on in favour of localising Sengoku Musou 3 Z, which would have brought in Samurai Warriors 3 Xtreme Legends for the Wii along with a PS3 port for that and the base game combined. It’s basically a Complete Edition and a precursor to the PS4 and Steam releases of Dynasty Warriors 8.

So why did I decide to come back to the Koei Tecmo fanbase after I left in 2018? The main reason was because tmma1869, one of my biggest fans during my Rant Series days (which is saying something given my obscurity), started playing Samurai Warriors 5 despite her similar disdain for Koei Tecmo and their fanbase. Another reason is because I recently realised that the Koei Warriors Rant Series wasn’t so much about the games themselves than it was a case study for English dubbing and a spotlight on the toxicity of the Koei Tecmo fanbase and dub haters in general. This was mostly because I didn’t have a PS3 back then (and I could have bought a PS4 but I got a Wii U like the idiot I was), but recently built a new PC and I talked myself into getting a PS3 emulator before I learnt that PS3 emulation had come a long way over the past decade, so I had no excuse. Yet another reason is because my guilty pleasure of playing Warriors games continued, even during lockdown as I made some Koei Tecmo content in 2020, including my retrospectives on Warriors Orochi Z and Dynasty Warriors 8, and revived my obsession, inspiring me to make content for it. I wasn’t sure what new things I could get into given that I’m feeling too old to get into new things, so I slowly clutched onto what remaining interests I had, which led me to here with Koei Tecmo in the first place.

Why did I start the Koei Warriors Rant Series in the first place? Before 2014, I’d been watching Let’s Play videos of Koei Warriors games on YouTube, and while watching the Warriors Orochi 3 gameplays, it struck me as odd that the voices were in Japanese yet the text was in English. The release of Warriors Orochi 3 Ultimate and Samurai Warriors 4 without English voices (despite me thinking that they would use the gap between WO3 and WO3U to dub the game) was what really got me angry enough to start the Rant Series by telling Koei Tecmo and their fanbase to commit seppuku and that they should be ashamed for wanting Japanese voices in the games at the cost of the English voices. Despite what many have assumed, I actually have no problem with playing the game in Japanese or reading subtitles, particularly given that I have played some Koei Warriors games with Chinese subtitles, but recently, I realised that I was doing this because I wanted to play the games with English dubs for the experience and the voice cast. Sure, I could mimic the English voice actors and pretend to say the lines in English, but that’s essentially a placebo and not a solution to the problem. This doesn’t mention other fans who might prefer English dub or the advantages of having it, but I thought I’d be altruistic anyway while I was at it. Also, it pissed me off that nobody, not even reviewers or gaming journalists, talked about the lack of English dub in localisations as much as I did (instead trying to pretend that it isn’t that much of a problem), but given how shitty gaming journalism is in current year, they’d probably be standing behind that practice anyway.

After the attention I got from the first part, I continued the series in the hope of getting an official response or explanation from Koei Tecmo. Admittedly, while subsequent instalments didn’t get the attention the first instalment got, I did hear a lot of speculative reasons from fans, but that wasn’t enough for me. The closest thing I got to an explanation was from some old comments made by former community manager Chin Soon Sun/inspchin, which basically boils down to sales and revenue, and I’ve never given Koei Tecmo the benefit of the excuse because I’ve been calling bullshit on this (and other excuses) since day 1. They couldn’t make the money (or the time) to hire 80 (more or less) English voice actors to voice over 150 characters, yet they somehow managed to do it with 110 Japanese seiyuu. They claim they can’t dub games because of sales, yet they still manage to keep making profits (assumedly) year after year from their fanboys, particularly with the prices they charge for games and DLC. Finally, if Samurai Warriors wouldn’t be authentic without the Japanese voices, then why dub the game in the first place? In fact, why dub any anime or game at all if you think Japanese voices are the only way people can enjoy it? More people prefer the Japanese voices instead of the English voices? OK, show me the polls and surveys so I can tell those people that their selfishness is the reason why we’re all huffing the Koei Tecmo new normal copium and that they should be ashamed of themselves.

I might not know a lot about business, but I know how to look at things from a customer-centric perspective. Two solutions I suggested include getting Koei Tecmo Japan to put more money in for an English dub or even better, getting the fans to crowdfund it (I would suggest paid DLC, but then I’d probably be complaining about how expensive it would be and how it would be insulting to dub fans as a result - free DLC is a fair compromise, but of course it’d be best to have dual audio options on release). Sadly, however, even as fans call gaming companies out for their shitty business practices, they still keep on doing it despite this because they assume their formula works because the reviews and sales support it. In short, Koei Tecmo got woke, continually doubled down, and went broke.

Have my views changed over the years? Yes and no. It was about 7 and a half years ago when I started doing my rants and over that time, I’ve learned to mature and look at things from different and more nuanced perspectives. Then Dynasty Warriors 9 came out and I just gave up because it was clear by then that the apathy had set in. There were some things I recanted on in the past because of flack I got from people, but given the situation we are in now, I’ve decided to stand behind everything I’ve said. I was ashamed to be a Koei Tecmo fan, but I was even more ashamed at the inaction and division within the fanbase, and as I’ve stated earlier, I hope other Koei Tecmo fans are ashamed as well.

I’ve noticed that most of the “opinion-neutral” people I’ve called out over the years really don’t seem to care about anything but playing the games because they’ll go at anyone who dares have an opinion about them, whether it be English dubs, PC ports (Koei Tecmo have really started to get into it now, only a few years too late as usual) or the quality of their games in general, calling them “entitled” or whatever when we’re just expressing our feedback to a company that won’t listen to their fans. These people are just as much a part of the problem because they’re unable to contribute anything or show support for things that don’t affect them (English voices and dual audio options) because their preferences are still there (Japanese voices). I know I like to preach about respecting other people’s opinions, but spineless and short-sighted people like these really test my tolerance, which is part of the reason why I said what I said in the first place. The simple nature of hack-and-slash games like the Koei Warriors series really seem to attract simple-minded people like me, and I think that’s the reason why the Koei Tecmo fanbase has the problems it has. It’s kind of like e-girls with simps on their Twitch streams and OnlyFans accounts.

And by the way, you know what the funniest and saddest thing about the localisation of Dynasty Warriors 9 is? The Empires spinoff was unsurprisingly localised without an English dub, meaning that Koei Tecmo were too cheap to hire the cheap studio they hired to dub the main game in English, let alone in Mandarin. Oh, by the way, in case you missed it in my DW8 retrospective, Koei Tecmo switched from Voicegroup (with all the union voice actors) to Voxx Studios not because of the SAG-AFTRA voice actor strike, but because they were being cheap as usual. They might as well have not made an English dub for it at all, since they’ve essentially made it clear that they’re only making the effort to dub the mainline Dynasty Warriors games. But hey, at least they credited the English voice actors this time, right? Lol, that’s not even a decent compromise. Koei Tecmo only dug this hole for themselves because of their short-sighted business decisions; they are to the gaming industry and localisation what Toei is to international distribution and copyrights.

So anyway, what’s my plan for getting back into the Koei Tecmo fanbase? Like I said, my plans for content already been covered in a separate post. Currently, I’m playing Warriors Orochi 3 Ultimate and Samurai Warriors 4, but only in Japanese because I’m still bitter at Koei Tecmo’s treatment of the games’ localisation. I also downloaded Warriors Orochi 4 as well, but I’ll cross that bridge in regards to reviews if I decide to do it. Of course, I have no intention of getting back into their social media pages or reengaging in discourse regarding English dubs or the like, because I’ve had enough internet slapfights with people who are really no better than I am, if not worse.

People have blamed me for causing harm to the fanbase and that I’ll probably contribute to Koei Tecmo leaving the Western market, which is frankly bullshit because anyone who unironically thinks this has no idea how corporations work and how Koei Tecmo, as a corporation, have no shame in what they’re doing. In spite of all the “fake fan” gatekeeping (which I’ve personally experienced and frankly, think it is absolute bullshit), “real fans” like me (along with Jim, DrakeVagabond, Sex Gravy and the fans of my rants) bring light to things other people won’t talk about, so if Koei Tecmo does end up leaving the Western market, it won’t be because of people like me, it’ll likely be because of other factors (mostly relating to their main Japanese branch) or because they can’t take criticism. A lot of my naysayers from the Rant Series days are no longer on Tumblr, most likely because of the 2018 NSFW ban and I don’t blame them, but everything I’ve said since the DW9 post in 2018 is just one great big “I told you so”.

In the end, when nobody is listening to you, you just do what you can to enjoy what you have. I’m going to wrap up with a paragraph from my DW9 post in 2018 that already sums up the situation perfectly in my opinion (emphasis mine):

On the other hand, I’m not saying that you should blindly show gratitude in the hope that things will be better, because chances are that Koei Tecmo will keep doing what they want within their budget and regardless of what their fans think. If you want to buy this game and support Koei Tecmo, then by all means do that. If you want to voice your feedback on how this game could have been improved, then by all means do that as well. In turn, everyone should accept that people will have different opinions from them and thus, respect the feedback of others. However, if you remain optimistic in the delusion that Koei Tecmo will keep dubbing their games (fully) with the same voice cast from previous games or improve anything to give you a better gaming experience than the average one you have now, then I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but it’s probably not going to happen.

[archons-maid]

Genshin Vampire Headcanons

Characters: Xiao, Kaeya, Venti, Albedo, Tartaglia ( + Diluc as Hunter)

Warnings: mentions of blood, blood- drinking, vampires, murder, a form of self harm (Albedo only)

A/N poorly written cause the sudden idea stroke me down and I had to write it before it dies + English isn’t my first language

Xiao

poor boy if he’s a vampire he will only distance himself more

drank human blood in the past

hates himself for it

he would made hell break loose before he gets near an injured human

only interacts with adepti and non human creatures

uses his additional strength to protect the people of liyue

so much guilt for his desire to drink blood

probably hates his creator

would try to kill him

would kill different vampires that abuse their powers to get blood

if he does get romantically involved with you ( through special circumstances) he’d be super careful

he’d never manipulate your memories

but when he does bite you he’d never forgive himself

abandons you to protect you

“You are in danger as long as I’m near”

but will keep an eye on you from the distance

Kaeya

Oh Boy

always makes vague jokes

“It’s not like I bite...hard”

“Walking around this late at night? Someone might think you are just waiting to get eaten”

Only Jean and Varka (+ Diluc) know about his condition

If he’s thirsty he will charm a pretty citizen, make out and even has the audacity to ask if he can take a bite

actually can manage his thirst quite well

of course they say yes

he’d make them forget after

when he takes interest in you he’ll surely follow you around

always teasing and flirting

if he’s confident enough he might just take a bite without deleting your memories

you are friends friends with Diluc? He’d make sure to always warn you about Kaeya

consumes wine like it’s water without getting drunk

Venti

this motherfucker does what he wants <3

drinks human blood even without permission

never kills though

always makes them forget

regularly drinks from his friends without their knowledge

immediately stops when they show any signs of too much blood loss

also a little guilty

but thinks it’s alright as long as no one gets seriously hurt

when you get close to him you realise something is off

he won’t tell you though

cold skin? the winds are always cold and refreshing

when he catches feelings he’ll try to stop drinking for your sake

fails pretty miserable

never drinks from you

unless you wish for it

then he’ll praise your blood and make fun of your weird kinks

doesn’t get too involved with other vampires

technically could survive a few months without drinking blood, but would never try unless you ask him

Albedo

this boy is a genius

created artificial blood to gain control over his thirst

it’s super bitter and yikes

but he’s a good boy and doesn’t drink from humans (...often)

probably experimented on himself

how fast is the regeneration? How many wounds can he heal at the same time?

willing to injure himself to test out

as isolated as he is in the moment

often in his lab

always make sure that Sucrose and Klee won’t notice his experiments or thirst for blood

he won’t meet either of them when he’s thirsty

when he meets you his thirst definitely increases

craves real blood for the first time and drinks three bottles of his artificial one

if you’re not that close, he’d collect blood from you when there’s a possibility

perhaps when you’re injured after a battle

and he tends to your wounds <3

researches the hell out of your blood

no results though

he’s frustrated

will talk a lot to you to figure out if there’s something special in your family history

as soon as you two get romantic he‘ll stop

kinda accepts that there may be no reason at all

he’s unusually touchy with you

when he’s thirsty and you just happen to be there..-

he‘ll make out with you and take a bite

depending on the reaction he‘ll stop

tries to comfort you and explains himself

if you were crying he‘ll curse himself and tell you how sorry he is

Tartaglia

there🌿was✨a🐈cat🐱that🍄really🌳was🐚gone🌬

this handsome fatui doesn’t really care if he kills someone

all the fatui know of his blood thirst

when he’s thirsty he’ll go out at night and search for a prey

mercilessly drinks until he’s full

dead? oops my bad

won’t delete memories if they survive

when he’s on a mission and isn’t allowed to raise attention

he will drink fatui blood

kills only rarely then

also can manage his blood thirst actually quite well

just chooses not to

doesn’t really drink blood after a fight

he thinks his opponents deserve a little more respect

if you two get along quite well, he’ll instantly tell you about his condition

won’t blame you if you leave

is even more fascinated by you if you stay

“so you’re not even a little bit scared? How foolish of you”

starts making a lot of jokes about biting you

“What? You think I won’t do it? Then let me prove you wrong.”

secretly enjoys drinking from you

Diluc

as soon as he learns of vampires he’ll hunt them down

they are a danger to Mondstadt

always investigates people that talk of memory loss

tries to find an effective weapon

(even though burning them to ashes always works)

always carries a notebook where he writes everything down to protect his memories

absolutely loathes vampires

if Kaeya’s also a vampire and he finds out he’ll be angry

angry that he can’t just kill him

although he’s drinking blood

instead kills a lot wild vampires whenever he’s mad at Kaeya or himself

tries to make Kaeya promise that he won’t drink without permission

maybe he accepts because the challenge is intriguing

when he agrees Diluc is more at ease

you two start dating?

He’ll warn you of every vampire suspect that he has

almost tries to forbid you from wandering at night

“I just want to keep you safe”

especially warns you of a certain cavalry captain

you try to convince him to stop?

he’ll think you have been manipulated

always makes sure to know where you are at night

kinda possessive and dislikes this side of him

[joyfulhopelox]

Rosy Carnation

Pairing: painter!Min Yoongi x skater!reader (non-idol! au)

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

Warnings: some talk about social anxiety, Yoongi is a bit harsh in the beginning but rest is just pure fluff

Word count: 6k

rating: pg

Summary: There was nothing in this world that Yoongi hated more than busybodies. Unfortunately for him one particular ditzy skater decides to break the peace by crashing into his life and offering him a rosy carnation

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner (thank you @mochi-molala for giving me the artistic approval for this think you didn’t realise how much it helped)

This is part 3 of my Love Blossom series and quite unedited, i tried but some mistakes may have escaped my notice

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

There was nothing more peaceful than being able to sit by the river in the early hours of the morning. Every day without fail, Yoongi would take advantage of the sleeping city and set camp by the riverside situated just on the outskirts.

The place was far from being secluded, its location sign-posted by the popular park that housed it. But he knew that during those hours no one bothered to visit, everyone was busy with their office jobs. It wasn’t that he was unemployed, it just so happened that his job allowed him to work from wherever and at whatever time. In fact, the more scenic the location the better for him. As a painter he had the freedom to choose his office, and his most prefered location happened to be by the riverside. The stillness of the morning, the sun just about to peek out from under the city skyline and the sound of the birds conversing amongst each other relaxed him. And if there was one thing that permitted Yoongi to paint without restrictions, was the tranquility of everything around him.

His normal spot, under a beech tree, was rarely used, the pathway that passed by it not being used by the general population. Sometimes he would spot the occasional cyclist passing by on their way to work, sometimes he would hear the scraping of the skateboards doing tricks in the skate park located behind the wall of trees that surrounded him. But no one ever bothered him, or was bothered by him. And it suited him and his needs just fine.

Yoongi disliked it when his flow was interrupted. Luckily for him, it rarely happened. No one threw him more than a glance as no one found the scene to be out of place. Sometimes he would be pulled out of his thoughts by the yap of a dog that got too excited at the prospect of a new human. Other times he would be questioned by the curious child that has never seen a painter at work. Those did not inconvenience him, the innocence and sincerity of the interference was enough to not disturb him.

However, what he miscalculated that day was the early start of the fishing season. One bad trait of being a painter working under your own schedule was losing track of time. And so when that one morning he trudged along with his canvas and his tools to his sacred spot only to find it occupied by fishermen he almost had a panic attack. He forgot all about that, and so unprepared, he did not know what to do or where to relocate. Pausing for a couple of minutes, his eyes scrutinising the men sitting on the riverbank in complete stillness, he contemplated on setting up his stool next to them. But when one of them yelled in glee at having caught a fish, he decided he’d rather not. Fishermen needed to be still because of the nature of their activity, that did not mean they were quiet people overall.

Disappointed and a bit frazzled, Yoongi picked up his canvas from where he set it next to his foot and left the area to scout for a substitute.

After what felt like a good few minutes of walking in circles, he found himself passing by a small public garden right in the middle of the greenery encompassing the riverside. He inspected it quietly, his eyes taking in the flower arrangements and the neatly cut grass. Has that always been there? Probably, it is not like he ventured out of his safe spot. But now, when forced to he realised that maybe there were other places where he could sit and paint in peace. Determinately, he walked into the small gated garden familiarising himself with the layout. There were some benches strewn across the space, all of them framed by vibrant rose bushes, some young oak trees judging by their height but what caught his eye most importantly was the small gazebo tucked away at the back of the garden gated by rows of variously coloured carnations. He decided that it would be the perfect spot, it would have to do for now. Not like he had any other choice. The morning was almost gone, the heat of the midday sun bleeding its way into the breeze. Soon the park will get busier and busier.

Dumping his belongings on the ground he sets off to unpack everything so he could get started. He felt strangely excited about this new spot he had found. Somehow, the novelty of the environment has given him the inspiration that he needed for today’s session. He normally shied away from new experiences, new people and most importantly unexpected circumstances, but this circumstance was more than welcome.

As he sat on his stool, paint brush in hand, the blank canvas staring at him, daring him to fill it with his vision he bit his lip. Suddenly so many ideas zoomed through his mind that he had a hard time deciphering which one sounded the best.

However, none of them made it on the actual canvas.

A skateboard zoomed straight past his feet,out of control, knocking into his carefully placed tools; acrylics and brushes scattered all over the ground in various corners of the gazebo. An exasperated yell and some harsh pants followed said abomination. Yoongi, who was too stunned to even form a sentence or comprehend what was happening around him, stared as you ran towards him at full speed.

“I’m so sorry, sorry sorry sorry” you repeated zooming towards him at breakneck speed. Still in shock Yoongi still couldn’t process what was happening around him. You were going to barrel straight into him but all he could do was blink, his brain still trying to catch up with the situation. One moment you were running towards the skateboard and the next moment found you laying sprawled at his feet.

“Ouch” Yoongi blinked once, twice, three times, and reality finally caught up with him.

He stared at the mess around him. His canvas was lying on the ground a few good feet away from him, its white clean surface now completely smudged with dirt and his acrylics and brushes were all scattered at his feet. The sight of his paints not only disorganised in such a fashion but also crushed and spilled all over the ground caused his stomach to drop. They were not the cheapest and they were also the only ones he had left. It was clear there was nothing to salvage, he had to go once more to the art store and buy more.

“Ohmygod i am so sorry!” The frantic voice was loud enough to make Yoongi wince.

You were not having a good day, and it showed. You started the morning by burning your toast. Then you forgot to grab your keys, which resulted in you having to beg your landlord for the spare in the early hours of the morning. To say they were not pleased was an understatement. You spilled coffee on your white top on your way to the park. And to top it all off you ended up hurtling towards an extremely handsome man.

You decided in the morning that you would try to learn that late kickflip your friends have been trying to teach you, but as a new skater you decided to practice in the garden just off the side of the skate park. One foot placement went wrong and your skate ran from under your feet flying towards the unsuspecting victim.

Luckily it did not hit him, however it scattered all of his belongings all over the dirty ground. It felt as if you were watching all of that happen in slow motion, when in reality it probably only took you a second to react. Trying to help and get a hold of your skate, you rushed to catch it in time before it disappeared into the row of carnations. But you miscalculated entirely the distance between you and the stranger, his foot halting your run.

And that is how you ended up there, on the floor, at his feet, covered in his paints.

You sprung up as fast as you could ignoring the tingling in your leg and started apologising profusely. However, the harshness at which you crashed on the floor combined with the speed at which you got up were a fatal combination. The blood rushed to your feet quicker than you could process and your knees gave out from under you. In an attempt to not crash onto the floor again you grabbed onto the closest stable object you could. Only, it happened to not be an object but a person. So with a clammy hand you latched onto the man in front of you.

Yoongi did not know what to do. You had grabbed onto him with such conviction that his brain malfunctioned. He hated to be touched, especially by strangers. And so when the fight or flight instinct kicked in he shrugged you off violently causing you to crumple on the floor once again.

“Ouch.” Your butt hurt and you wanted to be annoyed at him, but when you looked up to let your feelings known and your eyes locked onto his panicked ones, you paused. He looked ready to run off on you. “I- uh, am sorry” You tried once more to get up, this time as slowly as you could. You knew there would be a bruise later but it was not something you were unfamiliar with.

Yoongi did not respond to you. He couldn’t, his brain was still ready to shut down. He normally ran away from any human interaction, the nature of his job enough to facilitate such behaviour. Being faced with it and in such an unexpected way caused his anxiety to be at an all time high. And so he did what he normally does best; he retreated within himself completely ignoring your apology.

Silently he stepped away from you and crouched down to start picking up his belongings. With an anguished sigh he took in the mess that his acrylics had become. It was going to cost him a lot to be able to replace them but what other choice did he have?

Taking his silence as a sign of anger, you panicked. If there was one thing you could not stand was to see someone angry. Especially when it was directed at you. In an attempt to amend yourself to him you crouched down next to him and started picking up his stuff. “I am really sorry. I didn't mean to. It was just a new trick that i wanted to learn, and i am a newbie at all this and so i was scared to go to the skate park and try them. And I am a clutz and I knew this was going to happen at some point! The day has already started on such a bad note-”

You knew you were rambling, you were nervous. But Yoongi did not care about that. He just wanted you gone. He wanted his peace back, he wanted to get his work done and retreat back to his home and most importantly, he wanted you to get your hands off of his possessions.

Without looking at you, he harshly grabbed for the brushes that you had gathered in your hand. “Leave” he surprised himself at how resolute he managed to sound despite the slight waver in his voice.

“Are you angry? Oh my god you are! I am so sorry again, let me make it up to you! I really did not mean to destroy your work!” you get up once more rushing towards the canvas that lay a few feet away from the two of you. Picking it up you stare at the blank piece of material.

“Oh, are you an artist?” you turn to him, your eyes sparkling with excitement. Completely forgetting the incident from earlier you giddily walk over, the canvas extended towards him.

Yoongi could not believe his eyes, your brash behaviour in front of a complete stranger that has made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you was baffling to him. He contemplated for a second the thought of you being deaf, but then no because you had clearly heard him the first time. His anxiety quickly morphed into annoyance, if you weren’t going to leave he decided he would.

Taking a hold of the canvas you were handing over to him he pulled it out of your hands and stuffed it under his arm. Crouching down again he hurriedly stuffs his brushes and acrylics in his bag. He wanted to get out of there as quickly as he could before you had the chance to touch any of his belongings again.

“Hey, i-uh. Please don’t be angry. I really am sorry. Look you don’t have to leave, i will go” Yoongi paused, his hand hovering above his palette. Chancing a glance at you, his eyes widened a fraction. You looked completely frazzled. Not even looking at him, your eyes focused on your fretting hands. He could just about see a snippet of your face and the way your bottom lip was trembling slightly made his anger melt a little. Maybe he has been a bit too harsh on you.

“Yes” he offers offhandedly whilst placing his canvas back to where it was before.

At his change in tone your head snaps up and you gape at him. “What?” you breathe out in surprise. His soft but deep voice took you by surprise. It was extremely smooth and you had not expected it to come out of his mouth.

He did not offer you anything else, leaving you gawking at him, watching as he set up his canvas onto the easel. You were silent for a couple of minutes trying to understand what he had meant when it finally hit you.

“Ah! You are an artist! That is amazing, what type of paintings do you do? Is it nature?” you clapped your hands excitedly. “Of course it is nature Y/N, he is in the middle of the gazebo how dumb can you be” you muttered to yourself whilst shaking your head.

Yoongi glanced at you from his periphery. He wasn’t feeling as threatened by your presence as he had before, but that did not mean he was comfortable with you being there. He observed you for a couple of seconds watching as you muttered to yourself for the time being. He took it as a chance to set his palette down and tried to squeeze whatever was left of his acrylics onto it.

You realised a bit too late that you had started daydreaming whilst muttering to yourself and so with rosy cheeks you mutter another apology.

“You apologise too much.” Yoongi did not know where his courage had come from but he couldn’t stop the words spilling from his mouth. “I asked you to leave.” His harsh words caused you to flinch, but your eagerness to see him paint rooted you on the spot.

“Is-uh,” you took a deep breath in trying to calm your beating heart, “is it ok if i stay here and watch you?” You cringed at how voyeuristic that sounded. But you had to admit to yourself, the honey haired guy, with soft plump cheeks and pouty lips has caught your interest and you were not ready to part with him just yet.

Yoongi didn’t respond, he’s made it clear he wanted you gone, but he finally understood that the clumsy human that managed to wreck his set up was a stubborn one. He chose instead to ignore your presence and settle on his painting, giving you unspoken permission to do as you pleased.

Catching onto the meaning of his silence you beamed and sat yourself down.

Trying your hardest to be silent you bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t appreciate you disturbing him any longer. Soon enough, you slipped into a daydream your eyes focused on the flowers behind the hunched form of the intriguing artist.

Yoongi sighed in satisfaction, his painting was finally finished. He had opted to use greens this time, the nature around him inspiring the concept behind this. However, he could not help but add the dots of red here and there, its fiery tumultuous colour breaking the tranquility of the greens. Just like you had thundered into his life just earlier.

“Woah” broken out of the daydream by the sound of his sigh, your eyes focused on the painting before you. You knew you were easily impressed but this painting was stunning. “That is so cool” you whispered in awe.

Yoongi blushed, he had been complimented a lot on his work, but there was something about the sincerity shining through your statement that frazzled him. He nodded in acknowledgment. He had enough knowledge to be aware that he needed to thank you for the compliment.

“Oh!” you sprung up suddenly the transition making him jump. “I am late!” You quickly picked up your skateboard. “Ah,” stopping mid run you turn back. Rushing to the bushes of carnations you pick one up. With confident stride you head back.

Yoongi watched you, once again his mind completely discombobulated by your abruptness. When you halt in front of him and push the flower into his hands he doesn’t know how to react. Instead he just sits there waiting for your next move, his mind once again preparing him to flee.

“It was nice meeting you….uh?” You realised you did not ask for his name, so as you urge the flower into his grasp you wait patiently for him to offer it to you. When after a minute of silence he doesn’t you try again. “What is your name?”

“So can you like...teach me how to paint?” you eyes brightened at the thought.

“What?” Yoongi sputtered. A week has passed since the first time you decided to literally crash into his life. A week of your mindless chatter. Even so, he had tried his best to ignore you and your childish view of the world. He was ignoring you, but it was not like he couldn’t hear you.

He was not expecting that request, and yet, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him. Your randomness and innocence has been taking his breath away from the moment he saw you. You were all over the place, clumsy and random. He did not want to sit and ponder at that thought, feeling the shiver of anxiety creep back in. Schooling his expression to a neutral one he shook his head and went back to his canvas.

“No” the harsh tone of his voice made you flinch.

Not noticing the effect his words had on you he carried on, “You’d do a very poor job of it, and it hurts to think you’d waste all this material for some doodles.” Not giving you a chance to respond he sighed and put his brush down. “Finally finished.” He sat and observed his work for a couple of moments. He was satisfied, it was not his best work but he liked the outcome. The blue colour scheme gave him a sense of peace.

Realising the silence had gone on too long he turned around to face you. You were unnaturally quiet, your face scrunched up as if in deep thought. He would have thought you’d gone into one of your daydreams if not for the shiny gloss in your eyes. He could not understand why his heart did that flip, or why his mouth formed into a frown mirroring your own. Had he said something wrong? Mulling over his words he decided that maybe his tone was too harsh but you spoke up before he could try to remedy it.

“Ah, i see, you are right” you sniffed trying to mask the tears in your voice. “I am quite clumsy, there is no way i can make something as beautiful as this.” You gesture to his work, the canvas a swirl of blues, it reminded you of the ocean. You did not know why his words stung, it’s not like he didn’t have a point. You were probably incapable of creating something like that. Stick figures were all you could draw, and even those tended to be lopsided.

Yoongi’s heart clenched. “Uhh-” he did not know what to say, it wasn’t as if he could take it back. He did not want to take it back, he wasn’t a liar. But maybe he could have turned you down a bit softer than he has. He may have been awkward in social situations and missed a lot of cues, but the tears gathered in your eyes were hard to miss. Even he could sense the sadness that overpowered the atmosphere.

“It’s ok, i need to, uh go. I’ll see you next time. Here” you quickly drop something next to his brushes and without a second thought you turn away from him and leave as quickly as you’d arrived.

With your back turned towards him, your feet taking you further and further away you could finally release the sob that has been threatening to surface.His words hurt. But you were well aware it was not the words that caused the tear in your heart. It was the unfeeling and harsh way he threw them at you. You contemplated whether or not you should chance a glance behind you, but decided against it. You did not think you could stand the sight of him stepping on the last bit of dignity you had. A rosy carnation.

Yoongi knew he usually missed a lot of social cues. For example when the curator asked him out for a coffee and he told them he stopped drinking caffeine because it caused insomnia. Or when the gallery director had wanted to shake his hand in greeting and he simply just stared at it. It wasn’t as if he was unfamiliar with them, it was just that it took him a lot longer to process these cues than the average human being.

When you’d left him the carnation he simply threw a glance at it but did not give it a second thought as he carried on painting. He almost left it there when he packed up his tools- almost stepping on it. He saw it just in time, the rosy colour attracting his attention. He bent down and picked it up gently; the flower was almost wilted from the heat. Prepared to throw it away he thought of you and stopped. The sight of your flushed cheeks, your distressed eyes and the gleam of your tears weighing heavily on his mind. With a sigh he cradled the flower in his palm, he would put it in between the pages of a book and press it dry.

Yoongi had no clue why he kept visiting the gazebo to work on his paintings. His previous spot so rarely visited that he’s almost forgotten where it was. He tried to convince himself it was because fishing season has not ended and so he would have been bothered by the men setting up around him. He tried not to think of the fact that the thought of not having your voice there, or the noises of the skateboard you practiced with caused him distress. He told himself it was because after a month of having you there with him, you became part of his routine. Like the background noise of a radio in the morning.

He could not pinpoint when your mindless chatter and pleas to ask him to teach you how to paint had become comforting to him. Even at home when he would try to read, he would pick up a book and open it only to come across a rosy carnation drying in between its pages.

You had made it a habit to leave him a flower every time you came to see him. He did not ponder too long as to why, but he’s kept them all. He did not want to ponder too long on that thought either. So he ignored it, but deep down he knew why.

Your eagerness, your clumsiness, your childish view of the world were enough to melt the wall he has built around himself. Somehow, you chipped at that wall with determination just like you did on the first day you met. Ungraceful and uncoordinated.

He knew you’d wormed your way into his soul and just like the flowers he kept pressing for safekeeping, he’s ingrained the memory of you into his brain.

When you’d started to ask more personal questions he found himself answering without a second thought.

“So, uh, have you always wanted to be a painter?” You were sat next to him tinkering with the wheels of your skateboard, from time to time getting distracted at the way his long fingers were clutching the brush. You blushed, thankful he was distracted by his work.

“No,” Yoongi paused to bend down and pick his palette and you thought that was the extent of the information he was willing to provide. “My parents wanted me to be a lawyer.” With a new colour on his brush he squinted focusing on getting the lines just right, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.

The silence that ensued settled heavily around the two of you. “Oh,” your voice did not sound too surprised. Yoongi glanced at you, you were gazing at him with such understanding that he found it hard to tear his gaze away. “Are they happy you chose to do what you love instead?” You carried on, trying out your luck.

Yoongi looked away from you, he couldn’t say what he wanted to say whilst your eyes were digging deep into his soul. “I wouldn’t know.” He shrugged as if to make a point. “I left home to move here and haven’t spoken to them since.”

The words, heavy as lead, echoed in your brain. But they were not unfamiliar. “I am sure they would want to talk to you. My parents died when i was young and i was raised by my grandparents.” Your voice sounded casual, but the slight change of tone made Yoongi raise his eyes to look at you. You were smiling at him, your face not giving away any of the pain you were feeling inside.

Yoongi may have been socially anxious, but he was observant, he couldn’t help it, it was the nature of his job. His eyes picked up on the way your chin trembled and his ears caught the slight waver in your voice. He didn’t know how it happened until he felt the corners of his mouth raising up. And with an uncertain smile in your direction, he managed to erase the sadness that clouded over your face.

“Pick up that brush” his tone softer than you have ever heard it.

“Huh?” You didn’t know where the change in tone had come from, but it managed to take you by surprise.

“Pick up the brush,” he repeated his head nodding in the direction of said tools. “And come here.” He stood up from his stool gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you up. The contact of his cold hands on your warm ones made you shiver, but in the heat of the summer it felt comforting. You savoured the way his gentle hands pulled you into the chair and handed you the brush he had been holding. Softly he guided your hand onto the canvas and your breath stopped.

His hands, the hands you had been observing ever since you met him, were smooth. His long slender fingers imprinting themselves onto the back of your hand. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from the way the pale skin of his slender wrist peeked from under the long sleeve he was wearing. The skin on the inside of his wrist almost translucent enough to allow his veins to show.

“Like this” he steered the brush onto the canvas, his voice so close to your ear it made you your heart skip a beat. When the bristles made contact with the material of the canvas leaving the mark of the acrylic on it, you knew. Just like the doodle he’s made, his mark on your heart would be permanent.

Yoongi didn’t know when he started craving your touch. It just happened. He carried on giving you lessons, finding it ironic how adamant he was at the beginning to refuse you. Little by little he started looking forward to his morning ritual of setting up in the garden, your clumsy self stumbling in the gazebo just as he was about to set his easel down. He would not even sit himself first, he would grab your hand allowing himself to revel in the way your smaller rough hand would fit into his larger one and sit you on the stool. Handing you the brushes he would sit next to your skateboard and watch as you tried to create something on the canvas, your brows furrowed in concentration.

How ironic that you would switch places. He would sit for a couple of hours watching your uncertain movements and listen to the small sounds of glee when you’d manage to get the brush to do what you wanted it to. His heart would pound in his chest when your tongue would flit across your lips subconsciously and the small smile gracing his lips would be a permanent fixture on his face. He did not care that he hasn’t painted in a few weeks. He was more than satisfied watching you.

When your painting session would end you’d end up talking for hours under the shade of the gazebo, the smell of flowers wafting all around you.

And you would always leave with lighter hears and the crinkle of a smile indented in the corner of your eyes and him with a rosy carnation cradled to his chest waiting to join the rest of the others.

When one morning you didn’t arrive at your usual time under the gazebo Yoongi noticed. He decided to wait for you for hours, but when the sun bled under the city skyline and the night settled in he decided it was time to go home. With a heavy heart and an empty hand he returned home hoping that the next day you would arrive and tell him about your day.

But one day turned into two, which turned into a week, which then turned into two- and before he knew it a whole month had passed.

In the beginning Yoongi would wait for you patiently, hoping that he would hear your yelps or even your greeting from afar. When that did not happen, he decided he would use that time to continue painting, maybe you’d arrive halfway through and ask him about it. When that didn’t happen either he noticed that instead of a smile on his face he now wore a frown.

After a whole month of not seeing you he became numb to the feeling. He decided that he would not let his mind ponder too much on your absence. But he could not completely block the way his thoughts would return back to you, and he could not help the wistful gaze he would throw the carnations around the gazebo.

As the months of summer wilted into the chill of autumn, the day he decided to stop waiting for you was the day you once again stumbled into him.

Running as fast as your leg permitted you halted a meter away from him, your breath coming out in harsh pants. Yoongi faltered, the grasp he had on his brush slackening, the tool clattering to the ground. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. Instead his eyes took in the way your form trembled with exhaustion, stopping at the wrapped up parcel you had under your arm.

“I am so so so sorry” you rasped, the effort causing you to cough. Looking up at him, your gaze met his dark one. He did not look upset, or even disinterested. He looked concerned, then you realised the state you came to see him in.

Yoongi took notice immediately at the lack of skateboard, this time replaced by a crutch. The way you were favouring one leg over the other concerned him. Had you been in an accident?

“I am so sorry,” you repeated, taking him back to the first moment he’s met you. Your clumsy self apologising incessantly and rambling in nervousness. “I fell one day whilst on the way here, and i broke my leg. I did not mean to stop showing up i promise! I had wanted to come see you as soon as i left the doctor’s office but the injury was worse than i could have suspected and- and” your voice wavered, trembling in exhaustion, still not having caught your breath.

Yoongi got up without a word, his silent form approaching yours. When only a few inches were left between the two of you he places both of his hands on your shoulders halting your apology. Looking up at him your gaze softens, his eyes were glossy but his mouth curled up in a smile.

“You’re ok” he repeated over and over as if to reassure himself. Your eyes now mirroring his own watery ones you nod.

In a flash he hugs you tightly, your crutch clattering to the ground and the parcel under the other arm making a dull thud as it hit the dirty floor. You gasped in surprise, your arms not knowing where to settle themselves. After a couple of seconds your brain catches up and relaxes and you melt into his hug. Despite his hands being always cold, his hug is warm and inviting.

You think back to the first time you met, how his cold words told you to leave him be. The drastic change in his attitude and demeanour make you smile softly. You burrowed your head in his shoulder inhaling his scent. He smelt of oils and acetone with an undertone of something floral, and you gasp. Carnations.

As if remembering something important you pulled yourself away from his touch, the cold autumn air making you shiver at the loss of contact.

Yoongi is confused for a moment, his eyes widening in panic. Has he made the wrong move? Has he read your intentions wrong? His heart clenches at the thought of you not returning the feelings that bloomed in his chest. But when you offer him a reassuring smile and bend down, grabbing onto his arm for support his emotions settle.

“This is for you” your hands were shaking. Handing over the mysterious parcel, you waited patiently for him to take it.

He glances at it uncertainly, but when you push it towards him his hand wraps around it. With as much skill as he could he opened it with one hand. Tearing the paper away he gasped. The corner of a canvas is sticking through the whole.

Looking at you in surprise your nervous eyes urge him to carry on. So he does.

The paper now completely teared open, his eyes settle onto a familiar flower painted onto the canvas. A carnation.

You watched him open your gift. You had tried your hardest during the time you were stuck at home with a cast on to practice and after weeks of painful frustrated tears, you’d finally managed to get it right. You had wanted to convey your feelings in a way that he would understand without feeling the pressure to conform to societal norms. To show him how much his effort to accommodate you and include you in his secluded life meant to you.

“Did you know,” you were whispering, “that rosy carnations mean admiration?”

Yoongi finally got it, realisation dawning over his features. He looked up at you, overwhelmed by the emotions flooding his chest. You were still smiling at him a tear now running down your cheek. “I wanted to convey my admiration for you in a way that would be permanent.” The hand on his arm tightened as if you make a point. “So i tried my best to do that.”

Yoongi smiled, not the uncertain smile you were used to, a full smile, the gums of his teeth showing, his features softening.

“A painting is not eternal, but with the artist the painting it over and over again it can be.” His free hand cups your cheek gently. “So stay with me.”

Main Masterlist

[onewingedxngel]

Get me out of doubt once and for all, Sephiroth is a villain or an antagonist?

I think he’s both. 

He’s irrefutably an antagonist, since he stands as the main obstacle to the protagonist (Cloud). This is simply a fact of the story.

A villain? Absolutely! He kills innocents without mercy and wishes to destroy every life form on the planet, as well as the planet itself; which is a goal borne from his own rage and pain. He is not acting out of concern for a greater good (which could be argued if his only goal was to destroy humanity alone, or a large portion of it), but rather, to further his own wants. He destroys for himself, and not some greater reason.

BUT. At the same time, he is very much a victim. He isn’t just evil for the sake of being evil, and he doesn’t go around killing others ‘for the LOLZ’. 

He was created by humans to be used by them, initially to find the promised land, and when it turned out this was not possible, he was then manipulated and trained to become the personal weapon of the mega-corporation that created him. This was all out of his control. From a young age, he was raised to kill (as shown in how he, going off the timeline, began to fight against Wutai around 11/12 years old, and was very successful in doing so). He was genetically enhanced with strength and power beyond anything that lived on Gaia, and made to use it to further the interests of Shinra. Judging from how he was raised, his violent actions are in no way a surprise, because it’s all he’s ever really known.

Also, the fact that he was so suddenly faced with the truth behind his existence. That he only exists because humans wanted to use him. He is not the miracle he was raised to believe, he is a genetically engineered abomination that should have never existed at all– and the only reason he does is because of human greed. This realisation that everything he ever was, and ever will be, only occured because some scientists wished to exploit him. Even one of the few people he ever trusted in his life, Professor Gast, had been a leader and avid supporter of the project that created him, only backing out when he realised JENOVA was not a Cetra– and, by extension, Sephiroth was a failed result of the experiment.

You also need to consider that, when he realised the truth... he was completely alone. Not only did he realise that he should not exist, that everything he’d known was a lie... he also had no one to turn to. Professor Gast, who is implied to have been like a father to him... even he was a part of the lies. And Zack, arguably his closest friend in the OG game... he barely bothered to check up on him during the days he’d locked himself in the library, tormented by his revelation.

His hatred for humanity, for all living things, for the planet itself, his lack of remorse, the joy he takes in the pain of others... it is all born from his agony. And, although this is my interpretation, I think his wish to ascend into a God is born from his will to defy not just the humans, but the very world that created him.

So. Sephiroth is an antagonist. And I’d certainly say he is a villain. But he is a tragic and sympathetic one, to the point where I wouldn’t call him evil. His actions, sure, but him? No. He is a victim of his circumstances, of human greed; and his tragedy is that he simply cannot exist out of said circumstances. I’ve said this before, but Sephiroth would not be Sephiroth without the horrific experiments that lead to his existence.

Also I totally want him to win regardless

[berkowitzbrat]

Berkowitz and the Inverted Electra

Hello! Well, this is where i’ve been all this time. This post required a lot of sourcing and research, and therefore a lot of time, because it’s very theoretical. Anyway, here’s my magnum opus. Enjoy.

An Electra Complex is defined by the psychosexual relationship between a girl (or, in the ‘inverted’ sense, a boy) and her (his) mother, coupled with a sexual desire to possess their father. Oedipal and Electral urges originate during the Phallic (3rd) stage of psychosexual development.

As a male, Berkowitz would be expected to cleave to the Oedipal urges to kill his father/possess his mother; however, I don’t think this is the case. The Phallic stage takes place between the ages of 3-6 years old, around the time that Berkowitz was informed of his biological mother’s death, and his biological father’s abandonment of him. This, coupled with the continuous image of death surrounding women as he was growing up [1], helped to solidify this inverted Electral urge, the fascination with death&women and possession&men. In terms of possession and men, Berkowitz would have thought that only his biological father was still alive, and this developed (particularly later in his life) a great need to find his father, to reclaim some part of himself, and rid himself of the guilt he felt for driving his father away after (as he thought) killing his mother [2]. Another scenario during which he exhibited possession&men linked directly to death/control&women was when he would be taken to indoor pools and witnessed the thrall and power which men held over women, particulalry in situations in which there is sexual subtext, such as changing rooms [3]. 

So, great. He’s attracted to the same sex (more on this later) and death&women are interdependent concepts for him. What next? For Freud, it’s the Latency stage. This stage begins at age 7 and continues until puberty, which for boys is around 12/13 years old. This is the stage at which the Oedipal/Electral complexes begin to dissolve in order to decrease the tension and take on their  gender role (whatever that may be) as the child realises that sexual gratification exists without, not within, their parents. At this stage is usually when the child begins to become more comfortable with the same sex parent--but David has always been more attracted to the idea of his biological father, as it is all he has. It could be said, then, that the Electra complex was forced upon him by circumstance, the circumstance of his adoptive-father’s lie about his biological parents. Regardless, Berkowitz eventually becomes very close to his adoptive mother, Pearl, and began to vie for her attention, such as poisoning her parakeets in order to have nothing to compete with for her affection [4]. The typical progression of Berkowitz is entirely inverted in terms of Freudian psychosexual stages. This is a stage of negated sexuality, hence the attatchment, traditionally, to the parent of the same sex, and to make friends of the same sex; however, because Freud’s an asshole, he doesn’t consider that ✨homosexuality✨ is a concept and thinks that all children must go to the parent/friends of the same sex as sexuality cannot be prompted here. But we can take liberties here because we live in the real world. There’s nothing abnormal about Berkowitz, he was just following the pyschosexual stages as somebody interested in the same sex.

Woah! You say. But he killed women because of pent-up sexual frustration! The gun is his penis!

Sure. For most; but I’ve always felt that Berkowitz did things a little bit... differently.

The Genital stage, or the final stage, begins at puberty (12/13) and continues/ends into adulthood. As traumatising as Pearl’s death was for David, her death coincided perfectly for her metaphorical death in the psyche of 13-year-old David. During the Genital stage, sexuality is no longer ‘hidden’ (latent), and rather becomes a thing necessary to be fulfilled for emotional release. Attention turns once more to the gender in which one is interested, and David, growing up in the culture that he did, turned to women. At 15, he had his first sexual experience, a blowjob, and sources (unknown) state that he preferred ‘oral sex and petting over regular intercourse’[5]. It would be plausible that he perhaps came to prefer this, considering his one known experience with ‘regular intercourse’ resulted in a venereal disease, but I’ve always contended that maybe he preferred so-called ‘petting’ due to his... less favourable position with heterosexuality. But, as I said, I feel as if David did not explore, or rather felt he could not explore, his sexuality until later on in his life (and, even then, due to his Baptist beliefs, promoted homophobic views because, y’know, Christianity and being born in the 50s) and was, in fact, more interested in men than women. If this is grabbing at straws for anyone, I will mention his ‘homosexual fling’ [6] with inmate Gary Evans, who was long suspected to be bisexual/homosexual due to his collecting of gay magazines and, according to Hugo Harmatz, ‘love letters’[citation needed] from Berkowitz stashed amongst them.

An addendum about Berkowitz’s latent stage: when he was around 10 years old, his parents had sex whilst he was in the same bed [8]. What could be more confusing, traumatising, and shaping, than your parents doing... that... during one of the most sexually devoid periods of your life! I believe this shaped his view of performance hugely. He was shown, at a formative period, that it was okay to perform in a sexually motivated manner whilst other people were around--non-consenting other people, at that. I believe that this is the reason he took his killing out into the open. It was a sexual thrill, the killings. It was heavily related to the sexual negation of wanting to kill your mother in order to  possess your father. I am by no means saying that this is Berkowitz’s 100% proven, uncontestable motive, but the ideas of psychosexual analysis seem to apply to him in an accurate and very curious way. The traditional, heterosexual view of these stages do not match up to his psychology, but the homosexual interpretation does. 

So, we move forward to his early 20s. He returns from Korea, looking for his father, the only piece of his biological existence he believes to be alive. He still wishes, all these years later, to possess the father--the destruction of the woman has only intensified after multiple failed attempts at dating, a horrendous virginity-loss experience, and the frustration surrounding an attempt at heterosexuality. But, here we stand: his biological mother is alive, and his biological father is the one who is dead. How terribly, terribly confusing. And still, Berkowitz attempts a relationship with his biological mother and half-sister. This goes south, however, when he discovers that he was given up due to being born out of wedlock, and he drops contact with his biological family.

The disollusionment is unfathomable. His biological father, his raison d’etre, is dead. His adoptive father has moved to Florida with his new wife: this new wife has fulfiled Berkowitz’s Electra Complex, in his mind, at least. Kill the mother. Take the father. His biological mother is not who he wanted to have. His adoptive mother is dead. What is left? A display of fulfilment, sexual fulfilment, as public as it has always been shown to him--through the bedroom of his parents, through the public changing rooms. Murder on the streets. Getting to kill a woman as he always thought he had been decreed to from birth, from his first supposed mother, his biological mother.

(bibliography under the cut. thank you for reading)

Bibliography:

Radford University: Berkowitz, David [3, 8]

Simply Psychology: 5 Stages of Psychosexual Development

Tumblr/Berkowitzbrat: Exploring the Why [1]

Tumblr/True Crime and Cannibalism: David Berkowitz’s Timeline [5]

Westchester Magazine: David Berkowitz’s History in Westchester County [4]

Wikipedia: Phallic stage, Latency stage, Genital stage

Wordpress/Can’t Stop the Bleeding: How to Stuff a Wild Bikini [6]

Youtube: David Berkowitz: In His Own Words (1/9) [2]

And here’s my whole folder of resources for general Berkowitz reading materials and media: https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1VKlZJwRR4bpoPzO7AejAMtAJaVoBGuTg

[freddiekluger]

Why Cap Being Internally Closeted Is Not Only Possible, But Valid Representation 

i wrote this to a lot of mitski and onsind, so you can’t blame me for any feelings that bleed through

now i don’t know if it actually exists, but i’ve heard of there being a lot of discourse surrounding the captains story arc regarding his sexuality- i believe the general gist is that having a queer character that remains closeted to themselves is either unrealistic or ‘bad’ representation, and as someone who really treasures the captain and relates to his story so far a lot, i thought i might break this down a bit. 

i’ve divded up every complaint i’ve heard about this into four main questions which i’ll be covering below the ‘keep reading’, because this is gonna be pretty comprehensive. full disclaimer i reference my experiences as an ex-evangelical non binary butch lesbian a couple times, and i spent a year studying repression and the psychological impacts of high demand sexual ethics for my graduating sociology paper, so this is coming with some background to it i swear

the big questions:

can you EVEN be gay and not know it????

but isn't this just ANOTHER coming out arc, and aren't we supposed to be moving beyond those?

but if cap can't have a relationship with a man because he's a ghost, what's the point?

since cap's dead, isn't this technically bury your gays, and isn't that bad? 

1. "but is it really possible to not know? Isn't that bad representation?"

short answer: no and no.

before i get into the validity of the captain's ignorance about his own orientation as 21st century rep, let's break down how the hell the captain can be so clearly attracted to men and still not even consider the possibility that he might be gay, as brought to you by someone who literally experienced this shit.

the captain's particular situation is both a direct result of the lack of information around human sexuality he would have had (aka clear messaging that it's actually possible for him to be attracted to men. i don't mean acceptable or allowed, i mean physically capable of happening- the idea that orientations other than heterosexual exist and are available to him, a man), and a subconscious survival mechanism. the environment in which he lives is outright hostile to gay people, while the military man identity he has constructed for himself doesn't allow for any form of deviation from societal norms, let alone one so base level and major. as a result of this killer combo of information and environment, instincts take over and the mind does it's best to repress the ‘deviant’ feelings until a. one of these two things changes, or b. the act of repression becomes so destructive and/or exhuasting that it becomes impossible to maintain. the key to maintaining a long-term state of repression of desire is diverting that energy elsewhere, and a high-demand group such as the military is the perfect place for the captain to do this (this technqiue is frequented by religions and extremist ideologies worldwide, but that’s not really what we’re here to focus on). 

while the brain is actively repressing ‘deviant’ feelings (aka gay shit), this doesn't mean you don't experience the feelings at all. when performed as a subconscious act of survival, the aim of repression is to minimise/transform the feelings into a state where they can no longer cause immediate danger, and something as big as sexual/romantic orientation is going to keep popping up, but as long as the individual in question never understands what they’re feeling, they’ll be able to continue relatively undisturbed. you know how in heist movies, the leader of the group will only tell each team member part of the plan so they can’t screw things up for everyone else if they get caught? it’s kind of like that.

this is how the captain appears to have operated in life AND in death, and it’s a relatively common experience for lgbtq people who’ve grown up in similar circumstances (aka with a lack of information and in an unfriendly-to-hostile environment), and accounts for how some people can even go on to get married and have children before realising that they’re gay and/or trans. 

personally, while i can now identify what were strong homo crushes all the way back to childhood, at the time i genuinely had no idea. there was the underlying sense that i probably shouldn't tell people how attached i was to these girls because i would seem weird, and that my feelings were stronger than the ones other people used to describe friendships, but like-like them in the way that other girls like-liked boys? no way! actually scratch that, it wasn't even a no way, because i had no idea that i even could. i even had my own havers, at least in terms of the emotional hold and devotion she got from me, except she treated me way less well than cap’s beau. snatches of the existence of lgbt people made it through the cone of silence, i definitely heard the words gay and lesbian, but my levels of informations mirrored those that the captain would have had: virtually none, beyond the idea that these words exist, some people are them, and that's not something that we support or think is okay, so let's just not speak about it. despite only attending religious schools for the first couple years of primary, until i got my own technology and social media accounts to explore lgbtq content on my own- option a out of the two catalysts for change- the possibility of me being gay was not at all on my radar. don’t even get me started on how long it took me to explore butchness and my overall gender, two things which now feel glaringly obvious. 

when shit starts to break down, you can also make the conscious choice to repress which can delay the eventual smashing down of the mental closet door for a time (essentially when the closet door starts to open, you just say ‘no thanks’ and shut it again by pointedly Not Thinking About It). in the abscence of identifying yourself by your attractions, it becomes quite common to identify with a lack- in my case, this meant becoming proud of how sensible and not boy crazy i was, and in the captain’s case, this means becoming proud of how sensible and not sensuous/wild (aka woman crazy) he was, identifying with his LACK of desire for women and partying (which, even in the 40s, involved the expectation of opposite sex romances and hook ups). i’m not saying that’s the only reason he’s a rule follower, but i think the contrast between About Last Night and Perfect Day pretty much support this. (the captain getting on his high horse about general party antics that he inherently felt excluded from because of underlying awareness of his difference & his tendency to project his regimented expectations of himself onto others, vs. joining in the reception party, awareness of how the environment supports difference in the form of clare and sam, and relaxing his own rules by dancing with men- the captain doesn’t mind a party when feels like he has a place there.)

so the captain was operating in a high demand, highly regulated environment (primarily the military, but also early 20th century England itself), with regimented roles, rules, and expectations. working on the assumption that he wouldn't have had out/disclosing lgbt friends, he would have had little to no exposure to lgbt identities, and what information he did receive would have been hushed and negatively geared. while my world started to open up when i started high school was allowed to have my own phone + instagram account, resulting in me realising something wasn't quite 'right' within a few years (making me a relatively early realiser compared to those who don't come out to themselves until adulthood), in life the captain never had that experience. he didn't receive the information he needed, his environment didn't grow less hostile. with the near-exception of havers related heartbreak, his well disciplined and lifelong method of repression never became destructive/exhaustive enough to permanently override the danger signals in his mind and allow him to put his feelings into words. neither of the most common catalysts for change happened for him, so he continued as usual, even after his death.

BUT, and here’s where we come to why this is actually great representation, arrival of mike and Alison represents the opening up of new world. for the first time, the captain is actively made aware of the fact that his environment is no longer hostile, and better than that, it’s affirming. he’s also getting access to positively geared information about lgbtq people and identities, so option a of the two catalysts for change is absolutely present, and resoundingly positive. 

the captain’s arc is also relatively unique as it acknowledges the oppressive nature of his environment, but actually focuses on the internal consequences, and the way that systems like those that the captain lived in succeed because they turn us into our own oppressors. for whatever reason, we repress ourseslves, and often can’t help it, and i find that the significance of the journey to overcome that is often overlooked in more mainstream queer media. perhaps it’s just not very cinematic, or it remains too confronting for cishet audiences, but ghosts manages to touch on it with a lovely amount of humour and hope. Jamie Babbit’s But I’m A Cheerleader is another favourite piece of queer media for the same reasons.

not only does it show this, but as the captain continues to get gayer and lean into some of his less conventional traits (like an interest in fashion and the wedding planning), it shows lgbt people who have been or are going through this that there CAN be a positive outcome. it takes a lot to unlearn all the things that have painted you as wrong, especially when a massive institution is desperate to continue doing so, but you can do it, you can be happy, and it's never too late. (i've been meaning to say that last point for ages for ages, but a mutual beat me to it here)

2. not just another coming out arc

i absolutely support the demand for queer stories that don’t center around coming out (it’s like shrodinger’s queer: if you’re not coming out on screen, do you really even exist?), but i don’t align with the criticisms that the captain should already be out. for the reasons mentioned above, the captain’s particular story is fairly different to the ‘young white teenager who mostly knows gay is fine, it’s just everyone else that’s got the problem, but have a unremarkably straight sounding soundtrack, a trauma porn romance, and a cishet saviour’ that we keep seeing. the captain’s ongoing journey with his sexuality emphasises the overaching theme of the show: recovering from trauma and humanity’s endless capacity for growth, and i think that’s worth showing over and over again until it stops being true.

additionally, while the captain’s journey regarding his gayness is a big part of his character and story, ghosts makes it clear that it’s not the ONLY part, and being gay is far from his ONLY characteristic or dramatic/comedic engine. the fact that i’m even having to congratulate ghosts for doing that really shows how much film and television is struggling huh.

while all queer media is, and should be, subject to criticism, i think if it helps even one person then it absolutely deserves to exist, and i can say i’ve found the captain’s journey to be the lgbt story i’ve found that’s closest to my own, which says a lot considering he’s a dead world war 2 soldier who hangs out with other ghosts including a slutty Tory, a georgian noblewoman, and a literal caveman. 

3. if captain gay, why he no have boyfriend???? 

another complaint that’s been circulating is that since the captain doesn’t, and likely won’t, have a boyfriend, that makes him Bad Representation because it follows the sad single gay trope. i kind of get the logic from this one, and a lot of it is up to personal interpretation, but part of me really enjoys the fact that the captain’s journey towards accepting himself is separated from having a relationship.

coming out is often paired with having romantic/sexual relationships (either as the reason or reward for doing so). my own struggle with repression didn't end the second that came out, and i still struggle with letting myself develop & acknowledge romantic feelings as a result of actively shutting them (and most other feelings in general) down for years, and statistics show that lgbtq youth in particular tend not to live out their 'teen years' until their twenties. by not giving cap a relationship straight away, ghosts separates the act of claiming identity and sexual orientation from finding a partner (two things which are, more often than not, separate), and also provides some very nice validation to folks who have yet to have the relationship they want, especially when lots of mainstream queer media is now jumping on the cishet media bandwagon of acting as if every person loses their virginity and has a life defining relationship at sixteen. it’s essentially a continuation of the earlier theme of “it’s never too late”, and who’s to say the captain won’t get a gay bear ghost boyfriend to go haunt nazis with??? people die all the time, it could happen.

(also, i think him and julian will have definitely shagged at least once. it was a low moment for both of them and they refuse to speak of it.)

lots of asexual/ace spectrum fans have come out to say how much they’ve loved being able to headcanon cap as ace, and while that’s not a headcanon i personally have, i think it’s brilliant that ace fans feel seen by his character- we’re all in this soup together babey (and sorry for cursing everyone still reading this with that cap/julian headcanon. i’m just a vessel)

4. “okay, but cap’s a GHOST- doesn’t that make this Bury Your Gays?”

this is a bit of a complex one, but i’m going to say no as a result of the following break down.

Bury Your Gays (BYG), aka the trope where lgbtq characters are consistently killed off (and often with a heavy dose of trauma, while cishet characters survive) is probably one of my least favourite lgbt media tropes. BYG has two main points:

1. the lgbt character is killed, thus removing them from story entirely- hence the use of the phrase ‘killed OFF’ (killed off of the show/film)

2. the character’s death reinforces the perception that lgbtq people’s lives must end in tragedy, instead of being long and fulfilling, or are inherently less valuable. bonus points if the character is killed in a hate crime or confesses same-gender love right before they die (that one implies that queer love genuinely has no future!)

not every death of an lgbtq character is bury your gays, and i personally feel that the captain is an example of an lgbt death that isn’t. 

first of all, while the captain is dead, so are the vast majority of characters in ghosts. the premise of the show means that death is not the end of the line for its characters- for most of them, it’s the only reason we get to see them on screen at all. as such, the captain being dead doesn’t remove him from the story, so point one is irrelevant.

at the time of posting, we don’t know how or why the captain died, but we've had nothing to suggest his death was in any way related to his latent sexuality, so his mysterious death doesn’t actively play into the supposedly inherent tragedy of queer lives, nor the supposedly lesser value. that’s as of right now- since we don’t know the circumstances of his death it’s a little tough to analyse properly. while the captain’s life absolutely features missed opportunities and it’s fair share of tragedy, hope and growth (which seems to be the theme of this post) abounds in equal measure. the captain may not be alive, but we DO get to see him growing and having a relatively happy existence, that for the most part seems to be getting even better as he learns to open up and be himself unapologetically- that doesn’t feel like BYG to me.

while writng this, it’s just occured to me that death really is a second chance for most of the ghosts, especially with the introduction of alison. from mary learning to read, to thomas finding modern music, they’ve all been given the chance explore things they never could have while they were alive, and hopefully grow enough to one day be sucked off move on.

in conclusion,

i love the captain very much and i hope his arc lives up to the standards it’s set so far. i don’t know where to put this in this post, but i’d alo like to say i LOVE how in Perfect Day, the captain wasn’t used as an educational experienced for fanny at all. i am very tired of people expecting me to be the walking talking homophobe educator and rehabilitator, so the fact that it’s alison and the other ghosts that call fanny out while the captain just gets to have fun with the wedding organisation made me very happy.

here’s a few other cap posts that i’ve done:

the captain’s arc if adam and the film crew stayed

a possible cap coming out 

the captain backstory headcanon

if you’ve read this far,

thank you!

also check out @alex-ghosts-corner , this post inspired me very much to write this