#4000 year old idiot

[gum-iie]

“to become stricken by mara is to be a long-life species, no?”

[no-light-left-on]

the 'he's 15' debate is so very stupid and all that Harvey said on the matter is taken at such surface level it might as well not have been considered at all

he was 15 at the time of being taken in by the cult and sacrificed - which makes A Lot Of Sense, like that's a homeless child, what is he gonna do, say no to food? or the lack of struggle, again, he was a kid, what was he supposed to do? the way things happened during the sacrifice make a lot of sense if we take it as him being a kid, besides, the cult targeting a beggar child makes sense because who's going to miss him?

we're also told that he appears 'almost as he did in life' - he has the same face, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't age himself up to be more respectable in the eyes of his chosen. he doesn't look 15 because he either aged in the Void, if only barely, or he decided that maybe after being hurt by adults it would make more sense to present as one

lastly, the tweet of him backing out of the Outsider being 15 is just.... not true. the question Harvey got was 'now that the outsider is free is he going back to being 15?' to which Harvey said that no, he is still thousands of years old and appears to be in his early 20's.

here's my two cents to this really stupid debate on the Outsider's age based off the tweets, hope it helps

it's one of those days when everyone needs a reminder that the Outsider is about a whole foot shorter than Corvo

[anika-ann]

Paperweight (S.R.)

Type: one-shot, prequel, canon-ish (see A/N)

Pairining: (pre) Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 4000

Summary: Falling in love with Steve Rogers is easy. Hiding it while your friendship blooms is considerably harder. Especially when he’s being absurdly loveable and perfectly hot during a training.

In which you stay behind after a work-out, bear witness to a training session led by Steve and are asked for assistance. How could you say no to the man?

Warnings: FLUFF, mentions of canon-typical violence, language? Hopeless idiots in love.

A/N:  a slice-of-life standalone or a one-shot set about half a year before Love on the Brain series; reader is called “Agent Jones”; divider by firefly-graphics 😍

If there was one thing you had known long before you joined the Avengers Initiative, it was that falling for a friend tended to be a complicated thing. It was even more complicated if one was worried it might not work out – which was practically always. The growing affection and attraction were not easy to hide, especially from perceptive people. People like Black Widow. Or worse, Steve Rogers himself.

The one thing making it easier was that everyone and their (grand)mother – in this case, the saying was way more accurate than in all other cases you were aware of – had a crush on Steve Rogers too. That meant that if someone caught you staring, lingering, or even gushing (usually meaning defending) Steve, it was hardly something unique to you. No one would think twice about it. Even as his friend, you were a person with well-working eyes and blood pumping your veins and it was indeed very hard to miss that Steve’s body was literally boosted to perfection to become the peak of man. That was fine.

However, the one thing making it insanely difficult was Steve. His irritating goodness of heart that was actually way more attractive that all typical bad boys from the movies made it seem. When he added the mischievous side to his persona, his wit, his warmth, both physical and in demeanour… and the numerous numerous occasions where he could show off not all his character qualities, but also his strength, it was impossible to stay within the lines of a simple crush.

Growing affection and attraction were never easy to hide, but god damn, in the case of Steven Grant Rogers, it was task fit for titans. And you were just a walking mass of bones, flesh, blood and hormones with a brain that might be rather well-developed, but could still short-circuit when Steve showed off the biceps that could probably bench press you without breaking a sweat – or flashed you an easy smile with the sweetest edge or a spark of being up to no good.

Now, it was given that Steve was a fan of mixed groups in training. Newbies with old dogs who needed to accept they needed to learn new tricks, men with women, different departments and teams mingling together and sharing tips. But Steve, for most part, was also a very reasonable man. He did see that there were advantages to training in groups divided according to sex as well. As someone who had spent the bigger part of his fully conscious life in a body more similar to those of women, he was aware that women needed to learn how to use their agility and how to turn the weight and strength advantage of their opponents against them for instance; men, on the other hand, needed times where they would not haveto hold back completely during training in fear of making the match unequal.

Apparently, Steve also believed that men needed to build their strength in a drool-worthy way.

You had lingered after the training session you had with your female colleagues led by the infamous Natasha Romanoff – or Nat, for you – feeling the need for extra stretches. Nat said it was fine and there was an area in the largest gym designated for stretching even as the main area could already be occupied by someone else. The someone else were men, led by Steve and Jack Rollins; you expected no issues.

You did not expect the training session to turn into a drool-fest so fast. But maybe you should have.

The architectonic genius designing the gym must have indeed been a genius, because even as the group of agents and recruits would have been out of your earshot due to the distance, you could hear Steve’s voice clear as day. You refused to believe it was because you were tuned to his gentle and yet commanding timbre he used whenever he switched to the role of a teacher, the role of the Captain.

You listened. You simply couldn’t help it: not only because it was Steve, but because of what he was saying was, in fact, intriguing.

Squats with weights, front lever. One thick iron pole, three people. As he described it, you admittedly couldn’t imagine how that would work.

And then he asked Rollins to help him demonstrate, picking an agent whose name you couldn’t recall to help by performing the front lever, which alone was a feat because of the strong core muscles and arms it required, along with incredible bodily awareness and coordination. At first, you were grateful Steve wasn’t the one showing that, because seeing him control his body so perfectly as he held onto the pole to basically levitate above the ground would send your mind to the gutter real fast.

Your mind ended up in the gutter anyway. Because the two remaining men – Steve and Rollins – were holding the pole on their shoulders while Agent Whatshisname performed his task. Steve already had to be slightly crouched because he was a good foot taller than Rollins, so it was truly difficult for you not to stare. But then… then they made a squat. Using the agent as a damn weight.

The pole rested on Steve’s wide shoulders with ease as it was nothing but a paperweight, the expanse of his back muscles dancing under his white tee. His sweats hugged his defined ass the way your hands itched to. Your stretches were forgotten.

It was just a brief moment, even if generous enough, and then he and Rollins rose to their (almost) full height. And then they repeated the motion just to show off and to test you. You were just a breathing walking mass of bones, flesh, blood and hormones indeed; you felt physically unable to avert your gaze. As for your brain, well. It circled straight to the thought of being stretched in a whole different way.

Being Steve's friend and only think about him as such was truly an impossible task.

“Easy for you, you could probably lift him on your own!” a voice called out from the crowd, clearly referring to Steve and you internally cursed and used all your willpower to snap your gaze away at last, hearing Steve’s chuckle and the murmur of agreement.

Gee, Mr. Mouthy, thanks for that mental image.

“True. But that is not the point,” Steve explained, thanking the agent for assistance in their demonstration. “This is not all about strength. If you're thinking why bother with this when you could simply lift weights...”

More murmurs of agreement followed and you asked yourself the same, for you could have lived without another image added to the collection haunting the better of your sleepless nights.

“This is not an exercise to build strength, not primarily. It's a group exercise. It’s about cooperation. It took us a hot minute too before we could show you. Come here, Agent Stalinski, please. If you didn’t mind, you’d help us demonstrate why.”

Once again, you did not find it in yourself to resist watching them; this time from genuine curiosity. At least this time, you made a point of laying your chest on your knees and only peeking at them for a few seconds, as Agent Stalinski, who seemed to regret his decision to speak up already, obediently walked to the pole. He could have refused, but he clearly didn’t want to look like a chicken – and didn’t want to disrespect Steve. It was never easy to decide and disrespect a kind man without looking like an idiot and feeling that part too. Giving a choice and respecting it was part of Steve’s charm and strength as a leader.

Without another word, Agent Stalinski performed the front lever as Rollins and Steve held the pole.

“If I use all my strength to show off, we'll fail... ready?” Steve said, waiting for Rollins to nod before they squatted.

And then Steve held back his bodily superiority considerably less than before and stood up with vigour.

It was an exhilarating sight; not only because poor Rollins nearly toppled over and even importantly, because Stalinski saved himself half a second before falling on his ass hard, but obviously also because Steve showing off his skills was a treat to watch. More so when he was proving a point; that was always fun.

And your heart could melt when Steve offered Agent Stalinski a hand to help him up, effectively shutting up the cackles that sounded among the other agents with one single glare; because humiliate the agent for mouthing off was not the point.

Goddamn Steve’s golden heart. He truly wasn’t making things any easier for you – and probably half the agency who was in love with him too.

You could hear a smile in his voice when he spoke up again, almost as if he knew.But you, in return, knew he was simply satisfied with proving his point and the agents understanding the task and the goal of the exercise. Understanding that bodily strength wasn’t everything and they needed to believe both in themselves and in each other; like Peggy Carter or Dr.Erskine once believed in him even if others didn’t.

“Like I said. It's about cooperation. One weak link – weak in working with others, not necessarily in bodily strength – and this isn’t going to work. So… let's group up and try."

As the group of agents begun to move around, you returned your full attention to your stretches, breathing in deeply, slowly releasing the air as you felt your muscles cry in both strain and relief. Remaining in position, you closed your eyes, breathing through the slight pull of pain further. You would sleep like a baby tonight; Natasha did not hold back on you, but that was part of the thrill. She pushed you all, but with enough kindness to make it worth it and a lot of more satisfaction when you could see and feel your progress.

You heard the steps as soon as you felt the floor vibrate under you, and your heart involuntarily fluttered. You should truly not be able to recognize Steve’s jog, because that bordered on creepy and obsessive, but you did go running with him quite often so you could blame it on that. At least that was how you reasoned with yourself. It had nothing to do with the fact that your mind tended to gravitate towards him too often, feel his presence, because it felt like first warm sunrays of the approaching summer.

Easing your position, you looked up as he approached you with a slightly bashful smile, a brief sparkle of mischief in his eye.

Before he could even open his mouth, you glanced behind him, noticing the issue and already guessing why he was here with you instead of the trainees.

One agent stayed alone. That meant that either both Steve and Rollins would be in a group with him, leaving the others without proper supervision and assistance or the one agent would be left out. Or you could join them for a bit. The choice of letting Steve use you – for the exercise, as a faceless agent only to even the numbers in an exercise – was a real no-brainer.

Once again, you reasoned that leaving the poor loner without a chance to train would leave you feeling evil when it was no problem for you to help; and it really would, if you were being honest with yourself. If you got to see Steve up close, either working out or directing other agents with his leadership skills, as a bonus, that was simply a nice coincidence, wasn’t it?

Raising your hand with a tired smile and gesturing for him to help you up, his grin widened, pulling you up without a second thought.

“Hey Sparkles,” he hummed gently, squeezing your hand before releasing you. “Could-“

“Sure, GG,” you interrupted him, rolling your shoulders and pretending your heart didn’t skip a beat when his eyebrows rose, one corner of his lips quirking.

“Well, now I’m tempted to ask anything.”

You gulped. It was nothing but a friendly teasing, you knew. But damn if it didn’t make your stomach somersault a bit, if you didn’t think you saw something flash in his eyes.

The thing was, he could ask you anything. And your little foolish heart would probably command you to do it. Especially when he smiled like that as he towered over you, eyes roaming over you with slight concern in his expression.

“Thank you. You don't even have to do the horizontal workout-“ he noted, a genuine worry in his voice as if he didn’t just said the words horizontal workout in a completely different context than you would like him to. He had to know about how you felt about him and was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he? “Just...”

“Be your paperweight?” you suggested cheekily, hopefully masking how the probably unintended innuendo made your face hot.

“I mean-“ You raised eyebrows when he looked as if he was about to deny it. Really? “Well, yes, basically. It’s an important role either way. And I know you could do it, but you already have one session behind you and you were already almost done with your stretches. I understand if you don’t want to undo all of that. So really, any way you’re willing to assist us, we’ll be grateful.”

It truly would have been easier if Steve was only attractive; or only kind, considerate or passionate. But the fact he was all of it was a deadly cocktail you had got addicted rather fast. He was like a magnet, calling out for every part of you and pulling you into his orbit with ease and inevitability. How could you say no to him?

“Sure, whatever. We'll see. But if I’m joining you, I might as well go for the full experience, right?”

Steve smiled at you, a proud edge to the soft curl of his lips, as he beckoned to the agents. The warmth spreading through your body was already well-worth the hard work you had ahead of you.

“Right. Let’s go.”

People who even suspected that they were in love should be stripped of their lawful right to make decisions and be declared temporary insane for the time being. Or maybe that just applied to people in Steve Rogers’ vicinity. That was what you thought of as you wiped the sweat off, feeling your hands trembling minutely with exhaustion.

Of course you had gone for it. You went for the work-out with all you had and maybe even what you didn’t have, but how could you relent for even a second when you had Steve’s proud grin directed straight at you whenever you tried another rep and succeeded at least partially? Your abdomen muscles burned, but when something flashed in his eye, admiration and something you couldn’t quite decipher beyond the emotion being a good one, the pleasant warmth in your belly simply took over and you gritted your teeth once more.

Your body was utterly ruined, all thanks to Steve; and it might not be in all ways you sometimes dreamed about, but the satisfaction it brought you was still well worth it.

The shaking not so much.

The other agents went to run a few laps under Rollins’ command as Steve followed you back to the stretching area, smile all soft and playful even if a little concerned since you walked with a slight wobble. Your core muscles were so overworked that it even affected your ability to walk.

You’d be sore tomorrow; very sore. If there was a chance to prevent at least part of the pain awaiting you in the morning, it was only natural you would take it, right?

That was how you reasoned with yourself. That was how you justified that when Steve’s gentle giant hands carefully took yours with an unspoken question, thumbs pressing into your right forearm just right, you let out the words ‘yes please’ with as little moany quality in your voice as possible.

You must have succeeded, because Steve didn’t seem to notice. If he did, he was polite enough not to mention it. Needless to say that you were grateful you could blame the flush in your face on your previous work-out.

Working his way up your arm in a perfectly collected manner, Steve pressed against the tendons and muscles with precision and well-calculated amount of strength; he wasn’t rough at all, yet he made sure you felt it.

You would bet there were a lot of things which he could make you feel it, but you tried to steer your mind away from the gutter as much as possible. Once again, you blamed your momentary inability to do that more than usual on exhaustion, the lovely visuals you had been offered, and Steve’s more than pleasant touch.

“Thank you, Sparkles. You did amazing,” Steve spoke simply but sincerely, an easy smile on his lips as if his thumbs weren’t kneading the exact spot you needed, flooding your body with the relief you craved; your muscles. Your muscles craved.

Focus.

The gush of wind created by the running agents helped you ground yourself in reality.

You weren’t alone. There was a purpose – a very platonic purpose – to what Steve was doing. He was thanking you for being a good colleague and teammate and it was time again for your brain to switch into that mode. Because there was no romantic mode in your relationship with Steve. There were two people needed for that and if all Steve was offering was his absolutely exquisite friendship, the best-friendship as it seemed to bloom lately, you’d grab it and never let go. Not for anything.

And you’d take a quick massage to your exhausted muscles too.

To sweeten the deal, it felt really good to be praised by Captain America himself. You would be lying if compliments from the Steve Rogers, the ultimate good man, were the only ones that mattered to you; the side to Steve which carried the mantle of the Captain and appreciated you wasn’t exactly something to sneer at, quite on the contrary.

“I didn't want him to feel out if I could help,” you shrugged, earning a slightly scolding look as you moved your shoulders, the arm under Steve’s touch tensing when it was supposed to be relaxed. You grinned apologetically. “And you know you're a good motivator- I mean--- motivational speaker... whatever.”

The gentle rumble of Steve’s chuckle was nothing short of warm even as his grin gained a teasing note.

“Why thank you. I'll consider a career change to a motivational speaker indeed.”

You chuckled too – and instantly regretted it as your belly spasmed minutely, trembling due to the way you overdid the work-out. Steve’s fingers ceased their movements, simply gripping your arm in support. Glancing up, you found his brows furrowed in worry.

Bless the sweet man. But if he was so concerned about your abdomen muscles, maybe he could massage them too- stop.

“Yeah, okay, maybe I pushed myself a bit too much,” you admitted with another chuckle, gritting your teeth to stop the hiss threatening to escape your lips. “Glad I could help. But you mister, are forbidden from making me laugh for the next 48 hours.”

He glanced at the finger you pointed at him with slight offence.

“But I like making you laugh?”

You glanced up on instinct. There was the faintest pout to his lips as your eyes met his and you found yourself on the receiving end of the warmest gaze. His hands were cradling your elbow now – giant and gentle still, thumb brushing over your bicep.

Yes. It was a true shame that Steve’s feelings towards you were merely platonic. Because at this moment, the blue pools of his irises seemed so inviting you’d follow him anywhere, to hell and back; and you knew he’d keep you safe, held your elbow tenderly but firmly when the need would arise and he’d protect your heart too, because Steve Rogers was as much of a fighter as a protector. You already knew as much. You wanted to know even more.

You wanted more. Selfishly and wistfully, you wanted more, especially in moments like this, moments that felt as easy as breathing with him even when your chest felt so full that breathing in seemed difficult – useless. Had he leaned forward, had he taken your lips, you wouldn’t care for oxygen, you’d- stop.

You had to stop and take a cold shower in the evening.

“GG-“

“Cap? What’s next?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Rollins’ howl reached your ears.

Whatever you were about to say died in your throat, whatever your hazed brain planned. You had to admit it was rather satisfactory to see Steve jump a little too, his hands practically dropping your arm and realizing last minute you had obediently left it completely limp and it might hurt. So he gingerly pressed into your bicep two more times, slowly manoeuvring your arm back down, wary of any rapid movements.

“Be right with you!” Steve called back, turning to you with another smile. You probably only imagined the hint of regret and yet; it was a nice feeling to see you’d be missed.

“Well, the crowds call your name, Mr. Motivational Speaker. Thanks for the quick massage, GG.”

“Thank you. Now go get some rest.”

“Yes, sir.”

You cackled at his unamused face when you addressed him as such, quickly replaced by a brief smirk at how you instantly regretted your actions, your belly protesting again. Serves you right, that smirk said, but quickly blended into the signature worried frown.

“Rest, Agent Jones,” he bit back good-naturedly, shooting you one last glance before he jogged back to other agents under his wing.

You watched him retreat, allowing yourself one last indulgence in the form of the glorious view of his back and ass, before you sighed and turned to walk away, the wobble in your step still present. You hoped a hot shower would ease the tension in your abdomen; however, you did not forget about the need for a cold shower either.

You supposed such was the price for being friends with Steven Grant Rogers.

You didn’t mind paying it, more so when you were gaining too.

It shouldn’t have surprised you, but it did: the evening found you with a knock on your door from your sweet neighbour and a sweet aroma of sugar, cinnamon and apples. Steve stood in your doorway with a slightly bashful but brilliant grin, holding a plate with at least a third of a freshly baked pie that might as well have been prepared by Martha Stewart herself, but was baked by her biggest competition in the baking department.

“Is this allowed or does it fall under don't make me laugh category?” Steve questioned innocently and this time, you remembered to lay your arm over your belly when you laughed a bit, smiling wide, something so painfully soft, gentle and just a little heavy humming in your chest.

“Well, I think this falls into making me smile category, so I'll allow it,” you said, not even pretending you needed to think too hard.

“Good. I like making you smile too.”

The acute feeling in your chest grew – warm, tender and bright – an echo of outrage in your ribcage that Steve could say the words so easily as if they couldn’t be a declaration of love as well as friendship.

“Yeah. I like it too. And same,” you hummed, stepping back to let him in. “Come in, neighbour.”

As you invited him into your apartment, you knew that you were – all over again – inviting him into your heart too.

Maybe that was a dangerous thing to do; but in your line of work, a little danger was an occupational hazard. Of all the risks you could take upon, carrying love for Steve Rogers was one you’d take upon gladly. You’d happily taken the burden; because the weight you’d carry couldn’t be heavier than a paperweight. And even if it was, if that was a weight you were allowed to carry, at least platonically, you’d do so with pride – and with your whole heart.

Because Steve Rogers deserved nothing less.

Steve Rogers masterlist // Love on The Brain masterlist

Saw a video of this specific work out and my mind couldn’t let go of it… and it’s no longer available, sorry 🤐

Re-reading this, I am genuinely shocked they lasted so long and that it took the Love on the Brain case to break them… well, put them together, whatever :)

I hope you enjoyed this little floofy blurb and that autumn is being kind to you 💕

[caffeine-high]

KIAN KUSHIM?

STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING KIAN GOD DAMN FOOL BODY STEALING DUST EATING OLD ASS BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT CARRIER OF THE WHORE RELIC BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING KIAN

THINKS HE KNOWS ALL YET FUCKING LOST TO PEOPLE WHO COULDN'T EVEN OPEN A FUCKING DOOR

KIAN “YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE AWESOMENESS OF MY PLAN” KIAN FUCKING 4000 YEARS OLD YET NEVER LEARNED EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE GIVING 13 YEAR OLD YELLING AT VIDEO GAMES CHIQUE

SPENT 4000 YEARS BEFORE BEING ABLE TO DO RITUALS, LOOSES THEM IMMEDIATELY TO A GIRL WHO ONLY TRANSCENDED FOR THE FIRST TIME A DAY PRIOR

STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT KAIN I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP RITUALS WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT JUST SET THEM LOOSE MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME

if i could go to tenebris and explore the unexplored, but the other side said kian was waiting inside i would piss on the other side’s feet for the sole purpose of getting sent back to reality, i would make a thiago and cesar special and kick that door so hard it gives me damage to close it

if i had to deal with taking kian seriously for one moment of my fucking life not only will i close the tab i will delete every bookmark and generated subtitle out of fucking spite have to watch all of desconjuração again and spend half my life in the manor for the experience of being able to then skip over the parts where kian is mentioned 

yes he has a fucked up backstory to explain how he is, but it does not explain just how much of a fucking child he is wheeeh wheeh you were mean to me so now i have to kill you and keep beating your dead body while shouting about how superiour i am SHUT THE FUCK UP 

if the mask they put him is does not include a fucking gag i will go all eliasbouchard on him

paypal.com/FuckingHateKianKushim every cent goes towards getting merch shipped to places it currently is not

the story should not even be about him, taking 4000 years just to get marked and get noticed by senpai then to looses all of that within a fucking year

mr i am the first occultist mr i know all, mr planned for this his whole 4000 year life and managed to so catastrophically fuck up that within a year it is undone

man’s never heard of the sunk cost fallacy, oh i've already killed thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people truly i cannot stop now FUCKER you can quit at any time ya know best time was 4000 years ago next best time was after the first life you took next next best time after the  second, but truly, the (next*x^n)th best time is right fucking now

handpicked an elite team of marked and they could not even stop hating each other enough to work together and despite that they still worked with YOUR enemies to lock you up

disconjuration? well discon-tinue your fucking story mate 

i fucking hope we know the exact date of your imprisonments because im going to set a reminder in my phone and every year i will see it and i will laugh at this fucker who at the height of his power could not even keep himself composed enough to not sound like a fucking preteen who needs a nap

[ahappydnp]

Here’s my tea because I love those two idiots, enough to call them idiots in a fond, derogatory way: they refuse to confirm their relationship because as Dan puts it—No One can understand this bond between them, these two 4000 year old tortoises, these two immortal beings who have known each other for a thousand lifetimes, this “normal gay couple”. They’re more than boyfriends, life partners, husbands, whatever. They can’t say they’re in a relationship, because to them they’re in something that transcends our basic interpretation of what a romantic relationship is. And I’ll let them have that, because it’s quite rare to find your soulmate like they have. I’ll just celebrate them from my little corner of the internet, smiling at how they made me believe in soulmates again 😂

no. they're normal and need to be humbled.

[you-ate-glue-you-eat-ass]

im sad

so i ranted to my friend about dnp and how much im obsessed with their relationship and uhm

now im just really, really sad because i realise that i will never have a relationship like theirs. i fall in love so easily and i just THINK that maybe i will find a love like theirs but it’s so rare to have something as precious as whatever they have.

like so for example my last crush was on this person who was/is one of my best friends as well and like god i idolised them but somedays they just kind of forgot i existed

but then other days i could force myself to believe that they were in love with me as well because of the way they acted towards me (lots of affection in general)

and there was a time period of like 2 months where he just. stopped talking to me completely, and it broke me to the point where i found it literally physically painful to drag myself out of bed most days. i still haven’t really spoken to him about it (but i probably should considering we’re “bsfs” lmao)

sorry going back on track: what dan and phil have is so special and i just want what they have to such an intense degree that it ends up hurting me because i believe that everyone i fall in love with will be my soulmate, husband, arch enemy, 4000-year-old tortoise, etc etc

tl;dr: ian rants about being a fucking stupid idiot who yearns for the dip n pip dynamic whilst also having attachment issues. this leads to nothing but sadness

please tell me someone else feels like this

[country-corner]

I just roll my eyes

Extended family advice to me when I moved (from 4000+ ft elevation) to my current location (less than 2000 ft elevation): "You can't live around here in the winter without a new, not used, 4wd vehicle." I kept the same 2wd truck I had at over 4000 elevation.

Looking at a new home (2600 ft elevation), same extended family: "Oh, you've been lucky around here, but you have never been through a winter at that elevation, you can get 15' of snow over night at that elevation. So you will need to replace your 45yr old 2wd truck with a new, not used, 4wd." Me rolling my eyes remembering living at 4000+ elevation with the same 2wd truck I'm using today and not remembering ever hearing locally of 15' of snow over night, even at the local ski resorts. Then smiling while remembering them getting their 4X4 with all season tires stuck in 12" of snow several times in the last few years, while I only got stuck once, due to my own fault of hitting the gas to hard in high gear and spinning my all terrain tires, in my own yard, when pushing 18" of snow.

It's not the truck it's the driver. You keep it safe and sane and gear down, if needed, you can drive a 2wd on paved snowy/icy roads better than any of the idiots with their 4x4s who think they can go at high speeds and stop on a dime on those same snowy/icy roads, all because they have a 4wd. If you drive a 4x4 safe and sane and gear down, if needed, on snowy/icy roads, then I have no issue with you and would be willing to trust you with driving my 2wd in the winter.

[thrudgelmir2333]

“Anxiety Writing”, Imperator Rome, Antiquity, Lance’s Role and my infuriating obsession with a “Catholic Fantasy” cartoon for children

Since I’ve decided to focus a bit more effort on Tumblr after basically being a whole year quiet, to the point I published ten whole chapters since the last time I publicised one here, I thought I’d try my hand at writing a blog post too, since that’s kind of what this site is supposed to be about. 1. Confessions about being the biggest Saint Seiya Tsundere People who know me online, even tangentially, whether on Discord, Fanfiction.net, Twitter or Tumbler, know one thing about me; I have an obsession with a pathetic excuse of a show called Saint Seiya. Or Knights of the Zodiac. Or whatever you wanna call it, I don’t care, call it Power Rangers: Ancient Greece if you want to.

But frankly? I kind of despise this franchise. I mean the whole of it. I really do. It’s so bad, to an embarassing level, like a B movie cashing in on a trend. It makes me genuinely embarassed that half the things I have to talk about with anyone about the last 10 years of my life are either about depression, college or Saint Seiya. And when I’m not embarassed by it, I’m infuriated, because Saint Seiya, for those of you who don’t know, is one of those franchises that has become endlessly commodified online. They’re a bit too aware of their own success and have decided to bank on it for the rest of its irrelevant existence, endlessly pumping out bad cartoons and CGI-filled movies to raise the appeal of the toys and DVDs they want to sell.

And yet, I have the ignoble badge of having spent those ten years writing a shockingly long fanfic of it, a fanfic that I pretty much work on every other day or so for the past 4000 days of my life. And this is the only life I’m gonna get lol Not only have I written Lance’s Role, a incoherent behemoth of a fic, but I’ve befriended SS fanfic writers, I’ve reviewed SS writing, I’ve commissioned art, I’ve climbed my way to a top of a SS Discord server that I didn’t even create, I’ve hosted streams of episodes of all of its spinoffs to friends and I’ve endlessly discussed every minute aspect of this franchise, from Seiya’s character flanderisation in classic Saint Seiya, to the accidentally sexual language of the scene of Athena “taking in Saga’s knife”, to the lighting on Chakram Europa’s monologue in Saint Seiya Omega. Like, the bots on those servers tracking everyone’s posting experience speak for themselves; I’ve talked about SS more than some of its oldest and most ferverous members combined.

Why do I do this? lol Wtf is the matter with me? I’m a 30 year old college graduate that barely even liked this show when I saw it on TV back in the 90s, in the few moments of my off-hours when I wasn’t being dragged to church masses, or other social gatherings my parents didn’t really even believe in. Why have I revolved my headspace around a show I don’t like or respect?

A couple years back, my friend @zebulonwallace told me that a friend of hers once described Saint Seiya as “Catholic Fantasy”. We talked in-depth about it and why her friend claimed it and really, even when discounting the regions this show is popular at (France, Latin America, etc). While I feel like that moment made a lightbulb turn on my head about why I can’t forget about this stupid show, it’s just too easy an explanation. It’s too convenient and comfortable and it puts the hot lightbulb too away from myself. It doesn’t take a degree in media literacy to see that SS is packed to the brim with catholic imagery. Saori herself is one big Virgin Mary figure, especially in the 4th movie of Saint Seiya which, guess what, stars the DEVIL as the villain. So, I think it’s time to fess up that there is no good reason for these last ten years of my life. I’m just an obsessive idiot who found an easy target. That’s the truth. Saint Seiya is my stress toy because, frankly, it’s easy and comfortable to criticise it. It doesn’t take a lot of in-depth thinking out of me to point out its flaws and, frankly, that makes it less of a threat to my ego. It also has a very fractured and, paradoxically, unquestioning fanbase, which makes it very easy for me to levy arguments against pretty much every single niche in it whenever I want to feel superior to someone who thinks “Seiya is a true role model” or that “it’s fine that Lost Canvas has bad writing, cause Gold Saintz be hot”. If I was writing for One Piece or something, however, a franchise I have much greater admiration for, I would be competing with people with a lot more imagination and media savviness. Lance’s Role, which is essentially my personal anxiety outlet, would be under a lot more scrutiny in such spaces.

Why Saint Seiya, of all things, though? Why not Bleach, which is more modern, equally flawed and even somewhat inspired by Saint Seiya? Well, because fucking Bleach doesn’t have Ancient Greece on it, you dingus! Duh! It’s about fashion magazine Samurais wearing hip clothing, not people being drawn on pots chocking a lion or something : v 2. Imperator Rome and Antiquity Nerdism So, what some people might not know about me in my spaces (or maybe they do), is that I’m also a big fan of history and geography. My mother was a geography teacher herself, my father was... part of a questionable culture of historical revisionism BUT ALSO a respected journalist in our area, so I think I just have it in my blood to have a deep curiosity about how history and geography relate to eachother. It permeates everything I do and, even in my early years, I had a fascination for Ancient Greece and Rome, because they were the closest sources of the topic I could understand.

As such, I’m also a big fan of video games heavy on history and geography. This manifests itself in me having 1250 hours of playing Imperator Rome, a game even some of the most ardent Paradox Interactive fans barely have a tenth of the time spent on, and that time in IR is almost a tenth of the time I’ve probably spent writing Lance’s Role. Imperator Rome, despite its name, is frankly a lot more about celebrating the Hellenistic Period than the Roman one, with a lot of features and tidbits dedicated to the history of the Diadochi states, Makedonia, Greece, the Indian Mauryias and even the extinct Aechemenid Empire. Hell, Rome is almost just the easy-access gateway civilisation you play before you inevitably dive into the rabbit hole that are Diadochi soap-opera intrigues.

And if you dive into this rabbit hole, the first thing you realise is that there’s so much more to Antiquity than you even imagined. I never heard in my life of Antigonus Monophtalmos, and now I think he’s some kind of super one-eyed mega-general worthy of his own page on Badass of the Week, a dude who spent his life routinely dunking on his fellow former friends and was the first of Alexander’s subordinates to dare proclaim himself King and try to reunite his lands, only to then meet his end when some random dude hit him with a javelin. Yes, the guy got killed by a freaking random mook who got close enough to throw a stick. And that was the first battle his side would ever lose. That’s so comically tragic that its like something out of the Illiad or whatever. Eumenes of Cardia, the secretary of Alexander the Great that Antigonus defeated and killed, is such an obscure and interesting character that there’s AN ENTIRE AWARD-WINNING MANGA made about him by Itoshi Iwaaki called ‘Historie’. Imperator Rome even references it in its achievements. How cool is that? Moreover, I also never heard of how much of a dingus Antigonus’ son Demetrius was and how his fuck ups and delusions created a cascade of fails that, through his descendancy, led to the fall of Greece to Rome and effectively the beginning of the end of the Hellenistic Period. And did you know Phyrrus of Epirus, the fabled coiner of the phrase “Phyrric Victory”, died not in battle, but because while he was occupying Argos in a war, some random old lady hit him with a roof tile over the head, and his enemies decapitated him? The guy spent a decade of his life going up and down Sicily, fighting both Carthage AND a nascent Rome, and the thing that does him in was your nasty gradma complaining from her window how your horse was eating her flowers, or something. This was such a tragic end that Phyrrus’ enemy, the descendant of Antigonus, punished his son for cutting off Phyrrus’ head, because it reminded him of the curse his own family felt. Forget it, this isn’t like the Illiad, this is borderline Shakesperean. This is Hamlet, Greek-edition. Or I guess Hamlet is Phyrrus, Danish-Edition. Or is it English? I also never understood the cascade of complexity that was Egyptian dynastic history and its screwed up mix of monumentality and petty intrigue until Imperator Rome gave me a framework to understand its geography and rulers and encouraged me to read more about Antoquity outside of Ancient Greece. I found myself thinking back to the character of the graphic novel Watchmen, Ozymandias, and how he went from admiring Alexander the Great to admiring Ramses instead, cause holy crap, Ramses... was also kind of an incredible character of history. No, really, there are so many characters in antiquity, female and male, poor and rich, generals or philosophers, Greeks or Persians or Egyptians or Levantine, who are so immensely interesting and wrapped in legend that, in a way, Greek Mythology *falls short* of real life Antiquity people. I feel like I’ve barely dipped my toes. And hell, this is just one region, in one continent, in one era of the world. I will never understand fully the complexity of the Chinese Warring States period, because there’s just so much to go into it, but I definitely appreciate more the immensity of it. In a way, you could say reality, at least the recorded one, is endlessly more fascinating than the myths it inspires. .... *sigh* And then you have a show like Saint Seiya. ╯︿╰ 3. What Saint Seiya is, what it is not Allow me to be serious for a second; I don’t believe Saint Seiya should or could be this one big epic tribute to the comically complex history of the Eastern Mediterranean. At the end of the day, it’s Power Rangers: Ancient Greece. That’s all it’s ever going to be. It wouldn’t even be entertaining if it was loaded with all this lore. Saint Seiya appeals to a very popular conception of astrology, greek mythology and catholic imagery, all three things popular and various demographics, both in the West and the East, and mixes it in with shounen fluff from the late 80s. Saint Seiya is a show for children. And (wo)man-children. It’s not “Game of Thrones”. And that’s fine, lol

... But it doesn’t mean the potential isn’t there, does it? Or that its appropriation (if this term can be used) of Eastern Mediterranean mythology (specifically the Greek one) to drive up its appeal in markets is any less apparent. Right? And when you combine it with all the loose ends, unfinished character arcs and wonky timeline welding between the various spin offs, there’s just this big, fertile middle ground there, just tempting you to do something with it! So, what is an obsessive nerd like me supposed to do with all that untapped wealth just sitting there? Just bitch and complain that no one with a Toei badge on their suit will dig it for me, like so many do? Just endlessly whine that no one will put at the helm some sycophant artist regurgitating Shingo Araki’s style on Twitter? Well, no. That’s stupid. There’s honestly a lot of fertile ground in Saint Seiya to tell stories. All you really gotta do is plant a seed and water it and I guarantee; it will bloom. I have had endless conversations with friends of mine like Kenshiro and Zeb about the insane amount of fun things you can do with this world and some of them even expressed desire to maybe one day give writing them a shot. So maybe Saint Seiya isn’t Game of Thrones, or even Dragon Ball, but it does sound like it is something. And that if a passionate fan just takes the time, they could make it that something. So why doesn’t it happen? Especially when some people, like me, are obsessed enough to give it a go? Well, frankly, cause it’s a fool’s errand. 4. Saint Seiya Rewrites and “What the Fans Want” Saint Seiya fans don’t want Saint Seiya stories. They want an elevation of Saint Seiya stories into something of mainstream impact. The reasons for this are not monolithical, but it is the main driving force of what I’ve seen constitutes as the motivation of the core of the fanbase. This, the fandom believes, can be done two ways:

a) Finishing and adapting the now, pretty much, mythical “Heaven Chapter” that Masami Kurumada just won’t get into, which will usher Saint Seiya into a new age of Shounen relevance that will put it back in the pantheon of anime along with Dragon Ball and One Punch Man

b) “Fixing” early Saint Seiya, usually through some kind of new manga edition, rewrite of Sanctuary Arc or outright remake of the old anime, preferably cutting out filler

It is no coincidence that half the new stuff coming out the past 15 years for Saint Seiya that has gotten any sort of traction online (and not scoffed at or ignored like Dark Wing and Sho were) were either pseudo-sequels like Omega (see method A) , or movies and tv shows retelling the story of Galaxian Wars and Sanctuary Arc with new computer-assisted animation, 3D and now live action (see method B). There is a firm belief among fans that all that Saint Seiya needs to do is just get through Next Dimension and have Seiya finally climb Mount Olympus, Kratos-Style, and defeat Zeus, so that everything will be right with Saint Seiya and it can reclaim its spot of relevance, where fans can debate online freely in scaling forums and anime Discord Servers why Saint Seiya is *so* important as an influence to popular shows like My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer and Jujutsu Kaizen. I don’t know about you, but this to me just sounds a lot like Abraham Simpson fantasies, the kind where he complains he “used to be with it”, or how his descendants don’t appreciate him or give him the attention he feels entitled to. Its the kind of thinking that has no concern for the characters themselves, the voice of Kurumada or the style of storytelling they oh-so-love-so-much, and more to do with fragile weeb egos desperately trying to prove to teenagers online they shouldn’t laugh at their old show. But regardless of how I feel about it,... it’s the market of Saint Seiya. These attitudes are what define what the fans seek in Saint Seiya and what market researchers will tell their directors and animators to appeal to in future projects. Hence the glut of revisionist shows and remakes of Sanctuary Arc like Legend of Sanctuary, Knights of the Zodiac and now the 2023 LA Saint Seiya movie. So is there really a place for originality in Saint Seiya? No. Sorry. Well, don’t turn away just yet, this post ends with a positive message, just stick with me first through the valley of darkness. @melosfantasos​  is an author currently writing a remake of Saint Seiya. By their own words, “Saints of Athena” is what they wished Knights of the Zodiac by Netflix had been like. It is a fan rewrite of Saint Seiya, just like Bruno Masei’s “Legend of Seiya”. Melos, in some ways, represents this wave of wanting someone to ‘fix’ Saint Seiya, but rather than sitting around waiting for someone in Japan to read their minds and get to it, or stan accounts of fanartist shills on Twitter endlessly posting more and more ‘tributes’ to Shingo Araki, or make posts online about “Why aren’t things better? ＞︿＜Boohoo!” Melos took upon themselves to sit down and effing write. And you know what? Melos is doing a pretty good job. “Saints of Athena” is of relative quality and Melos has written 250,000 words in a year, which is a level of hardwork that should be respected no matter your opinion on the product. People, including me, have praised Melos for harnessing the potential of the characters and setting in a narrative form. And you know what? For a fandom that seems to think that the height of characterisation is Aldebaran in Kotz talking to a couple of Hoplites for five seconds about how tense things are in Sanctuary? Melos’ writing oughta be Shakesperean to them. Applause *clap clap* We got a real fan! This is it, right? This is what SS fans have been looking for. Someone with passion for the ‘narrative’ to take the reins and really use the characters the way everyone wants them to. So how many reviews has Melos gotten? 100 like Bruno? 180 like I have over 10 years? 450 like Jenny has? Maybe a 1000??? ... He’s gotten 7. For a year’s work. 3 of them are from the same people and one of them is from me. And I pretty much tell him in it that I won’t be reading because I am not interested in rewrites, but new stories. Uh.   I’m sorry, what the hell? (￣﹏￣；) 5. Spin-offs, Fanfiction and ‘Originality’ in Saint Seiya It’s no secret around FF.net that Saint Seiya fics have been going through a review drought. I publish in AO3 as well and, frankly, I don’t see that much of a difference. In fact, I get a lot more hits per chapter in FF.net. So, the question is ‘why?’ Around a week ago or so, Melos asked in a Tumblr post (mentioning me in a flattering light, btw, thank you ^_^) how come fans don’t support more original stories. I’ve conversed with the fans in various spaces over a decade and I don’t think there’s one common answer to this question. I’m not the type that thinks my work (or even Melos, no offense, please keep reading) should be given more attention simply because it’s *original*, because let’s face it, nothing is really original. Especially in fanfiction. There’s nothing new under the sun. That’s just a fact. I don’t care how weird or quirky you think you are, you’ve been influenced by something other people are already aware of. I love @jennydevic ‘s Love You, Kill Me, I think it’s one of the most ‘original’ things ever done for Saint Seiya, but guess what? I can also see the influence of South Park and Batman Animated Series in it (especially after she told me she was influenced by these lol). Her Cepheus Albiore and her June are very much Bruce Wayne and Batgirl in their dynamic. The Andromeda Island gang are various Robins, at least as far as their relationship with Albiore goes. And it’s great. So, asking why fans don’t try more ‘original content’ just... doesn’t really mean much to our markets. I can’t blame casual fans for being skeptical to when I say they should read LR because “it’s different” or subversive, especially when a lot of inexperienced writers use this as a shield to their flaws. Besides, being original or subversive is subjective. I’m sure that to a lot of people, especially people of taste, LR is nothing new or ground-breaking. It’s just ambitious, at best, and not necessarily well guided. BUT... I do think there’s a lack of curiosity on the fan’s part hidden behind a veil of feigned-curiosity, and that fans that endlessly bitch about bad spin off and movies, but then would rather buy a ticket to them or spend some extra bucks on Saori’s beach-going attire on Saint Seiya Awakening (a game designed, by the way, to make it very clear to you that the franchise exists to rip you off) than search for things fans are making, are acting fundamentally hypocritical. And I’ve been seeing this happening for well over a decade, so imagine how resigned I must feel with it. “More than Gold” is an incredible story with a premise fans should love. It’s a freaking AU about Aiolos surviving in exchange for Kido leaving behind the Sagittarius Cloth in Greece and it delves into his emotions and survival guilt and having to live in a wheelchair and rebuild his life and relationships and fighting! If you’re a Saint Seiya fan of any kind, you should stop what you’re doing and go read it right the fuck now. What are you waiting for?! To get off work?!  Quit your stupid job! All you’re gonna do with that money is spend it on Awakening anyway ￣へ￣ So go read it! More than Gold Is also about Jenny gradually discovering her love for Yaoi writing, but let’s leave that aside. There’s enough homophobes in anime fandoms. But if “More than Gold” is so goddamn perfect, as I say, how come it’s not being read? Quoted even? Because ‘something original’ isn’t what fans want. Despite what they might say. I don’t know about you, but there’s just an ugliness in the soul to going on Reddit and Twitter all the time and complain Toei doesn’t give you what you want, and then refuse to lift a finger to seek out works like Melos’ “Saints of Athena” or Jenny’s “More than Gold”, which give you everything you SAY you want, and very passionately so, but off the hand of someone that doesn’t have paid composers, animators and marketeers to legitimise it. It screams ‘envy’, not adoration, because it proves all you really want is for Saint Seiya to be what it’s not; a Dragon Ball show, but you don’t want it to work anything about itself to achieve that. In fact, many of these people don’t even try spin offs that are too different. I will never forget whiny comments made on Saintia Sho online publications that “I’m not gonna read this, because it’s Saint Seiya without Seiya. How does that even work? （︶^︶）” which is especially shocking because Chimaki is easily the most passionate spin off author of them all, in my opinion. She’s also the only spin-off author who writes Deathmask correctly, yet got the most horrible adaptation ever done for an SS manga and has been treated with dismissiveness by the fans since. What they want is something old with a fresh paint, so it won’t look so old. They want the LA movie filled with Marvelisms or a remake of the anime in the style of Hunter x Hunter’s, so they can ‘enjoy’ their cartoon without the shame of being confronted with its obsoleteness. Something ‘ truly new’ is the last thing many Saint Seiya fans want, because it doesn’t respect their nerd religion. And I don’t think people like me, or Melos, or Jenny or anyone else who want to write new things in Saint Seiya should be hanging on the hopes that these people will one day recognise them, or recognise some other fan’s work when they themselves are just sitting around waiting for a new cartoon to drop. But what choice do we have? To go ask Naruto fans to read them? And this, of course, hurts creative writing people who are passionate about what they do, because it puts them in an ever shrinking box of rejection and apathy. Jenny has made clear in her “More than Gold” chapters, even though the fic had a premise any fan of SS would love, that part of the reason she winded down production was because the lack of reader feedback was driving down enthusiasm. In her final words to the last chapter of More than Gold, Jenny says “Part of the joy of writing fanfiction is for an audience, but if there is no audience, there isn’t any point.” How heartbreaking is that? －_－Don’t worry too much about Jenny, though, she is perfectly fine. The author of Love You, Kill Me, the best Saint Seiya fanfic ever made, has moved on to greener pastures and is having fun again, bless her heart. The heartbreaking part is that we, Saint Seiya fans, have allowed this to happen. So what does this mean about me? And my obsession with Saint Seiya? Or with fans that aren’t interested in reading what I write? If there is no place for originality in Saint Seiya, why do I even bother? Pah, cause it shouldn’t matter. ＼（〇_ｏ）／ Duh! 5. Spite, Anxiety, Passion and Obsession - Why, after ten years, do I still write for a junk show I don’t like with an audience that isn’t there? It would be easy for me, after everything that I’ve written so far, to say that Lance’s Role is an engine that moves on sheer spite. I’m sure part of the truth lies in this, but that’s just too self-flattering. It paints what I do as some kind of protest against fans I don’t personally like, that I take joy in not being read by them. That I am, in a way, superior to them. That would be the Spite. But the reality is, no. I’m no better than any of them. I make plenty of mistakes in my writing and my beta-readers aren’t afraid of whacking me with their newspaper roll over them. Some of the most exciting moments I’ve had writing this fic is getting the Betas back from Jenny or my friend Elly and they let me know they like what I’m doing with characters like Lance, or Olivia, or Dohko. I am overjoyed when Jenny says she really cheered for Lance in this last chapter I wrote, or when Zeb listens to my character rambling, or when Elly tells me “hey, this is actually pretty funny”. It’s a very “please praise me some more \(￣︶￣*\)) “ kind of moment that any creative person can relate to. I still very much care what people have to say about what I write. I’ve recently joined a real writer’s server (as in, you know, people who PUBLISH) and I’ve had moments of incredible self-consciousness about everything I do, from my excessive use of ellipsis to the many references to mixed mythology that Saint Seiya forces me to employ.  I’ve been embarassed to show them what I write, but it’s also been a very interesting experience because, for the first time, I’m around a group of people that admire writing in and of itself, and not just what panders to them. This means that, paradoxically, I am aware of my flaws, terrified of them and I crave the feeling of knowing I have defeated them. For now. I think that would be the Anxiety. I think that, in a lot of ways, people write these big fanfiction projects as an exercise of fan energy. We have these crazy thoughts in our head influenced by colors and music and animated movements and, like a composer, we want to put them into paper, even if it’s really bad and you can’t really put music, colors and motions into words so well. But we also want to celebrate with others that we can find that kind of joy in what we do. I can’t speak for other writers like Melos or Jenny, but to me LR has also been a vehicle to work out some very toxic emotions in myself. The 2010s were a very difficult period for me in a lot of ways and part of the reason why I’m still alive, not just in a physical way, is because of this fic. I’m a better person for having adopted this habit and I want to know that after I’ve gone through the valley of depression and self-doubt, I have something fun and engaging to give back. Something that excites others. That in turn, would be the Passion. What is the obsession, then? Why am I obsessed with Saint Seiya? ...Well,  I’m not. I told you from the beginning of this post; I hate this franchise. It’s fucking lame and has no soul anymore. It’s largely just a vehicle, a setting for the story I want to tell. You could say I am appropriating Saint Seiya for my story the same way Kurumada appropriated Greek myths when he can’t even point on the map where the fuck in Greece Sanctuary is supposed to be at. He doesn’t even like his own show that much and his understanding of what Cosmos is changes every 2 years or so. The proof of it  is that I don’t even know what to talk about in it anymore, and I’m one of the goddamn admins at the R/SS Discord server. Everytime I want to talk about Saint Seiya, I find myself steering instead towards the things *around* it, and noticing how similar they are to other cultures I have gripes with in real life, like culture wars, politics or just the conflict of attitudes between non-prospective people and prospective people. Even in LR, the things I write with are largely manufactured concepts of my own creation within Saint Seiya. Shamballa is not a real Saint Seiya place. The map of Death Queen Island I have made is 50% headcanon. Neither are real to Saint Seiya half the things that Dohko shows Lance in Rozan, or the Princes of Hades, or the False Holy War, or even Lance himself! So maybe the Obsession... is just writing! Fuck! Ugh, I’ve inherited all of my dad’s manias, and directed them at a cartoon! (=~= God help me! So that’s the lesson, kids. Write for the sake of writing. And if you get ignored, write some more, because if you really got the itch, that’s the only thing that will scratch it.

[crazilily]

hey so i'm a stinky idiot that accesses the internet via 4000 year old rock. will i get this update despite this warning thingy i get on like every new session?

PSA

[the-firebird69]

We go ahead and we put restrictions on BJA and several others i'm sending the list in now.

- Here's several things going on firstly Dave running around with a carriage with nuclear weapons what's not really something they knew about and it's something we knew about. John Remelard thought it would be code he could use and then he thought it would point us out and he he means himself so they're going back and forth terry Cheesman and him and he doesn't want to do it which usually means that he does and he comes back around after cheeseman puts him away and we feel he sends the car. And it is code that he's using and he's trying to say our son is roboticized and dumb things like that that BG has been saying he's he's also insane and dangerous both of them are nuts and we're going to fill them full of holes but the timing is right with September 22nd trump would be out probably for a week and he would come back running for Terry Cheesman and he would use trying to hit cheeseman as cover and he would try and get us to agree to hit achievements areas because he's good at it and stuff like that now that makes sense but he would have to have money to drive a car around you need insurance and you need gas and it does not explain that and he'd simply have to sell it and people don't believe it but that's what it would happen because the monthly insurance is too much it's about a $120 a month or $100 a month and it's too much. It's too high here anyways. Maintenance and gasoline make it a prohibitively expensive so really it's putting a cart before the Horse and I don't think that he would even tell them that he's going to sell it so he doesn't tend to do that he wants to get the car and have it brought down here and he'll sell it and you can sell it online and then come down and examine it and they'll give you probably $1000 less than what it's worth and people say that's not right and he says that's what I would do because you're asking me to cut my own throat and they say you could sell an ebay for a year of Insurance and he says the E bike is my insurance for the year it says what do you care i'm gonna sell it whether you **** know it or not. And yeah it'll get Ronald de Rudy out of the Social Security office and Terry Cheeseman would make it happen it's funny it's gonna be but then he says we intend to get money to you and he says 20 grand from Social Security is all the old it's not enough and it will it will come in pieces and it's not gonna help He says with the car I was spending like an extra $200 a month a month but $300 a month I wasn't saving that much let's say$4000 a year. Grade school math. So we're listening to this and we're going to hit this **** **** **** in their store and the other one and if they if they bring it down and hand the title over that's good if they don't who cares they can drive anywhere they want they do it all day long we think you can get about 10 grand and he likes that that's good he needs that kind of money and he doesn't care what you say trump you're an idiot he doesn't care if it's your master program everything is hinging on it he's going to sell it because of that. Anything to get at you. and your a moron trump

we use this he is so damned dumb. and yeh will bring it anyways. and is stupid. lol. nd tons say it sold the car at a loss to save moneya dn he is daft. now we look need another ebike non needs to save money. and cant too well. we help shortly.

Thor Freya

Olympus

[heprevaricated]

a old description about my oc, Quinn. love him <3 also includes some little facts abt him

this is him in one of my stories revolving around my apocalypse au

Description

--

Quinn stands a whopping 5 feet and 7.4 inches tall. Has downturned, and striking light brown eyes. His skin is tan with moles scattered across his whole body. He has straight (sort of wavy), ink-black hair that almost passes his ears, accompanied by his small, little bangs in the front that he clips back. Wears a dark camo military jacket given to by his ma, along with a stained, long-sleeved shirt underneath. Has matching dark camo pants with thick knee pads and big scruffed-up brown military boots. Carries a knife holder on his right thigh. He has a dark red scarf around his neck (he loops it around a good number of times for extra security).

some facts

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・24 years old.

・Big softy. A big loser, even.

・Had two moms: Ma, and Mom. Ma served in the military. notice the HAD. lmao

・Canasian (Asian-Canadian) is canasian a word...?????

・Chinese

・He/him

・Cisguy whos a bit silly

Silly Facts

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・Eats strawberries whole. Leaves and all.

・Knows how to cookk

・Knows how to handle a pistol thanks to his Ma bringing him to shooting ranges.

・Played soccer throughout high school and somewhat in college.

・Aimed to be a culinary chef after failing to get a sports scholarship.

・Bit of a social dunce.

・Is super good at chemistry.

・Is far-sighted

・Can NOT handle the cold. freezes in 70 degree weather

・Has over 4000 hours in Stardew Valley. Managed to get Jace (his boyfriend) to play so they can get married in every playthrough. loser stardew fanatic

・Was originally supposed to be an idiotic jock. But, dumb jocks hurt my soul so I made him a smart jock </3. Was originally inspired to look like Nick from Heartstopper but I hate British people /hj.

・In sophomore year, dyed his hair an obnoxious color of blonde by accident. Like i mean, neon highlighter yellow. Then started doing it on purpose throughout his life (before the apocalypse, ofc)

[gum-iie]

“what part of immortal do you not understand?”

[caffeine-high]

im so sorry but there's ANOTHER Kian copypasta???? i need to know about this lol im the one who rewrote the 'I've come to make an announcement' copypasta lmao

sorta! :3

i was hoping for there to be an original kian copypasta, but that doesn't really seem to exist so when i was near the end of watching calamidade i rewrote the jurgen leitner copypasta which i have been using instead! or rather, ive been using edited, despoilered versions of it

original one contains full Calamidade spoilers, but the Desconjuração version is under the cut

KIAN KUSHIM?

STUPID IDIOT MOTHERFUCKING KIAN GOD DAMN FOOL DUST EATING OLD ASS BASTARD SHITHEAD IDIOT CARRIER OF THE WHORE RELIC BIGGEST CLOWN IN THE CIRCUS LAUGHED OUT OF TOWN COWBOY MOTHERFUCKING KIAN

THINKS HE KNOWS ALL YET BEING FAUGHT BY PEOPLE WHO COULN’T EVEN OPEN A FUCKING DOOR

KIAN “YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND THE AWESOMENESS OF MY PLAN” KIAN FUCKING 4000 YEARS OLD YET NEVER LEARNED EMOTIONAL INTELLIGENCE GIVING 13 YEAR OLD YELLING AT VIDEOGAMES CHIQUE

STOP PINNING ME WHEN I TALK ABOUT KAIN I HATE HIM SO MUCH WHY DOES HE HAVE SO MANY FUCKED UP RITUALS WHY DID HE DECIDE TO FUCK AROUND AND FIND OUT JUST SET THEM LOOSE MAN HAS SUCH A VISCERAL AFFECT ON ME

if i could go to tenebris and explore the unexplored, but the other side said kian was waiting inside i would piss on the other side’s feet for the sole purpose of getting sent back to reality, i would make a thiago and cesar special and kick that door so hard it gives me damage to close it

if i had to deal with taking kian seriously for one moment of my fucking life not only will i close the tab i will delete every bookmark and generated subtitle out of fucking spite have to watch all of desconjuração again and spend half my life in the manor for the experience of being able to then skip over the parts where kian is mentioned

yes he has a fucked up backstory to explain how he is, but it does not explain just how much of a fucking child he is wheeeh wheeh you were mean to me so now i have to kill you and keep beating your dead body while shouting about how superiour i am SHUT THE FUCK UP

paypal.com/FuckingHateKianKushim every cent goes towards getting merch shipped to places it currently is not

the story should not even be about him, taking 4000 years just to get marked and get noticed by senpai then will probably loose all of that within a fucking year

mr i am the first occultist mr i know all, mr planned for this his whole 4000 year life and managed to so catastrofically fuck up that within a year it will become undone

man’s never heard of the sunk cost fallacy, oh ive already killed thousands upon thousands upon thousands of people, truly i cannot stop now FUCKER, you can quit at any time ya know best time was 4000 years ago, next best time was after the first life you took, next best time after the second, but truly, the (next*x^n)th best time is right fucking now

disconjuration? well discon-tinue your fucking story mate

i fucking hope we know the exact date of your defeat because im going to set a reminder in my phone and every year i will see it and i will laugh at this fucker who at the height of his power could not even keep himself composed enough to not sound like a fucking preteen who needs a nap

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Helena

Published: Feb 20, 2022

My name is Helena, and as of this writing I’m a 23-year-old woman who, as a teenager, believed I was transgender. In the years since detransitioning (stopping testosterone treatment and no longer seeing myself as transgender), I’ve become interested in exploring why, in the last decade, nearly every English-speaking country has seen a meteoric rise in adolescents believing they are transgender and pursuing cosmetic medical and surgical interventions. Here, I’d like to go over how and why I came to see myself as transgender, the process of transitioning, and the events leading up to and following my detransition.

The short version of my detransition story for those who want the bare details is that when I was fifteen, I was introduced to gender ideology on Tumblr and began to call myself nonbinary. Over the next few years, I would continue to go deeper and deeper down the trans identity rabbit hole, and by the time I was eighteen, I saw myself as a “trans man”, otherwise known as “FtM”. Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, I made an appointment at a Planned Parenthood to begin a testosterone regimen. At my first appointment, I was prescribed testosterone, and I would remain on this regimen for a year and a half. It had an extremely negative effect on my mental health, and I finally admitted what a disaster it had been when I was 19, sometime around February or March 2018. When the disillusionment fully set in, I stopped the testosterone treatment and began the process of getting my life back on track. It has not been easy, and the whole experience seriously derailed my life in ways I could never have foreseen when I was that fifteen-year-old kid playing with pronouns on Tumblr.

But what leads a girl with no history of discomfort with stereotypical “girl” toys and clothes, or even the slightest desire to be a boy in childhood, to want to be a “man” through hormonal injections as she approached adulthood? In a vacuum, such a profound confusion leading to such drastic measures sounds like it should be rare and a sign of some sort of severe mental disturbance. Was I a fluke? Was I some kind of idiot who mistakenly believed I was trans because I’m crazy or just downright irresponsible?

The truth is that there has been an extreme rise in adolescents, especially girls, believing they are transgender. UK NHS referral data shows a 4000% increase in pediatric gender service referrals (not a typo). So-called “gender dysphoria”, which was once a very rare diagnosis that described mostly prepubescent boys and adult men, is now most commonly diagnosed in teenage girls. Activists will argue that these explosive numbers are a result of increased societal acceptance, and that at long last trans people are coming out of hiding and living as their authentic selves. If this were true, one might expect to see comparable rates of transgender identity across all age groups and between both sexes, but its disproportionately adolescent females feeling that warm and fuzzy inclusive acceptance. Considering “acceptance” now implies supraphysiological doses of cross sex hormones and having healthy body organs surgically rearranged, it’s worth a deeper look into what kinds of factors are driving this population clamoring to go under the knife.

[ Continued on Substack... ]

This is a very long, very compelling, very personal essay by a woman who got caught up in gender ideology, but thankfully realized she made a mistake before doing any irreversible damage. It’s far too long to post here - a good 20-30 minute read - but well spending the time on.

I wanted to pull out a part of it that stuck with me.

How could I have been so stupid?

I couldn’t bring myself to tell Jamie what I was truly thinking. I knew that she would probably freak out and try to make me rationalize away these feelings, but it was too late for that now. The dam had broken. Instead, I silently berated myself and catastrophized internally until I mustered the courage to tell my very pro-LGBT therapist: being trans had been a massive mistake.

I remember her response clear as day: “But you always tell me about your terrible dysphoria!”

“I know, but I… I don’t think that’s what it is” I replied, and started to tell her my still developing thoughts on how I had developed the “dysphoria” after finding out about gender identities online as a teenager, when I had been struggling with so many other emotional issues for a long time, and that in retrospect I must have gotten carried away, thinking that being trans was the explanation and solution for all of my problems. She wasn’t really hearing me, and questioned the things I said from the angle of “you’re trying to talk yourself out of being trans because transphobia is making you hate yourself.” Ironic that nobody ever questioned my desire to be trans that way.

This was the first moment I started realizing something was off about the trans movement, and institutions in general. I had experienced this massive realization, and it was agonizing but at least it was finally something real, and here I was being met with all these rationalizations for why this of all things was a psychological symptom. Not the effects of the testosterone, not my belief that all of my problems would be solved by transitioning, not my aversion to being female, but the fact that I now knew transitioning had been a mistake.

I left this session feeling frustrated, and I don’t think I ever went back. Sitting in the car outside the building, I told Jamie that I was regretting my transition and questioning my trans identity in general, and predictably she was extremely upset. She reacted in anger, saying I must be confused and, like my therapist, accusing me of having these thoughts due to some underlying psychological issue, like only an insane person would ever regret being trans.

She was not being uniquely harsh here, this is a common occurrence in the trans community. In one direction, there’s a desire to encourage gender questioning in others who have not questioned their gender yet (some people call this “cracking an egg”). In the other direction, there is an intense fear of others changing their minds about being trans or wanting to transition. Once someone is questioning their gender, there’s a push to encourage them to take steps towards social and medical transition, which, once initiated, makes changing one’s mind more complicated and going back to living as they did before more difficult. I personally have gotten very angry and desperate when friends in the past would voice doubts about identifying as transgender, and I have also encouraged gender questioning and trans identity in friends of mine who did not yet identify as trans. I regret this very much now, as some of these friends have gone on to medically transition, and I no longer believe this was remotely in their best interest. But in the trans community, people cope with the inherent doubts and cognitive dissonance of pretending to be someone they are not by encouraging others to do the same. This is also why so many adult trans people advocate for child transition. If an innocent, pure child can “be trans”, that validates their identity and belief system too. An enormous amount of mental energy is devoted to the crowdsourcing of validation and firefighting of anything that triggers internal conflict, which is always nagging in the back of the mind.

When a person is at peace with themselves and expressing themselves naturally, they don’t desperately micromanage everything and everyone around them.

Consider someone who doesn’t hold a belief in a god, becomes a Xian, then deconverts. The Xians from the church they left might accuse this person of “having these thoughts due to some underlying psychological issue” and never spot the hypocrisy.

Apparently it’s relevant only when disparaging someone leaving the group, but is never a consideration when welcoming someone into it.

If we question the ethics when Xians do this, why other than reasons of activism, wouldn’t we do the same here?

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Hell and heaven [S.B.]

Sirius Black x fem!reader good omens au!

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: it is not necessary to have seen the series to understand it

N/A: This may not be very good because I think I have covid:( and I've been crying for a long time. Writing made me feel better but I really don't even know how it turned out. I saw the series today and I really liked it a lot. Although it is very brief I hope you like it

You walked in long strides, anger beginning to build inside your stomach, and wishing you were inside your apartment for a cup of tea and reading a book with the ease that humans could enjoy. But you were not human and you could never be calm as long as he existed.

"Come here, angel!" he yelled behind you "You're not really upset about that, are you?" he asked him with that smug tone that you wanted to wash off with holy water if necessary.

Sirius Black was the worst demon you have ever met.

"Get out of here, you idiot if you don't want me to accuse you of fraternizing with the enemy!"

"Hmm, technically you're doing it too so I don't know how things work out with your boss, but I don't think I'm the only one who could get punished, don't you think so?" he bragged. For God's sake, he was insufferable.

You and Sirius had been on earth longer than you would have liked to admit. God and Satan respectively had sent you to help a little with earthly problems and to keep an eye on each other a bit, which had been more difficult than expected.

I mean, technically you were keeping an eye on each other... pretty good, actually.

"Besides," he added. You were in a quite remote area of ​​London that you used to frequent when you needed help with something, but almost always that old kiosk witnessed fights of hellish dimensions "I thought angels weren’t swearing and you just called me an idiot"

"Guess who I learned them from?" you murmured rolling your eyes. You didn't want to turn to watch him, because you knew that Sirius would take this opportunity to convince you not to be angry with him anymore. You kept walking, aimlessly, with the boy trying to reach you.

"To be small you walk very fast, Y/N" he murmured in response, panting a little from the exhaustion of following you during those minutes.

"And wait for it to start flying"

"I have wings too, in case you've forgotten," he said calmly.

If you had learned anything in those 4000 or 3000 years (you weren't really keeping track) it was that Sirius always found a way to turn things in his favor. He was carefree and very rarely thought what he said. He was mean, rude to most people, and conceited. That his hair had gone through a thousand styles over the years, that he had been involved in a couple of wars and was personally in charge of collaborating in the creation of some narcotics used by thousands of humans. You knew he didn't have a favorite food because he had tried all the foods in the world and he was very indecisive. You knew that when he showered he liked to use tangerine shampoo for some strange reason and you also knew that sometimes he had a lot of nightmares. But he always managed to make things seem the easiest in the world.

“Are you listening to me or will I have to keep you walking all over London? Not a problem for me, if you ask me. I like to exercise” he said cheerfully. He was right, you couldn't keep running away from him because being the insistent bastard that he was he wouldn't leave you alone until he got what he wanted.

You stopped, a little resigned, letting out a sigh and finally facing the man. You had always envied a bit how good the color black was on Sirius and that day he was no exception. He was dressed in a jacket, military boots, ripped jeans, a silver ring, and circular sunglasses. His hair, now shorter than usual, was a bit disheveled and you wished you could perform a miracle and fix it.

"You have two minutes to explain to me how it is that you accidentally broke one of the sacred articles that I have in my department and why it shouldn't disintegrate you because of that" you pronounced without taking your eyes off him. Sirius smiled widely and clasping his hands raised them to the sky.

"I knew you would come to your senses" he murmured as he closed the distance between you and took both of your hands in his "To begin with, I didn't break it, it was the ball I was playing with" he started to say. You had regretted giving him the opportunity to speak "and to continue, I don't think anything will happen if it's a bit broken, don't you think?"

"And how do you think I'm going to explain it to Gabriel if he asks me?" You said in a stern voice “Hello Gabriel, I no longer have that device that you put in my care because my demon boyfriend stayed in my apartment last night and accidentally hit him. I'm sorry, greetings to the Almighty God" you exclaimed sharpening your voice. Sirius smiled slightly and removed his glasses, showing his pretty chocolate eyes. For some reason they were normal, just like yours and the humans. They were not strangely colored, nor were they completely black. What's more, you could even say they were very pretty.

"Did you just call me your boyfriend?" he asked touched. You frowned and what little peace you had recovered was completely gone.

"I can't stand you Sirius!" you exclaimed annoyed, trying to get out of there again. But one of your hands was still being held by his and he took advantage of this to pull you back to him with a half smile on his lips.

"Hey, don't be so grumpy" he said amused, hugging you from behind and speaking into your ear. You wanted to say that it bothered you to be held like that by him, but it really didn't. His body was very warm and fit perfectly with yours. "I'm sorry I broke whatever I broke, I didn't know it was so important. I promise to fix it, but please don't be mad at me anymore, okay? " he murmured gently. You exhaled heavily, annoyed with yourself for not being able to say no to any of his apologies.

But you were an angel after all, being kind and caring was in your nature.

"I swear to you that if you cause another disaster like that I'll move to a church and you won't be able to visit me again, do you understand?"

"Oh, what are you saying?" he murmured, giggling. "I have seduced you to evil so many times that I would be a little worried that you can enter a church and be safe"

"If you don't shut up right now I'm going to reconsider forgiving you" you warned him. But he, as always, just laughed. Without saying anything, he raised one of his hands to your face and guided your face to the side, gently taking it by the cheek.

"Look at you" he whispered, more to himself than to you, maintaining that charming smile that drove you crazy "So heavenly" he joked, making you narrow your gaze. His laugh was caught in his throat because seconds later he was kissing you.

And so, the whole problem ended.

[darknickelbakerysuitcase]

The Earth is millions of years old, don’t know exactly how old but it sure as hell is older than 4000 years, you must be talking to one of those Bible idiots or a flat earther it’s hard to believe that they breathe the same air as the rest of us

Checkmate except they don’t play chess, more like checkers http://dlvr.it/T2z19d