#you know- full of spite

[dollypopup]

'colin needs to grovel' 'colin should suffer' 'pen can't let him off easy'

please, his mother in law is about to be PORTIA, doesn't the man have enough curses in his life?

[jade-wyton]

Woe, fat dragon be upon ye! Y'all are welcome to use it as a reference for making your own art.

CSP Download || Dropbox Download

[hetafice]

hi hi !! loveee your blog so far, it’s v nice to see more hetalia writers popping up again. if you’re interested in tackling this request, i’d like to see your take on how a yandere romano would deal with feelings of jealousy in regards to his darling getting a little too close than what his insecure brain’s comfortable with to his brother veneziano? 🫶💕

tysm! these are still yandere hcs, but i actually ended up also doing a small character study. i’ve been wanting to do those more recently so if you’re interested send in a request! bonus points if it’s not a super popular character. + this came out a lot longer than intended, so enjoy.

This is something Lovino would not be able to handle.

He has spent centuries trying to navigate the minefield that is the relationship with his brother--with varying degrees of success. One thing that has remained constant, however, is the fact that people overwhelmingly prefer his younger brother.

Romano has seemingly tried everything. Careful imitation, acting the complete opposite, sabotaging from the shadows, acting as right-hand man, you name it. Nothing has seemed to stick.

Even now, he’s invisible. Reduced to the lesser half a whole. Forever shackled to his brother, effectively prevented from exercising his own agency.

It’s never fun to be stuck in someone's shadow, but for the person whose shadow you're stuck in to be so unflinchingly blasé about it? For one to be as stuck as long as Lovino has? Being forcefully denied your own personhood like that often breeds contempt. Hatred like that can simmer under the surface for decades, even centuries before bubbling over and being noticed by others. Holding hatred like that for so long as he has? It’s almost enough to drive someone mad.

But when he gets you and has something of his own for once he relaxes a bit. There’s no need to be on edge, to constantly put on airs, because he has someone in his corner. Someone who has taken the time to know him on a deep, personal level. Someone, who despite his faults, is willing to love him, and in turn trusts him enough to love them back. That alone is enough to satiate him, to quiet his restless mind, and dull the sharp blade of self-hatred that’s been lingering within him for so long.

So when he discovers you calmly conversing with the man who has unknowingly tormented him for so long, he almost does not know what to do with himself.

It’s almost as if he’s on autopilot, mindlessly drifting over to where the two of you stand, immediately trying to assess the situation.

 In your eyes, the conversation with Veneziano was just much overdue. It was impolite to not introduce yourself to someone so close to your partner. Lovino would never say so, but sometimes the refusal to introduce you to his loved ones felt intentional. Whenever you would press the issue, he would hastily arrange a meeting to calm you down. It worked a few times; you got to meet a few of his friends, and even his pseudo-guardian/older brother/ mentor (you never were quite sure of the nature of their relationship), but you never got the chance to meet Veneziano. Occasions where you two were set to meet would mysteriously get canceled due to unforeseen circumstances. You also noticed that he would always get strangely cagey at the mention of his younger brother. 

At first, he would try to covertly sow discord between the two of you, in hopes that you would have a falling-out. In his mind, if he could manufacture situations to make you see his brother’s shortcomings, you wouldn’t want to be around him.

When he discovers, to his horror, that you have grown closer to his brother despite the careful machinations, he would spiral.

To you and Veneziano, your friendship is as right as rain, completely unforced, and a natural progression. After knowing each other peripherally for so long, making friends with you just makes sense.

But to Romano, this is yet another event point, in a seemingly infinite pattern of behavior. Time and time again, Romano finds something of his own, takes a liking to it, starts to cherish it, but only until Veneziano comes along and tries to take it. He always manages, because he is always successful in everything that he does. Afterwards, Romano is then left with nothing but more hatred to swallow and another large bruise on his ego. He can’t let it happen again, not this time, not after cultivating a relationship so pure, not like this, not-

He devises to stop it. Whatever it is between the two of you. Immediately.

Lovino, who has always been romantic, will up the ante. You suddenly find yourself whisked away on trips abroad more often than you are sat at home. How could you find the time to catch up with his brother when you have a date that night, another trip to pack for? To you, it seems as though you have entered a second honeymoon phase in your relationship. Unbeknownst to you, he’s tirelessly working to separate you. He shall get Veneziano away before he tries to take what is rightfully his for the umpteenth time.

Before your increased contact with Veneziano, your relationship was, by all accounts, normal.

You met Lovino by happenstance, and your romance blossomed at a pace that felt comfortable and right. He was nothing but loving and attentive, if a bit temperamental at times. But after you meet his brother, you notice a palpable shift in his attitude. He snaps at people more and always seems to be in deep thought. But he’s kinder in some ways as well. He’s now always concerned about your safety and likes to know where you’re going beforehand, not after the fact like you used to do. He figured out that you love the gifts he gets you, so you now receive way more of them. He’s more appreciative of everything you do as well. So much so that one day, after a particularly elaborate meal, he suggests you quit your job to take care of the home. To his delight, you eventually agree, but any joy is quickly stamped out when he hears you happily explaining your new living arrangement to his brother.

He can’t stand it really, as his mind sails through countless scenarios, unearthing trauma he thought had been resolved (or safely buried) since the early Renaissance. He doesn't know why his mind takes him in this direction, but then again he doesn't know a lot of things. He doesn't know why efforts to separate the two of you don't work, or why nothing he does ever seems to work. Why is it that he is never enough? Why, after so many attempts and failures, did Grandfather never really seem to grow fond of him? 

After yet another night of being forced to confront these long-dormant worries, he decides enough is enough. If you cannot take the hints he has so kindly given you, then he will separate the two of you by force.

Long gone are your days of exploring the city alone. No more impromptu cafe trips, walks around the park, or unsupervised trips to the post office. You are expected to stay at home, and at home you stay.

“Amore mio, it’s too dangerous out there,” he says. “There’s nothing nearby worth seeing, and you know how I feel about you driving.”

And you believe him because why wouldn’t you? He cares for you more than anyone! More than your coworkers, your friends who stopped visiting, or even your family who mysteriously don’t care enough to call anymore…

And just like that, you have been delegated to remain in the domicile. Showering him and only him with your seemingly infinite divine grace for as long as time permits it.

It’s so simple that he regrets not doing it sooner.

As for his ingrate brother, he will do anything to ensure he does not go sniffing anywhere he need not be. 

It takes nothing to ruin Veneziano’s reputation. To oust him as an incompetent womanizer. Someone whose words of concern should never be taken seriously.

To Lovino, it is well worth it. He’ll put an end to the madness, he must. Even if it means making you unhappy, or betraying his own blood, or dirtying his hands with sin, or being at the receiving end of your icy gaze for the rest of eternity.

But you aren’t unhappy, are you now? You’re over the moon, and why wouldn’t you be? You are given everything you need and more. Besides, Lovino doesn't like it when you frown.

“Look happy now. You have no reason not to,” he always says.

[password-door-lock]

“Surprise!” 

Unknown nearly jumps out of his skin. What are you doing yelling like that? Hasn’t he told you a hundred times by now to stay quiet while he’s working? But when he turns around to tell you as much, he stops in his tracks. “What do you think you’re doing?” becomes a much more pressing question. 

You’re walking at an awkward angle, propping the door open with one leg while you hop on the other and drag some long rectangle through the doorway with both hands. “I got you a present!” You announce. “Happy early birthday! Or… late birthday? I don’t know, man, you seem like a Gemini, so I’m gonna guess it’s close enough to your birthday that it’s not weird for me to give you a gift.”

Unknown is too busy being bothered by the fact that you’re bringing some unauthorized thing into the intelligence room to be bothered by the fact that you’re trying to guess when his birthday is. You’re not necessarily wrong, either… but he’ll worry about that later. Right now, he has to worry about whatever “gift” it is that you’re trying to give him. You’ve managed to get it inside, and you kick the door shut before tucking the rectangle under your arm and bringing it over to his desk. “What is it?”

You grin at him, flipping the item around so he’s confronted with his own reflection. “A full-length mirror! Tada!” You look proud of yourself.

“Why would you get me something like that?” Unknown demands, “And who said you were allowed to order things?” Truth be told, he has no idea how you even managed to procure such a thing. It’s not as if he lets you roam around Magenta unsupervised, and you certainly don’t have any way to access the internet without him looming over your shoulder. He does occasionally write shopping lists for you to give to the believer in charge of weekly grocery runs, but C3170 would know better than to just take your word for it if you asked for something that wasn’t on the list.

Your lips form an amusing o-shape before you respond. “Yeah, about that. I sort of… forged your handwriting? Okay, no need to reach for any weapons.” You hold up your hands, showing your palms, as if you think you can anticipate his next course of action. “I didn’t expect it to work either. I honestly thought the grocery guy would be like, ‘that’s not his writing’ and send me packing. But I figured, hey, it’s worth a shot! So I spent like, an hour copying the font from the real grocery list to make a fake one, and I brought it to the guy like normal, and he was like, ‘yeah, okay, this checks out; this seems like your boss wrote it; don’t worry, I won’t keep him waiting; for eternal paradise,’ so, here we are with a brand-new mirror!” 

“You forged my handwriting,” Unknown grumbles, “And then you manipulated a believer into spending the Savior’s money on… this.” 

“Yes.” You confirm, “When you put it like that it sounds a lot worse than it is, though. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to, like, get things around here?” 

“I made it that way on purpose.” Unknown rubs his temples, and his reflection in the mirror does the same. Who would have thought that having an assistant would be this much trouble? “Did you at least put the shit I actually needed on your made-up list?” If you didn’t, you’ll be spending the rest of the day sitting in the corner, staring at the wall, and thinking about your bad decisions. Unknown has half a mind to send you over there anyway, considering you had the nerve to forge his handwriting. Why would you risk so much on something so utterly stupid? 

“Of course,” you grin, “I know you can’t get along without your caffeine pills and candy bars. Anyway, please enjoy your full-length mirror.” 

Unknown scowls at his reflection, which scowls right back at him. As if he needs a mirror to tell him how annoyed he is. It was a mistake to leave you unsupervised, and one he won’t ever make again. “Why did you waste money on this? There’s already a mirror in the bathroom.” He should know. He uses it to check his eyeliner, his hair, and (though he’d never breathe a word about it to anyone) the careful placement of his jacket. 

“Man, please don’t take this the wrong way,” you cringe, “Because the top half of your look is great, and it’s really hard to do black skinny jeans wrong, so all things considered, the bottom half is also… mostly great. Um, however… the thing is… it’s just…” 

“Spit it out.” All this talking, and now you can’t even tell him whatever it is you wanted to say? Why bother digging yourself into this hole in the first place if you won’t do anything interesting now that you’re down there?

“I just thought you might benefit from being able to see your whole, entire outfit at one time.” You allow him a long pause to study himself in the mirror. What’s wrong with his outfit? “Shoes included,” you add eventually. 

Unknown glances down at his shoes. They look fine. They’re just shoes, and they serve their purpose well enough— he’s kicked out windows with them and never gotten a single splinter. They fit him, so he never gets blisters, and his feet don’t get cold from the unforgiving floors of the intelligence room. Isn’t that what shoes are supposed to be for? Then he redirects his attention to the mirror and… wow, his shoes really stand out. Now that you’ve pointed out that there’s something wrong with them, they’re all he can focus on. “It doesn’t match,” he realizes. And the untied laces don’t look as cool as he thought they did, but he won’t give you the satisfaction of hearing him admit it.

“No, it doesn’t match!” You sound much too enthusiastic about this conclusion, “It has never matched. They look great on their own, but just… with the outfit…” 

“Why didn’t you say something about this sooner?” Unknown demands. He can’t believe that this is even a conversation he has to have with you. He doesn’t like that you’ve been plotting in secret, lying to believers, and even impersonating him by way of forgery just to make a point about his boots. What an inconsequential little hill to die on. “How long have you been laughing at my shoes behind my back?” 

You’re bold enough to giggle at his words. “To be honest? Months? But I didn’t want to upset you, and for a while I thought it was, like, intentional, or maybe you didn’t have access to other shoes, and I didn’t want to be rude. But then you told me you were gonna tie a rope to something on the roof and climb down to break into an apartment and I was like, ‘okay, well, then he definitely knows how to tie his shoes, so why is he leaving them like that?’ And, you know, now that I’ve been seeing more of this place… I’ve been here a long time, and I’ve never seen one full-length mirror anywhere. Until today.” You place your hand over your heart in a pantomime of solemnity. 

“Mhm,” Unknown hums. He’s going to have to do something about your behavior before this treachery of yours becomes a regular thing. “You won’t get to see any more of this place after today.” 

“I’m grounded?” You demand. You seem to understand what he’s telling you, at least. “That is not fair! I helped you!” You’re starting to whine at him, like you couldn’t have possibly seen this coming when you were copying his handwriting and tricking a believer into buying some useless thing that’s only going to get thrown away. 

“I don’t care what my shoes look like.” It’s the truth. Unknown could not give less of a shit about his footwear outside of its practical purpose-- but you seem to care quite a bit, and he enjoys the knowledge that he can get under your skin like this. “You can stay in the intelligence room with me from now on. The believers can bring us food, since I can’t let you out of my sight again if I know you’re going to be off causing trouble every time I take my eyes off you.” 

“I’ve only caused trouble one time,” you protest, “And it was for a good cause.” 

“Set that thing down,” is Unknown’s only response. He doesn’t have time to try to reason with you, and since you’re his assistant, you should just be listening on your own, anyway. 

“Set that thing down,” you mock him, but comply with his instructions before he can even shoot you a warning look. You gently set the mirror on the floor, and as soon as it’s out of your hands, Unknown scoops you up, pulling you onto his lap. 

“Now, stay here. Don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong again or you’ll regret it, little assistant.” 

“All this coming from a guy with untied, mismatched shoes,” you grumble. 

Unknown ruffles your hair. What exactly is he going to do with you? 

[pointlessjey]

Kipo headcannon: Those affected by the cure age differently from normal animals. Why else is yumyan an elderly cat still alive after five years.

This makes sense actually!

I also like the headcanon that he's just one of those cats that look like a old man no matter their age

[benetnvsch]

It’s like nearly 2 am and I’m losing it I fear but I feel like I could Make the 0megaverse But Better idk

[acrobattack]

i don’t know if this is a hot take or not but the rr/b skew more neutral than evil to me

[iftitah]

.

[gingerbreadmonsters]

oh this is going to be......... a problem actually

[perfectharmonyloveschaos]

Y'know what would be the funniest cut they could do in Ahsoka? Having Shin, Balyan, and Morgan Elsbeth all talking super seriously about Thrawn. Just a whole scene of them talking about how strategic and brilliant he is, and how he must've faced such serious complications to need their help escaping.

Only for it to cut to Thrawn yelling and screaming over Ezra hiding his artworks across the planet and he refuses to leave until they hunt Ezra down and find them.

[astutior]

@desolxte ♡'d.

There will always be people who have something to say about the scouts, regardless of their accomplishments. Today, it's a man in a suit, now walking away, chuckling to himself as if slinging insults at the people who risk their lives to protect fools like him is some big accomplishment. Armin can't help but roll his eyes.

"I've heard wearing a necktie can actually reduce blood flow to the brain," he mutters, not realizing Levi is standing within earshot. "He must have been involved in the study."

[dylanlila]

thank you guys for being kind to me about that message

[beepbeepkazoo]

"oh the family dinner went well" (not even 8 hours later my mom and grandma get in a blowup fight about me not getting inviting and my mom not pushing for me to go to this bridal shower)

[leatherbookmark]

also i'm team rinharu for the record. obviously

[zootzbootz]

it genuinely infuriates us that one of the larger plural servers on discord is ran by people who r literally ableist against cluster b disorders LMFAO.

I won't go into more detail.

but if you know. then you KNOW.

:)

[actias-android]

I announced this on Mythcord as well, but I might as well put it here too. I'm going to be entirely leaving the server soon after 6 years of running it. Some of the text will be familiar to those on the server but it's not a direct copy-paste, either, and I'm definitely going to be a lot more opinionated on here. I pulled my punches on the in-server announcement but this is my personal blog.

When I started Mythcord, I was looking for something. I couldn't tell you what, exactly, just that I felt like there was some Great Big Secret, and maybe nobody had all the pieces, but maybe some people had some of the pieces, and if I brought them together in an environment specifically designed for discussion, we'd assemble enough of the pieces that I would find The Thing I Was Looking For. And hey, everyone else might find their thing too.

Which, you know, decent motivation! Not a bad plan. The problem was that the thing that I ended up discovering was absolutely contrary to what I expected, and indeed contrary to the kind of place it was.

Really I found out two things: one, I'm not otherkin. I'm nonhuman, yes, but I am not the kind of nonhuman who's described by the word otherkin. I don't see my Self as something that can be split into spiritual or psychological, voluntary or involuntary, dysphoric or non-dysphoric, serious or frivolous, meaningful or random, intrinsic or extrinsic, chosen or thrust upon me—none of it. It doesn't even feel like it applies. This is like asking what flavor the moon would be if tomorrow was Thursday. It's not something I even know how to begin to address. None of the cultural parameters that are indicated by the label otherkin make sense to me in the context of my own identity. I can see where they have meaning to others. I can't see where I would begin to apply them to myself. I am literally just whatever I am right now, because I am happiest being this, and if that changes, I'm cool with it. I'll be something else and live my best life being that.

I also picked up a second identity as a reploid and promptly fumbled my first fae identity so hard it's lost in the carpet somewhere. Possibly rolled under the couch. It exists, but fuck if I can find it. A fictional type of android has no business or indeed interest in heading a community for mythical creatures with a completely different understanding of their nonhumanity. I can't keep doing it. I actually just get upset looking at the server anymore because it has no relation to me, and that's a disservice to the community that exists there.

The second thing I discovered was that the general otherkin subcultural community I've encountered is deeply fucked up. I've only really interacted in any meaningful way via Discord (and only a few servers at that) and Tumblr, and I've stayed pretty insular. I mostly post my little essays and thoughts and I don't usually have much to say directly to anybody. And yet, even with this absolute minimum of interaction, I've been on the business end of pointless drama, poorly-attempted character assassination, people flagrantly just making up shit about me to justify treating me like some horrible villain, aggressive gatekeeping, inexplicable grudges, gossip-mongering, finding out that I live rent-free in multiple people's heads as a bogeyman both too stupid to function and somehow too threatening to go unwatched, people trying to pit the Mythcord mod team against each other evidently not realizing we're IRL friends, and that one time some ineffectual douchecanoe said he was going to kill me then completely forgot what his plan to do so was. Some of this was just by vengeful random morons, but some of it was by so-called community leaders. All of it was by people in their late 20s and older. You know, adults, who should know better.

In what universe is any of that behavior okay? And yet, if I complained about it to anybody, I got told that I probably deserved it, that they'd totally seen worse drama so I should just chill, and people absolutely and repeatedly leapt at the chance to report any little fucking thing I said back to the people perpetuating it so they could wave it around as ammunition over me because look, this guy dared to talk shit about me, he's as bad as I said! (The shit amounted to, "This is a crappy way to treat someone and I'm frustrated about it." Oh, no. I am just unforgivable, obviously.)

Like, guys, this is a goddamn problem and it is huge. This is some peaked-in-high-school, adult-mean-girls, pants-on-head-stupid bullshit. It's not normal behavior, but it is deeply normalized behavior, and you can't even call it out because it's everywhere from the top down and that's how you get completely ostracized by very loud people with follower counts in the thousands and eyes and ears everywhere. I flatly refuse to share a word or even a community with it. Even if I could justify using the otherkin label—and I probably could, if I really wanted to!—I wouldn't, because then I have to be under the tent with all that, and...no. I can't stomach it. My blood pressure and stomach issues are already medicated and do not need the extra stress. I am so over it. There is more beef than a goddamn slaughterhouse in the otherkin community and I will not have anything to do with it aside from having some friends who still use the label for themselves.

That's probably rent-lowering shots I'm firing and I know it. Most people, if they said anything at all, would have thrown this whole thing under a read more at minimum but I'm too tired of it to shut up any longer and if that loses a few followers, okay, cool. I don't want to hang around people who aren't clear-eyed enough to see the issues going on. If you stick the word 'otherkin' on a thing and people who behave that way show up and expect everyone to tolerate them, that's not okay and nobody should tolerate it. And yet. That's just how a lot of otherkin carry on. I've been upset about it for years and it just. Keeps. Happening. I am sufficiently pissed at this point that you could call me antikin and I'd agree with you purely on the rotten goddamn social issues going on.

All that being said, I am leaving Mythcord in the next several days once some backend stuff gets wrapped up, but I am still here like black mold in the walls whether anybody likes it or not, and I'm still going to be right on this blog with my little essays and thoughts. I would like to think that this post might change some things, but I don't expect it, because I don't have much reach and I'm just one guy getting mad on the internet. It's whatever. I got it off my chest and I'm moving on from the whole thing. Back to your regularly unscheduled little essays and thoughts and whatever the hell else.

(And probably changing my blog name soon because I really want something that reflects my current identity better than the current one does.)