America: Scotland! Hey Dude, I Just Wanted To Get Your Permission For Me To Marry England?

Death

When Russia mentions death there is an imperceptible flinch in the room. He does it causally. Why wouldn’t he? He has died so many times.

           America’s hand still flutters up, aimlessly, as though to touch an old scar, but there are too many. He is still young, and he moves unconsciously. His is the age of bullets, explosions, and distant violence. He knows well the pain of a gunshot. That doesn’t mean anything anymore. He knows what it is to become nothing at the touch of a button; the feeling of fire before the force of scientific progress strips flesh from bone. You still come back from nothing, when you’re not human. He always came back.

           England knows these things. He knows fire more intimately. After what feels like an eternity it stops hurting. The powerful belief of his people drove him back. You can come back from ash. He never felt like a phoenix.

           France knows defeat when bringing blade against blade. The piercing is symbolic; his heart beating itself to shreds as though he could really die when he never does. He falls to his knees, not animated by blood or a heartbeat. You recover from mortal wounds. He still fights as though he can die because others can.

           Spain, God knows, has drowned more times than he can remember. It burns when the water fills his lungs. Salt water is worse. You can still get back to shore, even if it takes hours. He doesn’t need to breath.

           Germany, Italy, and Japan died in that grand war. They did not make their pact to lose. They could have died and never come back, the stakes they gambled. The stroke of a pen can cease the driving force that brings you back and back and back… They knew death dearly enough to dare to risk their lives.

           China is older than all of them. He knows death in nearly every form. He almost knows rebirth. He could laugh at most of the stories the others tell; that though does not cross his mind. They may all argue but there is one thing they understand.

           Russia has mentioned death. There was an imperceptible flinch in the room. All of them thought of it, briefly, in flashes and moments without words, but none dwell. Why would they? They have all died so many times.  

God this is so beautiful yet awful and tragic. Fucking kills me.

memories are bullets

Tomo’s Theory of Happiness

There will always be those who dare to brave the lightning’s glow

as I watched the oral delivery this crossed my mind. I didn’t have this exact words but i did think how strange in a good way it is that South Africans donned the attire of empire and it’s rules and came with knowledge, professionalism, expertise, integrity and justice, and used the structures of global western order and slam dunked it (for me, while the verdict will tell us the health of international humanitarian law, the victory was in the compelling case SA showed). A black man in dreads, a brown woman with her brown girl nose, proud and clear and here to fuck shit up. And our officials donning keffiyehs and rainbow nation scarves. A side of the court of all races and colours while on the other side… the symbolism of all of it will be talked about for generations . *chef’s kiss*

c!tommy died with his discs locked in his enderchest. 

no one will ever be able to take them away from him again. the discs that secured l’manberg’s independence, the discs that helped him through exile, the discs that he and c!tubbo almost died for; the discs he played on the bench with his friends. the first cat and the first mellohi on the server will forever be his.

Do you think soldiers of L'manburg still remember Tommy as this war hero and meet at a bar and go:

"Yo I saw the general and I heard he came back to life and also killed that Green Guy two times and is good friends with the riches people of the server and the Angel of Death"

"I saw him being under the protection of a machine the warden created"

"Holy shit I heard he has a pet spider!"

"A big one?"

"MASSIVE DUDE!"

Tommy "i am so traumatised my therapist has trauma" innit but all the Slodiers only see their General that won L'manburg its freedom and are in awe of everything he does

"I heard he committed to peace now. Refusing to use the most dangerous weapons and only using low quality ones"

"And he STILL kills mobs easily!"

"I heard he is childhood friends with a powerful demon..."

"Isn't the murderous fairy of the woods also fond of him?"

"Damn."

"I saw the Angel of Death promising his aid to him..."

"You mean the guy that blew our nation up?" "Yeah"

"Mf our General is a madman! (Affectionately)"

They end up exchanging stories about how kind and badass Tommy is

Soldier 1: "He offered me some carrots when I passed by"

Soldier 2: "I heard he isn't that well of rn tho..."

Solider 1, starts crying: "He shared despite not having much himself??!!"

things sherlock holmes has canonically done:

scrapbooked the hell out of his newspapers

put on a hat that was too big for him 

giggled

cried because lestrade was nice to him

got all sappy and romantic by smelling a rose

let a puppy lead him on adventures

“impish mood”

lit his pipe with an ember from the fireplace because he thought it looked cool

feel free to add to this

PSMP is the exact reason I love this community and absolutely fucking despise it

ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

I don't know who they are [the people buried]. Every time I pass by here, I stop and say hello. We found them weeks ago lying and covered in their own blood in the middle of the road, two young men in the flower of their youth seemed as if they are sleeping. We buried them in the eastern region of Al Saraya.

I am sorry to all the unidentified martyrs. I am sorry to every martyr we did not bury till now. I am sorry to all the martyrs we couldn't register the names of or save their pictures. I am sorry to every martyr who offered his soul for the land [Gaza/Palestine] and wasn't given his own grave to rest in. I am sorry to my friend Refaat @/itranslate123 who has been under the rubble for 40 days and still is. I am sorry once to the martyrs we know, and a thousand times for those we don't.

END OF TRANSLATION

The idea of having a loved one killed and buried without my knowledge is terrifying. However, it is the reality of many Palestinians who bury unidentified martyrs, and the Palestinians who cannot find their family members and do not know whether they're still alive or not. We must keep talking about Palestine, and we must keep exposing the crimes of the Israeli occupation!