#wouldn't kill anyone

[sunshinetomioka]

I've gotta be honest it's getting harder and harder to follow big lore even on qsmp as someone who lives in Europe 🥲

Most event for my timezone are supposed to start at 1am/midnight but often start later due to some problems (or Quackity being late /lh)

Like it's holiday for a lot of student in France so it's "fine" but lot of people also work, in September people will go back to school. Including me ! I'll go back to university for my last year !! And rn I unexpectedly found s job and I have to wake up early.

But even without all that you don't realise how bad french sleep schedule can be ! Most people I know who watch QSMP go to sleep at 4am almost everyday !

I do know some people have different inner sleep schedule, I am one of them I usually fall asleep at 1am but ugh.... It's awefull that I'll probably not see the elections results because it'll be so late and I'll have to wake up the next day ;;;;;

[themthistles]

whenever i see another tiktok girlie talking about how she wishes to have been a fangirl in 2010s i feel like a seasoned veteran overhearing a foolish youngin boasting about wanting to go to war for glory and adventure. you naive little idiot. you know nothing. you understand nothing. you weren't there in the trenches. i have seen things, terrible things. i cannot plug in my phone charger at night without being plagued by the visions of Him

[radiance1]

Alfred Pennyworth has in fact, perhaps, in the slightest of chances.

Picked up his Master's habit of collecting children as if they were on sale.

He was spending his time on one of those rare vacations he decided to take, it was nice, to relax with only the vague overhanging worry of something going wrong back at the manor that he's gotten very good at ignoring.

Only to come across a child bleeding out in an alley, heavily injured.

He would not be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to help them however he could.

Such is how he acquired a child he later found to be a meta who whished to learn the ways of a butler.

---

Danny had escaped from a GIW compound, after having been handed over by his family a while after his reveal. He felt, completely and utterly betrayed, when it happened. His parents, while hurt, he was at least capable of actually seeing them do it, but never would he have thought Jazz would do so as well.

They did it so happily, that he wondered if letting him go really was the greatest thing to happen to this family.

He chained, muzzled, all the ways to bind him they pulled all the stops too, knowing how dangerous he was. He wouldn't have even done anything then, too stunned by his families apart willingness at handing him over to the government.

He hated them.

He hated them so much.

The GIW facility was a terrible, cold, unfeeling place. One where they drilled thoughts into his head again and again until he found himself unconsciously repeating them when his head felt empty, one where his body gained a new mark day by day and pushed through tests, he had no clue of even hoping to comprehend what they would gain out of it.

It was a cold, unfeeling place. Placed in a cell of white and nothing else, with low walls and chains binding his body in place until the time came for another experiment.

It was a room he grew used to. One he even held some kind of strange, twisted affection for.

It was a room that held a tiny piece of safety, of rest. It was a room that taught him to hate.

A deep, powerful, disgusting, twisting hatred that crawled from the depths of his cells, corrupting his blood and carving itself deep into his bones. Forcing it's out of his pores until it practically oozed from his flesh.

It drowned his mind, tainting each and every thought, every memory, every dream, every waking moment until he could feel nothing but hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

When he was taken out of that he could feel nothing, with the drugs swimming their way through his blood that snapped the thin string keeping him between a person and an emotionless puppet.

He thinks that's what the GIW thinks he is.

And when he was placed back in that room, he could only hate.

It was a cycle. Stuck between feeling either nothing or hatred.

He hated feeling nothing, it made him feel like he wasn't real. Like it snapped the thread that held him between what a real person was and a dream.

So, he allowed himself to drown deep into his hatred. Until the white walls of his far to small room seemed to fade, until whatever sound he could have heard became nothing but dull noise.

Until the passage of time seemed to become just a blink.

He didn't know what day it was, when he saw it. Saw them. He didn't know the time, the date, the day, the hours. He knew nothing.

But he could recognize his family. Recognize one of the objects of his intense hatred that he forced his thoughts too. The people who willingly gave him up just like that and one of the causes for his current life.

He didn't know why they showed him them, he felt it some sick, utterly cruel joke. A joke he didn't know the punchline for, a joke the universe sent his way to make his life all the more miserable.

There were multiple of them. Multiple clones of his family. Som within test tubes, some being pulled out from the tubes, some walking around in lab coats. A waste of talent, they called it in his dad's case, a waste of intelligence in his mother's, and a waste of intellect in his sister's case.

His original family was already dead, he was told. Replaced by clones, clones that took over the legal decision to change his guardianship. Clones walking around twisting and desecrating his family.

'At least it was painless.' One of the clones said, talking with his mother's face. 'Far more than they deserved for having keeping a thing like him' spoken by his father's imposter.

The drugs pumping through his system to keep him calm, to keep him feeling nothing was suddenly pierced through by an intense feeling of horror, hate and self-loathing.

He should've known it wasn't his family. He should've done more! More to protect them! To keep them safe! The could've still been alive if he just knew.

In that moment, watching imposters speaking, walking, talking, breathing, with his families faces. He exploded. Exploded with a power fueled by nothing but his intense hatred for every. Single. Living being in this goddamn facility.

He killed whoever stood in his way. Managing to get his hands on relatively newly designed weapon, an ectoplasmic scythe (that also apparently could revert into an everyday item). Which he used to rip and tear throughout the entirety of the facility. He got injured, of course, he couldn't dodge everything, but he didn't care.

A body stuck between life and death, incapable of fully going one way or the other no matter what happened. Gifted supernatural powers fueled by wrath and twisting hatred and a weapon made by man yet in the range of the supernatural.

They didn't stand a change. He killed them all. No matter who it was, man, woman, clone. He didn't, couldn't care. He could only kill, only maim, only hurt.

And that's what he did.

It was then, when the facility was blanketed with silence tainted by despair, death and hysteria. When previously white walls were covered by blood, and the halls turned into rivers of blood and corpses. That he broke down, the overwhelming hatred he felt replaced by relief then sadness then self-loathing.

His family didn't give him up! But they were killed. Kill because of him. He couldn't stand being in this place, anymore. His body felt as if it were moving on unseen strings as it walked through the halls, the scythe shrinking back what it was when out of combat, his mind too occupied by thoughts and feelings.

It walked through a portal, one to the ghost zone, and then promptly into another portal and spat him out into an alleyway. Which he then promptly collapsed and curled into a ball, curing the shrunken scythe in his palm and he was out like a light.

A few days after he woke up, he found himself growing attached to the human that found him in that alleyway. An old man, maybe, but a nice one. He didn't want to meet anyone, besides that man, so he turned invisible when anyone else come into contact with him.

Alfred Pennyworth.

It was a name he clung onto mentally and a man he clung onto physically as well. He wanted to be like that man, someone so nice and caring, someone who didn't mind that he turned invisible at the sing of another person, who let him cling onto him both invisible and not whenever he wanted to.

He did panic when he heard Alred saying his vacation was over, and such that he had to leave. He didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't know what he would do if he was left alone again.

Until Afred said we were going home.

We. As in, him plus another. Alfred plus Danny.

Home.

Heat blossomed in his chest, seeming to replace the constant, low hum of hate sitting beneath him skin.

Home.

[mxtxfanatic]

One day this fandom will have a reckoning on how it likes to blame Jin Xixuan's death on Wei Wuxian—whether by maliciousness or a "loss of control"—while ignoring the fact that Jin Zixuan died because he lunged at Wei Wuxian with a drawn sword because he was angry that Wei Wuxian told him that he doesn't trust him after he refused to tell Wei Wuxian whether or not he was a part of the ambush his cousin set up after Wei Wuxian told him to keep his distance from him after he told Wei Wuxian to stop defending himself against an ambush that he showed up to and was plainly told was put together to kill Wei Wuxian after he had already been bodily pushing Wei Wuxian around to protect his cousin. But all of that is supposed to be forgiven and forgotten because the reason he wanted Wei Wuxian to ignore all logic and put his life in danger was for Jiang Yanli's temporary happiness? Lol. Lmao even.

[adiradirim]

Sephardic Jews from Thessaloniki in their traditional costumes, in the city’s old cemetery, before the war // a contemporary photo that shows where the destroyed cemetery once was, which is now Greece's largest university, built partially on top of and with land and materials (particularly tombstones) stolen from the razed site.

Thessaloniki or Salonika, once referred to as “the Jerusalem of the Balkans” due to its Ladino-speaking Jewish majority, saw roughly 96% of its Jewish population murdered during the Holocaust. This mass destruction extended to the city's Jewish cemetery, which had been the country's largest, established in the 15th century and housing hundreds of thousands of Jewish graves until its razing by city authorities who had long desired to repurpose the land and resented the inconvenience of Jewish presence. Despite its large-scale destruction during German occupation in 1942, which was initiated and carried out primarily by Thessaloniki authorities with Nazi consent and arrangement, some parts of the cemetery survived intact as late as 1947. Many tombstones were subsequently appropriated and used by city authorities and the Greek Orthodox Church. After the war, people were still carrying away Jewish gravestones each day and regularly looting the cemetery in search of valuables. The city's officials, led by their mayor, completed the cemetery's destruction and sold the tombstones to contractors for use as building materials in various projects; as such many were and are still found in various walls, roads, structures, and churches around the city. A 1992 commemorative book pictures Greek schoolgirls playing Hamlet with skulls and other bones they found in the cemetery.

“[T]he ‘rape’ of the cemetery escalated, marble flooded the market, and its price plummeted. Jewish tombstones were stacked up in mason’s yards and, with the permission of the director of antiquities of Macedonia and overseen by the metropolitan bishop and the municipality, used to pave roads, line latrines, and extend the sea walls; to construct pathways, patios, and walls in private and public spaces though out the city, in suburbs such as Panorama and Ampelokipi, and more than sixty kilometers away in beach towns in Halkidiki, where they decorated playgrounds, bars, and restaurants in hotels; to build a swimming pool – with Hebrew-letter inscription visible; to repair the St. Demetrius Church and other buildings...” Devin Naar, Jewish Salonica: Between the Ottoman Empire and Modern Greece

Most of the efforts to return found tombstones throughout the city are led by Jews, particularly Jacky Benmayor, the curator of the Jewish Museum and last Ladino speaker in Greece, who has personally recovered hundreds of tombstones including his own family's. Surviving Greek Jews never received compensation for the confiscation of the land under the destroyed cemetery, upon which now partially rests Greece's largest university, Aristotle University, which also used Jewish gravestones as building material for its long-coveted expansion finally made possible by the dispossession and annihilation of the city's Jews. In 2014, 72 years after the cemetery's destruction and appropriation, a small memorial was established on campus grounds to acknowledge the Jewish cemetery the school is built on and with; the ceremony just 10 years ago involved the first-ever acknowledgement of the atrocities and apology from a Thessaloniki mayor. The memorial has been vandalised multiple times since its establishment.

[snivyartjpeg]

character dynamic thing ive noticed at work

[torchstelechos]

i love the ISAT aus where everyone else is looping but the loops are still dependent on Siffrin, so if something fucked up happens to Siffrin the whole ass party loops backwards. How long do you think it takes for them to realize it's Siffrin dependant and not just "if one of us dies or we reach the end we loop?" I bet it takes at least an act or 2, not because theyre dumb or anything but because Siffrin tends to worry over the others a LOT so it could appear more muddled then you would think

[nartml]

I can't stand ship wars but I physically can't restrain myself when I see my faves mentioned in the comments of a video that says smth like "when there's a disgusting ship that makes you sick to your stomach but for some reason it's popular"

Cuz they gotta be rage-bait, ain't no way you're saying bkdk or stsg or itafushi or killugon or sns or erasermic or any other perfectly normal ship instead of naming shit like gojo x yuuji?

Saw someone say "any ship that isn't canon" and I started laughing, some y'all really hate fun huh

[musical-chick-13]

This is the only thing I'm going to say about the election until it's over:

Anyone who did not vote for Harris or who attempted to dissuade people from voting for Harris, you are indirectly responsible for whatever shit Donald Trump does if he gets elected. That blood is primarily on his hands, yes. But it is also on yours. I hope you can live with that because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

imagine...

...that some things have changed (including some marigold ventures?) and Atlas May is like uh oh both lackadaisy & i are doomed, but if i set up my own death maybe only i'll be doomed and lackadaisy might have to shutter but perhaps more so on involved people's terms, such as mitzi being fine financially, but also if she thinks it's her fault that'll be good for maintaining my posthumous Image to her, perhaps she did some defrauding again? and i'll have mordecai, my trusted & effective gunman, be the one to fatally shoot me, & of course he doesn't want to, but it's Mere Work Ethic time, what's he gonna do besides argue at all maybe, ultimately refuse? (no) and he may hate it but he's not going to want to fully turn on mitzi or anything after because then what would have been the point

[mikansei]

i'm thinking about the guards outside aventurine's room in the reverie. stuck working a boring security job on THE planet of festivities, stationed outside a room in boring reality where someone's literally just sleeping all day. absolutely jackshit to do.

but there's no way aventurine would trust just any old grunt to guard him when he's that vulnerable; they had to have been hand-picked, personally vetted over years of working for him. it's no small feat to become someone aventurine trusts not to stab him in the back, even with the built-in insurance that if you shank your boss, he can't sign your paychecks anymore.

so they were familiar enough with him to know how he works, i.e., pulling off insane stunts and doing it solo. i have to think they're the kind of people who would've wanted to join him - not because they're sore about not getting to see the dream, but because they want to guard him IN the dream. you have a whole team of us, boss! put us to work!

and he keeps insisting no, he has to do it alone. it's too risky.

what could notorious gambler aventurine possibly find "too risky?" it's not that he thinks they'll slow him down or get in his way; it's not that he just prefers working alone or hates relying on others. that's what other people, in other departments, might think.

but these guys know: he does these missions solo because he doesn't want to risk their lives - that's the unacceptable risk to him.

(they also know not to ever say so aloud, because said notorious gambler has a reputation to maintain, and "worries about his employees' wellbeing" does not fit the image.)

[fansids]

You know, I see people say Odysseus sacrificed six men because if he hadn't they would've all died. I don't think that's true. Scylla had six heads, so six men were going to die regardless. Odysseus was just making sure he wouldn't be one of them.

[tricoufamily]

jacques's, nancy's, and mrs. villareal's parents circa 1960-something + baby jacques and nancy bc they were there in cas anyway why not

this feud's been going on for approximately this long

[triglycercule]

i need the murder time trio to drink eachother's blood after causing an injury. that's so romantic in both my eyes and theirs. i need them to bite eachother and claw at eachother and injure eachother and hurt. and then when they try to patch eachother up make the injury hurt more before finally wrapping it up with a bandaid and a kiss or a lingering glance or DARE I SAY a hug (because imo a hug is much more vulnerable than a kiss). peak of romantism i dare say

i need them to use violence against eachother as a way to keep them grounded or to just let out anger towards eachother i need dust to gouge out horror's eye and then give horror his own to replace it. i need horror to squeeze killer's soul until he can feel the pain but in exchange killer gets to use a knife inside his head i want killer and dust to fight everyday and soon their bones will be littered with scars of the other's attacks I NEED THEM TO HURT EACHOTHER!!!!!!

they share pain and release anger and frustration and all that stuff onto eachother but dw dw this is how they love. but they do genuinely dislike eachother (because no matter how much they love one another they STILL can never manage to get over their differences and that's what makes them PEAK) but they also care for the other two and in their fucked up minds this is a good relationship. not because its not toxic because it definitely fucking is but because everyone is satisfied

i love murder time trio poly

[kerakeriza]

damian would kill you for calling him illegitimate LMAO

HIS PARENTS WERE MARRIEDDDDDDDDDDDDD

[bumblingbabooshka]

B'Elanna, Neelix, Tuvok and Chakotay needed to star in an episode where they just talked about their different beliefs and approaches to spirituality/religion. Paired off and all together. I need to gain more insight. I need characterization and I need it to be messy.