The Men And Boys Are Innocent Too.

the men and boys are innocent too.

we cry "the innocent women and children" to appeal to the masses, to try and force their sympathy, but the men and boys are innocent too.

I have seen sons crying out for their mothers, their fathers, their siblings. I have seen them break down at the loss of their families. I have seen them cling to their dead and grieve.

I have seen fathers cradle their dead children, seen them kiss their faces and hold their little hands. I have seen them faint with grief when asked to identify the dead. I have seen them carry their sons and daughters. I have seen them fasting to provide what little they can for their families.

I have seen men and boys digging through the rubble with just their bare hands, I have seen them comforting strangers, playing with children, rocking them, hushing them, even if the face of such imminent danger. I have seen them cry, seen them grieve, seen them break down into each other's arms, seen them be selfless, beyond selfless, becoming something I don't have a word for.

I have seen the men who are doctors refuse to leave their patients, even when they have no medicine or supplies to give them, even when they're threatened with bombings. I have seen fathers who have lost all their children pick orphans up into their arms and proclaim them their child so they are not alone. I have seen men and boys digging pets out of the rubble.

the men are innocent too. the men and boys are being hurt and killed too. the men and boys are grieving too. the men and boys are scared too. the men and boys are fighting to save their people too. the men and boys deserve to be fought for too.

Trick or treat! 🎃

A TREAT FOR YOU❗This piece that I wasn't going to post here but will now in your honour 🤌

Some background on this piece (tw for abuse):

When Cynthia's father didn't want to deal with Cynthia as a child, he would give them antihistamines so that they were half awake, but more importantly, they were quiet. Cynthia was a means to control his wife, and once she died, he didn't care anymore.

The stress made Cynthia have sleep paralysis and nightmares so bad that their entire quality of life declined. Dreams about being buried alive or falling down a well were the ones they had most frequently. A lot of their childhood, they couldn't tell what was real or not.

Eventually, with lots of therapy, they managed to become a functional adult. The main story revolves around them and their small group of friends traveling up to rural Canada to collect the belongings of Cynthia's recently deceased uncle. Returning to the place of their mother's death and realizing that they were lured there by the townsfolk for less than pure intentions, Cynthia begins to lose their grip on reality.

(One day I plan to make a comic about this story but not until I finish all of the things I'm currently working on lol)

ANYWAY HAPPY HALLOWEEN

Hey pay attention to me, unicorn. You scared someone sees us? I’m just your personal demonic maid.

Ais locking Willow into in his big frog thighs

It’s the prettiest boy’s day!

tulsi! yeehaw

(unblurred/unfiltered bg under the cut bc I spent too much time on it and then covered it up lmao)

right pic is the original bg for tulsi's shop!

| The Arcana | - Portia x Astor

“I just think… you’re neat!”