Cartoon Villians

cartoon villians 😜

Yesterday marked the 100th day of genocide. Please, do not get used to this. Our people, killed, bombed, kidnapped, stripped, executed and starved is not normal. Our kids in pieces, their body parts collected in bags is not normal.

Israel has killed 23,700 human. More than 10,300 child. We'd need 177 school bus to carry the Palestinian children killed by Israel in gaza. 10,022 fatherless child. 8,352 motherless child. The wounded have their wounds rot and die waiting in front of the crossing. Maggots seen inside alive people's wounds. 5,500 pregnant woman will give birth in the upcoming weeks. 100 Days of Genocide. 100 Days of the world watching silently.

THIS IS SO GOOD THANK YOU 🫶🫶🫶

for once, i'm here with something a little different!

my gift for @cowboyjeremiah for the @mcyt-valentines exchange is this playlist :D

apologies for the delay with your gift! i had a fic planned (and am including what i have written here, while planning to get it out and properly gifted to you as soon as possible) but got hit with pain & life, so i'll do my best to explain the major concepts!

Warm candlelight all around soaks the room in its gentle glow, even as the spring sun begins to set outside. Everything is covered in the swirl of soft pink and white, cherry petals collecting in every crevice and making hiding places out of spots nobody thinks to look. And just outside the window stands someone who Branzy hasn't seen in months. Clown is back, after so long away, off in the Fray, off fighting and returning only blood soaked and staining the ground in crimson and gold. None his own, no blood daring to pour from the cracks on his mask. He's still as pristine as the day he left, perfect in a way that Branzy's sure should worry him, the truth of welcoming in this lost dog baring its teeth. An ugly, perfect grin, all full of teeth, sharp and ready to snap. Yet, there's no growl, no snarl, silence speaks of something trained, someone fine tuned and sharpened to a point. Dangerous, in a way that only proves that he's alive, that they're both alive, alive as can be. It comes easily, comes almost naturally, to welcome in the danger because really, is that not all he knows? Or, rather, all he'd like to know? Stain the pristine white and perfect purples with dark crimson, sully the perfection that he's always known with the imperfection of the outside world. Welcome home a bloody soldier, and happily tend to his wounds, because what is he if not trapped here with the purpose to serve? [...]

so, welcome to the seraphim au. where branzy is a god (a seraph) and clown is... human? (not really, he isn't. he's a machine, something made to replace seraphs in battle)

a lot of the thought going on here is "what would happen if you flipped the power of their dynamic, while keeping them relatively similar?"

an example of a seraph, though this isn't... how branzy looks? he strays far more human, purely because of how attached he is to clown.

the playlist's main focus is the general vibe of the world, especially the choices of songs (but especially with the artists, you'll notice a few which focus on religious topics, and especially have hymn-like qualities.) and especially its focusing on the concept of clown and branzy's dynamic.

but, overall, the changing of seasons and the ruining of imagery which is traditionally seen as something soft is the main focus. a god often viewed as benevolent is drawn toward the violence and blood of the world, finding solace in clown's stories. it's a parallel to clown trapping branzy in the end, even if it's vague about it!

there's also. this piece?

Finally sitting down to rest and just sitting in silence with Branzy. They haven't seen each other in a long while, yet they settle in regardless, Branzy handing Clown a letter, carefully penned and addressed to him, looking away when Clown looks at him for clarification Branzy is embarrassed, having handed Clown such a bold show of heart, a love letter. Something that's so open and real to him, it's no different from an xray, of a photo of his ribcage, handing him his beating, bleeding heart. It's love, it's truth, it's him.

i think we need more victorian era shows of love in the world, give somebody an xray

😓

reblog if you

miss this guy

ate concrete when you were 6

Don't Stop Talking About It. Don't Look Away. They're Still Here. They will be Free.