hey! for todays protest, i made this little zine about palestine (holding just simple and basic information).
you can download the zine here, fold it yourself, and distribute it around.
no credit is needed. feel free to leave it around bars, protests, or wherever. simply print it (borderless) and fold it. here is a tutorial on how to do it.
dont stay silent. there is a genocide of horrendous, atrocious proportions going on. also if you are a zionist here to argue with me, i dont plan to entertain you at all, not on my art blog. fuck off, you'll be swiftly blocked. i see enough of you clowns on my main and i have no energy for you. you can skip the death threats too bc i dont give a shit.
(i'm off to get ready for a surgery now, i just wanted to post it before this. if you need anything, i might take a bit to reply)
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Okay. But when Bruce discovers Talia knew Jason was alive? That she knew his child was the man under the red hood. His boy.
Oh.
Jason’s met and memorized every facet of Bruce Wayne. He knows Bruce by the way his eyes melt when he looks at him, to the hard lines of his cowl. He knows where Bruce starts and Batman ends.
When Bruce rips off his cowl to give her the deepest glare Jason’s ever seen, he’s reminded there’s no difference. Fear hits his stomach when he swallows,
“Hey, old man, don’t fucking blame HER. She has NO obligation to you—“
Bruce’s eyes are unblinking, wide, jumping from her frozen form to him. And Jason’s suddenly 10 again, running from hungry stray dogs cornering him in a place with no exit.
Bruce’s voice is shadow and whisper, “Quiet.”
“…Okay.”
“Damian,” he rasps, pointing at the small figure with dark hair and green eyes, who looks at neither of them. He looks at Talia. Jason thinks it’s fair. He’s never seen her scared, either. “Car. Cave. Stay. “
There’s something incredibly bitter in Jason when he just does. Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t rebel. He wants to, with every fiber and matter and crumb in his body. And his body says no.
He grabs Damian like he’s an angry cat, not the small assassin he knew since he was born. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t want to, he realizes.
“Did you know?” Bruce asks, such a deadly calm to him, too calm for the winter in his eyes. Talia would’ve preferred a blade to the neck.
She can’t meet his eye. Almost like if she doesn’t face his hatred, his disapproval, his disappointment, it doesn’t count. “I did. “
“…Whatever you do,” she’d take it as pity if he didn’t sound repulsed , “you’re still his daughter.”
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You have 90 minutes to complete. (original poem: r.a.)
In participation of the MCYT Recursive Exchange 2024 hosted by @mcytrecursive!
Inspired by know that all my love will be your breath (i will save you when your lights go out)
[text under cut]
1. Have you ever been in love?
(Please circle your answer.)
a. It's me and him
b. Our hearts beat in sync
c. Our lives intertwined
2. Do you understand what you’ve done?
(Please circle your answer.)
a. I couldn't do anything
b. I lost my balance
c. I doomed us both
3. It's been god knows how long since you felt phantom hands on your neck and there is no one in sight. If you were soul-bound to him and both of you died at the same time then why are you still waiting in the void?
Please answer clearly, in full sentences.
(Not a correct answer:I just wanted to see him one more time).
4. Define two (2):
Fate | The feeling of his forehead against yours
Curse | The moment you realise he isn't linked to you anymore
5. True or False:
i. It was your fault.
ii. You wish you had met him under different circumstances.
iii. You can’t regret a single moment that you had him.
iv. You would do it all over again if you could.
v. It ended long before either of you said anything.
thumbnails:
sketch cover thing for imgur link:
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