#abladeofgrass

PLEASE, IM ON MY HANDS AND KNEES (only if you want to/feel like doing it, of course!)

Headcanon A:  realistic

After S&S, Kravitz is a bit worried how Lup’s existence is going to effect their relationship.  And then he hates himself for worrying, because that’s Taako’s sister.  He heard the story.  He knows how much she means to him.  And judging by the time the uumbra staff tried to kill him, she’s not really a big fan of him.  But either way, Taako picks up on this worry and arranges for Kravitz to meet Lup, with Taako himself as a buffer, of course.  Lup comes over for dinner, and things are icy at first.  She starts to give Kravitz a shovel talk, despite Taako shaking his head “no” in warning.  Before Taako can even realize, some sort of switch flips, and suddenly Lup and Kravitz are neck deep in a heated discussion about classical composers and advanced necromancy theory.  Nobody is really sure whether or not they are fighting until Lup abruptly proclaims her love for him.  Kravitz tells her that isn’t going to save her if she keeps doing necromantic crimes.  Taako falls asleep, wondering how he ended up being the third wheel here.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

Kravitz has a pet raven.  Kravitz also likes to turn into a raven sometimes, when he’s tired of being a person.  Taako can Absolutely Not tell the two of them apart.

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Kravitz isn’t used to being human.  Rather, he isn’t used to operating on a human time scale.  Sometimes he’ll pop into the astral plane, or go out for a walk, and come back to find that it’s hours or even days later.  And now, hours and days have to mean something to him.  One day, early enough that Barry and Lup hadn’t finished their reaper training yet, he gets held up at work a little bit.  He comes home to find Taako wrapped in a blanket on the couch, eyes red from crying and opened wide in shock.  Kravitz runs over to him, worried.

“Taako, what happened?” he asks, dropping to a knee in front of the couch.  Taako pulls away, and Kravitz freezes.

“How long do you think you’ve been gone?” Taako asks, masking any emotion in his voice.

“I know I got held up a little bit,” Kravitz admits, “but that was just a couple hours!”  Taako shakes his head, heavy disappointment in his eyes.

“I haven’t heard a thing from you for two weeks, Krav,” Taako says, his voice too tired to be angry.  Kravitz hates the look that he sees in Taako’s eyes more than anything.  It’s fear.  Fear of him.  Fear that he’s going to leave again.  It is then that Kravitz realizes he’s gonna have to try a lot harder at this “being human” thing.  He doesn’t want to hurt Taako like this ever again.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

Kravitz’s dumb work accent is actually his real voice.  He was just nervous in front of Hot Boy (Taako) and lied and said it was a fake work accent because he was self-conscious.  He has sworn the raven queen to secrecy, and vows to take this secret to his (nonexistent) grave

Me:

Me: well I guess I have no choice but to watch this show,

my plan is WORKINGGGGGG

AAAAH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

I gotta be honest though, I tagged it as webtoon for exposure but I’m not ready to make it into an actual long running webcomic with constant updates just yet ;; HOWEVER I do still have a lot of story and other characters to get out of my system so YES I will be posting more art and comics about them whenever I have time!!

each poem lands like a small revelation:

darwish captures loss and longing so vividly you almost feel the weight of every word.

ashraf fayadh reminds you that writing can be its own kind of resistance.

naomi shihab nye blends sorrow and hope in a way that feels like home and exile all at once.

i love how the book moves between voices you’ve heard before and new ones like fatena al ghorra and mustafa abu sneineh. they write about olive trees and checkpoints, kitchens and crowded cities—everything feels immediate and real.

reading this feels like standing in a field where each poem is a blade of grass insisting on growing through the cracks. it’s raw and beautiful and sometimes heartbreaking, but always necessary.