A Message Of Peace

piggies

Biggest case of Missed potential in MHA character wise - Midoriya Izuku

Seriously. Hori's refusal to have him reflect on any recent events in the manga (basically anything post War Arc), His quirkless past (even though everything that happened with Aoyama should have brought that up and made him think things), and refusal to think of BKG beyond blind childish admiration make me want to shake him hard! Even though I like him as a character.

And his 'Dark Deku' arc went NOWHERE! Dont even get me started on how 1A brought him back - hated it! How is BKG leading his friends to gang up on him (like back at Aldera) meant to have solved anything HORI?!

All of this. Izuku deserved better 😞

So a free tool called GLAZE has been developed that allows artists to cloak their artwork so it can't be mimicked by AI art tools.

AI art bros are big mad about it.

I’ve been playing Dragon Age: Inquisition again lately, and I was pondering a new fic idea (and despairing because Josephine is so competent that she renders my central conflict moot the moment she appears on the scene) when the following popped into my head a refused to leave. I’m almost certain someone has done this before, but on the off chance they haven’t -

(To the tune of “What is This Feeling?” from Wicked)

DORIAN: Dearest Darlingest Felix and Maevaris

BULL: Fellow Ben-Hassrath Agents

BOTH: There’s been some confusion, over rooming here at Skyhold

BULL: But of course, I’ll do my duty

DORIAN: But of course, I’ll rise above it

BOTH: For I know that’s how you’d want me to respond. Yes, there’s been some confusion for you see, my room-mate is…

DORIAN: Unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe…

BULL: A Vint.

(The rest of the song pretty much continues as originally written)

Reclaim your birthright, gentlemen

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It's 2am I haven't slept and I suck at writing. Welp. Have fun!! XD

I felt the cold metal pen in my hand as I tapped it against the wooden table. Words. Words. Words. Words I could not put into writing. I wanted to tell the story. I wanted to share THEIR story. I leaned back on my chair and looked up at the barren ceiling. Closing my eyes I went back to that day.

The bus seat covers felt rough under my small hands as they brush over the cloth layer. The sounds of the engine and tires on gravel road mixed with the chatter of excited children. They had all been awaiting this day, and so did I.

It had been many many centuries since the magic that turned the dead into plants spread over all living things. All plants, aside from the regular vegetables and root crops, then became sacred. Cities were reduced to small villages since it was forbidden by law to cut down any plant. I came from one of the bigger villages, one who's law was all dead and dying would be taken into the forest and would be laid to rest there. Today was our day to go up to the sacred forest shrine and pay respects to our ancestors.

When we got off the bus the scent of dirt, bark and leaves filled my nose. I reveled in the satisfying crackle dried leaves made under my shoes as I walked upon them. Cool Autumn wind rustled the tree tops and made my long raven hair flow with it.

I turned to see my class gathering infront of our teacher and tour guide. They would go through the known forest paths and learn the history of different sections... but I had a different plan.

I stayed at the back of the class, waiting to spot a familiar route. It was narrow between the tress but it was clearly a beaten path. When the teacher was leading the students away I stayed and hid behind a large oak. I placed my hand on the trunk as respect to the dead bellow, by the size it might have been an old man. 'Damien' I noticed his name carved on the base of the trunk where it should be.

"Thank you Damien" I whispered.

I followed the narrow beaten path. I had been down this road many times before. I often snuck away from school and my grand parents to come here. I memorized all the names of the people who laid here to rest. I muttered greetings all along the way to two trees at the edge of this section.

There stood two mighty trees. An oak and Apple tree wrapped around each other like a spiral. I approached and cross sat infront of them. The names caved showed clear over base. 'Rose' on the Apple tree and 'Pine' on the oak. I chuckled in my mind as I do when I visit.

"Hello, mom. Dad." I smiled. The wind blew a little harder but it was still gentle. It was as if it was hugging me, welcoming me... and maybe it was. I stayed there for a good long while, telling my parents what had happened in the past months. I knew my class was still clueless that I was gone. How did I know?...I just felt like the forest was telling me so.

As I was about to leave I felt something new. A calling. A whisper? I turned my head and saw it. A cement pillar hidden amoung the trees. I never noticed it before...but...I was curious. I approached and soon I found myself in front of what seemed to be a burnt down building. The only remains of it were broken pillars, destroyed walls and charred cement pieces that littered the floor. The ruins were mostly covered in vines, weeds and other foliage.

In the building, or at least where the building used to be was a mini forest. Tall trees stood close together. Almost pressed against each other. I walked deeper into the woods. The trees were many different sizes, names carved into the bottom like they should be.... but then I saw something strange.

Tree saplings? Young oaks that looked like they will never grow taller. There were around 10 of them. It was strange. I knelt down beside the closest on and looked at the base. My eyes widened in shock... no names.

I touched the tree leaves. ---

It was hot. Fire. Screaming. Doctors. Nurses. Families. Seniors. Running.

I felt like I was there but not there. I could only stand and watch the chaos unfold. It was a hospital engulfed in flames. People were rushing to get out but many of the doors were burning or blocked. There were two people. Doctors. I had seen them only in pictures, it was my mother and father. They were running, not towards an exit, but further into the hospital. I followed them, I walked but somehow I was keeping pace with the frantic couple. They ran into a ward. 'Nursery' was written on a plac above the double doors. It was only a moment but my parents burst through the doors again, this time a bundle in their hands.

I followed again. My father was yelling something and pointed towards a hallway filled with thick black smoke. They stared into the abyss then turned to each other, both with determination in their eyes that blazed hotter than the fire. My mother placed a napkin over an opening in the bundle. When she did I couldn't breath I felt like I was being suffocated, my nose and mouth covered by something. My parents ran into the hall, they breathed heavy, they couldn't risk holding their breath when they were exhausted and running, they needed to get out. It felt like eternity. I felt like I was about to pass out but my parents found the only exit on covered in flames and threw themselves at the door, breaking it open. The moment they stepped out into the clean open air my mother took her hand away from the bundle in her arms and suddenly I could breath. I heaved for air. Looking up as saw mom and dad running away from the burning building, mom holding the bundle close. I followed them to a familiar spot. A clearing that seemed all to real. My parents sat on the grass, leaning on one another. They couldn't get up any more, they were fading. My father turned napped his arms around my mother from behind, pulling her close to his chest. My mom held the bundle more gently and slowly moved away the top of it. I gasped. Again I'd only seen it in pictures...It was me. Still a baby, maybe a few days old. A name tag was wrapped around my wrist as I slept soundly even through the turmoil. I watched as my parents fell asleep with me in the their arms. The smoke poisoning took them. It would be mere minutes later when people arrived to put out the fire but it was too late. Mom and dad were gone, I was left crying in my mother's arms. The people took me away.---

I shot up but lost my balance and fell back down. In my panic I scooted away from the sprouts. Memories. Memories. I was born here.... I couldn't control the tears that streamed down my face. These were his nursery mates. Children only hours old... dead. Burned. Taken away before they even had a name. The knelt before them and burried my face in my hands as I wailed for them.

I opened my eyes, still leaning back. Still staring at the barren ceiling. I slowly raised my right hands and placed it gentle on my left shoulder. It felt like I could feel the warmth of a hand is my teacher found me and took me away from the ruins.

I sat back up and leaned over my desk. Pen met paper as I wrote down what I remembered. I published the short story and when I passed that same ruin was given a name. Homage to the lost.

"The bed of angels"

-----

Lord help my shit writing lmao. Now to try and sleep.

Plants sprout above corpses. The bigger the body the bigger the foliage. Adult humans can become large oaks and a butterfly could become a rose. Forests are cemeteries for the dead to sleep, and every tree has the names of the past carved into the base for the future to remember. While out on a school trip to the remote mountains you sneak out only to find a forest down a prohibited path… a forest of small oaks with no names…

I redid this older comic I made for my storytelling class based on this post. Have some cute wlw love in your day.

It’s hard, if I had more free time I could make it so pretty, this is what I could throw together for the assignment.

Help support a queer artist: Ko fi, Redbubble, Teepublic

kaz buying a ring to propose to inej but for kicks and giggles she steals it to propose to him but then he steals it back and it just becomes a game of who can steal the engagement ring long enough to actually propose