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lairofdragonagelore · 2 years ago

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Murals in DAI: The Creation of the Veil

This mural is located in Shattered Library; Scholar’s Retreat.

I’m going to share my thinking process in the main body of the post, and a tidy summary of the interpretation of the mural will be done at the end of it.

[This post is part of the series “ Murals in DAI ”]

[Index page of Dragon Age Lore]

We have discussed some alternative interpretations of this mural and questioned the possibility of having been painted by someone else but Solas. All that discussion was done in Shattered Library; Broken Tower and Scholar’s Retreat. From now on, we are going to assume the conclusions we reached in that post, that is:

Solas painted this mural, since it seems to show a deep understanding of the nature of the Veil.

It was painted before the creation of the Veil, like a sketch, or a study, to keep the ideas clear.

Now, let’s proceed to see the parts.

The foreground and the background

Like all the murals that show the composition of the world with different spheres, I think they have “two or three panels” fused in one, using the foreground and the background as different panels. In this case, the four figures that belong to the foreground are the two small spheres and the two eluvians with the elves inside. The background is all the rest.

The only interaction between the background and the foreground seem to be a red line that “contains” the yellow/golden bubble area, which stops when reaching the eluvians instead of continuing behind of it.

The new structure of the World

In Murals in DAI: Basics, I already discussed a bit the nature of this structure seen in the sphere. But since these interpretations are not perfect, we can discuss them a bit more.

The central part of the Mural draws our vision to two central spheres: a red sphere with something that looks like a Sun, and around it, a black sphere with 14 peacock feathers.

The peacock feathers were already used in the presentation of DAO, during the cinematic where Duncan explained the sin of the Magister Sidereal. The peacock is a widely accepted symbol of pride in the Western, so it seems reasonable to link this space to Pride. In this sphere, we have seen that other murals [for example, “Siege of Adamant Fortress” from “The actions of the Inquisitor”] represent in this area six eyes, another symbol of Pride in the world of Thedas due to the demons of Pride. This Pride can also be related to Fen’Harel, since in the mural “Self-portrait” we can interpret the Wolf as an aspect of Solas that lurks the Fade, vigilant of the creatures he sealed time ago.

The mural “Creation of the Veil” was presented in Trespasser, as well as the codex “Veilfire Runes in the Deep Roads” which is given to us with the last mural of the DLC [”The death of a Titan”]. The codex seems to imply that after Mythal’s death, “green vines grew and enveloped a sphere of fire”. From all the Trespasser murals, this is the only one which shows a red sphere with an undeniable symbol of fire: a sun [once more, the sun as a symbol in Thedas reappears]. Another red sphere of fire appears in the mural “The Death of a Titan”, but we will talk about that when we try to interpret it. What we can say is that it seems reasonable to link this Red Sphere with that one present in the “The Death of a Titan”.

The codex speaks of green vines covering the Red Sphere, but in this mural we don’t have vines. This mural is about the Creation of the Veil, not about the Death of Mythal. However, I think that maybe this is the real reason behind the creation of the Veil. We know that Solas said at the end of the DLC [Somewhere[DLC Trespasser]: Elven Ruins] that the death of Mythal was the reason why he sealed the Evanuris, but the truth is given by the codex and the Dev’s notes in the room where we find the mural of “The Death of a Titan”: the real reason was what Solas [and some other elves] collapsed in the Deep Roads in order to hide and not to “wake it”. The certainty is given to us in the Dev’s notes that we find in the room with the mural “the Death of a Titan”:

So, this seems to be the real cause that Solas wanted to hide and seal, so I’m inclined to link this fire-like red sphere in the codex, represented in “The Creation of the Veil” as a Red Sphere with a sun, as the real thing that Solas had to isolate to avoid its spread. Sadly, we have no way to determine the details of this thing. Maybe some hints can be scratched in the mural “The Death of a Titan”.

As a colourful note, this red sphere and its iconography with fire/a sun seem to be related to the several versions of the unreliable Dalish Tale of Elgar’nan, who shoved a ball of fire/ the Sun into the earth; the closest we get to that image is Fen’Harel collapsing the Deep Roads to hide “a sphere of fire” that has been sealed with vines that only lasted some eons until it finally awoke with angry energy. The Creation of the Veil was the only way that Solas found to control this danger, and he represented it in a cryptic icon of a sun inside a red sphere.

This sphere is sealed inside another: one which is black and it is related to pride. This can be interpreted as:

1) Protected by pride demons, the most powerful ones among the demons so far we know in lore. 2) Protected by an aggressive aspect of Fen’Harel. We know Fen’Harel has six eyes, related to Pride demons. We also know that the true complex nature of Solas has not been disclosed yet completely. 3) These peacock feathers I spoke about in other posts represented the Magister Sidereal, but this interpretation would be anachronistic in this mural: the creation of the Veil goes back in time before the existence of Tevinter. 4) My best interpretation is that the red sphere is wrapped by those whose pride endangered the world: The Evanuris [which in terms of Roles are similar to the Magister Sidereal, who are also represented with these feathers].

So Solas condemned the Evanuris to banishment, sealing them in another Sphere: the black one. We also know that they must have been bound to a body to avoid their presence in the Fade and communicate with Dreamers [Hakkon dlc]. Due to the blackness of this sphere, this seems to be where the Golden City laid once, and where the Blight contaminated it. How the Blight contaminated it? I have some options, and I can’t really incline to any of them:

1) Solas may have sealed the Evanuris around the red fire sphere that ended up tainting them. If we associate the Red Sphere with Red Lyrium, this seems plausible. What feels wrong of this supposition is to think that the Evanuris were contaminated with Red Lyrium and not the Blight, which is a fact: Corypheus already stated that the Black City was filled with Darkness that he embraced [read more in Orlais: Shrine of Dumat]. So I’m not too inclined to this option. 2) Solas sealed the Evanuris that were already tainted by their own actions. This seems to be supported via the codex “Elven God Andruil“ where we can interpret that Andruil came back tainted from the Void. It’s not clear if this contamination was the Blight or Red Lyrium [more details in Ancient Elven codices, Temple of Mythal]. To make it reasonable with Corypheus’ testimony, it should have been the Blight. 3) If we include a bit of old lore, we also know from DAO via Zathrian, that some strong bound processes, specially those against the will of the creatures involved, can cause the spread of curses or disease.

Independently of the situation in which the seal was made, the Golden City turned black and got filled with the Blight.

Returning to the Mural: the border of the black sphere is a dotted line. I’m not so sure if I should link this with the mural of “The Death of a Titan”, where the titan is surrounded by a dotted line, making more obvious the idea of “red sphere with fire”. This would imply that the danger that the dead titan released was contained in a dotted lined sphere, where the Evanuris were sealed inside in order to be isolated and suffer eternally [as Solas claims this is how they were banished in the Elven Ruins].

The following space outside the Black Sphere is the grey-blue-teal one, filled with a symbol I have no idea about. This space is contained by the typical line that represents the Veil or barriers as strong as the Veil itself: the dashed line in black and gold, and then a black line. It always looks like a reinforced barrier. These barriers also appear in the small blue and gold spheres on the top corners. This bigger sphere can be interpreted as the Fade, but since the outside of this sphere is depicted with a black space filled with inverted triangles, I’m inclined to think that this grey-blue-teal sphere is a second mechanism of defence: a second barrier after the Veil responsible of keeping out any dreamer or spirit interested in exploring the Black City. This is the true Veil that the Magister Sidereal broke, not the one we did in DAI: walking physically along the Fade is something that some people like Flemeth can do without any consequence. The true transgression is to pass this second barrier.

The silver and golden bubbles

What are they?

The position of the bubbles, if we compare it with the information given by the last trailer, coincide one another:

It suggests that the bubbles may be related to the archdemons, whatever they were originally. We need to remember that how they were related to the Elvhen is something we have no information about. The fact that Tevinter speaks of the Archdemons as male entities with the exception of one, and we see winged dragons in their archdemon version [winged dragons are only female] says a lot to me: clearly the Tevinter interpretation of the Old Gods is something different to what these entities truly are, which seem to be related to the Elvhen as well. So, through the identification of the symbol of Urthemiel, I assume the bubbles are different Old Gods, that seem to work as seven guardians or feeders of the Veil [meaning, maybe they keep this stronger barrier up by giving their energy to it].

Why are there silver/grey and golden/yellow bubbles?

If we established that these bubbles can be translated as Old Gods, one can assume the silver/grey ones may represent the “killed archdemons”, but I think that’s a misunderstanding: we need to put things in a timeline. When Solas created the Veil, there were no Blights, and whatever function the Old Gods had at that moment in the elvhenan empire, had nothing to do with Blights, so the silver and golden bubbles have to mean another thing than a mere status of life. I played with several options:

1) The golden ones are on a background of gold colour, while the silver ones, are in “dark” spaces, but the blackness do not touch them. I was tempted to understand this as “four guardians are in the “darkness of the depths”, while the remaining three are “somewhere where there is light”. This is bullshit. So far we know, five archdemons have come from the Underground already. So this interpretation makes no sense.

2) The dotted line, that so far we suspect, may represent up and down, underground or sky. If we see it in the mural of “The Creation of the Veil”, it is placed in a way that makes five guardians to be underground, while two are, at least, on the surface. This interpretation may support the idea that we had five archdemons coming from underground already, but we don’t know what would happen with the next remaining two.

The problem with this interpretation comes when you identify each of these bubbles with a symbol of the incoming Archdemons:

It would mean that the beetle-head creature comes from the underground and the moon-head creature from the surface, making useless the previous hypothesis that the five last Archdemons came from the underground. So, once again, it’s impossible to identify the reason why some are grey and others are yellow.

I think it’s important to highlight, even though I have no idea how to interpret them, is that the space behind the silver bubbles has full reach all over the background, while the space of the golden ones, are contained in red cubicles [see the image below the title: The foreground and the background].

Maybe the colour of these bubbles are related to an intrinsic nature of the guardian that we cannot even fathom. By seeing the image, we can notice that the moon-head creature is related to a grey bubble, same as Urthemiel, while the beetle-head creature, to a golden one. The beetle-head creature can be related to Darkspawn in some way, since darkspawn in DAO used to decorate their territory adding these horns to local statues. The moon-head creature is related to the Deep Roads, since we found its statue in Trespasser, and it is also associated with a sea creature through the concept art of DA:D. Nothing of these bits of information help me to establish some pattern, so it is impossible for me to even speculate what’s the meaning of the colour of the bubbles.

Why are there rays and dark appendages in the bubbles?

Each of these bubbles have the same kind of “rays” that the red sphere in the middle of the mural. I think there must be a link with it, maybe like “gates” that allow us to reach/observe the centre before crossing the barrier? One would immediately think in eluvians, specially if we know that they have a fair chance to be made out of pure lyrium, and the red sphere may be a representation of corrupted [red] lyrium.

As a colourful note, the Chant of Light specifies that there are seven gates in the Black City [once more, we keep having this feeling that the Chantry was a big compilation of Elvhenan history co-opted and modified by humans, where Solas has been transformed in the legendary Maker.]

The bubbles also have a black, smaller bubble with an appendage linked to the silver/golden bubble. I have some potential hypothesis:

1) They are the representation of bound processes. We know the Archdemons that Tevinter Dreamers listened may have been other kind of creature than the dragons that arise as Archdemons. There are several reasons to suspect this:

a) The dragons that arise are all female despite the Tevinter’s Old Gods being all males with the exception of one [Razikale]. b) Design-wise, the Archdemons originally were meant to be Cthulhu-esque, demonic creatures. To link them into dragons would mean that they were forced to be bound to them. This hypothesis is valid for any other kind of spirit attached to these dragons. c) We also know that any other potential hypothesis of presenting the Archdemons as evanuris, forbidden ones, or forgotten ones would implicate in the explanation a bound procedure of these souls to the living creature=dragon in order to justify their “silence” in the Fade. This is the only way how the Fade creatures become silent to Dreamers [Hakkon dlc]

2) They are the representation of the resistance to the Blight. They look like cysts, which reminds me the war table quest Learn More about Dragons: the dragons are the creatures with more resistance to the Blight since they can generate cysts that “seal” the Blight. If the Guardians are in contact with the centre of the black and the red sphere, maybe they are enduring the corruption. Since we linked these guardians to Archdemons which we saw as dragons, it makes sense to represent this ability in the mural.

3) Both previous options.

I’m personally more inclined to support option 1, because we have a long list of proofs and examples suggesting that the Elvhanan empire had a deep knowledge about bound procedures; while I’m not so sure they had such an understanding of the Dragons, specially with a disease that didn’t exist until certain point in their history. The Blight was something too new and unknown to truly understand how much a dragon was resistant to it.

The golden and blue spheres

All this complicated structure of spheres is placed in the Fade, hence we see the black background with inverted golden triangles in the top left and top right sides of the mural [more details to understand this interpretation in “Murals in DAI: Basics” ]. So, we are still inside the Fade.

The two spheres we see at the sides of the mural may have multiple interpretations.

They are elvhen orbs, AKA foci, given the relationship they have with the undulating lines and bound processes explained in Murals in DAI: Basics and in the mural of “Removal of the Vallaslin”. The orb of golden colour may be related to Divinity [as gold does in general], the other of blue colour, likely related to Lyrium. This could mean that for this creation of the Veil two orbs were needed to emulate the power of divinity and lyrium combined. My main con against this interpretation is that these spheres have the same kind of barrier we see in the Veil [dashed lines], which makes little sense for orbs. However, it’s true that the Tevinter version of the orbs, called "Somnaborium" was translated as "Vessels of Dreams”, implying that they are containers of Fade magic and may require some barrier, but all this train of thoughts feels too weak for me.

Two pocket worlds. Since each of these spheres have the exact same border than the one used for the Veil, they give the idea of being “places contained by a Veil-like barrier”. We saw this already in the mural of “Removal of the Vallaslin”, which has this line at the top and the bottom of the scene, giving the idea that these pocket spaces can be created inside these barriers. This is also reinforced by the codex Raising the Sonallium. That one is golden and the other is blue may imply that for this creation of the Veil, two pocket worlds were needed: One with Lyrium [that I speculate may be the one associated with the red sphere, since I related it to the presence of Red Lyrium] and the other, with “Divinity”= the Evanuris [which may be represented by the Golden one, since gold tends to be deeply related to Evanuris/god concepts in Elvhenan culture so far their ruins taught us]. Another possibility for the golden sphere is simply “the Golden City”. In this interpretation, the undulating lines may imply that these pocket spaces are “bound”. I insist in this concept because it is very important: thanks to Hakkon we know that bound spirits can’t communicate with mages through the dreams, and we know thanks to The Archivist that the Evanuris have been silent for a long while after the creation of the Veil [so it seems very natural to assume that the Evanuris have been bound to some physical object/creature]. Maybe the Evanuris were bound to lyrium and isolated in the golden sphere. If this unwillingly bound caused some kind of extra corruption [as Zathrian showed us in DAO], or made the corruption of Andruil to spread to the rest and into the lyrium, it could potentially explain the origin of the Red Lyrium and/or the Blight inside the Golden City. This makes sense in a way that would explain why we find Whispers Written in Red Lyrium which talk about “finding the dreams again”. [The red lyrium has many voices, unlike the normal lyrium, which only has one song: the Song of the titans; more details on this in the post “Songs and things that sing and whisper in DA Lore”] . This means that the entities trapped inside the Red Lyrium were creatures of the Fade once, they were in the dreams once. Cole also says about the creation of the Veil when he reads Solas’ mind: “They sleep, masked in a mirror, hiding, hurting, and to wake them... (Gasps.) Where did it go?” Which seems to add a bit more to this interpretation.

The elves in the Eluvians

Finally, we reach to observe the elvhen. I suspect this is Solas, the "Maker” of the Veil. Or at least the one I called Elvhen2. I’m not too sure if we have to interpret this part of the mural with the spheres over him or the spheres belong to the “background panel”. I will incorporate them in case they give some context.

Both elves are inside a door or a mirror which shape reminds us of an Eluvian’s. It’s not clear if this means that he made himself the owner of the network of eluvians before creating the Veil to block and destroy the ones that had access to the Black City.

The interior border of the eluvians displays a black and a red wine lines, which colour matches the “red wine cubicle” around the golden bubbles. I’m not sure if we can understand this as if these spaces where the guardian/bubble exists are linked to the eluvians, or they protect eluvians that have access to the Black City.

The Elvhen 2 shows an elf wearing very similar outfit to the elves of “Removal of the Vallaslin” or to the elf of the mural “Self-portrait”. His tidy robes are made of a moss-green and black fabrics. The elvhen holds in his hands a sphere with an asterisk symbol, which we associate with the elven orbs that accumulate power over time [Fade power, more precisely]. This image appears below the lyrium sphere, which makes some sense: the lyrium sphere, pocket space related to lyrium is the one related to “The Death of a Titan” [asterisk symbol]. We know that the power to destroy and/or control Titan’s minds [orb/asterisk symbol] allowed the elves to mine Lyrium.

The elvhen 1 shows a halo behind his head, a symbol of divinity [we see this halo in Mythal’s mosaic, check Evanuris]. His robe now looks more like a fur, which seems to imply this is Fen’Harel. And this is happening under the golden sphere, which may represent divinity as well. This could be what Solas told us at the end of the dlc in the Elven Ruins: he was called Fen’Harel for his enemies, not Solas. Fen’Harel was perceived as a god, even though he may or may not have rejected the power of divinity [I’m not sure because the Ancient Elven codices; Fen’Harel’s mountain ruins are written by Fen’Harel’s followers, and they romanticise him in excess. Solas seems to have a pragmatic attitude, so if he needed the power of a god to seal the Evanuris, he would have used it] Would that mean he used all his power [or perceived “divinity”] to create the Veil? The golden sphere represents divinity after all. Maybe this part of the spell is what exhausted him to the point he needed to slumber for a millennia and still yet he was too weak to unlock the elven orb power.

What I find more interesting here is the lines and decorations of the elvhen’s robes: the Elvhen 2 may be Solas, with lines straight and clear in his robe. The Elvhen 1, who may be Fen’Harel, has his outfit is a bit more messy, with twisted lines [the blue squares in the image]. This detail can be understood as his purpose being twisted [he was more related to Wisdom and Knowledge as Solas, while as Fen’Harel, his purpose started to change into Rebellion]. The change of purpose may produce a twist in the harmony of an elf, since they have a spirit-like nature, even though they are not exactly like a simple spirit. This information has been repeated many times by Solas himself, and even the Avvar in the dlc of Hakkon confirmed it.

The other interpretation is that this mess in his fabric may be his regret. We know that thanks Tevinter Nights, he has been feeding a demon of Regret since the day he created the Veil [the “regret of a god”]. The splashed of ink we see in the green squares looks bit similar to the messy figure of the black wolf in his last tarot card:

Solas has incorporated a new role to his personality since that day. He seems to have started his life as Pride, becoming more complex when sharing wisdom and knowledge, and recording information. Then, later in his life, he incorporated Rebellion, and he embraced it with Pride.

By the banter he has with Varric, Blackwall, and Sera, as well as his tales of the things he saw in the Fade, he seems to enjoy and treasure the acts of Rebellion in all situations, even though he regrets the “War” aspect that Rebellion needs. His banter with Blackwall shows a lot of regret in this aspect that Tevinter Nights translate into the big demon of Regret. These details can be seen too through Cole’s lines that show that Solas’ original role was more related to Teaching and Wisdom than Rebellion and War. And at some point, he needed to start changing his role:

"Wisdom knows enduring is pain. He hurts for her, another of many he couldn't save. He carries necessary deaths."

“In his own way, he knew wisdom, as no man or spirit had before.”

"Bare-faced but free, frolicking fighting, fierce. He wants to give wisdom, not orders."

Integral interpretation

The central part of the mural has a red sphere with a sun, which represents the real reason why Solas banished the evanuris: it was not only the death of Mythal but “something else” that the Evanuris had “unleashed”, and that the elves sealed with collapsed stone and magic. This terrible thing may be related to The Horror of Hormak. In a sense, Fen’Harel “hid” a sphere of fire (the Sun) in the underground [this historical event seems to be reflected in the unreliable Dalish Tale of Elgar’nan]. We may suspect this Sun is some kind of danger related to the Death of a Titan, the corruption of a titan, or the corruption of its blood: red lyrium.

In any case, this space seems to have been sealed with the Evanuris inside, and isolated again to make impossible to access to it from the Fade. This is the true Veil that the Magister Sidereal broke when they entered the Black City, not the Veil that the Inquisitor crossed.

This Veil is protected by seven bubbles that seem to represent the Archdemons when compared with other murals and iconography of the series. There is no way to suspect what’s the meaning of the grey and yellow colour of the bubbles. The rays inside them seem to suggest some kind of surveillance on or direct connection to the red sphere, which has a Sun with the same kind of rays. This reinforces the idea of the bubbles being guardians of the main danger that has been sealed beyond the barrier.

The bubbles have dark bubbles with appendages that may represent bound procedures: these archdemons/dragons may have been bounded to some Fade creature: we don’t know if they are bound to the Evanuris, Forgotten Ones, Forbidden Ones, or other spirits.

The two spheres on the top of the mural seem to represent two pocket worlds. One filled with lyrium [blue one], the other filled with the Evanuris [golden as in “Divinity”] or it simply represents the Golden City. The undulating lines in them may indicate bound procedures, where lyrium and the Evanuris were bound to the Golden City. The bound procedure may have caused some disease that may explain the origin of the red lyrium or the Blight, or maybe Andruil, contaminated with any of them, spread it to the rest of the Evanuris when this bound procedure was executed. There is a fair possibility that the whispers found in the Red Lyrium are the Evanuris bound to it.

The elvhen in the mirror may represent Solas’ journey through the creation of this Barrier: from an elvhen mage called Solas who had the power of an orb [The Anchor],

to the divine and feared furry figure of Fen’Harel, whose actions changed his purpose and, therefore, changed Solas. This even may have started to twist his personality and feed the Regret demon that became a gigantic monster by the time he was part of the Inquisition.

#solas #High speculation #DAI murals #Archdemon #evanuris #red lyrium #the blight #blight #elven orb #asterisk symbol #golden halo #the sun symbol

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kiivg · 2 years ago

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I've seen you draw Blackwall and Dorian(10/10 love to see it) but have you considered Blackwall/The Iron Bull? The oldman needs some tlc from a certain merc.

.So I hinted at BullWall(?) on another piece of mine, but I have thought about it because I've been thinking about The Iron Bull for a while now, so much that I made an Adaar so I can smooch him real time 😘. But thinking about that Adaar (because I LOVE my Trevelyan with all my heart) I kind of want to turn him into a DA2 companion, because there was that one Qunari sellsword (whose name I can't remember) that you can't hire, and idk what my new Hawke's stance on Qunari is because you can actually side with Petrice?? She always dies in my playthroughs 🤔.

.Do I prefer Dorian/Blackwall? Probably haha, I like their little conversation after Blackwall reveals who he really is, there's a lot of similarities in lying about who they are in order to fit in, in wildly different ways ofc, and also both being ostracised in different ways within the Inquisition. But BullWall is something that I've never really focused on because I cant think of scenarios to put them in, but that's mostly because I don't know much about writing Bull or those things. Which is because I'm not really into Adoribull that much, so I avoid taking them together, but I love taking Dorian, and Blackwall is my absolute favourite, and by default my last option for a four man team is a either Vivian or Cassandra so, there's not really that much room for Bull to tag along 😞 (Why not take a rogue, you ask, because I only have Varric lmao, and I don't like Solas so he's in the mage-bin.)

.However this does beg the question of, AdoriBullWall? Again, need my Bull knowledge before I go into that.

.I am drawing a companion piece to the Champion in Crestwood picture, but I am both sick and busy this week so that'll be a while yet. But rejoice! It's a sketch in progress at the moment 😀.

.Thank you for the ask!! I'm always open for requests, or asks or whatever 😀.

#answer #anonymous #bullwall #dragon age inquisition #the iron bull #blackwall #mxm #dai #.Im posting this from my tablet for the first time so bear with.

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midnightactual · 1 year ago

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A lightly edited rant on parts of Ryōgo Narita's postscript from Can't Fear Your Own World vol. III:

When Matsubara and I met Kubo directly in order to prepare for the novels, we asked him rapid-fire questions about the mysteries remaining in BLEACH’s world: “What about that?! What happened in that part?!” “What about that character’s past?!” When we heard Kubo’s responses, I was blown away by his many charming creations. “Wh-why didn’t you include the past of the Reio and the aristocrats and the underside of the world in the original story?!” When I asked him that, he gave me a clear answer that I couldn’t disagree with: “This is a story about Ichigo and the Soul Reapers’ battle, so I didn’t want to muddy the story’s focus by taking it away from that.” Regardless of the past, Ichigo and the other Soul Reapers were fighting in order to stay true to their souls. If the story’s focus were shifted away from that, then it would no longer be a part of BLEACH’s original narrative. However, though he had purposefully not written it as part of the original story, when I heard about the many incredibly fascinating backstories he had, I automatically asked him, “In that case, may I divulge those things you’ve established as part of my novelization?” I was sure that would cause him to angrily respond, “Did you even hear what I said?” However, rather than being angry, Kubo was kind enough to give me even more intricate details about what he had created and gave me a lot of advice about a new character that would need to be created. Then, as a result of the conversation about which character, who wasn’t Ichigo and who would preferably be part of the Soul Reapers themselves, could fight against that malicious head of the Four Great Noble Clans, we chose Shuhei Hisagi as the main character.

I want to focus on the bolded sections in reverse order. For the second:

screw off! literally the entire novel, okay, the two people constantly on Tokinada's ass are Shunsui and Yoruichi. Yoruichi as a Great Noble who despises Tokinada as a piece of shit and actually fights him twice, and Shunsui as a Noble who hates the nobility. Shuuhei DOESN'T EVEN FIGHT Tokinada! he fights Hikone! he barely interacts with Tokinada! but you wanna blow smoke up our asses in the author's notes at the end about how he fights against him when we have literally just seen that is not true. bullshit. he comes in at the last minute as a deus ex machina so Kenpachi doesn't chop Hikone in half. screw you. it was literally a Yoruichi and Shunsui novel that you then turned into the Shinji and Shuuhei Bankai Extravaganza which doesn't even matter now because Shinji's Bankai is in the anime and I'll bet SP shows Shuuhei's Bankai training. you claim that it revealed the truth of all this lore, but actually it revealed pretty much jack shit. okay, let me explain that last statement. suppose we are talking about the Ukraine War, okay? and I tell you it's the last battle of the Eastern and Western Roman Empire for supremacy. you go, "huh?" and I tell you about Romulus and Remus and the Trojan War, and then I don't tell you anything else. wouldn't you still be going "huh?" that's what they did!

For the first:

hey Kubo, you jerk, you had these end chapter omake. 686 of them! MAYBE DO SOMETHING USEFUL WITH THEM AND USE THEM TO SHOW YOUR HOMEWORK instead of a crummy sketch? like AT THE START OF THE MANGA? how about THOSE FIVE DATA BOOKS YOU GOT? the ones where you just repeated the same info over and over and over? "I didn't want to muddy the waters and let anyone understand the stakes or the context or why any of this shit was actually happening because the EMOTIONAL RESONANCE was so vital" oh my god piss off with your self-serving bullshit and inability to plan or utilize your time well

I would also like to note this:

By the way, after Matsubara and I heard the story of how Kisuke Urahara and Yoruichi Shihoin met, both of us said the same thing immediately. “You have to draw that with your own hand as a manga, Kubo!” Or “Really, I’d like to read that as a manga!” Those fascinating characters as well as a story hidden within the world…

fuck you

#Out Of Character #Long Post #Negativity TW #[ actually there's even more that annoys me ]#[ like that ]#[ 'no longer be a part of BLEACH's original narrative' ]#[ bit but I'd be here all day ]

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jabbage · 2 years ago

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#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

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dickens-daily · 20 days ago

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CHAPTER III—THE FOUR SISTERS

The row of houses in which the old lady and her troublesome neighbour reside, comprises, beyond all doubt, a greater number of characters within its circumscribed limits, than all the rest of the parish put together. As we cannot, consistently with our present plan, however, extend the number of our parochial sketches beyond six, it will be better perhaps, to select the most peculiar, and to introduce them at once without further preface.

The four Miss Willises, then, settled in our parish thirteen years ago. It is a melancholy reflection that the old adage, ‘time and tide wait for no man,’ applies with equal force to the fairer portion of the creation; and willingly would we conceal the fact, that even thirteen years ago the Miss Willises were far from juvenile. Our duty as faithful parochial chroniclers, however, is paramount to every other consideration, and we are bound to state, that thirteen years since, the authorities in matrimonial cases, considered the youngest Miss Willis in a very precarious state, while the eldest sister was positively given over, as being far beyond all human hope. Well, the Miss Willises took a lease of the house; it was fresh painted and papered from top to bottom: the paint inside was all wainscoted, the marble all cleaned, the old grates taken down, and register-stoves, you could see to dress by, put up; four trees were planted in the back garden, several small baskets of gravel sprinkled over the front one, vans of elegant furniture arrived, spring blinds were fitted to the windows, carpenters who had been employed in the various preparations, alterations, and repairs, made confidential statements to the different maid-servants in the row, relative to the magnificent scale on which the Miss Willises were commencing; the maid-servants told their ‘Missises,’ the Missises told their friends, and vague rumours were circulated throughout the parish, that No. 25, in Gordon-place, had been taken by four maiden ladies of immense property.

At last, the Miss Willises moved in; and then the ‘calling’ began. The house was the perfection of neatness—so were the four Miss Willises. Everything was formal, stiff, and cold—so were the four Miss Willises. Not a single chair of the whole set was ever seen out of its place—not a single Miss Willis of the whole four was ever seen out of hers. There they always sat, in the same places, doing precisely the same things at the same hour. The eldest Miss Willis used to knit, the second to draw, the two others to play duets on the piano. They seemed to have no separate existence, but to have made up their minds just to winter through life together. They were three long graces in drapery, with the addition, like a school-dinner, of another long grace afterwards—the three fates with another sister—the Siamese twins multiplied by two. The eldest Miss Willis grew bilious—the four Miss Willises grew bilious immediately. The eldest Miss Willis grew ill-tempered and religious—the four Miss Willises were ill-tempered and religious directly. Whatever the eldest did, the others did, and whatever anybody else did, they all disapproved of; and thus they vegetated—living in Polar harmony among themselves, and, as they sometimes went out, or saw company ‘in a quiet-way’ at home, occasionally icing the neighbours. Three years passed over in this way, when an unlooked for and extraordinary phenomenon occurred. The Miss Willises showed symptoms of summer, the frost gradually broke up; a complete thaw took place. Was it possible? one of the four Miss Willises was going to be married!

Now, where on earth the husband came from, by what feelings the poor man could have been actuated, or by what process of reasoning the four Miss Willises succeeded in persuading themselves that it was possible for a man to marry one of them, without marrying them all, are questions too profound for us to resolve: certain it is, however, that the visits of Mr. Robinson (a gentleman in a public office, with a good salary and a little property of his own, besides) were received—that the four Miss Willises were courted in due form by the said Mr Robinson—that the neighbours were perfectly frantic in their anxiety to discover which of the four Miss Willises was the fortunate fair, and that the difficulty they experienced in solving the problem was not at all lessened by the announcement of the eldest Miss Willis,—‘We are going to marry Mr. Robinson.’

It was very extraordinary. They were so completely identified, the one with the other, that the curiosity of the whole row—even of the old lady herself—was roused almost beyond endurance. The subject was discussed at every little card-table and tea-drinking. The old gentleman of silk-worm notoriety did not hesitate to express his decided opinion that Mr. Robinson was of Eastern descent, and contemplated marrying the whole family at once; and the row, generally, shook their heads with considerable gravity, and declared the business to be very mysterious. They hoped it might all end well;—it certainly had a very singular appearance, but still it would be uncharitable to express any opinion without good grounds to go upon, and certainly the Miss Willises were quite old enough to judge for themselves, and to be sure people ought to know their own business best, and so forth.

At last, one fine morning, at a quarter before eight o’clock, a.m., two glass-coaches drove up to the Miss Willises’ door, at which Mr. Robinson had arrived in a cab ten minutes before, dressed in a light-blue coat and double-milled kersey pantaloons, white neckerchief, pumps, and dress-gloves, his manner denoting, as appeared from the evidence of the housemaid at No. 23, who was sweeping the door-steps at the time, a considerable degree of nervous excitement. It was also hastily reported on the same testimony, that the cook who opened the door, wore a large white bow of unusual dimensions, in a much smarter head-dress than the regulation cap to which the Miss Willises invariably restricted the somewhat excursive tastes of female servants in general.

The intelligence spread rapidly from house to house. It was quite clear that the eventful morning had at length arrived; the whole row stationed themselves behind their first and second floor blinds, and waited the result in breathless expectation.

At last the Miss Willises’ door opened; the door of the first glass-coach did the same. Two gentlemen, and a pair of ladies to correspond—friends of the family, no doubt; up went the steps, bang went the door, off went the first class-coach, and up came the second.

The street door opened again; the excitement of the whole row increased—Mr. Robinson and the eldest Miss Willis. ‘I thought so,’ said the lady at No. 19; ‘I always said it was Miss Willis!’—‘Well, I never!’ ejaculated the young lady at No. 18 to the young lady at No. 17.—‘Did you ever, dear!’ responded the young lady at No. 17 to the young lady at No. 18. ‘It’s too ridiculous!’ exclaimed a spinster of an uncertain age, at No. 16, joining in the conversation. But who shall portray the astonishment of Gordon-place, when Mr. Robinson handed in all the Miss Willises, one after the other, and then squeezed himself into an acute angle of the glass-coach, which forthwith proceeded at a brisk pace, after the other glass-coach, which other glass-coach had itself proceeded, at a brisk pace, in the direction of the parish church! Who shall depict the perplexity of the clergyman, when all the Miss Willises knelt down at the communion-table, and repeated the responses incidental to the marriage service in an audible voice—or who shall describe the confusion which prevailed, when—even after the difficulties thus occasioned had been adjusted—all the Miss Willises went into hysterics at the conclusion of the ceremony, until the sacred edifice resounded with their united wailings!

As the four sisters and Mr. Robinson continued to occupy the same house after this memorable occasion, and as the married sister, whoever she was, never appeared in public without the other three, we are not quite clear that the neighbours ever would have discovered the real Mrs. Robinson, but for a circumstance of the most gratifying description, which will happen occasionally in the best-regulated families. Three quarter-days elapsed, and the row, on whom a new light appeared to have been bursting for some time, began to speak with a sort of implied confidence on the subject, and to wonder how Mrs. Robinson—the youngest Miss Willis that was—got on; and servants might be seen running up the steps, about nine or ten o’clock every morning, with ‘Missis’s compliments, and wishes to know how Mrs. Robinson finds herself this morning?’ And the answer always was, ‘Mrs. Robinson’s compliments, and she’s in very good spirits, and doesn’t find herself any worse.’ The piano was heard no longer, the knitting-needles were laid aside, drawing was neglected, and mantua-making and millinery, on the smallest scale imaginable, appeared to have become the favourite amusement of the whole family. The parlour wasn’t quite as tidy as it used to be, and if you called in the morning, you would see lying on a table, with an old newspaper carelessly thrown over them, two or three particularly small caps, rather larger than if they had been made for a moderate-sized doll, with a small piece of lace, in the shape of a horse-shoe, let in behind: or perhaps a white robe, not very large in circumference, but very much out of proportion in point of length, with a little tucker round the top, and a frill round the bottom; and once when we called, we saw a long white roller, with a kind of blue margin down each side, the probable use of which, we were at a loss to conjecture. Then we fancied that Dr. Dawson, the surgeon, &c., who displays a large lamp with a different colour in every pane of glass, at the corner of the row, began to be knocked up at night oftener than he used to be; and once we were very much alarmed by hearing a hackney-coach stop at Mrs. Robinson’s door, at half-past two o’clock in the morning, out of which there emerged a fat old woman, in a cloak and night-cap, with a bundle in one hand, and a pair of pattens in the other, who looked as if she had been suddenly knocked up out of bed for some very special purpose.

When we got up in the morning we saw that the knocker was tied up in an old white kid glove; and we, in our innocence (we were in a state of bachelorship then), wondered what on earth it all meant, until we heard the eldest Miss Willis, in propriâ personâ say, with great dignity, in answer to the next inquiry, ‘My compliments, and Mrs. Robinson’s doing as well as can be expected, and the little girl thrives wonderfully.’ And then, in common with the rest of the row, our curiosity was satisfied, and we began to wonder it had never occurred to us what the matter was, before.

_____

Title | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#sketches by boz #sbb #charles dickens

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0miss-anonymous0 · 3 months ago

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The Artist and the Sketchbook

“Mom they’re real, I’m telling the truth.They look like this and they’re real.” Her mom rolled her eyes, but she still looked at the sketchbook. On the page was a creature that looked to be made of pure shadow, it was tall and its limbs looked to be very skinny and its arms almost touched the ground. On the next page was the same creature with only a different pose. This time it was on all fours like an animal and its back was hunched, which revealed just how emaciated the creature looked. Its spine almost seemed to emerge from its back.

Enola’s mom had to admit her daughter was very talented at drawing. She always had a knack for drawing pictures that looked realistic, too realistic in fact. Her drawings always seemed like they could come to life at any second. The more Enola’s mom stared at the page the more unsettled she got. The creature her daughter drew looked real, but she knew that it wasn’t. However, looking at the sketch made her question that thought.

“You’re letting your imagination run wild again Enola.” Her mother said and returned to wiping the counter.

“Then how do you explain the nightmares I’ve been having?”

“You watch too many horror movies.”

Enola sighed in defeat.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Enola said goodbye to her mother and left for the creek down the road from her house. She sat down next to the edge and watched as the tiny fish swam past. She pulled out her sketchbook and began drawing. At first she began drawing some of the bugs she spotted in the grass- a cricket, a stick bug, and a spider- when she finished she brushed the eraser shavings off the pages.

Enola set her sketchbook down but didn’t close it. She fished her phone out of her pocket and went to the camera. She began taking photos of the scenery around, it was very beautiful and serene, and most important to Enola quiet. Nobody ever came here. It was like a little world hidden from everyone where she could go whenever she wanted.

She put her phone away and walked back to her sketchbook, when she looked down to pick it up she saw that there wasn’t anything drawn on the page she left open, however there was a stick bug, a cricket, and a spider. She picked up her sketchbook and shook the bugs off. Enola turned back a page and noticed that that page too was blank, then she turned back another page, and another until she was back at the very first page of the book. Every page was blank as if she had never even drawn anything in it.

Enola closed her sketchbook and turned to leave but when she did she wished she hadn’t. Standing before her was the creature probably only a little over a few feet away from her. It was so much bigger than the last time she saw one. Even just standing on all fours it towered over her at about 10 ft tall and with those long limbs she didn’t want to know what it looked like standing upright.

The creature opened its mouth and spoke. “You’re different from other humans, I can see it radiating off of you. You possess a special power and your smell it smells.” The creature inhaled. “Delicious.” Its voice was deep and rumbling, yet at the same time shrill and earsplitting.

Then it lunged at her sharp claws and teeth coming straight for her, at the last second Enola dropped to the ground and rolled a foot away. She didn’t look behind her, she got up and ran.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Enola’s legs were screaming in pain, her lungs burning trying to catch up with her pace, she knew that she should have done P.E. this year instead of a second elective. Just walking to the creek took at least 15-20 minutes and with that…… thing after her there was no way she would make it back. She had to slow it down, throw it off of her trail, defeat it, something she had to do something.

She made a sharp turn into the construction site in her neighborhood. ‘Now what’ she thought. She hid inside the almost finished building and took out her phone and dialed her mom’s number. ‘Come on, pick up, pick up’ the phone stopped dialing but her mom didn’t answer. Instead it went to voicemail. She hung up.

Enola started walking further into the house trying to put as much distance between her and the creature as she could. Then suddenly she was grabbed from behind and a hand was covering her mouth. Out of fear and because it was the only thing she could think of, she licked whoever’s hand it was. The person let go of her immediately.

“Ew we’re here to rescue you and this is how you greet us, you humans are weird.” Enola turned around and saw a man standing before her. He was tall with curly golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a yellow crew neck with a white collared shirt under it. The jeans he wore were rolled up at the bottom to form cuffs around his ankles and his shoes were a pair of black converse.

“Rescue me?! You grabbed me from behind and put your hand over my mouth. That seems more like kidnapping than helping.” Enola said, trying to keep her voice down.

“Look I’ll explain later but right now you have to get out of here and to Otherworld.” He looked at her with determination and with that look she felt like she could trust him and she’d rather take on a man rather than whatever that thing was outside.

“Ok but you said we’re, there’s only you and you called me human as if you’re not-?”

“Like I said I’ll explain later, right now we have more pressing matters to attend to. I know this is strange and confusing and you might think you’re tripping on shrooms, but I need you to be quiet and trust us no matter what. Can you do that?”

Enola opened her mouth to reply but then closed it and nodded.

The guy took her hand and they ran.

They made it out of the unfinished house and backed a few feet away from it, making sure to keep their eyes on the entrance.

The man fished something out of his pocket and threw it on the ground. They looked like small rocks, but they began to grow and take shape. They become two huge stone warriors. And just in time too. The creature came running out of the building grey smoke came out of its nostrils in anger. It lunged at the stone warriors but they fought back.

The monster clawed at the warriors but even its sharp iron talons couldn’t penetrate them. The stone warriors grabbed both arms of the monster and pinned it on its back. It tried to wriggle itself free, screaming in an earth shaking, headache inducing squeal, as it did. But it couldn’t get free.

“Now Scarlet!” The man called. Then a woman wearing a cloak, like red riding hood appeared in front of them. She stepped towards the monster and lifted her hand. The monster started to fade into ash until there was nothing left of it, except a bright glowing orb floating where it once was. The woman walked towards the orb and held it in her hands. A glass case appearing around it.

“I’ll give this soul to my dad, see if he can find out anything about it.” The woman turned around and removed her hood. She was beautiful. Her long straight hair was parted down the middle perfectly to show her vibrant red and black split dye hair. Her skin was the purest alabaster Enola had ever seen, it sparkled in the sunlight like glitter. Her eyes were a dazzling ruby red just like her lips, lips that were round and had a perfectly defined Cupid’s bow. Her makeup was also perfect from her matte red lips to her sharp eyeliner to her black and red eyeshadow. Her clothes were beautiful too. She was wearing an entirely black dress with intricate lace patterned on the bodice and sleeves. The skirt reached down to her ankles and had two slits in the side that started at her mid thigh. She wore sheer tights which were ripped in random places and her boots were black leather with high heels. She looked like a vampiric queen you’d see in movies. From her hair to her black stiletto shaped nails to her shoes.

“Hello Enola Newman, it’s nice to finally meet you. My name is Scarlet Grimoire and this is my partner Gi-” she was cut off.

“Giles Vitus at your service.” He knelt down in front of Enola, grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. Enola squeaked in surprise and yanked her hand away.

Scarlet elbowed him and rolled her eyes. “Leave the child alone, she's been through enough for one day, and you’re joking isn’t funny.” Scarlet turned to Enola bent down to be eye level with her and put her hands on her shoulders. “We’ll take you back home and when we get there, we’ll explain everything to you and your mom. I promise, I know you have a million questions and you’re scared and confused but I promise we won’t let anything happen to you.”

Enola looked into her eyes and she could see the sincerity in them and nodded her head in agreement. Even if she wanted to argue or disagree, she didn’t have it in her after the events of today. And so she went home with them.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

The sun was still up when Enola made it home, luckily her mom was sitting on the couch reading a book. And also luckily or unlucky Enola’s mother didn’t seem at all surprised to see two strangers accompanying her daughter.

“It’s happened then hasn’t it?”

“Yes, it’s time Mrs. Newman. For her to find out and for both of you to make a decision.” Scarlet answered.

“Does that mean we can stop hiding? We should stop, it does drain our magic, you know we should show them who we truly are. Oh and tell them too. Besides, we are going to use our magic to go home to Otherworld.” Giles said with too much enthusiasm. Truly he didn’t care if Scarlet’s answer was yes or no he just wanted to revert back into his true form out of laziness not because it depleted his magic. And besides Scarlet knew that if she said no he would do it anyways.

“Fine, I suppose it would be best. Enola please take a seat next to your mother. Scarlet said.

Enola obeyed and before her she saw them both start to change. Scarlet’s hands began to fade. Well not exactly they were still there but they became translucent to where you could see her bones almost like fingers in a sheer pair of gloves, this went up her arm until her elbow where it started to fade back into normal skin. Giles grew horns and he grew slightly taller but more surprisingly his legs became those of a….. goat? His horns curved around the sides of his head like ‘C’s and the fur on his legs was a pure white like a baby lamb. His eyes also changed; they were still blue but his pupils were now elongated like a goat’s too.

Enola sat there stunned and she looked to her mother who remained calm then back to the pair. “Ok that is it now I really need to know what’s going on this makes no sense, and mom why are you completely unaffected by this!?” Enola yelled.

Her mom turned to her. “It’s best if they explain first and then I will.”

“First things first, you already know our names, but you don’t know who we are. I am the daughter of the Lord of Death, the Harbinger of souls, the-”

“Her father is the Grimm Reaper and my mom is the Goddess of life.” Giles cut in. ‘Yeah that definitely clears things up.’ Enola thought.

“Anyways the world we come from is both far from your own and yet one in the same.” Every time Scarlet tried to explain something, it felt like Enola just heard white noise. Nothing made sense. She couldn’t tell if it was just her mind trying to process being hunted by a monster or if Scarlet’s diction was the problem. Either way she didn’t retain anything.

“Um Scar she looks completely lost. I think I’ll take a stab at explaining.” Giles piped in.

“We are from a different world from the one you’re used to, but it’s also exactly the same. Think of it like the multiverse in comic books. Our world has the same geography as yours but its people and inhabitants are different. Such as me and Scarlet for example. I’m a satyr and she’s…..her. Anyways our world is filled with magic and mythical creatures. Those things you read about in fantasy novels and old mythology they’re real there. Well some of them others are actually false like the jackalope, but the wolpertinger is and so is the almiraj.” Giles finished feeling proud of himself.

Enola was still extremely confused but she grasped some of what they were saying. There’s a different world that looks the same as hers but there’s mythical creatures and magic. That she could get but what was that thing that attacked her today?

“Any questions?” Giles asked.

“Yes a lot actually. What was that thing that attacked me today and what did it want and most importantly how did it get here!?” Enola yelled.

“It was a shapeshifter.” Answered Scarlet, “they were on his side in the Great War. But don’t think that shapeshifters are bad just the one who attacked you was. The dark truth is there are creatures of myth who are pure evil. They kill and torture without remorse.” Scarlet looked down sadly. Then straight up as if pushing her feelings down. “As for what it wanted, shapeshifters who work on the side of evil usually take the form of people they kill. It’s a way to bring more evil forces here without being detected and it’s easier for them to mimic a person if they know exactly about their DNA structure. And sadly eating them is a good way to go about it. Usually they target children, or the elderly though something less likely to put up much of a struggle. As for how it got here, usually monsters and demons come through portals made by dark magic called rifts. However, this one was created by you.”

“But how?”

“You like me possess the magic of life. A rare power indeed. You can animate things and probably given time and practice you could probably even give them sentience too.” Giles said giddily.

“That’s impossible. I'm not a mythical creature magical being thing like you two are. I’m human, my mom is human” Enola pointed to her mother. “My father is also human.” She finished.

“This is where I explain. Enola it’s true that we are all human, but your father is different. He has magic just like you although a different power set. You know how he’s been deployed for the past two months? He’s in Otherworld, right now.” Mrs. Newman explained to her daughter.

“So that’s why he never brings me souvenirs. Anything else I should know like anything about the otherworld or how to defend myself or more importantly how to use my powers?” Enola said the last two with excitement.

“Yes, the whole purpose of the rifts is because in the Great War the two worlds were divided. It was deemed safer for those who lacked magic powers and could not defend themselves from a magic user to be kept separate. Now the dark army wants to bring about a second one and merge the worlds again and in doing so enslave the human race. Also shapeshifters and other evil creatures aren’t the only things that go through rifts. Sometimes mythical creatures go through them by accident, I believe you call them cryptids? Humans can go through them too. Sadly most of the time they’re taken by force by the dark army. All those millions of missing people reported every year on the news, they aren't missing. They were taken through the rifts and they didn’t make it back; instead they were conscripted to join the dark forces. Some escape but most of the time….” Scarlet's words dragged off at the end like explaining that was a direct stab to the heart.

“Take a break Scar, I’ll handle the rest.” Giles said as he put his hand on her shoulder and smiled at her. She listened and took a seat on the couch.

“As for learning more about your powers and how to defend yourself, that is where your choice comes into play. You can stay here with your mom in the mortal world or you can come with us to Otherworld. The choice is yours.”

“I have two more questions. How did I summon that shapeshifter, where would I learn, and does this mean Mothman is real?” to say that she was excited was an understatement, Enola was practically bouncing in her seat.

“That’s actually three questions. But for life magic there has to be something to bring to life. The pictures you drew in your sketchbook are sure something, especially if it made something as realistic as that shapeshifter. Although it was only a juvenile. And because your magic is severely out of practice it couldn’t think for itself, it could only run after you. If you study and get really good one day you’ll make something that has a mind of its own. Since I possess the same magic as you I would be your teacher of course, besides schools in Otherworld don’t have professors who specialize in rare magic only common ones such as water or fire or ice. It’s pretty boring honestly. I’d know, Scarlet and I went a few centuries ago. And yes he is real, so are Nessie and Bigfoot.” Giles answered.

Enola turned to her mother. “Mom-.”

“Go Enola. You need to, you’ll be closer to your father. In Otherworld they can better protect you than I can here.”

“But you can go with me right?”

“I’m afraid I can’t. I need to stay here. If we all disappeared it would cause problems and bring up questions. I’ll say that I enrolled you into a boarding school abroad.”

Enola hugged her mother tightly with tears in her eyes. She let go and looked to Giles. “I’ll go.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Enola walked through the portal to Otherworld that Scarlet opened using a key. When she stepped through behind them she wasn’t expecting what she saw.

Before her was the inside of a building. The floors were marble tile. Symmetrically placed white columns lined the walls and between them were statues and paintings of historical figures and moments. The walkway in the middle of the floor was made out of solid gold. It led to a huge counter with humanoid creatures sitting upfront.

“Where are we?”

“Customs office, since you’re not a citizen you’ll need to register.” Scarlet said. “They’ll ask you basic information like your age, birthdate, and family background. But the most important thing they’ll ask is your name so choose wisely.”

“Why wouldn’t I just use my birth name?”

“You could.” Scarlet and Giles answered in unison.

They checked in to their appointment and were led into an office room by one of the workers. She handed Enola the papers and began to explain the document's contents. When she finished explaining she left the trio to think over the document.

“Enola lesson number one. I want you to look out the window.” Giles ordered. Something told Enola he was going to have a little too much fun being her teacher.

“But why?”

“Don’t talk back to your elders, youngling, and listen to your teacher.” Yeah, he was definitely going to have too much fun.

Enola sighed in annoyance and defeat. But she did it and she walked over to the window. It looked like an ordinary window, nothing special. “Yep, it's a window,” She said sarcastically, making Scarlet chuckle from behind her hand.

“Look closer.” Giles eased.

Enola looked back at it again this time however it wasn’t a window it was a mirror. And for some reason her reflection wasn’t in it. She reached her hand out to touch it. Nothing happened.

“Here in Otherworld, who you are is not determined by power or where you come from, by your species or anything superficial like that; it is determined by who you are and how you act. You can be anything you want to be here, you are in control. Now imagine yourself and what you look like.”

So she imagined her freckles, her chocolate brown eyes, her shoulder length brown hair, everything that made Enola, well Enola. She stared at herself for a moment. She looked at her reflection for a few seconds wondering what would happen if she imagined what she would look like with different colored eyes. Then it was different colored hair, different clothes, and Enola no longer looked like Enola. She was a completely different person.

She blinked. It wasn't what she was expecting.

“Is that who you want to be?” Scarlet asked.

She thought about it for a moment. She thought about how she looked before; the true her. The her: that was bullied in school, teased and mocked, and would run away and cry alone in the bathroom during lunchtime. The her that could never make friends because she was too scared of rejection. The her that threw herself into her art hoping for an escape; the her that she hated.

The more she stared at that mirror the more she realized the person she’d turned into wasn’t her at all; it was what she thought everyone would want to see of her. She had long hair cascading down her back, instead of a short wolf cut. Her freckles were gone and instead her face was covered in makeup. Her nails were painted and her glasses were no longer covering her eyes and her eyes were blue instead of their normal chocolate brown. She turned herself into those girls at school who had mocked her, made her want to scream and cry. She became them because she believed them to be superior to her. But she was wrong.

The girl in the mirror faded. Enola remembered what Giles said “Who you are is not determined by anything superficial.” ‘He’s right I will be a new person, someone that I love, and that I’m proud of.’ Enola thought.

Enola closed her eyes and took a calming deep breath, looking into the mirror again. She imagined herself everything she hated about her appearance and everything she was teased for. She left it alone, she let it shine through. She looked back at the mirror and smiled at herself.

“Good choice.” Giles said.

“I agree.” Said Scarlet

“Thank you, I like it too.” She smiled. Enola walked over to the desk, picked up the quill pen and began to fill out the form.

When she finished the form glowed and transformed into an ID card. It had Enola’s new name, her birthday and other information.

“What name did you choose?” Asked Scarlet.

“Genesis, here in Otherworld I’m starting from scratch, a new life and beginning. I hate who I was. I want to reinvent myself into something that I’m proud of. I want to start anew and learn to accept myself and learn how to use my power for good and put an end to this chaos. I’m a new me from here on out. I am Genesis, the artist of life and the world will say ‘they were a person worthy of a new life.’

#oc #Ocs #short stories #writing #oc stories #backstory #oc backstory #Genesis #Scarlet #Scarlet Grimoire #Giles #Giles Vitus #writeblr #aspiring writer #writers on tumblr #female writers

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digitalmediafundamentals · 7 months ago

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The podcast part 2

So we filmed the podcast. I was in charge of being a host and making the logo. The process of making the logo was pretty simple, first I did a rough sketch in traditional media then I took a picture of it to make the line art and coloring in a digital format. After that, I took a picture of a nugget and placed it in between the coloring layers to make it fit nicely. Then I got a pic of some clouds and put them behind with some red and yellow hue filters over it to add that last bit of disaster behind our little nugget friend. The reason we chose the rainbow and cloud explosion background is because we want to show that yes we are definitely happy to be here but, that coming here didn’t happen without hardships.

As for the podcast it was a lot of fun setting it up!

We decided to split our 6-person group into 2 sessions of 3 people hosting at a time.

The first group was me, Lee, and Jula and the second was Orianna, Will, and Cassie.

We all met in the base classroom in our PJs with snacks from our home countries.

We had all put in three questions that we wanted to answer during the podcast.

Each of which related to being an international student who lives and studies here in the UK.

We talked about the adversity, hardships, and struggles alongside the triumphs, excitement, and joy of being a uni student in the UK.

We used the rodecaster rig which is the same device we learned how to use in class.

We’re able to connect four microphones, four headphones, a phone with Bluetooth, and an on-deck soundboard.

It was really nice being able to talk to others who are in a similar situation, and I really hope it can help others who are also in our situation feel less alone.

youtube

There would have been 2 episodes however Tragedy struck. T^T

The episode Jula, Lee, and I hosted unfortunately got corrupted while in the editing phase and we didn’t have enough time to rerecord or try and fix it so it is now lost media. But, if anything I see this as a lesson in saving files and team dependency, and as much as it sucks that we lost the first episode it’s still taught us some valuable media tricks. I am bummed that it’s gone but, I’m happy we have the second one still!

#Youtube

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daydreamingleclerc · 3 years ago

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burberry - mason mount smut

dedicated to the £1,400 jacket he wore to the AJ fight (and how hot he looked chewing gum) because i can’t stop thinking about it <3

not my gif, but he looks so sexy <333

summary: mason gets cocky in his expensive jacket at the fight and offers to place bets that you just can’t refuse.

warnings: 18+, minors DNI. cocky!mason, dom!mason, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, public sex, spanking, a mention of choking, a mention of squirting, hair pulling. it also hasn’t been proof read so apologies for any mistakes! i think that’s it :))

going to the fight would’ve been fine -- perfectly fine, in fact -- if mason didn’t look so fucking good. all night the pair of you sat beside one another, pretending as if you hadn’t been having casual sex for nearly four months, as if you hadn’t had sex the night before; and the tension was beginning to bubble over inside of you.

you’d never seen him this cocky, with an edge to him that screamed eightes heartthrob, and you couldn’t tell whether it was because he believed that joshua would destroy usyk, or whether it was because of mason’s new style -- the jacket inparticular -- a cream cotton with shark sketches covering the entirety of it’s front that held the eyes of all those around him.

the tension had been rising all night, and when he sat beside you and pulled out the tub of chewing gum that was sticking out from the corner of your bag, it felt like your last straw. you glared at him as he popped the lid, while everyone around you shouted and chanted, and the look on his face ignited something inside of you.

“oh, sorry,” he held the pot out to your fingertips, a smirk dangling on his lips, “did you want some?”

“no,” you snatched the pot from his hands and dropped it back into your bag with knitted eyebrows as you watched the undercard fight, unimpressed. mason continued to smooth down and fiddle with the collar of his cream jacket to get your attention, knowing the fight was never something you were particularly interested in; and it was working. he kept that loose-lipped smirk on his face even as his tongue poked out from between his teeth with the gum popping around it.

“have you always been this cocky or have i missed tonight’s memo?”

mason turned to face you, his eyes immediately dropping to your cleavage that was sitting pretty in an extremely low cut, shimmery pink mini-dress, and then his eyes fell upon yours, his smirk growing wider.

“want to place bets?”

“huh?”

the scowl on your face was much more obvious now that he’d been undressing you for the last five minutes and because he didn’t answer your question. as mason turned in to face you slightly you wondered if it drew the attention of those sitting around you, but then again, you didn’t really care. “do you want to place bets on the fight?”

“what kind of bet?” you raised an eyebrow, curiousity taking over. he simply shrugged, popping the gum between his lips.

“well, if joshua wins -- which he will -- then you and i get to have sex every day for two weeks, as many times as we want-”

“-but we do that an-”

“-i’m not finished,” mason raised a eyebrow, his fingers swirling light circles on your shoulders, while you sat back in your chair, awaiting the final words. “we get to have sex every day for two weeks, as many times as we want, but you’re only allowed to cum if i let you.” you rolled your eyes. you should’ve seen it coming.

“okay, if usyk wins then you give me that jacket, you buy me a new pot of gum and,” you pondered over your thoughts for a minute a smirk on your face, “you can fuck me however you want somewhere in this stadium, so all the girls who keep drooling over you tonight realise you’re fucking me.”

mason chuckled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he sat back against his chair, pressing a kiss to your temple, “you really do get jealous about that, don’t you?”

“of course i do,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “you wouldn’t like it if everyone was gawking over me all night.”

mason smirked, and opened his mouth to make a comment but shrugged his shoulders instead. his lips brushed your ear and his lips longed to kiss your lips, but he halted. “OK then, what about if i say that if joshua wins you and i make this-” he gestured between the two of you, “-official, amongst all my other requests for the bet.”

a pink blush tainted your cheeks but you nodded despite your shock, and held your hand out to shake his, sealing the deal.

when usyk was announced as the new champion, the majority of joshua’s fans were deflated, but congratulated the new champion with respectiful and appreciative claps. mason and declan both looked frustrated when the game had ended, both of them wanting their friend to win even if it seemed like it was for two different reasons.

you tried to keep from gloating in mason’s ear about the bet, how you’d won and he now had to give up his beloved burberry jacket, something which you believed wouldn’t be stripped off easily. much of the stadium cleared out, with it now just being the v.i.p guests who were waiting around for the afterparty to start.

you waited at the sides with josh, chunkz and lauren while declan and mason did an impromptu interview about the match, playing friendly and sitting pretty before you could jump his bones at the afterparty.

“do you know how to stand still?” mason asked when he met back up with you, his lips inches from your ear as you fought not to make it obvious that the two of you were aching and ready. he continued to chew his gum in a way that made him look so cocky you almost wanted to punch him in the face.

“that sounds like a funny way to offer me your jacket,” you replied, and watched as his lips curled into a smirk and his eyes lit up. you watched as he pulled the jacket from his arms effortlessly, and encapsulated you in the warmth of it all. it smelled like his aftershave -- cedar and mandarin -- as he placed it on your shoulders.

you hovered around him all night, fingers tracing his now bare arms and the back of his neck just to get a rise of some sort out of him. every time you did it, you were greeted with a smirk and side eye, one that told you to go careful, but you shrugged it off and continued with your teasing - after all, you won the bet.

he watched as your lips wrapped around the straw that was in your glass, and he almost choked on his drink when your lipstick left marks on it, fighting the devil on his shoulder that told him to just bend you over then and there.

“do you take pride in being an insufferable tease or do i have to remind you about the bet?”

“the bet that i won?”

both of you were just as stubborn and horny as one another at this point, the constant one-upping of the other was a thing you both equally got off on, and when mason took a side step closer so his arm was now brushing the jacket, you gulped. “i know what you’re doing,” he leaned down, his bacardi tinted breath fanning your face, “you’re teasing me like this on purpose, winding me up so you’ll get what you want.”

you sucked your drink through your straw again and hummed, “don’t be bitter because you didn’t win the bet, mason,” you cooed, leaning in closer so your lips were tickled by the stubble on the underside of his bottom lip, just above his chin, “i’ll meet you in the entertainment room, ten minutes.”

before you knew it, mason had you pinned against the wall, his hand wrapped around your neck. he’d already pulled the cleavage out from your dress, and his lips were sucking at your nipples. the hand on your throat prevented you from moaning, even though you both knew that’s what you wanted - he was teasing you now.

he released his grip slightly so his thumb could enter your mouth, and you took the opportunity to moan loudly, circling your tongue around the pad of his thumb and sucking. he pulled off of your nipple with a pop, and when he stood up straight you could feel his dick throbbing through his jeans.

“i want you to fuck me, mase,” you whimpered, muffled from the thumb still in your mouth. “please fuck me.”

his chest was hot against yours and you glanced at the floor, where his t-shirt lay disgarded. mason’s lips kissed along your jawline and he bit at the skin softly, elicting another moan from your mouth.

“i have one request.”

“mhm?”

“wear the jacket.”

he dropped his thumb to your bottom lip, and you curled them up into a soft smile until you pushed his arm away, and pulled him in with your arms around his neck. his hands found the hem of your dress and he pushed it up to your hipbones, and moaned when he realised you weren’t wearing any underwear.

“it was a risk,” you admitted sheepishly while his fingers circled your clit, “but i figured this would end up happening.”

mason chuckled, and continued swirling his finger around your clit, although it didn’t take long before he removed his finger and unbuckled his jeans, and you frowned.

he noticed, kissing your lips as he unzipped the zipper, “i promise we’ll do this properly when we get home but i need to fuck you right now.”

mason’s jeans fell to his knees, and you took a minute to compose yourself before turning around and wiggling your bum for him, elicting a giggle to fall from his lips. both of you chuckled, although the mood changed drastically when he lined himself up with your pussy and pushed himself in without much warning, a bruising hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder.

you moaned loudly, curling your fingers into fists as you pressed them harshly against the wall, your acrylics digging into the palms of your hands and threatening to snap.

“fuck, y/n, you’re so tight for me,” he moaned, the hand that was on your shoulder now gripping at your hair, tugging the strands gently. you could hear the incessant popping of the chewing gum behind you, and turned over your shoulder briefly to see him chewing it as his head arched back slightly, and you moaned loudly again. mason smirked.

“that’s right sweetheart, let them hear you.”

the hand that was on your hip moved down to your bum, slapping both cheeks in quick succession as your hips pushed backwards, the feeling overwhelming but just what you needed. “harder, mase,” you cried after a particularly good slap, “please fuck me harder.”

the jacket was hot on your arms as the heat began to radiate among you both, but mason was getting off on seeing you in his jacket while he fucked you, and so you weren’t going to complain about that. he was grunting as he picked up the pace, pulling your hips closer towards him so you bent down further. the new angle meant he could thrust deeper and you threw your head back as you let out another loud moan at the feeling.

“look at you, such a needy little bitch you couldn’t even wait a few hours,” he rasped, and you felt as if you were going to burst then and there, “insisted that i fuck you here, where everyone can hear us - they’re all listening through the wall and the door, aren’t they?” he asked, pulling on your hair to arch your back up slightly, and all you could do was whimper pathetically. mason tutted, “c’mon baby, you were the one who wanted to be fucked, and now you can’t even make any noise? i thought you wanted to give them all a show.”

you moaned when he slapped you again, the feeling almost becoming too much combined with the sound of the skin slapping, the words he was using and the way he popped his gum.

“mason i’m so fuckin’ close i’m gonna-” your own orgasm cut you off as it rippled through your body, leaving your legs shaking and clit numb, “fuck fuck fuck!” your juices squirted over his chest, and couldn’t help it when you practically screamed out as it happened.

he made a noise of approval and continued fucking you through it, until his own orgasm was triggered, “fuck, y/n!” he grunted, the bruising grip on your hips making an appearance once more as he stilled inside you.

mason pulled out of you carefully, and caught you as your wobbly legs buckled underneath you from shaking. he wiped away the lipstick covering your chin with his thumb, and licked the pad of it to clean up the eyeliner that had smudged on the corner of your eyes. you reached down for your bag and found the small packet of baby wipes you kept for situations like this, and mason took them before cleaning you up and resituating your dress.

“gorgeous,” he beamed, turning you around and pinching your hipbone softly, pressing a kiss to your nose.

it wasn’t long before you heard your friends voices through the door, the giveaway being declan’s belly-laugh, and you both knew you’d been rumbled. four months of casual friends-with-benefits sex was impressive considering the group of friends you shared, but mason knew now that he had to make it official, or else he’d never hear the end of it and regret it forever.

I’M SO SORRY I’VE BEEN AWAY I FEEL LIKE THE WORST PERSON :((( i still have so many requests to fulfill and they will get done even if it kills me, but i’ve been so fuckin busy at the moment and i don’t have the emotional stability to do a whole day of uni and whack a story out. but the requests are in the process of being done, i’m just trying to find a format of how to write them all but i’m so sorry to the anon’s who requested they’re coming out late <333 and the man on your right will be out soon, i’m having the same issue with that where i just don’t like what i’m writing but nonetheless i hope you enjoyed this xxxx

#mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount fluff #football blurb #football smut #football imagine #england blurb #england imagine #mm19 #money mase #mount #my husband <3 #i hope you enjoyed <333 #i'm so sorry i've been away<333

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theacevampire · 2 years ago

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Under The Skin II

Pairing: Kakashi x fem!Reader

Genre: romance, kind of hurt/comfort

Wordcount: ~2.1k

Warnings: none

Track: Vinsmoker, Anthony Meyer – Dancing Thru My Mind

A/N: Thank y'all for the love and support you gave the first chapter! I appreciate every like and every reblog <3

Under The Skin masterlist

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Kakashi’s dull eyes haunted you. Not in a sense that you felt watched or saw him everywhere, but rather whenever you closed your eyes to sleep you saw his Anbu flame before your inner eye or whenever you worked a design for a customer your mind wandered to motives that could cover up the flame or whenever the bell above your door rang you hoped it was him about to tell you he didn’t want the cover-up anymore.

You refused to accept Kakashi’s case as a failure. Whether because of pride, determination or guilt, you couldn’t specify. Probably because of all of the above.

What plagued you the most was the question why someone would even want to get an Anbu flame covered. To your knowledge, the Anbu were a very well-respected force directly under the Hokage’s order. Only the best shinobi were given the opportunity to join, so wasn’t it a sign of honor? Why would someone feel the need to hide it?

Two weeks later, you still couldn’t think of anything else and in a lousy attempt to get your mind off Kakashi and his tattoo, you convinced yourself it was time to clean out all the old files from your office. The tiny room in the back was more of an archive than anything else and filled with racks, which were overflowing with folders to the point they could collapse should anyone put any more weight on them.

During your raid you found old documents, dated years ago – receipts, sketches, letters from thankful customers. You put all the letters to your dad in packing cases you found behind one of the shelves and put the full boxes next to your front desk to take them with you when you would leave. As for the receipts and sketches you were indecisive if it was better to put them in alphabetical or chronological order, however that could wait until you had emptied all the racks and scattered everything on the ground, leaving said ground nowhere to be seen under all the paper, aside from the one spot for yourself to sit down.

Before starting the sorting process, you looked around the room again, scanning the shelves if you had missed anything, and noticed how different the angle from the floor was. While usually the room felt small and narrow, the shelves now seemed to have grown, towering over you and changing the perspective. When you checked the last shelf again, the one in the right corner, you noticed something sticking to the lower three boards.

Careful to not destroy the organized chaos you had just created, you got up and tiptoed over, kneeling on the ground. And sure enough, someone had taped a folded sheet of paper on each of the undersides of the three lowest shelves, so thin and hidden one wouldn’t spot them looking from an upper angle. Your fingers gently removed the tape from the old wood, cautious as to not damage the varnish, and then from the papers before unfolding them. You recognized your dad’s line work and drawing style instantly.

The first paper depicted a crow in front of a waterfall, wings spread and its beak torn open in a screech and a red Anbu flame worked into its stomach and chest, a thin line of what seemed to be uncolored skin separating it from the tattoo’s design. Despite it being only a sketch, the waterfall and the bird’s feathers were incredibly detailed and its visible eye contained some sort of red and black pattern. After years of knowing your dad, these were the parts he intended to do with your family’s special ink, bringing the water and the crow’s feathers to life.

On the second sketch, the pattern of the crow’s eye was pictured bigger. It was a red circle, outlined with a black border. The pattern inside was just as black as the outline and shaped similar to a shuriken with four barb-like corners. Inside was another red circle in the middle which – in turn – had a black dot in its center. Behind the circle, water shot up like a wave breaking at a cliff. And again, the very same flame was worked into the pattern with the very same uncolored bound.

Lastly, the third paper displayed a fan with a blaze in the background. Sketched on the red leaf was a slightly darker ring with three black tomoe circling around a single black dot. This time, the Anbu mark was worked into the fan’s white handle – again separated by an invisible line. But something about the fan struck a chord with you. You could’ve sworn you had seen it before but your brain wouldn’t tell you where or when.

Searching the three concepts for more details or hints, your gaze fell on the initials written lightly with a pencil on the bottom right corners of each sheet. U.I. You took another look at the third design. The fan looked like a symbol... maybe a clan symbol?

Your knowledge of the shinobi world and its clans was limited despite you being a chūnin on paper. Absolving the academy and becoming a genin was a requirement in your family to learn the special technique of tattooing which got passed down from generation to generation. And while you were taught said technique from the cradle, your dad had refused to let you work full-time in his studio until you were fifteen, so you spend the years in between to have an income from completing missions and making it to chūnin just a few months before your dad allowed you to resign from missions and work full-time for him. Therefore, you knew something about everyday shinobi life but coming from a team with neither a well-known sensei nor well-known teammates, you never came into much contact with shinobi politics or the elite, the members of powerful clans, aside from a few stories here and there.

And then it clicked. Uchiha. The fan was the Uchiha’s symbol and the pattern with the tomoe had to be their so called Sharingan. From what you had heard, they used to be a powerful clan, until one Uchiha had eradicated the whole clan in a single night, only leaving his younger, now traumatized brother behind.

Your dad’s words rang in your ears. ‘He was a young man, not even eighteen, whose village had failed him.’ Was he the boy your dad talked about that night? But why would he feel bad for refusing the request of a criminal? You shook your head. They were probably not the same person. Still, what if you...?

Discarding the chaos in the archive, you jumped to your feet and ran over to your front desk and pulled out a few blank sheets of paper and a pen. Quickly, each of the papers had the flame of your recent restless nights in the center. Though your enthusiasm was quickly hushed when a big problem arose. What motives would fit? You knew next to nothing about Kakashi, his life or his preferences.

Someone flicking your forehead made you snap out of it, reminding you where you were. It was Genma. You had totally forgotten about his appointment. Hastily, you stashed your dad’s design under your own sketches, hoping he didn’t see them.

“Is the thing with Kakashi still bothering you? Or has he, perhaps, stolen your heart?”, Genma teased, nodding his head to the sketches in front of you.

With a little shake of your head, you started drawing random lines around one of the flames, in hopes of sudden inspiration. “None of your business, Shiranui.”

“I pay you by the hour and if you charge me for the time you spend lusting over Kakashi, it becomes my business.”

Figuring work would keep you distracted for a while, you got to continue Genma’s tattoo of the Allied Forces headband, a reminder of the beginning of a peaceful era he and his comrades from all shinobi nations had helped create.

Neither of you struck up another conversation, so the only noises in the room were the humming of the air conditioning, the ticking of your clock and the buzzing of your tattoo machine. You cursed yourself internally for forgetting to turn on your radio earlier. Technically it wasn’t silent but it was still quiet enough for your thoughts to drown out all the noise and it was too much for you. You needed a distraction from your thoughts – a good one, since this wasn’t helping.

“Has he told you why he wants it covered?”, you asked. “Isn’t it an honor to be eligible for this special command? After all, only the most capable shinobi are offered a part in the Black Ops, no?” You mentally slapped yourself. This was anything but a distraction – on the contrary, it only added fuel to the dumpster fire that was your mind.

Genma took long enough to answer for you to look up from the motive in front of you. His eyebrows were furrowed, his arm behind his head and his senbon was moving from one corner of his mouth to the other and back again. “Kakashi is... How do I put this nicely? How do I say this without sounding like a jerk?”

“Since when do you care about sounding like a jerk?”

“We’re talking about Kakashi. This man saved my ass more than once. He’s the Hokage. My boss. My friend. You won’t catch me dead talking shit about him.” He clicked his tongue. “Anyway, what I wanted to say is: Kakashi is a good guy who’s been through a lot. I suspect, he’d like to forget his Black Ops era. The Anbu are ruthless. He isn’t. People say he is, but they’re wrong. Knowing him I would say he hates looking at it, hates remembering this part of his life.”

You nodded slowly, understanding, letting Genma’s words sink in. The idea to surround the flame with good prompts, things he liked to remember, grew even more on you. It was a good middle ground between the cover-up you weren’t allowed to do and the nakedness emphasizing the – apparently – horrible memories of the Anbu mark.

Although you still had no idea what exactly to draw around, you figured the solution sat right in front of you. “What do you know about him? What does he like? Are there any things that would make a great tattoo motive?”, you asked, avoiding Genma’s eyes by drawing the character for ‘shinobi’ on the forehead protector on his ribs.

Still, you could see him smirk in the corner of your eye, his twitching senbon attracting your gaze. “You’re really interested in the mystery that is Kakashi Hatake, huh? You like him that much after meeting and talking to him once?”

“I may have a solution that makes both of us happy. It’s not a cover-up but rather I’d add things around the flame, reminders of the good things in his life, representation of his friends or people close to him. And therefore, I need someone who knows Kakashi very well for the details.”

A little surprised, Genma raised an eyebrow. “Like the designs you stashed under your sketches earlier?”

You gulped nervously. “You saw?”

“The Uchiha fan isn’t something that slips a shinobi’s eye and neither is a Mangekyō Sharingan.”

The wording struck a chord with you, pointing out just how out of touch you were with events in the shinobi world since you had quit that life – aside from the war, but that had been something unavoidable. “Guess I’m not shinobi enough”, you joked, covering up the flicker of hurt in your heart. “Anyway. Who can help me figure out the right motives?”

“Lucky for you, I know just the right someone.” With a wink he disappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving you behind in a state of irritation, sitting on your stool, the machine still in your hand.

When Genma had said ‘someone’ , you had expected said person to be him, not a pug he brought when he returned to the studio an hour later. Granted, he also brought two other shinobi with him, who introduced themselves as Iruka and Yamato, but you were too distracted by the dog almost ripping off Genma’s face when he tried to hold him up.

“This is Pakkun. He’s one of Kakashi’s ninken who have known him since his childhood, so he should be an excellent help. Just don’t try to pick him up.”

Pakkun gave him a glare before turning his attention to you. “How can we help you, young lady?”

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi #kakashi hatake #kakashi under the skin #vampire:SSD #vampire:narutoOS

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archduchessofnowhere · 2 years ago

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How do I make my family trees, part 1

Hello, today I bring you my very first attempt at a tutorial. Time ago I made a couple of family trees that showed how different royal couples were related. While I only posted two of these trees (on two different blogs) and then abandoned the project, I always wanted to go back to it, specially since there are a some that I did but never posted.

The trees in question.

The other day I was asked how did I make them, so I thought that this was a great chance to go back to this forgotten project. So more trees are coming. But first, a tutorial of how I made them!

First a disclaimer: while I enjoy making edits I'm not actually super skilled on the art and just managed with the bare minimum edit tools of Pixlr. So this is just how I do it, which is probably not the best way to make these trees. Also I'm not even sure if it is the easiest way lol, but I like making them like this because it gives me a lot of control on how the tree will look like, which genealogy websites do not. Because of Tumblr's image limit this tutorial will be done in two parts.

For this tutorial I'll use a simple first cousins marriage as an example, since this kind of trees only have eight people and therefore are easier to draw. So I'll work with Duke Karl Theodor in Bavaria and his first wife, Princess Sophie of Saxony, who were maternal first cousins.

Let's begin!

1. Do your reasearch.

An obvious first step, I know, but this is absolutely necessary. If you're doing a tree that shows intermarriages then you need to make sure that know exactly how many people will be in your tree, and how they are related to each other. It has happened me that I made the tree and then realized that I missed that two people that were on opposite extremes of the tree were second cousins once removed and now I have to start all over. Almost every royal on Wikipedia has an "Ancestry" section with a mini family tree that goes back like four or five generations, I normally base my trees on that info (because the genealogy enthusiast on the Internet will never let any mistake slide, unlike actual published books). Also a tip: the Spanish version of the Wikipedia articles tend to have bigger trees than the English version. Once you are done, we can move to the next step.

2. Draw your tree (on paper).

This step won't be necessary in our example since it's just an eight persons tree, but if you're doing a bigger one (like the H7 and EoY one) then this step is pretty important. Because trees with a lot of intermarriages are an absolute nightmare to put together if you don't want any lines crossing. So you need to figure out how it will look like before you start editing on Pixlr, otherwise you'll likely end up redoing it many times until you get it right.

Currently I'm working on a big tree that covers tons of marriage, and figuring out how to put it together was legit the hardest part of it. Here is a peak to the last of the many trees I drew, in which I finally managed to make sure no lines crossed (can you guess what is it about?)

As you can see this is just a rough sketch drawn with a pencil on a page of my French notebook. I don't even bother writing the names, this is just to figure out how I'm going to organize these people on the tree. Of course if you don't find this necessary you can skip this step and plan the tree however you like, this is just how I do it.

3. Get the pictures for your tree

I usually just download the person's default profile picture on their Wikipedia page and call it a day lol; but if I can choose I try to choose pictures that depict the people around the time they got married (that's why I chose Ludovika and Max's portraits from their twenties instead of photographs of them at an older age). If the spouses pictures face each other the better, but I don't bother too much if they don't.

My advice is that you download all the pictures you'll use before we can move to the final step of part 1 of this tutorial.

4. Crop the pictures and turn them into PNGs.

Finally, we can start working on Pixlr! Open pixlr.com, the website will give you three different options of editors. I use the simple version, Pixlr X, since these trees don't require many tools.

Now open one of the picture you chose. I chose this photography of Sophie of Saxony, which is both her default Wikipedia profile picture and my favorite picture of her. The first tool we'll need from the side bar is the "Crop & rotate"

Once in there, crop the photo to show only the person's head:

Now with the photo cropped, we can move unto the next tool we'll use: the "Cutout". What this tool basically do is cutting out the background of your picture and leaving only the shape you chose, I use the circle shape.

This is the end result! Now the picture has an oval shape with transparent background. I usually go back to the "crop & rotate" tool and crop the photo again, so it doesn't have that extra empty space.

Save it as a transparent png and it's done! Now you do that with all the pictures you'll use for your tree. I chose a circle shape, but you can use whatever of the other options you want.

Tomorrow, the second and final part of this tutorial in which I actually will show you the trickiest part of the tree making: drawing the tree on Pixlr!

#sorry that I do not actually tell you how I make the trees in this part of the tutorial #second part will be better #tutorial

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years ago

Text

Family Time

good morning/afternoon/evening/night. hope you’re all doing well and staying safe!!!! i have a rowaelin fic that i wanted to post before rowaelin month started since im focusing on those prompts atm

i cant wait to see what everyone has in store for rowaelin month, im very much looking forward to it!

enjoy! :)

1835 words

The day that Aelin had been looking forward to was finally here.

She and Rowan were going to spend a week in their spot in the forest. A week was longer than usual, but it was much needed. Not only had she and Rowan been working extremely hard to the point where they weren't going to bed until the middle of the night, his family was arriving to Orynth to visit for a few weeks in a week and a half.

And not just a few members of his family, almost the entire Whitethorn family was coming, with the exception of a few—namely Sellene, who would be gifting them with personal letters and presents, and those that were too old or just didn't feel like making such a long journey.

Aelin was looking forward to it, to meeting those she hadn't, to hearing others perspectives on Rowan's childhood. Her mate, however...not so much. Rowan was looking forward to catching up with the cousins that he liked, but not so much for the meddlesome ones. He warned her that whatever secrets that people were hiding wouldn't be secrets anymore, that the nosy ones liked to make a game to see who could learn the most secrets.

Aelin admitted that could be a problem, but in his letter, Enda claimed that everyone would be on their best behaviour.

Rowan wasn't entirely convinced. And not just because of that, he was worried that the conversation of when Aelin and Rowan were going to have children was going to be brought up as Rowan had written that they were forbidden from doing so.

Months ago, only several weeks after the war, after a meeting with the Lords and Ladies of Terrasen, Aelin and Rowan came to the decision to wait for a while to have children after Lord Gunnar had brought up the topic of heirs. Aelin could still remember the silence, at her speechlessness of how suddenly it was mentioned. How Rowan had turned to Lord Gunnar and demanded not just to him, but to everyone around them, that it was a private matter between the Queen and himself, and that it was not up for public discussion.

It wasn't a very long conversation—they both wanted to have a family, but Aelin wasn't ready. She was having nightmares from her time with Maeve and Cairn, and throwing pregnancy in the mix just screamed disastrous.

Rowan took her hands in his large warm ones and promised that he would wait for as long as she wanted. Whether it was one year, five years, or one hundred, he would wait until she was ready and willing.

Aelin had never loved him more.

Since then, Rowan was taking a contraceptive tonic. It hadn't taken very long for it to spread around the castle, but neither Aelin or Rowan would let others opinions change their minds.

And it wasn't like they were completely without family. They had their friends and Fleetfoot, with the canine joining them on their week long getaway.

Aelin and Rowan helped the servants set up the Royal tent and the square wooden table where they would be eating and playing chess and card games. There were a few books that Aelin was very much looking forward to reading, too.

Aelin was excited for this week away, to forgo her corsets, dresses, pants and breast-bands. She was determined to stay in Rowan's shirts and her slippers the entire time.

So the moment that everything was set up, the trays of sweet and savoury foods on the table, and the servants and guards were gone, Aelin stripped down to nothing, swaying her hips the way that Rowan liked when she spotted him drinking her in and slipped on one of his shirts and put on her well loved slippers.

Grabbing the picnic blanket from one of the chests, Aelin turned to see Fleetfoot sniffing hungrily at the trays of food, moving closer with each second that passed. Just as she was about to inhale the food, Rowan took the pup out of her misery and feed her a handful of sliced fermented sausage.

Aelin smiled at the sight. Rowan might grumble about the mess Fleetfoot made and how she kept slobbering on his pillow but Aelin knew he loved her—even when she ate his socks.

Aelin set up the blanket and pillows against a thick oak tree, ready for her week of relaxation.

X X X X X X

Aelin's stomach was near to bursting. She hadn't intended to eat that much food, since there was a leg of lamb and chopped root vegetables roasting in the cauldron above the fire, but everything was just too good to have just the once. She ate and ate until there was nothing but crumbs left.

She didn't regret it, however.

She was close to sleeping as Rowan ran a free hand through her scalp as he used the other to read. Her head was on his lap, the sun was warm, and from the happy yips that were coming from the woods, Fleetfoot was having a fun time running around.

Aelin glanced at her husband, his face relaxed as he read his book. And she had no idea why, but she found herself saying: “What would you look like with a beard?”

Rowan blinked, the only surprise he'd show at the question. “Like an old man,” he answered after a moment.

“You are an old man.”

He flicked her ear, and then went back to running his fingers through her scalp. “I grew a beard, once, when I was young. I looked like my father.”

“So you looked very handsome, then.” Rowan had taken up sketching in the quiet moments. He had drawn his parents and they were a very attractive couple. Rowan inherited his fathers hair, eyes, nose and sharp jawline, but got his mother's lips, cheekbones and eyebrows.

They had died long ago, but Aelin would have liked to have met them. Rowan said that they would have liked her, eventually, as he believed that they wouldn't have known what to do with her at first.

Aelin gave Rowan a big smile as the question formed in her mind. And since Rowan knew her so well, he said, “No.”

“You don't even know what I was going to say!” She protested, but it was a lie.

“I am not growing a beard.”

“Please, for me? Just a little one?”

“No.”

“How about some stubble?”

He sighed, exasperated, knowing that there was no point in arguing. “Fine. I'll grow some stubble and that's it.”

“Mm-hmm. Whatever you say, buzzard.”

He sighed again, but there was a small smile on his lips. He returned to his book, and telling her what it was about when Aelin asked. It made her heart swell that her warrior found time to read, as he admitted to her months ago that he never really had the opportunity when he was sworn to Maeve.

Not wanting to ruin today with thoughts of her, Aelin grabbed her own book by her pillow and read, luxuriating in Rowan's warmth and love and in the company of a good book.

X X X X X X

Aelin was losing, but she made sure that the irritation that was coursing through her didn't show on her face. Playing chess with an experience strategist was an absurd idea, but she was determined not to quit.

Rowan had been wanting for her to make her move. Had been waiting for fifteen minutes. Fleetfoot was by her feet, but she was just waiting for the roast lamb to be done.

Five minutes later, Aelin finally made her move. Her eyes flicked up towards Rowan, but his face was stone. He made his move in a blink of an eye. “Checkmate.”

Fire coated her throat as Aelin screeched in frustration, which just made Rowan laugh. Fleetfoot howled and ran off.

Aelin grumbled under her breath as she put away the chess board (for now, they would definitely be playing again once Aelin had more food in her stomach) while Rowan put their dinner on the plates, smiling all the while. Behind him, his mate vowed that she would beat him one day at chess. His smile widened.

Rowan knew that if he said he could beat her even with a blind-fold on, she would go on about how big his head was.

Fleetfoot came back, getting in the way of his feet as he put his and Aelin's dinner down. He gave Fleetfoot the plate reserved for her, using his powers to cool it down, not missing Aelin's soft smile as he did so.

They ate dinner in companionable silence, with Rowan's thoughts on his cousins. He was sure that he wasn't going to get a single thing done while they were visiting. Or if he did, he knew that some of his cousins would want to intrude.

Thinking about it more, he knew that they were going to intrude. Enda had written in-between the lines that there were some cousins that didn't really believe that Rowan was King-Consort and would only believe it once they saw him in action.

That they would actually believe once they saw him in his crown.

And even then, he was sure that there'd be at least one or two that still wouldn't believe it.

Rowan would let them think whatever they wanted about him, it wouldn't matter to him.

Maybe he should have just invited Enda and his mate—but Aelin was looking forward to meeting his family, so he would just deal with it.

It would only be a couple of weeks, possibly three. At best, four, since it was a long journey. He could last.

Rowan could do it, he would just have to block them out if they became too much. He had done that in the past.

“If you keep furrowing your brows like that, they'll replace your eyes,” Aelin said, slathering a fresh slice of bread with butter and running it through the left over gravy on her plate.

Rowan grunted but tried to relax his forehead. It took him a minute longer than it should have.

Later on, they went for a late night swim. Which was slowly turning into something more, up until Fleetfoot jumped into the water with them, saturating them further.

It was the best first day that Aelin could have asked for, and was very much looking forward to the rest of the week.

X X X X X X

Aelin woke up to one of her favourite sights. Rowan shirtless, sleeping on his stomach, his tattooed arm curled around Fleetfoot who slept between them all night. The hounds golden head half on Rowan's pillow, her paws stretching towards Aelin, her furry face soft in sleep.

Smiling, Aelin shuffled closer, and wrapped her own arms around the pup, her fingers just touching Rowan.

Joyful, Aelin fell back asleep, a smile still on her face.

#rowaelin #rowaelin fanfiction

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bxtchforstyles · 4 years ago

Text

You Better

Harry Styles x CEO!Y/N

Harry's girlfriend is the CEO of Gucci, and it is no easy job, but getting to design her boyfriends suits makes it all worth it.

Warning: minor swearing

Word Count: ~1.5k

gif not mine

"Hi baby," Harry was quick to greet her at the door, planting a small kiss to her cheek. "How was work?"

"Long." Y/n sighed as she took her coat off, hanging it on the hook near the door. "Very, very long. never thought I could go to that many meeting in one day."

Harry loved when Y/N came home, and she loved coming home to him. He was an absolute angel to her, especially when she was stressed and annoyed. Always greeting her at the door with kisses, making her dinner, running her a bath. Harry was everything that Y/N dreamed of in a relationship.

"I have a question for you, love."

Y/N nodded as she followed him into the kitchen, seeing there was a large pot on the stove, most like some type of pasta that Harry loved making for her.

She sat down at the island of the kitchen as he went over to the stove to tend to the dinner, looking back at her occasionally. "Ya know how I have the tour for the second album coming up, right?"

She smiled, "Yes I am well aware that Love On Tour will be stealing my boyfriend."

"Well, that leads me to my first question." He takes a step towards the countertop she was sat at, looking across at her. "I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to go on tour with me, or at least the American leg of it.

Y/N smiled even brighter this time, "I would love to go with you! I'm sure I can work something out to where I can work virtually for a couple of months."

He was gleaming with excitement, never being able to experience tour with her the last time around because she didn't have much seniority at her job and didn't want to abuse her power of having a flexible schedule.

"Now, what was your other question?"

Y/N noticed how he almost immediately got nervous when she said that, making her stomach start to sink.

"I don't want you to see me asking you this as rude, or as if i'm using you, because that is definitely not the case whatsoever,"

"Babe, I know that you're not using me." She almost laughed, "what is it that you want to ask me?"

"The last tour, the suits I wore were a large part of my performance, since the fans loved them so much," He was completely rambling now, "and I loved them too, they were amazing. I just wanted to know there was any way-"

She cut him off, already know what he was going to ask. "You want me to design your suits for tour again."

He let out a sigh of relief before nodding.

"Of course I will bub!" She was now the excited one, "I've been waiting for you to ask me, I just didn't want to overstep if you already had picked out a designer."

"Oh thank god." He let out a sigh of relief.

"I've had so many designed that i've put aside for you. Home many shows are there going to be?"

Y/N was a very smart woman, and Harry knew that from the start.

When the two of them first met, it was when Harry had done the Gucci campaign in 2018. Y/N was just an employee at that time, working in the design as well as the management department.

She had been the one to style him for all of his photo shoots for that day, and at the end of, Harry knew he had to see her again.

That's when Gucci offered to design a suit for each one of his tour stops, which he was ecstatic about.

Y/N had been apart of the main design team working on all sixty of the suits, top to bottom. She had always secretly been a little star struck by Harry, always wanting to impress him.

Now though, four years later, they had been dating for almost three years and Y/N was now one of the CEO's at Gucci.

Her dream.

Some people thought that the only reason Harry got special promos, suits and other things of the sort was because his girlfriend had such an important role in the business. But what they didn't know, was that everyone in the entire Gucci enterprise work team loved Harry.

"Can i see some of them?" He asked, speaking of the designs she had mentioned.

She immediately got up out of her seat at the barstool she was sat in, trekking quickly towards the foyer to retrieve her work bag. She pulled out her design binder, where all of the pictures of the modeled suits were.

She set the large binder in front of him on the counter, "Now, I know that most of these drawers are on female models, but please, keep an open mine."

"When do I not?" He sent a smirk at her before opening the binder.

The couple spent the next couple of hours looking at all of the suits that Y/N had sketched, deciding what on the designs to keep, and what parts needed to be reconfigured.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Baby, I love how you look in pearls. They make your eyes shine." She gleamed as she walked into Harry's fitting room in her designing room.

"I really like this, actually." He told her, before attempting to adjust the suit jacket.

She took over, "Here, let me." He fixed the Jacket and the collar before directing him back towards the large mirror.

"Perfect." She stated.

"I really love it."

Y/N was over the moon looking at her boyfriend, seeing the many visions she had of the suits she designed for him come to life. The black suit jacket was lined with pearls, along with some pretty gold buttons that laid against Harry's torso.

She was smiling from cheek to cheek. "I'm really glad, hopefully you like all the suits I've designed for you."

That's when Harry turned around to walk into her office, immediately stopping in his tracks as soon as he entered. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, wondering what he was looking at.

Until she herself walked in her office behind him, then she knew exactly what he was looking at.

"Please tell me that one is for me." His pleasing eyes were already begging her.

In the center of her room, was a standing mannequin, covered in a dark purple suit, covered in pink and silver rhinestones.

"Um-"

He widened his eyes, grabbing his girlfriend by the shoulders dramatically. "Y/N, angel, I will literally pay you however much you want if i can have this suit."

It was in fact not meant to be for Harry, but looking at his face, Y/N didn't think she could ever say no to him.

"You don't have to fucking pay me for it, Harry." She laughed at her boyfriend's offer, but he only narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

"But I will."

"I don't want you to." She protests back before beginning to take the suit jacket off of the standing mannequin. "Let's see if this even fits."

As soon as she put the jacket on him, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Fits like a glove." Y/N smiled, adjusting the buttons on the suit.

"Okay, you have to give this to me now." Harry looked at himself in the mirror hung on the wall of her office.

"I'll see what I can do."

He sat down on the couch that was sat against the wall, opposite of Y/N's office. "Who was it originally for anyway?"

She sat on her desk, facing her boyfriend. "Well, it was supposed to be for Justin Bieber, he wanted a suit for the Met Gala that matched Hailey's, but i'll figure something out."

"Oh my-" He gasped in shock at the fact he was wearing a suit that was intended to be warm by Justin Bieber. "Wait," He then started.

"What now, Harry?" Y/N rolled her eyes playfully.

"You're telling me my girlfriend is the CEO of Gucci, and i've never got to wear a cool matching suit with her? What the fuck is that about?"

"Ya know, I usually don't have the time to make myself a fancy dress to match Mr. I want a bright red suit that is entirely covered in hand sewn crystals."

"Oi! You have to admit that suit was one of the best I've ever worn!" Her boyfriend protests.

"One of them? It was the best!" She shoots back with a hint of shock in her tone. "Anyways, maybe I'll design us some fancy matching suits for when my insanely talented boyfriend sweeps the Grammys."

"Holy shit, I love you." He gasps as he plants his lips against here.

Y/N smiles into the kiss, "You better."

AUTHORS NOTE:

i hope you enjoyed, please send any requests that you have and I will try to respond to them asap!! thank you for reading! TPWK<3 xoxo- hails

#harry styles x y/n #harry styles x ofc #harry styles blurb #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles blog #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #harry styles #ceo! y/n

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