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liyuesbian · 3 years

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✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

#ningguang #ningguang au #ningguang angst #ningguang x reader #ningguang headcanons #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin headcanons #genshin au #pygmalion au #ningguang imagines #genshin imagines

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royalcordelia · 4 years

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This Bed of Recall and Recollections (1/1)

Summary: Most of the time, it’s convenient to have your husband as your doctor, except for the times he condemns you bedrest. A very pregnant Anne decides to open her chest of old memories to pass her bedrest time. (A future shirbert drabble).

Notes: Happy belated holidays @cresmix! Here’s a little somethin’ somethin’ for you because you and your kind heart deserve it. This was a request that @shirberts-sherbert came up with, so thank you for the idea. (Also y’all follow me because I write well, not because I photoshop well, but I gave it 110%. Even if it does look a lil funky lmao).

***

Anne knew there were bright sides to her current situation. The bed was impossibly soft underneath her, but stiff enough to support her weight against the headboard. She didn’t have to wear shoes in bed, either - an added plus. Just the thought of jamming her swollen toes into her dainty slippers as she had during the past several months had her cringing.

You were given your imagination for times like these, she scolded herself. There are plenty of lovely things about being on bedrest. Why, I’ve had time to read all the books on my list, and then some! A bitter voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she’d read all the books on her list already - twice, some of them three times! Gilbert promised to bring home some new reading material soon, but he’d been so busy at his medical practice, that she’d long since stopped asking if he bore her any surprises.

Now there’s a bright side worth thanking the Lord for, she decided. Not every woman, exhausted with the many weights of pregnancy, got to have her husband as her doctor. Anne argued that Gilbert was better attuned to her symptoms than any of his patients. Perks of sharing a bed with him, she supposed. There was no husband around with more compassion and love for his ever-glowing wife, even with the unpleasant oddities it brought to their relationship.

But it also meant that when her blood pressure had spiked to dangerous heights, Gilbert had said with very firm stringency that Anne S. C. Blythe - Queen of Conquering Obstacles and Goddess of Fortitude - was condemned to bedrest. At least until the new member of the house arrived. When the decree had been made, Anne was wise enough not to argue.

“Every time a man speaks like he’s got a sour cranberry on his tongue, it means he means business,” said Susan, their beloved housekeeper, to Mrs. Doctor Dear later that night. “And that you may tie to.”

Anne knew her husband better than that, though. Gilbert’s word, of course, did mean business, but she knew that a tiny part of him still held onto a poisonous drop of guilt. Susan might have claimed to know the Doctor better than most, but Anne was the one that Gilbert laid his head upon, weeping into her chest that it was his fault their first baby had died. If I had just paid better attention...There must have been something I missed. How could I? My own daughter? Not even Anne’s softest touches through his hair or the honesty of her own unnecessary forgiveness could take away all of his remorse. When she’d informed him of their second chance, he’d been even more attentive than he’d been the first time.

Thus, Anne was growing into a prisoner in her own bed. Her loving, caring husband, her jailor.

With a sigh, Anne turned her gaze toward the window. Her soul sighed. It was golden hour, the most beloved time of day, when the PEI sun took a few moments out of its busy day to say hello to her. It always looked so sweet over the garden, the early spring buds glistening as if they had been touched by Midas himself. Against the bedposts, Anne tried to imagine the soft moss underneath her fingers or the richness of the soil of her flowers, but the mental image fell flat.

Her window, though...Her window was only a few feet away from the bed. If she could just take a glimpse at the garden, maybe her heart wouldn’t feel so starved.

The coolness of the floor felt wonderful underneath her heat swollen feet. With a careful hand behind supporting her back, Anne gently rose up for the first time in days. Her vision swirled, but she ignored the momentary vertigo and began to creep forward with astonishing stealth. If Susan heard her up on her feet, there’d be hell to pay, especially when Gilbert got home. Just as Anne was able to take a self-indulgent glance at her garden, a familiar voice broke through the bird-song silence.

“Sweetheart, what on earth are you doing up?”

Anne jolted, and she staggered like a drunken fool for balance. Gilbert was at her side before she could see him fly over to her, one hand in hers to keep her steady, the other against her back. She could sense a scolding on the tip of his tongue, but he bit his lips against it as he guided her back to bed. Settling at the edge of the bed together, Gilbert rubbed her knuckles with a tender touch.

He could’ve begun his love-driven admonishment, but instead, he said, “A parcel came from Green Gables today. I stopped in town to pick it up.”

Just the mention of home was enough for some of the weight on her shoulders to dissipate. Her gaze drifted from the wrapped box at the end of the bed back up to the hazel warmth of Gilbert’s eyes. He gave her his daily “ I’m home” kiss and helped her shift back into her perch on the bed against the headboard.

“I know that bedrest isn’t the most stimulating activity in the world, so I asked Marilla to send this,” Gilbert continued, placing the parcel in her lap.

“What is it?” Anne asked, though she had already started tearing the brown paper away. She gasped when she found the wooden box underneath, fingers grazing over the grained smoothness. “It’s the box I kept when we were in college.”

“I remembered you had a memory box, but you never told me what was in it. I hoped whatever was inside, it could be enough to convince you to sit in bed.”

Anne lifted the lid away and the contents of box overflowed onto her lap.

“It’s so full because I kept every single letter you sent me over four years. But there’s some sketches from when I asked Cole to teach me how to draw. Oh, and look, a few pictures too.”

Gilbert settled at her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“If it’s every letter I sent you in college, that’s more reading than all of the Jane Austen books put together. We better start now if we want to finish by the time our new gentleman arrives.”

Right on time, Susan rapped against the door with her elbow, a tray of tea and biscuits in her hands.

“I put the tea on the stove as soon as the doctor came home. These are the last of the biscuits you like, Mrs. Doctor, but I’m baking more tomorrow. And there’s a piece of my cherry pie for you, Dr. Dear.”

Anne grabbed Susan’s hand before she could walk away, and pressed a firm kiss to it.

“You’re a blessing untold, Susan, thank you.”

When they were alone again, Anne grabbed the first thing she could find: a letter. The bluish hue of the envelope and the familiar scrawl told her what she already knew. This letter had been one of the later ones she’d received during their fourth year of college. The blue envelopes had been Gilbert’s way of trying out professional stationary, and each letter was monogrammed at the top with the initials GJB. As for the nearly illegible scrawl of her name and address, that was a bad habit he’d picked up from his medical professors.

“When did I send that one?” he asked, peeking over from his own reading.

“The April of 1904. I remember it without even needing to check.”

It took a moment, but Gilbert suddenly remembered what the letter said. He could picture exactly what his desk and room looked like the day he wrote it with the clarity of a photograph. Long lost in fireplace ash, there were several burned attempts that had come before the finished product that Anne know held in her hands.

“This is a question I had every intention of asking in person, but I find my patience has evaporated with the months our of separation,” Anne read softly. “Say that there was a velvet pouch in my pocket. Say that it contained a peridot ring that my mother once bore on her own hand. (Breathe, darling, I’m not proposing over correspondence. What I mean to ask is - ) Would you find yourself open to the idea of wearing it in the foreseeable future? If there was a fellow who had a question to ask - a plead, a beg really - would you be ready to answer the next time you saw him?”

The ring of his tender descriptions now rested on Anne’s hand, a little tight with her swollen fingers, but still glistening and lovely just the same. Gilbert took the hand and pressed a kiss to the stone that his father had chosen for his mother, the same stone that was a perfect green on his redheaded wife.

“Do you remember what I replied?” she asked, nuzzling her cheek against his touch.

“Not exactly,” Gilbert admitted with a fond smile. “I think as soon as I read your response, my entire brain stopped functioning and I all but floated around Toronto for the next month.”

Her shoulders shook against him as she chuckled.

“What’s that you’re looking at?” Gilbert revealed the journal that had been placed in his lap. Its leather was the same color as Anne’s girlhood horse, Belle and was tied around the middle with a strap. “Ah, the proof of my stint with art.”

“You were genuinely talented!” Gilbert argued. To prove his point, he flipped open the sketchbook to one of the middle pages. “This one is my favorite.”

Of course it was, she thought with an amused smirk. He had skipped over the pages where she’d sketched pink carnations - briefly wondering if he recognized they were the ones he’d brought her during one of his visits - and focused on the page where Anne had drawn one of the Blythe-Lacroix apples.

“Anne Blythe, Gilbert S. C. Blythe…” he read with interest. “If I didn’t know better, Mrs. Blythe, I’d say you were in love with me!”

“Oh, be quiet. If I didn’t doodle my feelings like an infatuated schoolgirl, I’d have dropped out of Queen’s and transferred to Toronto.”

“You wouldn’t have found arguments from me,” Gilbert said with a shrug.

Anne nudged him with her elbow, but kept flipping through the box with interest. Mostly, she found letters. To his delight, it seemed that not a single one had been lost over time. Each one was a treasure, and she’d treated them as such. Some of his more romantic ones appeared to have more wear, as if she’d found them in her hours of loneliness and reread the words in his voice. There were tear smudges, small rips in the corners, memories of smiles, and residual pining that never actually went away. Some of Gilbert’s later letters admitted the way he’d desired her, craved her touch and counted the days before he could love her in the ways he was meant to as a man. It made Anne glad that Marilla had always respected her privacy. If Rachel Lynde had read those letters and found Gilbert Blythe longing to kiss the soft skin of Anne’s breast, she likely would’ve shipped the young girl to France or England herself.

Lost in her amusement, Anne almost didn’t hear Gilbert sigh beside her. He held an old photograph in his hands, one that she groaned at the sight of. She’d sat for several portraits during her lifetime, but never before did she feel as unattractive as she did in the one he held.

“I ought to have just thrown that in the fire,” she commented. He gaped at her in surprise.

“What do you mean? Why have I never seen this one?!” he exclaimed. His eyes roved over the picture, and suddenly he felt like the eighteen-year-old boy losing his breath at the sight of her. In the portrait, Anne wore a demure, neutral smile on her lips and wine red blossoms behind her ear. And her hair ...Gilbert suspected that if Aphrodite or Hera were really out there, they envied the ocean waves of her auburn hair. “Anne, this is breathtaking.”

Anne paused before finally answering in a rush. “I originally planned to send it to you because you’d been asking for one, and I know how much you like my red hair so I asked the man to hand color for me.”

“I think he did a fine job!” Gilbert added, still confused.

“He did a fine job commenting on my hair, too,” Anne stated bitterly. “He said he never saw such salmon hair in all his years. Salmon, Gilbert. There was no way I could send the picture after that.”

Gilbert laughed heartily at this, shaking his head at the stubborn rage of his beautiful, impeccable wife.

“Well, darling, what’s mine is yours, and what’s yours…” He snatched the picture from her hands and stuffed it inside his jacket pocket. “Is mine! I’ll be holding onto this in my own memory box.”

Anne might’ve argued, but he rose from the bed with a kiss to her forehead. In any other circumstances, she would have followed him until she could reclaim what was hers, but that would’ve involved rising like Christ from her bed. If she owed her husband anything after all the years he’d stayed loyal through her stubbornness and her flares of anger, it was to heed his word and remain in bed.

Still, with him gone, she missed his warmth and wondered if she might convince him to sit beside her just a little longer.

“You need to eat, my love,” he concluded. “I’m going to go help Susan with dinner. Drink some tea, alright? You need to be sure you’re drinking enough fluids.”

“I’m hydrating for two, I know.”

Right before he disappeared out of the room, he let his eyes linger on her - the loveliness of her white bed gown, the sunlight on her hair, the loving glint in her warm blue gaze. He could taste the words on the tip of his tongue, hundreds of I love yous that he could mutter with all the breath in his lungs. Instead, he exhaled a shaky breath and said, “Let me know if you find anything else of interest.”

Anne nodded with a smile, finally looking the most comfortable she’d been in days. She reached back down to the very bottom of the box and pulled out the oldest letter she it contained.

“My Anne, I cannot think of a more wonderful way to start a letter…”

#anne of green gables #anne with an e #shirbert #shirbert fic #shirbert edit #tessa writes #catch this on ao3 too!#i mentioned this on ao3 but the last line is from my other fic #which tickles me PINK

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ladyadalicialove · 4 years

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Me, says I will be on hiatus and probs won’t post anything cus exams and essays

Also me: procrastinating very hard

Don't mind me just salty about the new episode and what not...also I don’t want to finish my essay.

Anyway since Chat Blanc was basically fanservice that served no significant purpose to the plot of the show other than "what if" scenarios. I've decided to share some AUs to put some good wholesome content back into the fandom.

Also I need to write these things down before I forget....

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Previous Holder is now your Babysistter AU

(I don’t have an actual name for it lmao suggestions?)

I’ve had this one in head for a couple of months now. The premise of this AU is the miraculous doesn't just come with the Kwami but a ghost/apparition of the previous holder. Unlike the kwami's they aren't what makes the suit or have any magical abilities. Rather they are just glorified babysitters, looking after and guiding the new holder the best they can. Some are some magical rules with them though:

Only the miraculous holder and thier Kwami can see them, when they are still in their civilian forms.

They don’t disappear when the holder transform.

When other miraculous holders are transformed they can see other holder’s apparition, but when they undo the transformation they can no longer see them.

The holders and kwamis can touch them as if they were real, but they phase through everything and everyone else.

I liked the idea of the holders prior to Marinette and Adrien being a pirate and a sailor who fell madly in love. They unfortunately died together and never had kids so when they came back as “mentors” for two lovesick teens they adopt them so quickly.

Adrien gets Captain Noir, the most ferocious and seductive pirate of the seven seas! And she absolutely adores Adrien and quickly assumes a motherly role in his life. The captain doesn’t like that he is alone in the mansion and gives every second of her attention to him. She calls him her "big kitten" and tries to ruin Gabriel's day every second she can. She also despises Nathalie but tolerates Gorilla.

Marinette gets Commander Bug, a stoic and ever so suave solider of his majesty's Royal Navy. He is very chill and helps Marinette to calm down when she starts acting up. Since he is a high ranking soldier, he often assists Marinette in creating strategies to defeat villains in both her hero and civilian life. Tbh he is a very reliable guy and very sweet.

Honestly the two of them basically become parents to the two lovesick teens... and I imagine the story would literally be them ready to throw hands with Gabriel and Lila. Commander bug though ever so serious, meets Lila and immediately takes on the Captain Noir’s more... vulgar traits.

Commander Bug: Hey Marinette *nudges her* Dead men tell no tales. 😎 *makes obscene gesture towards Lila*

Marinette: FOR THE LAST TIME IM NOT MURDERING LILA

Tikki: no wait maybe he has a point

Captain Noir: Ye really need to scupper that deadbeat father of yours off the side of this building. Hey Plagg, do ye think I can take custody of Adrien??

Adrien: I’m not throwing my father off the building!! He can be nice!!

Captain Noir: Oh no ye have Stockholm syndrome... maybe I can cure it with some rum?? That always helped the new sailors who were home sick! 😱

Adrien: oh my god I’m only fourteen 😦

Plagg: *laughing hysterically* at least you can drink your woes away!!! 😂🤣

And yes they both like the Couffaines mainly because they live on a boat.

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The Mythical Miraculous AU:

I wrote and planned this one before it was revealed there are multiple miraculous boxes. So in this universe let’s just say that the events of feast never happened. Prior to the “episode” Fu relinquishes guardianship and loses his memories. Let’s say there is no sentimonster that caused the downfall of the monks but rather Fu causing the temple to burn down another way. How? Maybe he left a torch unsupervised and burned the place down. Why? Idk that’s just how it’s happening now.

Anyway this AU stemmed from doing so many OC drawing requests in January. And I created seven miraculous OC's whose kwamis/concept are based on the seven virtues. They are also all based on mythical creatures.

In the story I imagined that Marinette is 17 and was giving guardianship over the miracle box some time ago. One day while messing around with it, she discovers that underneath the ying and yang centre piece there was cyclinder compartment that contained a parchment. Unrolling it had printed on it six locations along with the name of the miraculous associated.

Tikki informs her of the seven miraculous that were created as backups if the the miracle box or miraculous’ were ever stolen, lost, destroyed etc. Basically the last resort. Thus they needed to be kept out of the miracle box and in the world and always ready to defend. Hence they were given to families across Europe/Asia who promised their loyalties to the miraculous cause.

Marinette decides since it’s summer break and she isn’t busy, to find each of them and get them to help in the fight against Hawkmoth. Tikki just rolls with it.

In no particular order these are the mythical miraculous and their holders:

London, UK ~ The Unicorn and Pegasus Miraculous of Kindness and Humility: They are currently owned by 12 year old British Twins, Iris and Ivy. They come from a rich family and only recently acquired the miraculous from their father and uncle. Ivy is all about sports and is extremely athletic, Iris prefers to read and paint. Apollo is Ivy’s kwami and he is a white unicorn, and Artemis is Iris’ kwami and is a black pegasus. The miraculous are anklets.

Sovana - Tuscany, Italy ~ The Ogre Miraculous of Charity: Currently owned by Raphael, a 21 year old Italian guy studying Archaeology. He lives out in the Italian countryside with his parents and many siblings, he has a big family who owns a huge block of farmland. He is super kind and very charitable and received his miraculous from his Nonna. Orc is Raphael’s kwami and he is a selfish little bastard but he is huggable. The miraculous is a belt buckle.

Nice, Paris ~ The Pooka Miraculous of Diligence: Currently owned by Colette, a 25 year old French girl who is busy teaching six year olds, she doesn’t have any family as she was orphaned as an infant. She has always had her miraculous as she was left at the orphanage with it. She was unfortunately never adopted out, but she is extremely motivated individual with big dreams. Cinna is Colette’s kwami, she is quite lazy and often called Cinna-bun. The miraculous is a hair clip.

Kazan, Russia ~ The Phoenix Miraculous of Chastity/Abstinence: Currently owned by Orion, a flamboyant and arrogant 30 year old. He is extremely beautiful and a very proud man, and most would think he is a bit of a f*ckboi but nope. He is just saving himself for the right person. His father gifted him the miraculous when he was 15. Newborn is Orion’s kwami, and she is little b*tch and very stuck up. The miraculous is an armband.

Nazareth, Israel ~ The Griffin Miraculous of Patience: Currently owned by Nevaeh, a 16 year old revolutionist and active feminist. She has big ideas and big dreams that she hopes with enough dedication and patience she can achieve. Unlike the others, she received the miraculous from her dying neighbour, who was an old man in his nineties who had no children. Nevaeh may not be an intended holder but she is a brilliant one! Constance is Navaeh’s kwami, she is extremely wise and a soft speaker. The miraculous is a thumb ring.

Seoul, Korea ~ The Sea Serpent Miraculous of Temperance: Currently owned by 19 year old aspiring pop singer Levi. Levi is extremely shy and laid back, he tends to be soft-spoken and polite.Often he dreams of being an Idol but his shy personality isn’t doing him any favours. His older brother was originally the miraculous holder but instead of accepting any potential responsibility he dumped it onto him. It was originally gifted to his brother by their mother. Sai is Levi’s kwami, he is extremely skittish and is just riddled with anxiety over the belief of the world ending. He is a bit of a conspiracy theorist. The miraculous is a fin pendant necklace.

Of course Marinette in three months convinces them all to go to Paris and stay there until the defeat of Hawkmoth.

During her travels and time with them, she unravels the mysterious of these seven miraculous and their history. What are their abilities? Why do they specifically correlate with the seven virtues? How powerful are they?

Ivy and Iris stemming from a rich family, rent out a lovely penthouse for the seven of them in Paris. Colette decides to be the legal guardian of the minors since she actually is French. Orion decides he is gonna be a dick. The rest are there for a good time and to kick a buterrfly's butt. And thus ensue chaos, pranks, romance and a whole lotta arguing.

I can only imagine all the kwami’s and Marinette sitting, drinking green tea while watching these seven holders become absolute hooligans.

I already drew up concept art of them but they are not good sketches so yeah maybe I will show you guys another time.

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Idk why I think this but I just figured everyone would hate AUs like this so I don’t bother posting these ideas especially if they are not fleshed out. I have so many but these are my most promising ones.

The previous holder AU is one of my favourites because I had Captain Noir and Commander Bug’s story in my head forever. I love me some pirates. I know their whole miraculous story, like how they fell in love and why she became a pirate etc. The part where they become ghost mentors is a fairly new addition, been rolling it around for a month now and it is 100% caused by the shitty parenting via la agreste.

The mythical miraculous one is extremely fun for me, but it was one of those AUs were I believed no one would like it so....yeah enjoy it?

If you wanna know more about each one send me an ask or send names suggestions!!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #mlb #marinette dupain cheng #marinette #adrien agreste #miraculousau #previous holder au #mythical miraculous au #adrien gets a good parental figure #this is me procrastinating #ml season 3

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jisungsmochi · 6 years

Text

wherever you are - m.l part one

summary; based off the song by 5sos, mark is an aspiring idol. you convince him to audition for SM, even if it meant leaving you behind. but could your love conquer it all?

- shitty summary i know but just try and enjoy this ok, this song gets me emo

- also lowkey tried to find a gif to fit the mood of the imagine but failed lmao

- first time attempting proper angst so yah sorry if it sucks

- word count: 2.2k

—

for a while we pretended,

that we'd never have to end it

but we knew we'd have to say goodbye

"hey Mark!" you exclaimed while wrapping your arms around Mark's torso. you were both standing outside the school gates, ready to walk home together. he smiled at you brightly, pulling you to his side while beginning to walk. you stayed like that for a while until you spoke up,

"how was your day? i didn't get to see you much" you pouted, causing him to look down at you.

"it was good! i was discussing some music stuff with my teacher that's all" he rubs the back of his neck, you sensed there was something more.

"mhm okay, have you thought about he audition yet?" you regretted asking because that question lead to Mark stopping you both in the middle of the sidewalk.

a few weeks ago you had suggested that Mark audition for SM entertainment in Korea. you knew he had the talent and skills to get into the company, you believed in him whole heartedly. but once you told Mark, he got really tense and couldn't understand why you'd potentially want him to leave you. it wasn't your intention to make it out that way, you just wanted what would be best for him, but he didn't understand. you had an argument about it, but decided to push it away, only for it to be resurfaced at this point in time.

"why do you care so much about that?" he sighed, not trying to show that he was actually getting quite irritated.

"i just want what's best for you" you bowed your head to look at your shoes, unable to make eye contact with him.

"i know you do, but i want to stay here and be with you and go to university together" he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear, trying to get you to look at him.

"but what if we don't even go to the same university, Mark? you can't keep adjusting your life choices so they align with mine." you sighed, afraid of his reaction.

"y/n, how can you say that? is it bad that i want to stay with you? that i actually want us to work?" he started getting even more irritated with you at this point.

"of course i want to be with you, more than anything. but we have different paths in life we want to take. this could be your last chance to show everyone how talented you are. i want you to evolve, even if it means i won't be there" you bit your lip after the last part, regretting your choice of words.

"so what? is this the end of us?" you looked him right in the eyes by now. his eyes were watery, you saw as one tear rushed down his cheek. you wiped it away slowly with your thumb before holding his hands in yours.

"this is not the end of us. i want you to figure out what you want, and i will support you. but i really want you to consider your options. if it's meant to be, nothing will come between us" you assured him, rubbing your thumb slightly along his palm. he nodded gently, before continuing to walk with you. you weren't sure of what the future held, but atleast you had him now.

you were crying at the airport,

when they finally closed the plane doors,

i could barely hold it all inside

he held you tightly. almost too tight, but you didn't care. he was leaving for korea. you both knew he would have been able to make it, and he did. you were beyond proud of him, and he was so thankful to have you support him.

"i'm going to miss you so much" you mumbled into his chest, letting the tears fall, staining his shirt.

"i'm going to miss you too babe, i promise i will make you proud" he softly ran his hands up and down the side of your arms to calm you down. this is what he wanted. this is what he decided. and you couldn't go against that. but why did it feel so painful to see him leave?

Mark didn't cry. he didn't want you to see him break down because he knew he would run back into your arms. as his flight was being called, you held onto his hand tighter than ever before.

"don't forget me, Mark Lee. or i swear i'll come and beat your ass" you joked behind tears, wiping them in frustration.

"i could never forget you even if i tried" he gave a small smile before kissing the back of your hand, pulling you up from the seats and walking to the boarding area.

you still held onto his hand, soaking up his presence for as long as you could. he didn't stop admiring you, even though you were a complete mess at this moment, he still thought you were breathtaking.

"babe, i have to go now. i'll update you on everything! come and visit when school finishes okay? remember, i love you, always and forever" (gosh i totally ripped this off one tree hill sorry my dudes)

you nodded softly, before kissing him. this kiss felt different. it was filled with more emotion than any other kiss you two had shared. as you pulled away, your hands finally detached, his smile faded as he turned his back towards you and boarded the plane. he didn't want to show you that he was upset. that was just him though. as soon as he took his seat on the plane, the tears couldn't stop flowing out. his heart ached at the thought of leaving you, but he knew what he had ahead of him. he knew who he wanted to be, and that's all you had wanted for him.

torn in two,

and i know i shouldn't tell you but

i just can't stop thinking of you

wherever you are

as weeks went on, Mark would update you on his journey in korea. he would send you multiple photos of him doing weird poses near different scenery. he also told you about some of the new friends he's made, as well as how busy his schedule is. you planned to visit him one day, but you were just beginning your own journey through university and it didn't seem ideal for you to go at this moment. you would always update Mark on how you were doing, with fitting in and the work load you would receive.

you laid in bed one night, staring up at your ceiling in your new dorm room. you had multiple stuffed animals lined up beside you, most of them being gifts from Mark. you took one into your arms gently and sighed. you missed him, a lot. he also missed you. you were unsure of how things would unfold, but you had hope that you would be reunited soon. before shutting your eyes, you visioned Mark’s arms being wrapped around your torso, before drifting off to sleep.

[ 3 months later ]

you were well suited into the university lifestyle. you had memorised your time tables and different activities you signed up for. you also made some new friends, one of your best friends as of now, named Renjun. you had met him while you were walking on the streets, looking for a nice place to eat at. he was sketching some trees near a park, and by chance, you happened to observe his drawings. he sat alone, different materials spread out in front of him. you had a spare donut from your little food trip, so you offered it to him, while starting up a conversation.

you and renjun had been inseparable by then. you told him almost everything, especially about Mark.

you and Mark had been talking less frequently, his training had taken up a large portion of his time, pushing you out of the picture.

"hey y/n, are you alright?" Renjun asked while spinning on his chair at his desk. you were both studying in his room, but it consisted mainly of Renjun blasting music while you scrolled through stuff on your phone.

"y-yeah, just thinking i guess" you shrugged, playing with your fingers.

"thinking about Mark?" he sighed, knowing the distance had finally gotten to you at this point. he walked over to your space on the floor and sat beside you.

"yeah, it's just that, i want to call him! and tell him about everything! but he's just so busy and i don't want to bother him anymore than i already do" you groan, putting your head into your hands, an uneasy feeling surfacing your stomach.

"don't say that, i'm sure he wants to call you just as much!" Renjun tried to cheer you up by patting your shoulder softly, maybe he was right.

"it's not that, i'm just scared. i'm scared that he might have lost feelings for me or just doesn't want to see me anymore!" you let out a sigh, unable to express your feelings any further.

"y/n, i want to be honest here. nothing lasts forever, and nothing really stays the same. but if you feel like you have done your part in the relationship, then that's the best you could do! and that should be enough" Renjun laid his hand gently on your shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.

you looked up at him and gave him a sorrow smile, your eyes almost running with tears.

"i guess we'll have to find out what happens next" you sniffle a bit before packing your stuff and heading for his door.

"good luck, you know i'm always here for you" he smiled at you nervously before opening the door for you to leave.

once you had arrived at your dorm room, you dropped your bag onto the floor and slumped your body into your bed. your finger hovered over Mark’s contact name, unsure if you were ready for the confrontation. you needed closure, you needed to set things straight. you needed to stop worrying.

after almost five rings, Mark finally picked up. you could hear some discussions in the background, assuming he was practicing.

"uh hey y/n, what's up?" he spoke, sounding surprised, as expected.

"we need to talk, now." you sternly demanded, not caring if he was busy.

"but i'm kinda busy at the moment, can we just do this another time?" he tried to hurry you along, which you found almost disrespectful.

"when will that be? another three months? i'm sick of it, Mark. i'm sick of the half assed replies, i'm sick of the miscommunication, i'm sick of this distance!" you begin getting aggravated , shuffling around your bed. you heard him move to a quieter area as the noise was blocked out.

"where is this all coming from? i am putting in effort !" he retorted back at you, with a slight touch of disgust in his voice.

"you really don't get it, do you? it's not even about effort anymore! it's about us. and our feelings. i don't even know how you feel about me anymore, and that's what's hurting the most" you sounded small at this point, your voice lowering.

"how about you stop blaming me for everything? i feel different okay? things are different between us right now, and it's both our faults" he was beginning to get agitated himself now.

"it is both our faults, it's our fault, thinking that this would work." you muttered, frustrated tearing now pouring from your eyes.

"what are you saying? you want to break up?" his voice now sounded fragile. as if one more harsh comment would absolutely shatter him.

"you suggested it. i guess that's been on your mind" you mumble, not caring if he heard you at this point.

"y/n, i think that would be ideal right now. you're busy, i'm busy. we don't have time anymore. it would be for the best" he sighed heavily, his breath projecting to your side of the call.

"fine. if that's how this really is going to go down, i'm over it. don't bother contacting me after this, goodbye mark" the last two words were almost projected in a hostile manner. you didn't intend for it to come out as aggressive, but your emotions were over bearing, it seemed like the right thing to say.

after you hung up the call, you tossed your phone to the side and stared at the ceiling. your tears had somehow stopped by then, you held the same stuffed animal in your arms from many nights ago.

"i'll still be thinking about you, wherever you are"

—

A/N; Y’ALL CAN BET THERES GONNA BE A PART TWO, pls give me requests or feedback, idk. i’d just like my inbox to not be dry okay !!! thank you !!!

#mark lee #mark lee imagine #nct #nct imagine #nct scenario #angst #nct mark #nct mark imagine #nct dream #nct 127 #nct u #nct 127 imagine #nct dream imagine #nct u imagine

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maiji · 6 years

Photo

Process and wip images for A House That Holds Long Limbs (Part 2)

See Part 1 process and wip documentation

Read the pages for part 2 here (full complete version will be linked from YYH North Bound master post)

As a story progresses, I tend to become more comfortable with jumping ahead and around in my so-called process. This is mainly because the idea of getting deeper into the action is exciting and I want to get to drawing the pages as quickly as possible. The downside is that it usually results in a lot of “oops” and rework on what was supposed to be a final page.

Here you’ll see that script/pagination/thumbnailing and final pages are all starting to drift even more than in Part 1.

The (last version of the) script

Earlier versions were even more point form and incoherent with typos. But, it only needs to capture enough that I can recognize key actions, points of dialogue, the mood, things to draw in the panels, etc. A few specific items to point out:

“[new part 2]”: The script originally had no exposition on rokurokubi - it went straight to Hokushin telling Raizen he was leaving. It occurred to me later, after I’d started thumbnailing, that inserting a few pages of storytelling narrative right here would help to further solidify the kaidan (traditional Japanese ghost story) effect and mood. More importantly, it creates a baseline reference for what the reader will know about rokurokubi for the purposes of this story. I was lucky that Part 1 and Part 2 were cut neatly enough that this wouldn’t be jarring.

I’m still not entirely happy with the text for this section, mainly the “features of note” about rokurokubi. Not just the fact that it’s oversimplification and slight adaptation of actual Japanese folklore - which can’t be avoided unless I want to write a historical essay here. I’m mainly not super keen on how each of the three items has been phrased. It’d be nice to make the three points more parallel in terms of length, but I couldn’t seem to edit, increase the number of points (by splitting them up), or reorder it effectively without negatively impacting other aspects of pacing and information reveal. More points would draw out the pages longer than I wanted, and some points were clearly sub to other points. The final here is the “good enough” version. JUST GET IT DONE ALREADY SO THAT IT CAN GO OUT INTO THE WORLD.

Sooo many word choice changes. The biggest one, done at the last second, was “They are almost always female” to “They are rarely male”. Other phrasings I debated - “They are very rarely male”, “They are almost never male”, etc. Lemme tell ya, it’s easy to get lost in the weeds… Anyways, the main reason for this was because after I drew it and ran the text through my head, the originally-intended juxtaposition of Hokushin on this page with the word “female” felt too subtle. I felt it would create a brief moment of cognitive dissonance that didn’t serve the flow of the story, so I changed it to create emphasis on the same gender instead with the rationale that it will flow more smoothly and allow the reader to focus their attention on the fact “males are very rare” more than the mental hiccup of processing the juxtaposition. DOES THAT MAKE ANY SENSE?? It made sense in my head.

Anyhow, I’m sure there are people who will disagree with many of the decisions I’ve made, but at least you can see what I was trying to do.

Thumbnails

As mentioned, these thumbnails were done BEFORE I decided to insert the exposition at the beginning.

The first two rows on the left hand page are actually the same set of pages - you can see little arrows pointing down or to the right whenever I’m dissatisfied with a thumbnail and attempt to redraw it.

WIPs

I really like how Hokushin turned out in the last panel here; I like the pencils more than the final inked version. It’s also another example of changing text up to the last second. In case it’s hard to make out, it says (along with what happened to them in the final):

First thought bubble: Ugh, whatever… (moved to the next page, seemed to work better as the end exclamation for this sequence of thoughts before he turns his attention to something else)

Over Hokushin’s head: Aaaargh (moved into the thought bubble)

Second thought bubble: He’s not my responsibility anyways! (no change)

First arrow: *already feeling bad* (no change)

Second arrow: *too responsible* (dropped, since a previous panel already said “too responsible”. Too redundant)

Next to Hokushin: All he did was tie me up in a tree (no change)

The above panel “And at night...” was a thrilling and scary thing for me lmao. I don’t usually tackle large patches/fills of black, since many of my comics are scribbly in style (pencils, hatching) or colour. I’m too lazy for screentones, traditional or digital. It’ll be interesting as parts of the story coming up will involve poorly lit/dim/dark spaces. I’ve been reviewing how other artists handle it, particularly those with styles driven by pure-ink or minimalist type approaches. Two immediate examples from Yu Yu Hakusho that I’ve been going back to are the dark room fights during Genkai’s successor trials (I’ve taken a similar approach here), and the haunted bedroom case in volume 19. Hardcore cross-hatching seems like a likely route, but that freaks me out when I have to do it over faces. I’d like to minimize or avoid screentoning out of principle, but I still want to create a clear mood, so we’ll see how it goes...

This was my view while inking this page - holding the book in one hand while inking Hokushin with the other. Using the more freehand, sketchy inking style for this comic was so helpful in terms of reducing my inking anxiety and allowing me to work faster.

It’s always great when you can find a reference for period armor (because I find armor very difficult) that is so close to the pose you’re already drawing. There are some small differences - for example, Hokushin’s head is turned more to the right; his left arm is turned and raised more as he’s pulling the sword upwards. But it’s close enough.

Also, spotlight on a few of the books I’ve referenced over the course of working on North Bound in general and this part specifically.

Clockwise from top left:

日本服飾史女性編 and 男性編 (History of clothing/costume in Japan female and male editions). This marvelous set of books highlights Japanese fashion throughout history. I’ve actually been referencing these photos for a long time before I ever picked up these books - you can see them at the Costume Museum’s website here, alongside helpful line drawings and translations of some of the details. But the books allow me to see a lot more detail.

Hokusai manga vol 1 (this book is published as part of a set of 3). Sketches by Hokusai. This one focuses on “The life and manners of the day” and includes drawings of youkai, including rokurokubi, as well. You can check out the drawings online at places like The Pulverer Collection Online Catalogue.

Action references!! Real Action Pose Collection 02 (focuses on sword fights) and my favourite Samurai & Ninja Action Scene Collection. Not used as much in Long Limbs, but was helpful in some of the other chapters. The time frame is really much later than what I need for ideal clothing references, but it’s helpful for things like movement.

Kekkaishi volume 32. SPOILER a key flashback takes place about 500 years ago, which is actually a few centuries off give or take from but at least it’s closer than the Edo period. I’ve been looking at it for houses, some clothing.

Osamu Tezuka’s Phoenix - Civil War parts 1 and 2. I reference this so much while working on North Bound in general. It has scenes with peasants and commoners and some appropriate street and interior environments, not just stuff focused on the aristocracy or warrior classes. Just have to remember that they flipped all the artwork in the English version lol

Bunch of Yu Yu Hakusho manga and anime references from the end of the series, mostly for Raizen, the kudakusushi and just to check against things he or Hokushin said. The actual clothing and environments are not helpful at all lol

Last minute edits

After I posted, I discovered a few mistakes (of course). I used to freak out a lot and drop everything to fix it. Now I just sigh and laugh (and still freak out a little bit, depending on the mistake) and then decide what’s important enough to fix and what is like, “Oh well, whatever, move on with my life”.

I feel that seeing other artists share their frustrations and mistakes helps a lot of people feel better about it when they realize IT HAPPENS ALL THE TIME TO EVERYONE (including professionals. There are errors like this in professionally published series, like Yu Yu Hakusho, too). YOU’RE NOT ALONE.

So, these ones bugged me enough that I quickly redrew them on the computer.

#yu yu hakusho #comics #fanart #hokushin #process #wip #art supplies #sketches #art by Maiji/Mary Huang #yyh north bound #raizen

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