anyway this had to be done

anonymous asked:

What is the most weirdest question/commission/drawing you had ever done? (Btw, LOVE your work and everything, I think it's absolutely amazing! ^^ I showed some of my friends your tumblr and art and they FELL IN LOVE! Lol! ^^ Anyways, keep doing what you're doing!)

I don’t think I’ve ever had a weird commission haha. Oh boy, if you talking about the weirdest drawings, it depends, there’s that one disaster I drew of that Waluigi nsfw that people hated so much to that point that someone said that I should kill myself LMAOO

But then there’s also the Mystic Messenger x Spongebob mocking meme crossover I did and that’s also a disaster.

And then I have these drawings of Zen– much love to him, that beautiful bastard.

Or maybe the fact I drew a Yoosung x Dio from JJBA crossover too, calling him Diosung…

Hm… a lot of these are MM related, I guess it’s just easy to draw weird ass things related to it LMAOO. I have a lot of other weird shit I drew, but these just came up from the top of my head lmaooo 

OH AND THANK YOU SO MUCH! I’m blushing at the thought that you show off my art to your friends ahh that’s so sweet TT v TT <333

Baby Names and Impulsive Decisions

A/N: Based off Emily’s dream sequence she was thinking about Alison being a Dilaurentis-Fields, and Alison was wearing a wedding ring. This was inspired by the numerous baby name debates I’ve seen on tumblr, I didn’t think this take had been done yet, and it ended up becoming something more. (Will be posted as Together ch 6) Anyway, I’m excited to see the finale, pissed I have to work and therefore wait an extra 3 hours before I can see it. I hope you enjoy this mess of a mashup!

“Ok this is getting nowhere.” Emily huffed, leaning over the kitchen island she had been siiting at for the past 2 hours. After getting home from a trip to the grocery store, Alison began preparing dinner, not allowing Emily, with her poor cooking skills, to help. As the blonde was working, Emily brought up the topic of baby names, while it was still early in Alison’s pregnancy, the topic excited Emily. However, after 2 hours of deliberating and not coming up with anything solid, Emily was feeling exhausted. She offered to table the discussion for perhaps a more feasible one, “What about the last name?”

Alison turned her attention away from the pot on the stove to question Emily’s query, “What do you mean?”

“What will the baby’s last name be?” Emily hesitates a moment before adding her suggestion, “I’m thinking hyphenated. Dilaurentis-Fields.”

“Em, don’t be silly. It should be Fields. It’s your kid.” The blasé way Alison spoke all while turning back to face the stove, made Emily wary.  

“Biologically sure, but this is your baby too.” Her eyes bore into the back of her girlfriend’s head, silently willing her to turn around, this was not a conversation Emily wanted to have to her back.

Alison must have sensed the serious tone in Emily’s voice because she made her way over to the kitchen island, stood across from the brunette and rebutted, “I know. I just mean you have more of the connection. It’s important kids feel connected to their parents, and something like a shared last name will do that.” She vaguely remembered reading an article or something about this debate.

“All the more reason we should hyphenate. Plus no one knows they are my eggs. It would be weird for them to take only my name.” Emily started to feel uneasy, how could Alison not care about this. It was kind of a big deal.

Alison checked the stove again, not wanting to burn their almost finished meal. “They’ll know eventually, when this AD mess comes out, or when the baby comes out looking exactly like you.” She looked at her girlfriend as she said this, reminding her that this situation wasn’t as simple as Emily may think.

“Ok so when that roadblock comes, we tell people we decided to have a baby, used my eggs, let you carry, same sex couples do that all the time.” She was reaching for any explanation to convince Alison that it wasn’t as complicated as she thought it was.

“Sure, and we’re gonna tell them we decided to have a baby together before we were ever romantically involved…” Alison implored, raising her brow with a questioning smirk.

Emily became flustered, her girlfriend had a point, “I wouldn’t say ever; besides we can figure all that out later. I’m more concerned about what our child’s name will be.”

The extra emphasis on ‘our’ did not get lost on Alison who simply nodded in response before rebutting, “And I told you, it should be Fields.”

Exacerbated, Emily threw her hands up, “Why are you so against the hyphen?”

“Em, I’m not. I just prefer Fields.” Alison’s tone was soft and assuring. She did not want to start a fight over something so silly, especially when dinner was almost ready. She was eating for two these days, although sometimes it felt like three.

Her girlfriend still wasn’t having it, “Why?”

Alison sighed before turning the burner off, it’s obvious Emily wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon, and she didn’t want to burn the house down. She made her way around the island so she could be closer to the brunette, “Dilaurentis used to mean something, but now it’s just a reminder of that ‘bratty girl who faked her death’ and got her friends tortured for years.” Her air quotes lacking in enthusiasm, as was her voice.

“Ali,” Emily reached out to place a hand on Alison’s arm.

Quickly, Alison cut her off, “No Em, look, I know how this town works, I’ve heard the things people have said about me. When people found out I would be teaching their kids, oh man the gossip, the slander.” Her exaggeration was meant to imply the vast volume of instances where she heard the people of Rosewood destroy her, albeit already shameful character.

She continued her speech, to which Emily was intently listening, never breaking eye contact, “Now, I can take it, hell I deserve it because most of what they say is true.” Emily silently took one of Alison’s hands in her own, happy the blonde didn’t pull it away like before. “I don’t want that negative stigma to follow my child.”

Emily finally looked away, finding a spot on the counter that seemed suddenly very interesting, “I guess I never thought of it like that.”

“I have, a lot,” Alison pulled her hand away, gently wrapping her arms around Emily’s neck, “in fact, I was hoping that one day,” she tightened her hold, bring Emily as close to her face as possible, “when we get married,” her hands tangled in the brunette’s hair, gently scraping her scalp, “you’d let me become a Fields…then we’d all be on the same page.” She alludes to their unborn child at the end. The Field’s family, the image in Alison’s mind.

“You want to marry me?” Emily’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with an air or disbelief.

“I’d like to.” Alison simply states, staring intently into Emily’s eyes. She shies away, before timidly adding, “If you’ll have me?.”

A huge grin overcame Emily’s face, heat radiating off her face from the intense blush. “Are you kidding? Of course!” Emily pulled Alison in for a long, hunger-filled kiss, all the while internally chastising herself for her schoolgirl-esque giddiness. She breaks away in a laugh, oh the things Alison makes her feel.

“Did we just get engaged?” The question was asked in a light hearted, loving tone, but the pause, and the look on Alison’s face after it hung in the air, took on an unexpected seriousness, neither girl saw coming.

“I mean…consider it a pre-engagement?” Emily’s hands snaked their way around Alison’s back, “I don’t think we really have time to plan a wedding with a baby on the way.”

Alison’s signature smirk grew in response, “I don’t know,” she played with a lock of Emily’s hair, her arms still around the girl’s neck. “Aria terrorized us as AD’s minion and planed her wedding. Hanna and Caleb got married at city hall. I think we could pull it off.” Her tone was flirty and playful.

“Are you being serious?” The brunette couldn’t tell.

A shrug of shoulders with an accompanying, “Why not,” came from the blonde, before continuing on a more serious note, “it’s not like we have to get married tomorrow, or even a year from now. But I know I want to be your wife, let’s just call it what it is, fiancée.” Her playful tone from before returned with the use of the French word. A soft smile graced her lips as she thought, what was it with them and the country of France?

“We don’t have rings.” Still in disbelief, Emily could only lightly laugh continuing the ‘joke.’

“So we’ll go shopping tomorrow.” Alison pleaded, “Em, I love you. Like you said the other day, we’ve waited so long to get to this place together, why wait any longer?” There was no flirtly, playful, joking sense in her voice. She was dead serious, she wanted to marry Emily Fields.

It took a moment for it to truly sink in for the brunette, her girlfriend, the girl she’s loved forever, the girl she once thought she’d never have a future with, Alison Dilaurentis, was asking her, no pleading with her to marry her. The amount of times Emily has dreamed of this moment, it was actually happening, and everything felt so organic. How a conversation about baby names led them to getting engaged, sounds so crazy, and yet it felt perfect. Like they’ve both said, they took so long to come together, officially, when in actuality they had always been committed to one another. Alison said all her past relationships failed because she was in love with Emily, and Emily felt she could never fully love someone as long as Alison had a hold of her heart. Why not go ahead and give in to the inevitable?

Emily pulled her girlfriend, or now fiancée, in for another kiss, “Okay, future Mrs. Fields, whatever you say.” The look on Alison’s face was enough to kill any doubt she may have had about this rather impulsive decision. The blonde had never stared at her with more love and desire than right at this moment.

Alison pulled Emily in for a crazed filled kiss that lasted for what felt like forever, and yet neither girl wanted it to end. When they broke apart, Alison smiled widely, and earnestly asked, “So we’re going with Fields?”

“If that’s what you really want, yes.” Alison eagerly nodded in confirmation, “I love you no matter who you are.” Emily pulled Alison into her arms as tightly as she could, relishing in the feeling. If you had told Emily seven years ago, 5 years ago, hell even one year ago that she would end up engaged to her ‘straight’ best friend she fell for all those years ago, she would’ve laughed in your face. Even now it still felt like a dream, and if it was, she hoped she’d never wake up.

so i recently hit 900 followers and i was gonna show a karkat animation wip for thanks but apparently it didnt work out and now i have to delete it and find better software but heres a video of what i had done while i awkwardly narrate in the background
anyway im still half convinced some of yall are spambots but im glad you manage to like my art and i hope i can keep producing less horrible doodles in the meantime so thanks


ITS BEEN 76774678143670 YEARS I S2G

But anyways yeah! I finished this, I’ve had the concept in my head for months now, and I finally came up with a finished product! As with almost all of my drawings I’m not a huge fan of the background but I’ll just have to work on developing my skills in that area! Also ignore Mark’s left wrist bending at an impossible angle lol

Also figured I’d tag all the bois since it’s finally done: @markiplier @therealjacksepticeye @pewdie

Alright, well I’m off work now so I’ll see y’all later! Enjoy!

Emergency trip to Riften! (A long tale by Talviel)

[This is my first ever fanfic and I hope you guys enjoy it and let me know what you think! I haven’t done any creative writing in at least 2-3 years so apologies if it sounds a bit clunky. Anyway, happy reading!]

I was in Bruma for a week teaching a Hammerfell-style cooking class when a messenger delivered a letter that my mother was ill. Thankfully Bruma is just on the border of Skyrim so I got on my horse and set off straight away.

When I finally arrived in Riften, I was relieved to discover my father had contacted a healer to work on my mother. It turned out she had contracted rockjoint, because apparently she was out in the woods picking mushrooms when a wolf bit her! Thankfully she killed the wolf and suffered no serious injuries otherwise, but needless to say my father and I were peeved she didn’t say anything sooner (damn Imperials and their pride). The good news is that the bite is healing nicely and the worst of the rockjoint should be gone within a week or so, optimistically.

With that taken care of, I decided to wander around town a bit. The first stop was The Bee and Barb. Keerava and I were overjoyed to see each other as I hadn’t been home in over a year. Luckily it was early afternoon, so aside from the lunch regulars (who were surprised to see me), the inn was quiet and we got to spend a few hours exchanging news and gossip. We shared a flagon of mead with Talen-jei (who really only ever tolerated my presence, but was pleasant enough to me), and I was on my way again.

I was strolling through the marketplace when I heard a very familiar “Lass!”. I turned bright red, because of course it was none other than my ex-boss from the Guild, Brynjolf, running yet another scam. He pulled me aside and whispered that his new recruit had never turned up for the heist, so now he was stuck awkwardly selling skeever repellant when some pockets needed picking.

What a moral dilemma. I had promised I’d left my life of crime behind me, but deep down I’ve always been loyal to the Guild, and especially Brynjolf, who had always treated me with nothing but kindness and respect, even after I resigned. It doesn’t help that I’ve been in love with him since I first laid eyes on him either.

So what’s a woman to do? I was dressed as an innocent traveller, so nobody would suspect me. In a matter of minutes, my skilled fingers had lifted two hefty pouches of gold, several pieces of fine jewellery and amulets, a few potions…and a sweetroll (old habits die hard). I tucked my prizes into my worn travel sack and headed down to the cistern to unload the cargo.

Whoever wasn’t on a job basically screeched when they saw me. I was the Guild’s youngest recruit when they picked me up (I was just 16 at the time), and they were astounded to see me as a well-travelled young woman. In fact, I was only 17 during the plight of Alduin and worked with Brynjolf and Karliah to bring the corrupt former head of the Guild, Mercer Frey, down. I exchanged hugs with Sapphire, Rune, Thrynn, and Cynric, the old timers. They introduced me to a fair number of new faces, then hauled me off to The Ragged Flagon.

Vex, Delvin, Tonilia, and Vekel nearly fell off their seats when they saw me. Of course, Vex and Delvin immediately tried to bribe me with jobs, thinking I’d returned for good. The disappointment on their faces when I explained why I was back in Riften made me feel so guilty I almost wished I was back in the Guild. “Well the least you could do then, o cultured one, is to cook us all dinner and save me the effort!” Vekel bellowed. Now that I could happily do.

Apparently the Guild was doing brilliantly. They had a total of 35 members now, and 20 were in Riften at the moment. I scratched my head, wondering how I could pull off a feast at such short notice, but I’d been put in worse situations (one trip to Whiterun had me yanked into the Jarl’s kitchen by two very scared chefs who had apparently been notified two hours before that dignitaries were arriving and a feast for 30 was needed). So I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.

Brynjolf came back to see what I had found as I was in the middle of mincing garlic. I gestured to my travel sack, not wanting to get my fragrant hands over everything. He seemed pleased with the loot, but puzzled by the sweetroll. “Is this yours, lass?” He asked. When I blushingly said it was for him, he laughed and gave me a hug, thanking me for the gesture. I nearly fainted right then and there.

Three hours later, I’d accomplished it. A hearty meal for 20, comprised of rabbit millet pilaf, West Weald corn chowder, a Redguard venison pie, and the famous Jerall View Inn carrot cake (one must never omit dessert from a meal!). Vekel rolled out a barrel each of beer and mead, and enough wine to get a village drunk for a week. Sapphire went to round up the stragglers, and soon we were all sitting at The Flagon digging in. I brought news of the world, and the Guild happily told me of the best jobs they’d had since I was gone.

As the night wore on and the booze flowed freely, slowly the Guild members disappeared back to the cistern with full bellies and happy hearts. By two, the only ones left at The Flagon were me, Brynjolf, and Vekel, who had promised to clean up. Brynjolf and I had broken out the bottles of sujamma and matze I’d been hoarding since my last trip to Raven Rock, and were playing “Never have I ever”. Well, we learned a lot of things about each other that night. Drunk and laughing, I leaned my head on Brynjolf’s shoulder and he stroked my hair affectionately. “We’ve missed you, lass.” He said. “I’ve missed you.”

I almost startled myself sober. “You…have?” I stuttered, unable to believe my ears. “Yup.” He said. “You were one of our finest recruits, just…so young. You’ve grown into a fine woman, lass, and even though you’re no longer running with the Guild, I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’re the pride of Riften, in case nobody’s mentioned it yet.”

Vekel cleared his throat, having clearly been eavesdropping on our conversation and seeing where it was heading, even though blockhead me was too drunk to figure it out yet. “Well, you two have a nice night, morning, whatever. I’m off to bed.” He declared loudly, before disappearing home.

I stood up, wobbling. “He’s got a point, it’s getting late. I should probably head back to my parents.” I mumbled. Brynjolf stood up to steady me, his hands unusually tight around my waist. “You needn’t go, lass. Riftweald Manor is still ours, where we store our extra things. Grab a bottle of wine, and let’s go, better than waking everyone in the cistern up.” I grabbed a bottle of Alto wine from the counter. “You know me far too well, Brynjolf.” I giggled, leaning on him for support as we stumbled our way to the manor.

When we got in at last (Brynjolf had left the key behind so we drunkenly had to pick the lock), he gesticulated around, showing me what the Guild had done with the place since I’d been gone. The place was lavish, decorated with the best finds from certain jobs. Maps adorned the walls, pinned with the locations of targets. Large empty chests were everywhere, ready to be filled and brought down to the vault. It was certainly much nicer than when Mercer had left it to rot.

Brynjolf and I sat cross legged on the biggest bed we could find, leaning comfortably on the soft pillows and passing the bottle of wine between us. We talked about nothing in particular, breaking out in fits of laughter for no reason. Even while being drunker than Brenuin in Whiterun, I was both happy and astounded to see the personal side of Brynjolf I had never seen while working for him.

I said something to him, I don’t remember what, and he swatted me over the head with a pillow, and the remnants of the bottle of wine went flying across the room. “Oi, what is this, the Dark Brotherhood?” I cackled. “You just killed the wine!” “Fuck the wine, fight me you wench!” Brynjolf hollered, hitting me over the head again with the pillow. “Wench? WENCH? Well I never!” I shouted back, grabbing another pillow and whacking him with it. Soon there were feathers everywhere and we were cackling like hagravens. He pulled my hair and I pulled his. Soon we were tumbling across the bed, flailing about and feebly slapping at each other.

Then the unexpected happened. Well, unexpected to me anyway; as I mentioned before I am a blockhead. He grabbed my head and kissed me, hard. Startled, I pulled back. “Brynjolf, what are you doing?“ I stuttered, unable to believe what had just happened. “What I always should have done, lass. Well, since you were a little older, anyway.” I laughed, and leaned in. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you.” “I wouldn’t call this love, lass, but let’s just enjoy tonight, while you’re still here.”

If you’ve made it this far, dear reader, I’m sure I don’t need to elaborate on the rest. Needless to say, I stumbled back to my parents’ house sometime the next afternoon with my clothes in disarray, while Brynjolf made his unsteady way back to the cistern. When I got to the house, I was relieved to see my mother was asleep and resting. My father, on the other hand, was sitting at the dining table tinkering with something. He grinned at me widely. “So, the classic Nordic walk of shame. Glad to see you got that from me at least.” He laughed. I groaned and fell into my bed, still thinking about the surreal night before.

The Forbidden Doll

Ficlet request for @empressreborn: Grell is turned into a doll by Drocell.

Grell stomped through the muddy streets as the rain poured down mercilessly; ruining her makeup and leaving her hair a frizzy mess. It didn’t matter now. It’s not like anyone was looking at her anyway.

She had made her move that day. Walking into William’s office, she had left her theatrical side at the door and had faced him as seriously as she could. In a calm tone, she had asked him if there was any chance for them. He didn’t even seem to consider the matter. He had said no and asked that she kindly leave his office as he was busy. She had done exactly as he had asked without displaying too much emotion, but now her feelings surged within her. She wanted to scream, cry, beg, kill  - do anything to find some release from the aching in her chest.

As she splashed down the cobblestone street, she passed a shop and something caught her eye to the point she could only stop and stare in wonder. She hadn’t seen a doll like that in years, and she felt her mind drifting back to her own childhood.

She had been out with her parents inside the toy shop when she had spotted a beautiful, porcelain doll with crimson hair and a rosy smile. Her heart had ached for that doll - feeling it was a reflection of her, but her parents had soundly refused such a toy. She had cried, and they had dragged her from the store with obvious embarrassment. Afterwords, she had schemed and plotted some way to get that doll but had never actually done anything. At some point, she had simply given up on her dream.

Yet, here sat an almost identical doll; smiling serenely up at her. As she looked, her heart began to beat faster, and she suddenly realized something very important.

No one could say no to her this time.

Wiping her face and trying to smooth her hair, she entered the shop to inquire about the doll.

William was doing his best to stay on track, but his mind kept wandering and drifting. He couldn’t deny that Grell had acted differently this time, but he had to be firm with all his employees. Besides, there was no way she could be serious.

There was a soft knock on the frame of his open door, and he looked up to see Ronald standing there. “Yes, Knox?”

Ronald stepped inside the office. “I have those reports finished,” he said, “and I thought I’d turn them in on my way out.” He walked over to the desk and handed to William, but then he lingered uncharacteristically. Normally he was ready to leave, but now Ronald simply stood there with an uncomfortable smile.

“Is there something else, Knox?” William asked.

“No,” Ronald said, “Well, yes. It’s just…you know…a little hard to ask.”

“Just ask your question.”

“Uh, okay, so did Senior Sutcliff talk to you today?” Ronald asked, “I mean, she was going to. She was worried about things, so I told her to ask you directly in a serious manner.”

William blinked a few times. “You encouraged Sutcliff to speak to me? Why would you do that?”

Ronald shifted nervously from foot to foot. “You know,” he said, “She really cares you. I know how she acts and all, but I also know she really does love you. I didn’t know if you knew, so I told her to tell you straight out.” There was a long pause. “So, did she?”

William suddenly felt very foolish as he realized how cruel he had been to Grell; speaking so harshly when she had been serious. “Excuse me,” he said, as he stood, “Please watch over the office. I’ll be back soon.”

“Hey, I’m not supposed to work overtime today,” Ronald complained, but William barely listened as he hurried from the office.

Tracking Grell was easy. William knew how to trace her portals, and then he could simply follow the scent of her perfume. He retraced his steps until he came to the large window of a doll shop and immediately noticed the porcelain doll with the red hair.

And then Grell who was sitting inside.

William quickly walked inside; relieved that he had found her, but his relief quickly turned to horror. She was sitting on a stool, but her arms and legs were held in an odd, stiff manner, and there was no light reflecting her two toned eyes. “Grell!” he shouted, “Grell, what’s wrong?”

“I’ve taken away her pain,” a strange voice announced. It seemed to echo about the room, but he couldn’t find the speaker.

“What are you talking about?”

“She came to me full of pain and heartache,” explained the voice, “I’ve taken all that way away so all that’s left is the beauty.”

“You’ve turned her into a doll!” yelled William. He pulled at the strings above Grell that was attached to her limbs.

“All that left is beauty.”

“No,” William said, “The pain is still there, and I can see it. Besides, Grell’s beauty was more than her face. Her spirit, as wild and uncontrollably as it is, is another part of it. Her spirit is beauty.”

Grell’s eyes twitched. One tear slipped down her cheek as her irises turned towards William.

“There was a broken heart,” the voice said.

“There still is,” William replied, “and…and I was partly to blame. I broke her heart by not listening, and I’m sorry for that.”

Grell blinked. “W…Will,” she mumbled.

He spun around to face her. “Grell? You can hear me?”

She nodded stiffly; the movement obviously difficult for her.

“Then hear me,” he said, “I didn’t know you were serious before, and I was scared. I was afraid to put out my heart when I didn’t know how you truly felt. I’m sorry for that. I never meant to hurt you, and…I do love you. Despite all logic, I love you. I have for a long time.”

“Will,” she whispered, and smiled. Pulling against the strings, she reached out for him.

He summoned his scythe and cut away all the strings. “Let’s go,” he said.

“There’s only heartache outside,” the voice said, but the speaker made no move to stop them.

The rain continued to fall as William carried her down the street before creating a portal. “Will?” Grell asked. Her voice was muffled slightly as she was leaning against his chest.

“You shouldn’t try to talk,” he said, “We need to get you to the infirmary.”

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked, “I…I have to know.”

There was only a brief pause. “I meant every word,” he admitted, and he carried her through the portal, “Now lay still. I’m going to get you taken care of.”

She smiled against his chest. She was still weak from whatever magic had been used against her, but her heart felt lighter than she could ever remember. He did care, and he had cared all along. That’s all she needed.

something I’ve always disliked about navigating the social climate of this game, and in particular, the duty finder, is having to humor assholes to keep the peace. like, okay, we got Haukke Manor HM, whatever, I know everyone just wants to get through this asap and it’s old and outdated and whatever and we can’t even do that efficiently because the WHM is in such a rush they don’t bother to Protect until after we’ve wiped on the final boss. After I politely asked earlier in the run.

And I wanted to just not move until they had done so, but then I’d be the asshole slowing us down and it’s not like it matters anyway right?? Yeah. This is why it takes me a while to level tanks because I can only solo queue for so long before my anxiety goes through the roof and my patience wears thin.


A messy little comic where a discovery is made (and the masses eat it up).

Part 2

I told you I would return lol (Season 1)


Yuuri tells Victor his thoughts during their first dance.

I want to thank @thehobbem so, so much for co-writing the dialogue! She spent hours going through metas and crafting this line-by-line with me. Yuuri was much harder to write for than Victor and I couldn’t have done it without her tireless work. ;u; I also want to thank @teasidesketches for doing final revisions despite not being in the fandom. You two are the best. <3

I also want to dedicate this to @solfegefaerie for being the first one to give me the idea of writing Yuuri’s vows. They’re not vows this time, but I thought this was suiting. :) 

If you can, you should read this while listening to “Yuri on Ice.” I matched the flow of the comic to that of the song, hence the tribute to the representation of Yuuri as the lone piano until Victor comes into his life as the violin (in case you were wondering about the sudden Music AU thrown in the middle there). 

Pair comic to Victor’s Vows.

general li mulan

okay so i LOVE mulan okay. as far as i’m concerned it’s a Perfect Movie and doesn’t need any fixing. but i was thinking today and -

- what if mulan didn’t go to war to save her father?

say her father is dead, okay, killed by the previous war. so she’s raised by her mother and grandmother, women who’s complacency and softness has been worn away by necessity. she needs to marry well, for her family’s sake, because her mother has refused the hand of every man who offered. but mulan is even more rough around the edges than before, is educated not only in books (her mother said men wouldn’t find smarts attractive and grandmother pointed out that men aren’t always around and off to school mulan went) but in the sword too, taught to her by her classmate, ping.

mulan is considered in the lower end of the upper class, coming from a family of military men and scholars and successful merchants. ping is near the top, the son or nephew of an advisor to the emperor. his family is very rich and very important, and the reason they become friends is because mulan manages to notice something about him that he’s been hiding from everyone else - he’s going blind.

not totally blind, enough to get around, but blind enough that reading is difficult and swordplay is even worse, although once he has it down he has it. ping is no fool, he’s not weak or bumbling. his eyes just don’t work. so mulan notices and confronts him about it. she promises to keep it a secret, and hey, she’ll even help him with his assignments by reading the books out loud and helping him study. but in return he must teach her the sword, must teach her about military and tactics. he agrees.

ping and mulan become very good friends and there’s some raised eyebrows about it but they are TOO far away in class for it to be inappropriate, so they make tutting sounds and disapproving faces and let it go.

then the draft happens. ping can’t go to war, he won’t survive it. not with his eyesight like it is. so mulan offers him a deal - she’ll go to war for him, in his place. in return, if she survives, he must marry her. if she dies he must take care of her family.

ping can’t make this kind of family decision on his own, so he goes to his mother and tells her everything, about the eyesight and how he’ll die if he goes and mulan’s offer. his mother says he must keep it a secret from his father, but agrees - if mulan fights in her son’s place and survives, a wedding will be arranged. either way, mulan’s family will be taken care of. ping will be sent to live with some cousins in the meanwhile.

“you’re not in love with me, are you?” ping asks, helping mulan saddle her horse in the middle of the night. she scoffs and rolls her eyes, “not even a little. but marrying you will make my family happy, and besides, you’re my best friend,” she says, smiling, “better you than some grabby old man.” he smiles and hugs her and says, “i’m not in love with you either. but don’t die out there. we have a wedding to plan.”

so mulan goes to the camp, pretending to be ping, and she’s a little bit less lost but things still go as they go. she’s educated and trained, so it’s not hard for her to pass as ping. shang is keeping a special eye on her, thinking that she’s the son of an advisor, one of his father’s friends. and he sees how easily she excels, how quick thinking and smart she is, and starts giving her more and more responsibilities. by the time they’re called out, shang considers ping ie mulan to be his right hand man, and possibly his best friend.

he’s also a little bit in love with ping, and he’s long known he’s attracted to both genders, so he watches ping laugh and smile and the crease between his eyes when he frowns and does his best to let his feelings chase away the best soldier he has. every time shang looks at ping his heart clenches and he things to himself: i wish i could have you, i wish this was a time and a place where one man could have another, i wish you were a girl, is wish i was a girl - i wish we could be together. he’s literally a step away from doodling ‘li ping’ with little hearts over his battle plans. 

so the battles happen. shang and ping lead their men together, respected and loved. they each get promoted, and promoted, and promoted. it’s been years, and it comes to a point where they’re both generals in their own right. they trust each other, care for each other. and are both secretly in love with the other.

mulan is so conflicted. because she wants this war to end and to go home and settle back into life and become ping’s wife, so she can have an easy life spent studying and learning with her family taken care of. that’s what she’d wanted. but now what she wants is shang, her best friend, her brother in arms, her fellow general. she wishes to be everything to him, aches to be the woman on his arm and in his bed, but knows it’s the one thing she can never be.

then that final battle happens. mulan’s quick thinking saves them all and ends the war - but she’s injured.

shang finds out the ping has been a girl all along. he demands explanations - so she tells him everything, that she traded places with ping to save him, to become his wife.

and the lies should sting the sharpest, but they don’t. she’s still the same person, after all. it’s that she’s promised to another man, for one second he’d thought he might have her, but no. so he agrees not to reveal her but he’s furious and furious at himself for being furious and they’re not the same now, broken and splintered and neither of them know what to do.

the war is over. they leave. mulan returns home, and thanks to her ping is now known as a respected general. she’s done her part and survived, and now she gets her reward - ping’s hand in marriage.

but she sees ping for the first time and flings herself into his arms and starts crying. she tells him everything, because he’s still her friend, her very best friend besides shang, the man whom she lied to and betrayed and loves. and ping listens and takes her by the shoulders and says - i’ll uphold our bargain, if that’s what you want. you can be my pampered wife, you’ve more than earned it. but if you want to go to shang, i won’t blame you. you deserve your happiness.

and mulan goes back and forth, but ultimately she decides she has to try. if shang rejects her she’ll return and marry ping and uphold her family honor. but if shang wants her - he’s not as high up as ping, but he’s high up enough to satisfy her family, and also she would love him and want him if he was no more than a farming peasant so it doesn’t matter much anyway.

she rides to the capitol. she finally meets ping’s father, running into him while looking for shang. “ah mulan,” says this man who was never supposed to know of her until she became his daughter-in-law, “i didn’t expect to see you here. how fortuitous. walk with me.” she does, wary, and that’s how she discovers - he and the emperor had discovered her deception a year in, but at that point she’d already proven herself too skilled and valuable to lose. he tells her that he will uphold his son and wife’s deal and gladly welcome her to his household - but that she’s earned her rank as general, and that he and the emperor have no problem with letting her keep it.

she says thank you, shocked and joyful, but that she has to talk to someone first. “ah, yes, young general li,” he says, eyes twinkling, “i do believe he’s around here somewhere.”

she has no idea how he seems to know everything, but she finally tracks down shang who’s ecstatic to see her and hates himself for it. she confesses - says she loves him, that she’s engaged to ping but willing and able to break this engagement for shang. who is dumbfounded and elated and says yes, of course, finally and forever.

and mulan accepts her rank and marries shang, and they become the literal power battle couple of the general li mulan and general li shang. ping becomes a scholar and marries a very nice young woman who loves reading and is happy to read aloud to her husband with his failing eyes.

and they all live happily ever after.


giorno “glamour” giovanna 


did some facial ref practice with the vento aureo gang also @ davidpro part 5 when????