#companion au design is progressing!!!

[shiawasekai]

Here I am, debating between the simpler self-indulgent shippy piece or the more complex mad scientists one as my next big project...

As in I would actually appreciate help deciding because I like both ideas and both are solid enough I could go for either.

[recom-week]

RETURN TO PANDORA MONTH!

Our tag is #Return to pandora / #returntopandora

This year, we will be running a casual avatar event during the whole of December! 1st to 31st.

We are giving you 30 prompts (gen, nsfw, and tropes), as well as 7 alternate prompts which are "Fan Clan" focused. Pick and mix as you please, use any of your own as well.

There are no set days for this month, prompts come in any order.

Main prompts:

Combat — Tsaheylu — Sick fic/art Memory — Punishment — Reverse AU Eywa — Shibari/Bondage — Gender Swap Flying — Body Worship — Crossover Revenge — First Time — Modern Earth AU Food — Human/Na'vi Pairing — Fix it Visit — Edging — Whump or H/C Gifts — Voyeurism — Enemies to Lovers Medicine — Sex Pollen — Soulmates AU Awakening — Jealousy — Actors AU

Fan clan prompts:

New Biomes Fan-Clan Lore New Lab Creations Mount Designs Different Na’vi Types New Animal Companions Humans (RDA or Others)

You can start creating now, but please save your work to post in December, when we will start reblogging submissions. The AO3 collection will open on the 1st of December.

You can submit any medium. All characters are welcome, including OCs. You can work exclusively on recombinants, or your own clans, or spend the entire month crafting speculative meta for Avatar 3. You could make a month long comic, or share a progress-journal of your efforts crafting a cosplay. If it spreads the avatar love, we'll have it!

Our goal is to keep the Avatar fandom alive and the A3 hype going!

If you have questions, please check the rules and FAQ, or send us an ask.

Rules | Twitter | AO3 Collection | FAQ

[narenohate]

the reckless, the wild youth (WIP)

(since eda and raine's backstory is so different in this AU, i'm pondering a comic about the two of them and just how and why it went so wrong) (infodump.... ramble?? ig down there + design notes on how my progress is going with this project)

Seb's design notes: anyways i've been dancing with the idea of making canis caninam's witches more animalistic. because yeah im just having fun at this point. bonus, sphynx / owl beast design. i'm not a big fan of her canon design, and it's not because i think she's scary.

my current inspo for the witch faces is a mix of good ol' na'vi 3d models, deerchip's s work (they're on twitter!!) and olya bossak's anthropomorphic portraits!! i didn't just want them to be elves who purr, tbh... though more and more as i post this i'm kind of hoping to get harrassed off the fandom for my weird ideas and "forced" to make this into an original story.

ramble on story derived from conversation with Bow (idea beta tester, victim of the circumstances of my hyperfixation, beautiful white hetero man who got here by accident). IT'S A ROUGH, UNEDITED DRAFT. PARTS OF IT ARE DIRECTLY FROM A CONVERSATION. IT'S ROUGH. Eda is born to the Clawthorne family - daughter of Gwendolyn, a healer, and Dell, a toy maker who married into her clan as to escape the hardships of living outside the barrier, amidst bestial demons... and probably something else, smart enough to scare him into hiding, though that usually goes unsaid. She is one of a pair of twins, and, for the first fourteen suns, eleven moons and twenty-nine sundowns of their lives they are inseparable.

It's their fifteenth birthday when Dell gives them an old grimmoire that has been in his family for centuries. Some of its words have been altered with the years, rewritten and repaired by generations, their meaning lost - symbols re-drawn from memory with each unfortunate accident.

Lilith partakes in that tradition - having to repair a page of a long-winded wild-spell meant to be cast by a powerful warlock, after she spills some tea on it.

that night, the two set out to camp with a group of their friends -hyacinth, a selk nobleman who, despite his young age, served under belos as his huntsmaid and personal cook, and his apprentice, darius, a prodigy who'd already been branded for a coven, and who'd been personally selected by belos to be a companion for the golden-haired boy who'd earned his favor.

and, of course, trailing slightly behind, raine whispers. their glasses are foggy and they already smell like the alcohol they brought to the party.

nobody leaves the outermost wall to camp these days, of course, so the bunch of them settle in an abandoned park, before doing as teenagers do when provided alcohol, and getting plastered.

at some point, eda, raine and hyacinth get into an argument of some kind - one that results in eda opening the grimmoire she brought along, and going along with the plan she'd nearly abandoned: using her rudimentary knowledge of the old tongue the tome was written in, she makes a circle out of salt around herself, and reads the spell.

its words are all wrong. whatever she summons she angers, and, at first, nothing happens.

then, as she and raine lay together on her hammock the afternoon after the party and the tiny backyard camping "trip", eda falls ill.

it was fever and it was vomiting. then the lining of her stomach, then her gums and her teeth and her tongue. her skin sagged and it was like she was all liquid inside it.

raine slept by her bedside, singing to calm her down whenever she awoke. lilith laid in the old manor's basement, endlessly brewing potion after potion to try and quell the pain that refused to ebb away.

darius and hyacinth did not go to belos - instead they were stopped at the door by the clawthorne patriarch, and with his help, took a griffin out of the city, found an old thing. it called itself queen of bats, and it was made of wood, and it knew dell very well.

the three give her the griffin, and spend four sunsets and three sunrises walking back with their prize - it's a living tether, a wooden owl dell had made as a toy for his daughter when she was very young. filled with the griffin's soul, it was given by its enchantress the mission of tethering its holder.

they arrive to a burning house. darius and dell don't speak of it, but the only time they both see the emperor is when they deliver his selk concubine's mutilated carcass at the throne room, laid at his feet like an offering.

dell lost one eye to his daughter, the other eye and both hands to the emperor.

raine was gone to everyone except the thing that eda had become, a sphynx that spared their life for the price of their song. they land atop a rocky cliffface, a few miles away from the outer border of the bonesborough wall - soon, something finds them.

the owl her father had carved for her followed eda, and raine became sure, at that moment, that she wasn't lost.

lilith and darius compensated for hyacinth's loss, sitting for years at the foot of the throne as the emperor's guards, until belos found it fit to entrust them both to make for him a new selkie servant - they took hyacinth's old heart, a blue stone that ebbed and flowed, and they took the lungs of a dragon, the innards of a maiden, and all the blood they could get from a seal-devil, along with a tiny fragment of bone that had been strapped to hyacinth's old heart.

they spend day and night putting him together - the rough face of clay mixed with blood, the organs gracefully gifted, the bone.

they bury the sculpture. a boy digs himself out of the dirt while they sleep in the temple, curled up together in a mess of ratty old sheets they'd found.

they name him hunter because he was more demon than boy, but had hyacinth's face, and, though something seemed very wrong, he had somehow killed and dragged in a rat to eat by their side during the time they'd spent asleep.

belos allows the name to stay, and grants them both titles and robes of white, and allows them to mary whomever they wish.

lilith secludes herself to a temple and studies every grimmoire she can, and darius takes on apprentice after apprentice, teaching them how to pull the throat strings of a bard out, and how to best slay a sphynx.

hunter looks just like hyacinth, and, despite how strongly he'd imprinted on his makers, they both hate him from just the look in his eyes.

lilith finds the portraits of every other selk concubine, every other golden guard.

it's always hyacinth's face. meanwhile, raine managed to unearth eda - partially.

they bind her to them, and she remembers very little, but she is undeniably herself, and despite the tragedy of her body, or maybe because of it, she seeks to cause chaos. she embraces the life of a wildling, and raine follows in her stead.

a year passes. then two. three, maybe. probably more, considering everything that comes after. what really matters is that, as raine grows more frantic in their search for something that can help her, occasionally coming in contact with the fragmented clawthorne family's matriarch (before finding her treatments too harsh), all in search for a way to stabilize eda's mind and body...

she accepts that fate she was given.

the system of castes and castings and divisions becomes pointless to her, and she eagerly, easily pushes raine to rebellion by her side. the wards around the walls have nothing against her - usually, griffins and dragons don't fly that high.

raine found gwen's attempts to heal her daughter too much - but at some point, more than a decade after the two set out together, a night after raine settles a chain with a golden ring around her massive paw's wrist, they catch wind, through that shared palisman of theirs, that raine's mother has passed.

they leave eda to sleep atop the church, tail around its tower, and enter it to pray.

they meet someone - a who who dances on the edge of being a what - and, in their grief, bear to her their heart, and are offered a deal in return.

all they want in life, for a price, their mind.

eda wakes up, a moon later, transformed, and with every memory made vague, erased except for vague outlines.

naked but for a wedding ring around her neck, in a dark, low chunk of the city, with the body of a beast, she's seen as exotic enough to work the night for a couple years, as she catches up on a life she lost, and takes the name of a harpy, not knowing she's a clawthorne.

… clawthorne health clinic seems so familiar of a name, though. she jots down their contacts. attends every speech given by darius deammonne, head of the carnomantis force, and often borrows from the library books on forbidden magic written or translated by one lilith clawthorne.

it's not familiar.

she feels like it should be, though. so she digs into it all - never takes the name of clawthorne, but as her social standing falls and she teeters ever closer to living outside the walls, the people around her take to calling her the owl-lady.

she eventually takes to stealing from old homes - the abandoned sort, full of hobs and rats and hexes she can easily bypass, with magic as strong (as well-trained, despite the lack of any memory of schooling) as hers.

there's a farm-house, though, mostly burnt, long ago vacated, that feels very familiar when she enters. she tears up despite not remembering her, when she recognizes her twin's face beside her own in a portrait. in the rubble of a bedroom, a large woven hammock still has an old violin sitting broken on top of its torn fabric.

inside its case, the thing she knows she gave up her memories - or maybe something more - for, sits waiting and patient.

... a key to the human realm. she knows a lot about it, and remembers an unbound fascination.

(her one visit goes very wrong, of course - but she can spy through her palisman's little eye, so it's worth it. it's all worth it.)

meanwhile, raine wakes up, married to a woman whose face is foggy to them, with three apprentices who don't know their name but promise they've been there under them for weeks.

whomever wiped their mind didn't bother to take the human-styled wedding ring off their finger.

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

Can we have more about The Awful digital hospital?

[ slams papers on desk ] i'm so glad you asked !

this au's still admittedly a huge work in progress and there's not really a lot down - though to be fair i'm not really that much of an au person . i take a million years to finish them shfsf

also fun fact that gooseworx made music for the awful hospital so this au was fated to happe

anyways the awful digital hospital is ... kind of a crossover but also Not ?? it's more like it's own thing that combines both elements of both medias , so no character is a one-on-one swap and there will be a lot of differing elements . nonetheless it's kind of hard to do this without spoiling the webcomic which i still highly recommend to read - one of the only medias that made me cry and laugh out loud lol

dolly's our favorite shrimp who , after being admitted into the hospital for an eye injury , has a son to save . kind of our most mentally stable ragatha because she doesn't have this thing called ' being trapped in a digital hell for years ' . still burdened with the voices though

2. rabbit is one of the other patients in the hospital that . may or may not have killed so much of the staff - which is why there's oddly so few of them . has been trapped in the hospital for years , which did a number on his morals .

of course being a digital space the said staff Can come back by rebuilding their code but still it's pretty odd this guy would unexistentialize people

3. here's the hospital staff . they were ... kind of decent at their jobs ? but [ SOMETHING ] leaked into the mainframe so everything's falling apart now . while some of the staff ( read : the nurses ) are friendlier than others they still will pose a threat if you are not in your room .

here's the only ones whose designs i have down . i do know that jax's a veterinarian , zooble's a surgeon , and kinger's a psychologist

4. zooble can also make tiny little zoobles with their zoobox . they generally help out with the surgery though there's one that escaped and became dolly's companion .

5. loo is the manager of a candy factory that totally does not use humans as its main ingredient . very friendly at first glance but if you're flesh and bones you're thrown in the sugar grinder . scramble was unwillingly taken in to become the cashier for the candy shop but oh well at least they're not being murdered .

there's a bunch more but i'm letting everything here cook first ... ! still happy to talk about this thing though i like thinking about my two fixations

[gravedwe11er]

Echoes through the cosmos

The final part of my Mecha AU coswave fic is done! It took me a while, but here it is. Parts one and two can be found here, and I hope you enjoy!

AU by @keferon and the base idea came from my friend @cosmique-oddity

Things are changing for Cosmos, in more ways than one. It doesn't have to be a bad thing.

“Greetings, little watcher,” comes from his headphones, completely out of nowhere, and Cosmos nearly stumbles on the treadmill.

“Good morning, big watcher,” he teases back, and blames the beginning of a blush spreading across his face on the exercise.

A staticky crackle carries through the tiny speakers. “Designation: Soundwave.” says the mech firmly, and Cosmos can’t help but burst into laughter.

Things have been better lately. That first bit of honesty seems to have opened the floodgates, and Soundwave’s voice is now a near-constant companion in his ear. The mech still prefers texting or using his vocal modulator, but every now and then, Cosmos gets to hear the real him, and he treasures every instance accordingly. And if Soundwave’s smooth, almost melodic voice inspires some slightly embarrassing thoughts at times? Well, that’s nobody’s business but his own, really.

“Just returning the favor, Soundwave,” he says, putting emphasis on the name. “It’s only fair to have a nickname for you too, though, wouldn’t you say?”

“Correction: greetings, Cosmos.”

Cosmos snorts. “Alright, alright, I see how it is. But I am going to find a nickname you like eventually, you know. Or, well- at least tolerate.”

“Negative,” comes over the speakers, deadpan as all get out. Cosmos just smiles again, shaking his head, before returning to his exercise.

Yeah, things are good.

-

“Waves.” Cosmos tries, impish grin on his face.

[Designation: Soundwave.]

“Soundy.”

[Negative.]

“Alright, alright,” he says between barely suppressed giggles. “Wavey?”

“No.”

“Sounders!”

The entire screen blacks out. “Wait, no, come back, I’m sorry-“

-

“Do your people have entertainment media? Books, movies, that sort of thing?”

[Affirmative,] appears on a mostly empty screen in front of him- it’s been a calm couple of days, the equipment not registering anything of import and leaving more than enough time for…well, whatever he wants, really. [Written works: currently most commonplace due to prolonged conflict. Holofilms available: old or amateurly produced.]

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense. Hollywood has slowed down production as well, quite a bit in the past years.” Getting attacked and smashed to smithereens several times over hadn’t helped much. They’ve always recovered though, actors and writers refusing to give up their art, even if their budgets were cut down severely. “What do you like, then? How do you spend your free time?”

[Free time: rare commodity.] Soundwave writes, and he chuckles because right, fair enough. Head communications officer for an army at war, with four kind-of-not-really kids? That’s got to be busy.

Still, though. “I understand, but surely there’s something you enjoy? Got a favorite book, or a poem?”

“Soundwave: partial to music.” A pause. Then- “Would you like to hear some?”

The offer, along with Soundwave’s real voice, make Cosmos’ heart pick up the pace. Alien music! He’s about to hear real, actual music from another planet! Nodding, he turns to the camera behind him and gives the mech a giddy smile.

Soon enough, a gentle melody begins pouring out of his headphones, and- whatever he’s expected, it was not this. The song - or composition, more like - is alien, oddly complex and unbelievably beautiful.

There are no lyrics, he doesn’t think, but the interplay of different instruments still seems to tell a tale as the song progresses, changing and twisting on itself. It makes him think of two people, of a longing he finds so familiar, of warm clasped hands and stolen moments between the cold of melancholy. He sits in his chair, silent and entranced, as the melody goes through a crescendo, a painful conflict, before mellowing and fading out, like a peaceful embrace of two souls, now finally united for good.

When it’s all over, seconds or minutes or hours later, his vision is blurry with unshed tears. At the other end of the call, he could almost swear he feels Soundwave’s presence, watching him, sharing this moment with him.

Cosmos feels warm.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the receiver, wiping at his eyes but smiling, and he feels more than hears Soundwave’s answering hum. “Could you play it again?” he asks after a few minutes, and when the melody fills his ears once more, he simply closes his eyes and lets himself be carried away.

-

“I forgot to ask before, but was that Cybertronian music?”

“Negative,” comes through his headphones. “Composition: created by organic species.”

“Oh!” he wasn’t really expecting that, but then again, maybe it should have. it didn’t sound very, ah, mechanical? “Do you have any more from the composer? Or at least the same people?”

“Soundwave: in possession of one more unfinished melody from composer. Cosmos: interested in listening?”

“Gladly. Why was it not finished, though, do you know? Did something happen to the composer?”

“Affirmative. Species: nearly eradicated by quintesson forces. Creator of piece: deceased.”

Oh. That’s- he doesn’t know what to say. He’d never really given much thought to how other species might have fared against the invasion. Or that they might have actually lost.

“I’d still like to hear it, I think,” he says quietly. There’s nothing he can do for them now, for these aliens he’d never even met, but- he can remember them, at least. Keep a tiny piece of them alive through this.

As the new melody surrounds him with its unearthly tones, Cosmos wonders what Soundwave would keep of humans, if they lose this fight. What Soundwave would keep of him.

-

It dwells on his mind for weeks after, filling his empty hours with maudlin thoughts. He knows by now how unbelievably long a cybertronian’s life is, that his own lifespan is but a speck of dust by comparison, but still. Would the mech keep his face in his memory banks, or the human music playlist he’d made for him? Would he carry a piece of Cosmos with him into the distant stars, keep him close to his spark, or would all they shared be forgotten?

How much does this - whatever they have - matter?

Because it matters to Cosmos. He’s not sure when that happened, but his fascination with the alien mech and enjoyment of his company became- more. Much more. Now, when his soul aches for the presence of another person, it’s not his friends on earth he imagines being held by, or his parents. It’s large silver servos, careful and precise. it’s staring up at a glowing red visor and watching the sun gleam of grey and blue plating. It’s just- Soundwave.

And, well. What is he supposed to do with that?

He knows Soundwave likes him, yes. Enjoys his company, sure, he wouldn’t bother talking with him so frequently otherwise. But is there more to it? Soundwave is a hard person to read, especially with their only method of communication being text and radio. Cosmos had no way to know if he’s like a- a pleasant coworker to the mech, or a true companion, someone actually important.

He doesn’t know, but by god does he hope.

The song they’re listening to comes to an end, bringing Cosmos out of his thoughts. And, yeah, that’s something they do now, listen to music together, looking for things the other might enjoy. That’s… that could mean something, right? Only people who actually care about each other do that, no?

A surprisingly loud, staticky hiss sounds in his ears all of a sudden, and Cosmos flinches. “Soundwave, what-“

“Lost light: arrival impending.”

“Wh- really? When?”

“ETA: thirteen hours local time.”

Oh.

Of course.

It’s just- over the past two months, he’d somehow managed to completely forget about incoming the ship. He’d been so focused on his growing relationship with Soundwave that the knowledge of why the mech was actually here slipped his mind. Now, with reality of the situation staring him in the face, a jittery sort of dread fills his heart.

“Soundwave,” he says, wringing his hands in his lap, “how’s- what’s going to happen now?”

“Negotiation: will begin with human governments. Jazz: will be returned home, accompanied by Prowl.”

This is the first time he’s hearing of this Prowl person, and he will ask later, but- “And what about you? What will you do now?”

“Soundwave: will remain on Earth, join negotiation process.” There’s a pause, then- “I do not wish to cease our interactions, even once my work here is done. If you call, I will always listen, friend Cosmos.”

And- it’s a relief, hearing that. A huge weight falls off of Cosmos’ shoulders, joy making his heart beat overtime, however- things will undeniably change now. Their mostly quiet, familiar routine won’t last once first contact begins in earnest, and they’ll both be busy with their respective work. He’s delighted to hear he won’t lose Soundwave’s voice in his ear, but-

His stay at the station ends in less than two weeks. He won’t get to actually see Soundwave, most likely, not again. Won’t ever be this close to him again, not in person. And that’s- he thinks of the emergency repair space suit shoved in the storage compartment, of the ticking clock, and makes a decision.

“Soundwave? You said you edited yourself out of footage in real time, when you first arrived here, right? Could you do it again?”

“Affirmative. Query: reason for question?”

“I just- there’s something I need to do.”

-

He approaches the station, gliding through the vacuum of space with ease. It’s a tiny thing, as many earth things are- barely bigger than him in root mode. He’s once again reminded of an earth saying, stating that good things come in small packages, and though he’s not fully certain of its original, intended meaning, he finds himself agreeing nonetheless.

Watching the precious, fragile little person climbing out of the hatch with anxious, unpracticed motions, it feels truer than ever before.

The man’s suit is a colorful thing, yellow and green with red accents, his head surrounded by a fragile looking bubble of glass, protecting him from certain death in the cold, airless void. His hair is a bright, cheerful red as well, only outshined by the force of his smile as pushes off the hull of the station and into Soundwave’s waiting servos.

“Hello, little watcher,” he says, leaving the vocoder off and letting his true voice sound through the suit’s speakers.

Somehow, the human’s smile grows wider, and Soundwave feels his spark pulse with fondness. “Hello, Soundwave,” he says softly, blinking up at him with a combination of awe and unbridled joy. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

If it’s anything like what he feels, Soundwave thinks as he brings the man closer, gently pressing his forehelm to the top of Cosmos’ helmet, then he can probably imagine.

[str8rat]

In Stars And Time - Fear and Hunger AU

ALSO WARNING, loss of limbs

remember kids, an unspoken rule of the artists; when they've got no twinkles in their eyes, you know they've had it bad.

WOOO ISA'S THE NEXT CHARACTER I DECIDED TO TRAUMATIZE!!!!! YAY!!!!

Mirabelle will be next <3

~ ~ ~

Isabeau; Ophthalmophobia ( fear of being stared at )

Effects; Lost his right arm

Info;

TW!!! DISMEMBERMENT IG aka backstory to how Isa lost his arm

A retired Defender of Jouvente. He capital-C-Changed his body, hoping to become someone that others wouldn't be ashamed of knowing. Lost his right arm months before the party reached Dormont, protecting Mirabelle from a fatal strike coming from a powerful Sadness.

Despite his loss, his bubbly and highly supportive personality remains, always caring for his companions. And even though he does mourn the fact of him most likely never being able to become a clothing designer with just one arm, he does not regret his decision one bit. He's just a stupid Defender, afterall, and Mirabelle is the Chosen one, the one blessed by the Change God, to defeat the King. She is more important than some puny guy that likes bad jokes.

Gets phantom pains quite often. He desperately tries to be the strong, optimistic member of the party, keeping up their morales and spirits, never wanting to let them down. Always hoping that his laughter will light up the room and help everyone forget about everything, if only for a little bit. He also lost his left earring in one of the battles against Sadnesses. Generally he is the person constantly getting hurt for his party, despite the scolding he gets for it regularely.

Due to his phobia, he dislikes crowds and the public, always feeling like he has eyes at the back of his neck. He hates it, and always tries to avoid eye contact while talking to someone. With the party's help though, he's been making progress! The feeling of eyes looking over his body reminds him of all his imperfections, and it makes him spiral, wondering if he is being stared at due to the flaws in his crafted body. It makes him want to Change into someone else.

And yet, he still silently hopes that maybe, just maybe, in an unspecified time in the future, he could make up for the missing earring, and put a bonding one in it's place, if he'd ever dare to confess to Siffrin. He cannot bring himself to do it though, thinking that maybe, even after everything, he may still not be good enough and worthy of being loved. All in all, he still remains just a coward.

~ ~ ~

Sooo yeah. I in all honesty could not find a better phobia for Isa. I've thought about the phobia of love ( his inability to confess ) or maybe the phobia of failure ( failing his friends ) but in the end I settled on a phobia that has him feeling like he is constantly stared at, so much so that he decided to Change his body. Honestly a terrifying phobia. And a very self-destructive one.

Anyways, that's all! see you tomorrow! we're ruining Mirabelle next <3

[alaskan-wallflower]

Hiya!! In your fantasy au (I’m sorry I forgot how to spell what the actual name of your au is 🥲) do the gang including the curtis’ have any weaknesses? And if they do how do they affect them? would they need help if they came into contact with their weakness?

(Literally obsessed with your au man 🤭)

Ooooh thank you!! I love hearing that people enjoy my au 😭🫶🏻

But yes!! The gang does have weaknesses! To even things out I decided that if a human cuts a piece of a Wretched off (for example taking one of Darry’s feathers) would give that human the ability of that Wretched. So if you cut off one of Darry’s tail feathers you would be able to control fire. So that could count as a weakness say if someone with a fire bound’s body part went up against Dallas—

There are small things though too! Like Pony is light bound, and if he’s in the dark for too long (like pitch dark-he gets energy from sun and moonlight-artificial lights somewhat but not really) he’ll get seriously sick and will end up dying or becoming Unspoken (which basically means his powers took control of his mind)-maybe i’ll do some angst w that lol

similar with Soda, like he can use his electricity for all sorts of things-he can act as a generator and can jumpstart cars like no other, but if he expels too much he ends up getting really sick and needs a bit of a “recharge” which can take a few days, or another electric bound could transfer some energy. Soda can also “overvolt” to which he becomes impossible to touch because he has so much electricity stored in him and it hurts a lot

Darry can’t really go into the water for too long-he also can’t really be in the cold for too long either. This part’s kinda based off Pokémon but Darry has a flame at the top of his tail that if he lets it go out he’ll end up getting so incredibly sick and could even die. Same with his chest fire-the reason they made him the shed he sleeps in now aaa because when he outgrew the house it had rained real bad that night and Mrs and Mr Curtis walked outside and saw that he was hardly breathing and the flame on his tail was so weak—it took days to get it to regenerate but he was practically in a coma. Real scary.

With Johnny since he isn’t necessarily your run of the mill element bound tends to be a little bit stronger, but it’s easy for him to slip into hallucinations, especially if he’s scared. He was actually given Alora and Almos (his little squirrel companions) because The Celestials thought he would need it and need the help regulating things, especially since it’s that much easier to slip into insanity when you’re bound to something that isn’t an element (dreams, time, sound, etc.) but with him pretty much any element can be used against him just the same and it would hurt just as much. I’m still working on a design concept so i’ll have to get back to you on him and two bit haha

But Dallas is much like Darry. He can’t be in the hot for too long and is absolutely hurt by fire and heat. Him and Darry have to be careful when hanging out sometimes—it’s how his brother Rusty was killed, Dallas has this ice chip embedded in his chest and if he gets that thawed somehow he’d die or get sick. Rusty was killed because they shattered his to the point he couldn’t regenerate it. I’m still kinda formulating him lol

Once I get an idea of Two’s design I’ll get back on him-

Steve and Ace are very much similar to Darry and Soda—Steve can’t be in the cold and Ace runs the risk of over or undervolting. Despite them both being metal bound it’s still a possibility. They’re also magnetic to an extent so do with that what you will.

It’s still a work in progress!! I didn’t have much time to do the rest :( but seriously i LOVE hearing that people enjoy my aus 🥺 This made me so happy to answer—if anyone else has any questions feel free to ask!! I’d love to answer!!

[cat-dragron-arts]

Never knew I could become fixated on my own silly Sonic Frontiers AU but it's finally at a point where I feel comfortable enough to share it with the wider world! I also wrote all this up at like midnight so sorry if stuff doesn't make sense.

Whole premise is "what if Shadow was in Frontiers" which isn't a unique thought but I wanted to try my own spin on it! Calling it the Mnemonic AU for now since that's just have I've been titling files I save for this as.

Mnemosyne Island replaces Rhea Island in terms of story progression, combining all of the towers into one. Still working on some of the finer details but the chaos emeralds are involved so that Sonic, Shadow and their koco companion can have some quality time together.

Also! Have some rough environmental drawings because I cannot get certain scenes out of my head!!

My whole goal of this was to explore a bit of the harder to obtain voice lines on Rhea Island and how that would play in to someone besides Sage being there to witness Sonic at his lowest before the corruption fully takes over.

Oh and also to have more qpr sonadow content that scratches my particular itch of them having an incredibly deep bond and how that gets put to its limit.

More doodles and ramblings under the cut!

I have most of the main story beats planned out especially with how the ending plays out. It would follow the Final Horizon update in terms of how Ouranos Island plays out plus! Then there's also more potential for character interactions which I adore exploring.

Got no idea for how Shadow ends up at the Starfall Islands. Maybe he's out with Rouge and Omega and he's the only one that finds the portal that ends up transporting him to the islands. Anyways, at least he and Knuckles have that in common.

Shadow's memory token is lavender which I used primarily because it's more neutral than some of the other symbols I see with Shadow a lot. His koco's design was... a pain but I'm ultimately happy with it since they are fun to draw hehe.

The fic itself is gonna be a long one!! Not sure how long yet as I'm still writing it but I've gotten rough drafts for the first three chapters with chapter four on the way. I'm guessing somewhere around 40-60 k words?? Based purely on the chapters I have written right now and how many words they are.

I'd love to post the fic at some point but I want to wait until I have a little more of a back log/more polished since it's my first fan fic and I am a little nervous about it haha.

If you read this far thank you??? It means a lot and I just hope people enjoy this silly au hehe.

[phoibos-querella]

made a sacrilegious tntduo au where wil is a mix of lucifer n adam and q is just. lilith

oops? 👉👈

summary of the au under the cut

[let me just say i had to do it to em I HAD to. cwilbur is so lucifer coded and cq is ALSO lucifer coded, but he's ALSO LILITH CODED]

[lucifer being god's most beautiful angel and leading the war against heaven and his fall parallel to l'manberg and pogtopia. lilith's fleeing from the garden of eden and adam parallel to cq making a coalition with schlatt instead of Wilbur in the elections. their sin of pride being the death of them and the themes of the deadly sin of lust shaming the sexuality of lilith and q. sorry.]

BUT THE SUMMARY OF THE AU is that tntduo is kind of adam and lilith. instead of humans, they're an instance of angels (holy creations built to serve god) that were sent to live in a newly built earth instead of heaven beside god. let's call them avians. theyre meant to found a paradise, and cwilbur (adam) is made in god's image (crowgod man maybe) and therefore the most beautiful creation, given most of the pressure n development of pride to create paradise. quackity doesn't like how he's treated when wilbur is blinded by his pride and insecurity, so he runs off one day.

when angels (probably ctechno) are sent after him and tell him he must come back or he'll be banished from paradise, he realizes he doesn't truly have freedom or respect in all of this. he refuses, and is demonized for denying the higher plan. wilbur is distraught, and sooner rather than later a new avian is introduced, clearly to replace his ex companion

(it's sally she has blue heron wings and she's eve and she follows a similar path to q seeking higher knowledge and progress n evolution and wilbur does move on n love her and love their son fundy but he also understands where q and sally were coming from with their disobedience towards higher authorities and he had sally's back but he understands now that he wants to change paradise n he wants to change heaven)

I'm still figuring out their demonized designs for the au as well as what happens next, but lilith was the first to enter hell. then lucifer and his army followed. there's a lot of confusion as to who is satan, ruler of hell. supposedly it would be the creator of hell, but who created it first? lucifer or lilith? i want this angsty yip yap of them being the "monsters" of this world, the root of all evil, symbolized by their shameful pride and lust(in addiction and casino self indulgences). at the end of their story they find each other again. aight ty for coming to my tedtalk 😊

[alexatheris-44]

Spoiled Rotten

(Darksiders, Against Creation AU)

-

CW: Torture, blood, injury

Summary: After sending Anathem to pursue a lead, Death finds himself alone with no news of what happened to his companion for quite some time… And so he’s captured a lowly imp to get some answers, by any means necessary.

> An exploration of AC!Death’s sadistic side, and how in this universe his specific field of “knowledge” is his deadliest weapon~

vvvv Start Reading under the GIF :D vvvv

Death hated when things didn’t go to plan. He’d spent days collecting what tidbits of useless gossip Hell’s denizens flitted back and forth and stringing them into a semi-solid lead to further his pursuits. Days spent waiting, listening, planning. Once his plan was fully formed of course he had sent his best to enact it; Hells, he’d have gone himself if there weren’t need for such constant secrecy.

But that was about a week ago— a week of silence, of neither progress nor setback reported, by spies or his emissary. He truly hated when things didn’t go according to plan, though not as much as he despised the thing he held —pinned and prisoner— to his table. He watched it, burning eyes narrowed and sharp as a predator’s, slowly counting down in his mind the few more seconds he wished to watch it writhe and squirm against the cherry-thick spikes nailed in each of its bony wrists.

“Where is he?” When he finally spoke his voice came low and growling. The creature merely snarled in reply; a raspy crackle of a sound, as though static was awakening in its maw. Before it could even think of casting its pitiful little spark show, Death reached to grab a full bucket by the rim and doused his prisoner in its contents, much to its immediate discontent.

“I know you speak, imp. A rarity for your kind, perhaps, but I made sure to select carefully. Best answer my question before you begin wasting my time.” Before the creature could make a single defiant sound Death had its jaw locked in his grip, forcing its silence and to hold still as he leaned in closer.

“Where. Is. He?”

“Piss off, Stragnat!” Its hoarse voice spat between tightly clenched teeth, cussing at its captor in one of the many infernal languages. Death actually found the slightest bit of humor to its choice of insult, momentarily dulling the lively flames of his dawning rage. Such a Hellizen specific slur… He leaned closer in, that the creature might see past the crimson tainted horns and curled tusks of his mask, to stare into the depths of his endless inferno and find the real origin of his being.

“As if even the river Styx could contain me.” His cold purr rattled in his throat, scarred lips curling up in a cruel smile as he saw fear flicker in the eyes of the lowly hellborn. He released its face with a forceful twist of its head, nothing so strong as to break its neck —though he was more than capable of doing so— but enough to communicate he was holding back in his force.

“No… You— the Nephilim were all killed!” It but barely let out the words before it cried out, pained, another thorned spike now stabbed into its palm and made to twist.

“Slaughtered,” Death felt the need to correct, his grip leaving the nail after he deemed the barbs had sufficiently hooked and twisted into ligament, blood vessels and bone.

”But not all. And my vengeance relies on the return of my ally.”

He turned his back as if suddenly discussing purposeless gossip over a cup of tea, his hands pouring over the other three barbed stakes he’d laid out neatly on a leather wrapping. His fingers drummed over which to use next, each thick sliver of infernal iron serving the same purpose but with varying jagged shapes to their make. Each was designed to be painful, uneven; to rake through flesh and leave an even greater wound upon removal.

“I’ll ask but one last time, though you are undeserving of such grace. Tell me where he is and you will have spared yourself further torment.”

“Rot with your kin, Nefyl.” Its defiance was expected, nothing ever went easy in the Hells. But then this is what he’d hoped for; he would take his time, make it hurt.

“The better part of my millennia has been dedicated to studying the inner workings of life, in any form I can lay upon my table. Perhaps it wouldn’t surprise you to learn most of my subjects were of demonic kin.”

“Ha! A Nephilim scholar?” The imp began to quip but swiftly regretted this as it was stabbed in its clavicle, Death’s hand just out of reach for it to bite. Another twist of the spike to hook deep into the tissue, then Death took up another nail.

“It is a curious thing, but your specific kind has a few oddities to their anatomy. As I’ve learned, there are several spaces near the vital organs that, if one is aiming carefully, can pass a blade right through with no risk of death.” The Firstborn carefully traced his calloused fingers over the demon’s chest, eyes so fixed it was as if he was peering past opaque skin. In that moment the creature’s threats were merely the angry buzzings of a fly, swatted out of Death’s attention as he found what he was looking for.

“Yes, there should be one right about… here.” He began to push the nail into the creature’s chest, marrow-tone flesh made to puncture as the stake pierced. The creature’s blood sizzled when it came in contact with the water pooled under it, a similar hiss and sputter to the sounds emitted by the hellborn’s mangled snarl. It turned to howl as the barbs scraped by the bones of its ribs.

“Mercy! Mercy!” It shrilled its plea as if a banshee, its insides feeling to shred as the thorn bit and tore its inner tissue, pushing deeper and deeper. Death did not slow his crawling pace at its begging, taking great care to keep his pressure consistent and continuous.

“Careful you do not distract me. I’ll be nearing your heart around now.” As if to further make his point, Death rolled his wrist to twist into the surrounding flesh, the resulting gashes likely not unlike the grooves of a screw. There wouldn’t be any way to confirm this until after he removed the thorn. The creature truly thought to fear for its life, the sting of its nerves shredded raw as if acid had been poured into the wound, and it only worsened as more and more of the stake disappeared into its body. Despite the unceasing agony the hellborn was distinctly aware of when the serrated teeth scraped by its spine, only feeling the slightest relief as the point pierced out of the skin of its back, as if a release of pressure. The barbs were not done their travel through its body until the stake was firmly nailed in the supporting table, made to twist to each side to further drive it home. There was a sting with each beat of its right-leaning heart, pinpricks to each heave of breath, but to its surprise it was still alive… only in an aching excruciation. Death did not grant it the moment to settle and familiarize with this pain, the final nail already firmly held within his impatient palm.

“This is the last of the thorns I have on hand,” the Nephilim informed, making sure the creature could see how it twirled between his fingers, as if Death were immune to the hooks embedded in the dark iron.

“But you will experience torment for as long as you keep silent.”

He found another target spot right about where the creature would’ve had a navel and slowly reintroduced unharmed flesh to harmful metal. The creature howled again, its guts feeling to have been grabbed and twisted in an unforgiving fist.

“I know nothing!” It dared cry out, all malice drained from its rasp as it writhed. The imp’s body had been pinned down in a manner as to allow all the squirming it could desire, but this was not done in mercy; the more its instinct to flee surged forward, the more its own flesh was being made to dig and scrape against the thorns and their horrid teeth.

“You know your master—” Death corrected its assertion, pushing the stake deeper still, “—you know his domain, and the location of his keep. Start there.”

The blue-tone blood spilling forth turned a murky green as Death suddenly angled the thorn’s descent, accompanied by the crunch of the demon breaking a tooth in the clench of its jaw at the torture. A torn organ was an anguish unknown by most, for good reason. He left the thorn embedded at its angle, so that the creature could fester as it oozed its liquid viscera; this injury would not be lethal, but it would be a hard wound to heal.

“It appears I’ve now run out,” Death hemmed aloud, the faintest hint of cruel mirth slithering into his icy tone as his grip found the stake he earlier stabbed in the demon’s palm. Before it could protest, he ripped it away with no regard for the flesh, the sight of the mangled hole left behind as repulsive and torn as the sound of its shriek. Its arm spasmed at the elbow, unable to flail out and strike him as the creature would’ve desired had it’s wrist not still been impaled. So much moving around of the limb displeased the Nephilim, and so the thorn found its new home in the pinning of its bicep.

“Cease this, please!” It begged at the pain of a torn muscle, eyes wide and feverish as Death next grabbed the nail in its clavicle.

“Your pleading only serves to waste your breath.” A wicked idea piqued his mind as he spoke; why not then make each breath count? He was as unceremonious removing this thorn as he was the first, and quickly held it angled flat with the table to point inward, positioned below the last of its ribs.

“No… no, I-I of beg you—” Whatever it had else to prattle was obliterated as Death plunged the thorn with speed unlike the previous piercings. The sound it made was not a cry or scream, but a gargled sigh as air quickly escaped its lungs. Now each of its heaving breaths came struggled and laced in pain, each expanding of its lungs a serrated caress against teasing hooks. It breathed as slowly as it seemed possible to mitigate damage, hissing ragged each time. Death watched with feasting fire, counting down from five in his mind and steadying his spirit. He would not waste time hunting down another pawn that wouldn’t be missed, and so had to remain careful of how harsh he made the demon’s treatment. Then, as he was ready to proceed, he went for the stake by its heart.

“I yield! I yield!” Its voice shook as Death’s knuckles whitened under the pressure in his grip, promising the pull of this thorn would be slow. The Nephilim paused, the horrifying image of his looming form held still as a statue —poised to strike at the blink of his will— prolonged and sewing new terror in the creature now that it was granted moment to think, to imagine what other horrors it would be subject to if it did not speak the right words.

“Boiled Ridge— he’d be at Boiled Ridge. The dungeon hangs over the river… the only way there is if you fly.”

“Or enter the front door.”

The creature let free a weak laugh, as if forgetting to whom it spoke.

“You’re mad. He’s likely to already be dead.”

Death regarded it with a new spark in his eyes; something cold, cold enough to freeze over every layer Hell’s horrors had to offer. Yet at the same time the heat of the room seemed to flee by how harshly seared his wrath. Perhaps the demon felt the chill now inhabiting the air, or simply peered back to the blaze of Death’s glare— either way, the colour drained from its face as Death stiffened his back and flexed his grip tighter around the thorn.

“Wait—” The imp’s breath wheezed, panic beginning to settle in as the leather wrappings over Death’s hand creaked.

“I-I told you what you wanted! You said the torture would cease if I gave what you asked!!”

“And so your usefulness ends.” The very darkness of the Abyss spoke through his throat as Death growled; a guttural rattle of a sound.

The imp did not die quickly.

—

The heat that rose from the glowing river below was sweltering, a constant heavy haze rippling the air and vaguely dulling the senses the longer the exposure. Thankfully for Anathem, the chains of Malediction carried their own soulful cold he could coil around himself to fight against the blistering. It helped the air feel lighter, as well as soothe the aching of his broken ankles. Despite the black stone floor being the only surface between him and the churning magma below, it was certainly a better place to sit than atop the metal slab you could laughably consider a bed.

Despite the heat, despite the pain, these were certainly not the worst conditions he’d ever found himself in. It wasn’t even that remarkable a dungeon; he’d have broken out by now if he was reasonably able to stand. He only needed a little time, soon enough he would either get the opportunity to recover or—

Battlecries. Distant clashing of steel, one sided bellowing of charging foes, the thudding of bodies falling dead… the sudden cut to their cries. First a distant whisper coming to grow nearer and nearer; the tremors as heavy boots, hooves and claws thundered the floors reverberating through the stone until right outside the dungeon’s entrance.

Then it all fell quiet, eerily so. A stretched moment of silence, followed by the light clinking of heavy-cast keys and door locks. The following cacophonous boom of the door being forced open shook the entire dungeon all the way through to the walls of Anathem’s cell, and still he did not stir from his spot. The man did not need to count the approaching steps to know when the visitor found his cell, even if only silence hung the air as they stopped.

“You took your time,” Anathem’s voice hummed as he cracked open his eyes, his head still facing forward to the other wall as he shot a sideways glance to his towering cohort. He stood stock still, looming in his own shadow which stretched past the bars into the cell as if reaching to touch Anathem at the far side. The fresh blood dripping from his full scythe blade and splattered across his chest was still evaporating in the heat of the Hells, revealing bit by bit the long and pronounced scar centered down his exposed pectorals. To cast his eyes slightly upwards would lock Anathem’s gaze with His, an idea most would feel compelled to avoid… but to the living Abomination, it was as if Death’s fire-born glower had him magnetized. The bars of the cell were so hot as to sizzle against the Nephilim’s touch, yet he forced the door open with one hand without so much as a twitch.

“Have you anything to say for yourself, concerning your shameful capture?” Death sounded coarse as he took a step nearer, his gravelled tone mirroring the scowl carved into his horned and tusked skull mask. Anathem was now bathed in his darkness, the fire hues of the river below framing the Firstborn in an outline of glowing inferno.

He at last turned his face to take in the imposing sight of Death with all four of his eyes. He breathed a dry scoff before he next spoke, providing the Reaper his answer.

“I just did.”

The tension between them could have cut any intruder to their conversation as if physically a knife, hovering instead over both their heads as they held the silence. That is, until Death let out a chuckle.

He spun Harvester in his hand as to extend the end of the bone handle to Anathem, an offer to help him up and on his feet. But the Abomination merely stared back flatly, a slight raise of his scarred remaining eyebrow. The Nephilim rolled his eyes with a sigh, a flick back of his wrist returning his large blade to him and with his other hand raising to meet at the center of the handle -with a near imperceptible transformation- separated the weapon into halves; twin identical scythes, which he returned folded at his either side. Both hands now freed, Death stepped closer and leaned forward to offer Anathem his hand instead, which finally prompted the man to move from his corner. Anathem gladly accepted the amended offer, clawed left hand grasping Death’s thick wrist before his four-fingered right one swung up to clasp further up on his partner’s forearm. The Nephilim did not shift or question as Anathem heaved himself up from the ground, instead offering assistance by raising his arm for the Abomination to climb onto his broad shoulders with nothing more than a pointed look.

“Ankles were the first thing they broke,” Anathem answered the unspoken inquiry with little less than a shrug. He winced as his feet dragged awkwardly behind him, but just like Malediction’s chains, the absence of heat given off by Death’s skin aided to soothe the ache.

“Could you not heal?” Death lowered his large beast-pelt hood, exposing his head to sight in effort to offer a “pouch” of sorts for his companion’s limp appendages. Anathem hummed in thanks, the two beings’ difference in size almost allowing him to fully sit in it himself.

“Healed everything else. Haven’t fed in three days.”

Once Anathem had settled and stabilized himself up on Death’s shoulders, the Reaper began making for the way he came— once the entrance, now their exit. Harvester returned in its full form to its master’s grasp, poised once more to rend lives and devour souls.

“There will be plenty of flesh for you to feast on the way out,” Death informed, approaching the gaping threshold of the reinforced door to the dungeon he had kicked in to enter.

“You know I prefer seconds fresh,” Anathem replied, almost sounding bored. “Save your kills for mongrels of inferior tastes.”

As if to answer his declaration, a score of demon underlings burst through the doors at the other end of the long hall, growling and roaring at the sight of their fallen and strewn about comrades. They then all singled their rage on the only two living entities intruding their master’s keep.

“I did not kill everyone.” Though the mask hid it, Anathem Just knew Death’s face hosted the smuggest of smiles. The sound of the Abomination’s laugh croaked crisp and clear in the Nephilim’s ears.

“Death, you spoil me~” Anathem mused, The hooked fang-blades of Malediction already summoned to his mismatched hands as Death entered a readied stance with his partner perfectly balanced atop him.

“Rotten,” replied the Reaper, then charged.

[rachelbethhines]

60 Years of Doctor Who Anniversary Marathon - C. Baker 6th Review

Doctor Who and the Mines of Terror - Video Game

The Mines of Terror is actually the third Doctor Who game ever made. (We'll be coming back to the the second, text based, game later.) It is however the first to physically feature the Doctor on screen. Released in 1985, the incarnation featured here is unmistakably the Sixth Doctor.

The story of the game is that the Master is mining a rare metal that will power a device that will allow him to re-write time to his liking; rearranging events to suit his needs.

The Doctor is sent by the time lords to stop him. He has to explore the mine for items that will help him progress and destroy the machine. All while surviving enemy encounters and making it back to the Tardis in one piece.

To help him in this task he is given the robot cat Splinx as a companion.

As a cat person myself, I really like the concept of Splinx, but I'm not very sure what she does for the game. Apparently Splinx can carry more items then the Doctor could himself and so acts as an inventory holder within the game.... except the Doctor has to carry Splinx around in order to unitize this feature, thereby making such a game mechanic kind of pointless.

I understand that in 1985 there wasn't really the ability to create a secondary AI character that would follow the main character around, let alone the technology to create a multi-player experience, but it does kind of feel like a waste of an idea.

Like why couldn't you just program the main avatar to have that same inventory space on them as at all times to begin with?

Sadly Splinx would only ever reappear once more in an AU audio story.

As for the game play itself, it's basically a Mario Bros/Donkey Kong rip off but with one big map to explore rather then multiple linear levels. You can go back, forth, up, or down, at any point you wish, and the game expects you to back track to different areas to collect more stuff.

The game ends when you either run out of lives or return to the Tardis. However, while you can re-enter the Tardis at any time, it won't be considered a true win until you've collected everything.

Where Mines of Terror fails, is the same reason as the First Adventure, bad stage design.

While one could argue that this third outing is marginally better then the first, it still is thwarted by the strange need to be 'organic'. Craggy, jagged lines and slopping platforms make up the ground layout, while the ceiling will hang too low and uneven in certain places.

All this, plus a nerfed jump, makes platforming and exploring difficult. Now add in a zoomed in camera that you have to wait on to move with you to see ahead which forces you to make leaps of faith constantly and you have a very frustrating experience.

I genuinely can't recommend this game to anyone other then the most hard core enthusiast. You're better off watching a lets play on youtube or reading the game manual if you want to experience the story.

[fullcry]

*knocks on your askbox* hostage/creature vash au?? may i ask for more details please 👀👀👀

You may!

So, I've had this fic outlined for a while but I wasn't going to work on it until maybe the end of May? I wanted to finish Memories on Film and Biology first, then make more progress on Love and Peace and Gunsmoke.

BUT. @zeearts had to go and create this incredible creature!Vash design and it just got my brain spinning all sorts of gears and now I'm back to dabbling with the Hostage AU!

Basically, the story goes something like this:

Meryl grows up in a rural town without a plant whose primary trade is worm hunting. They've got industrial production going, trading their goods for water from July and other essential resources. There's problems in the town, and being close to July they are firmly within the thrall of the Eye of Michael (except Meryl, ofc, because our girl is Smart and Knows a cult when she sees one).

Well one day Meryl gets chosen as a sacrifice and she gets taken to July where she's put in service to Knives and Conrad as sort of a glorified maid/caretaker to this strange creature Knives proclaims is his brother. Meryl doesn't know what's going on and the whole things seems hella sus and what the fuck is this bird thing huddled in the corner, but she does what she's told and pretends to be a Meek Believer while she tries to figure out how to bust out.

Meanwhile, in the background:

Knives, unable to forcibly control Vash's gate, has proceeded with his "Destroy the Parasites" master plan using the Eye of Michael to start a holy war while he hopes that giving Vash a little of what he wants--a human companion--will weaken his resolve and/or give Knives something to hold over him so he can gain some kind of leverage in this battle of wills with his brother.

Unbeknownst to Meryl Conrad is also plotting, secretly dosing her food with drugs to use her as Test Subject 1 in his plan to create part-plant humans. He hopes that he can secretly dose the water supply he controls to get the drug out to the masses and create hybrid humans that might stand a chance of surviving Knives' war and win a place in his Eden.

Wolfwood, the one responsible for capturing Vash and bringing him to Knives, is also skulking around Knives' lil July penthouse. They've got a baby Livio hostage they're using as leverage and Wolfwood wants his lil bro back and is making his own plan to bust him out while Knives and Conrad are distracted with their war.

Back to Meryl.

Our girl slowly befriends dear Creature!Vash, locked away in his lil plant-proof chamber. He's half-delusion from Knives' mind-fuckery, and through kindness and patience Meryl slowly brings him back to himself.

One day Meryl and Wolfwood meet, and together they strike up a plan to bust everyone out--her, Vash, Wolfwood, and Livio. But things don't go according to plan...

I've been dabbling with it a bit the past few days, though I'm TRYING to stick to the goals I set for myself as much as possible (I have a Patreon now and I'm trying to stick to an actual schedule!) but you know how inspiration can be <sob> It controls me I don't control it.

Speaking of Patreon, for anyone interested I'll be posting WIP snippets of this fic and other ideas this upcoming week on my page!

[whizzinpast]

Ahoy, Stranger

Call me Whizz. I’m just a local cryptid in her twenties rambling about a cutesy little web series. I also write stories about the losers in this cutesy little web series.

Interested in Alien Stage (ALNST)?

Check out this post here. It’s a pretty good guide. It gives you pointers on where to start, and where to find all the juicy lore bits. If you have any questions, theories or prompts you’d like to discuss, there’s a button where you can transmit your message riiight up there ⬆️ (a.k.a. The askbox).

Experiencing heartbreak over recent developments? There’s a tissue box as well.

Tag Guide (a work in progress atm)

#whizz talks - general rambles

#whizz prompts - ALNST prompts, AUs and such

#whizz WIPs - ALNST written works in progress

#whizz writes - ALNST fanfiction, only finished chapters and full works

#whizz bits - small ALNST drabbles, or shorter, mostly written to get a better understanding of characters

#whizz talks fic - where I talk about my writing process (read: scream at my blorbos as if they’re underpaid employees and I’m a capitalist tyrant)

Fanfiction List

Lord, Give Me One More Chance (M rated, IvanTill) / AO3

Summary: Till’s journey to the grand finale is littered with needles, teeth and ghosts of his dead gods. Somehow, Ivan follows him.

Till drags himself on stage with a new Class-0 segyein companion; a mottled electric guitar with three different eyes above its bridge and pickups. Each looked deader than the last. Staples lined its bruised body, adding to the notion that Till stitched dead alien parts into an instrument of his design. He called it Freddie 2.0 at an interview.

Nobody was surprised. The macabre was his brand, and the audience loved the contrast between the finalists— a winner and a half-dead brat barely fighting to stay alive.

Dead Poet (draft stage)

Summary: Prior to their match, Ivan pays Till one last visit. It goes as well as one would expect.

“Don’t you want this?” Till spat, his fists still shaking despite the grip he had on his dress shirt.

Fingers quietly trailed up his hips, his stomach. It felt surgical. “What I wanted,” Ivan said, his voice as cool as a scalpel, “was to know whether I should be expecting to find you or a zygote nest.”

Of course he would. Five brand deals depended on the revenue of their match. Till would tell him he had nothing to worry about.

Or, Mizi’s honeyed lilt objected, maybe he just wanted to see you before it’s over.

She said it so purely Till was tempted to believe it.

[gelu-the-babosa-multiversal]

Hi little babosa,

Guess who is here? /j

I have a doubt from your last post of information, I'm confused with the timeline, Usagi and Leo disappear together, Jotaro's village is attacked, Katsuichi takes care of Jotaro, Sasuke helps with the curse, Yukichi leaves his journey to help Jotaro, Noriyuki becomes his brother, and because of closeness he befriends Tomoe Ame? When does Kintaro enter here? Or Tomoe's cousin (I know her name, I just don't like her), can you tell or does it count as a spoiler for what's to come? Even if you call this AU "Jotaro meets Leo" everything before that can count as spoiler?

As a side note, your design of Yukichi is beautiful.

THANK YOU SO MUCH. You are lucky because is Yukichi the first one I'm doing. I'm testing how well I can replicate Stan Sakai's style.

As for the Timeline is not much of a spoiler, is more that some things are still not planned or are still in progress.

Tomoe and Jotaro just met once and that was in Usagi's grave as many thought that he had died for sure this time, as he had disappeared sometime before the Yokai bloody night.

As much as Tomoe wanted to stay at Jotaro's side (because she only knew that Usagi was his uncle), she did not want to suffer more. The night the Yokai's attacked many of her companions died, and her brother was almost killed (they both had a rough fight after it was revealed that Tajima could no longer fight), treads from Noriko started to come at her door... and of course, her duty as Lord Noriyuki's bodyguard came first...

You could say that Jotaro and Tomoe's relationship is mostly complicated...

Noriyuki tends to visit Jotaro alone with a different bodyguard. Gorogoro and Kyoko are there too sometimes.

As for Tomoe Ame, Noriko, and Tajima that is a whole different arc that maybe won't have Jotaro included. There might be a fight between the Blood Princess with Jotaro and his new friend ¨Leo¨ just to show how strong she is and the power of her curse (I hope that in my last post, it was clear that she is also cursed... but if not I clarify here. Her ability has to do with blood manipulation) but at the end, it will be a fight between Noriko and Tomoe. Tajima's fate is still insured...

For Kintaro and Akemi, their roles come maybe as one of Usagi's first important missions under Lord Mifune's bodyguard role, and mostly for being the ¨first time¨ Usagi meets the turtles and *his* Leo. Kintaro is just like it was shown in the TMNT2012 series just that here is all grown up and protecting the borders of Noriyuki's kingdom (you know, because he has godly powers... but was too far away to help in the fight against the Yokais)

I hope this helped. Keep asking if you want!

[verdantglow]

I don't know if i just missed a post or something (im sorry if i have)

but do you plan to include any human companions as well? or is this au focusing solely on the trolls?

Do you only plan on including those 6 in the post you made?

dont mind me, im gonna be a regular customer, i love talking about this stuff

You totally have not missed a post, I just haven’t really mentioned the basics of this AU have I lol?

I decided to take the idea of a Homestuck AU a little sideways in that it’s not an AU about Sburb or anything, it just takes place in Alternian society. All the characters are trolls existing sometime after the deaths of most of the ancestors we see in Homestuck, but enough before the Vast Glub that they manage to live to significant adulthood. While they started playing VR Flarp as adolescents, in the present day, they are all adults on various ships out in space. (Exceptionally few, if any, are on official Alternian ships doing official Alternian business. Heck, quite a few of them would probably be killed on sight if they encountered an official ship. A lot of our cast are on rogue ships in varying degrees of being cobbled together from whatever they pick up from various worlds. There are a couple, though, who still have standing in Alternian society.)

The cast for this AU, as it currently stands, includes all 18 current & past participants in the traffic series. I had been planning on designing & drawing all of them before posting, but I’d been sitting on those six drawings for well over a month without progress & decided to share to see if it inspired me to do more for it. (This has been a raging success! I am now so fucking amped for this AU again!)

Also holy shit, hell yeah, please do be a regular customer, I have so many thoughts & ideas, but unfortunately also have ADHD & three other conditions causing brain fog, so may organizational abilities are kinda shot. Getting questions about this AU seriously makes my day every time. I will take any opportunity to ramble about my AUs.

(Relatedly, to anyone reading this, if you wanna send in asks with a character, I will totes tell you everything about them I have figured out. This includes things like blood colour, troll name, lusus, who they’re traveling with & what they all get up to, etc. Also I’ll try to do some art of whoever you ask about! This is contingent on my art brain returning from the war, but I will do my damnedest to include at least some doodles! Just make sure to let me know you’re specifically asking about this AU to help me avoid confusion.)

[jeldacat]

Prince Charming…

Oh hey I finally finished this drawing that I started a year ago. Yay.

As I promised on Insta, here’s an update on my au, The Shattered Era:

Some progress in the story has been made. My main goals for the near future are writing down some more notes, and finally posting some character designs!

So about this piece specifically, I was thinking about the relationship between Link and Proxi, and how much Proxi really loves and values her friendship with Link. He saves her from monsters at the beginning of the game and she stays with him from then on. (To my knowledge, she’s the only fairy companion that does NOT ditch Link at the end of the game) This companionship continues in the au, she’ll be like the cheery angel on his shoulder urging him forward.

And about Link’s fancy outfit, I’m thinking later in the story he sort of rises in both military and social rank. As his rank/ class rises, he’ll be getting fancier clothes, hence, “prince charming” 😝. I look forward to designing more royal looking clothes for him and Zelda in the future…