#my first au huh

[willyhoos]

a very self indulgent twipri au i made... vampire!zelda x vampire hunter!link..

in which a rancher from ordon is suddenly afflicted with lycanthropy, and hunts down the cursed hylian queen who is absolutely, DEFINITELY responsible for it...

(spoilers: he's Mega Wrong)

a bit more info about the au below the cut!

"Link, go assassinate the Hylian queen so we can go back to living normally." instructions unclear i have fallen in love with her

midna is somewhere probably maybe once i figure out what to do with her .

[ghostreblogging]

Ok ok so hear me out Twins au. Danny and Damian are twins. And you know the whole story. Danny gets "killed " moves in with the Fenton's and becomes phantom. Ad Damian doesn't know that. Well the magician summoning Damian's dead brother to enact his revenge on him has a very bad timing

"Oh robin. Dont you know the dead can have fangs. I've heard of a little tale. Of how you killed your own brother. Your twin in a quite a cruel and merciless way don't you think?" The magician drawls on over the horribly over used repetitive lines.

But it still stops Damian in his tracks. He can see as his family stop and look at him. With the look of horror and well concern. And he hates it. He can feel their gazes on him and it burns his skin.

He stops and tries to yell at them. To do something. To stop dawdling around.

Until a right flash of green stopped him. The circle lit up as a clawed hand grasped the edge from inside.

Unfortunately the magician wasn't a phony.

The being slowly crawls itself out. It's wearing striped prison clothes with conically oversized shackles? Huh.

Damian muses to himself as he prepares for battle . Must represent his or rather their lives in the league of assassin's.

The being finally looks up and shouts

"HAHA YOU CAN SUC MY DIC WALKER. I MAY BE OUT NOT ON MY OWN VOLITION BUT IM GONNA DO GHOST CRIMES AGAIN . And there's nothing you can do about it. "

"Ghost crimes exist? What even are ghost crimes???" Dick whispered to Jason

"I don't know but I am so angry at the implications of ghost cops. " Jason replies

[blackkatdraws2]

Grown men giggling and kicking their feet.... [Blank Scripts AU]

[starry-bi-sky]

i think i'm hilarious -- aka i made blood blossom danny au memes

all of these come from my DpxDC prompt "i am pushing the batdad agenda--" and it's corresponding additions in the reblogs ksdjlf.

i am. rotating them in my head. forever and always. personally i think there should be more batdad aus in dpxdc, their dynamic could be neat. :)

[edorazzi]

Page 23 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which Adrien is more interested in his drink than Felix's "villain arc", and back in 1999 baby Felix is having a tough time! 😔🩹

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Weekly updates each Sunday! You can also read ahead early on Patreon, and/or buy me a Ko-fi if you'd like to support my work! 💖

[nocofamilyau]

I sure hope Hijotee is doing well wherever they may be... (21/24)

[feelo-fick]

miscellaneous au doodles + a VERY self indulgent song lyric comic :D

+ extra evil comic below the cut :

"chil!" "don't look at me like that..."

[doctorsiren]

A few doodles while I was in class earlier today

Investigations has been bringing Defenseworth back to the front of my brain

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

assorted scribbles and Love Bites!!!!

[lovesickeros]

☆ love; heretical and divine

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 0.8k

To love a God is heretical. It is an act of blasphemy– it is to drag them down from their throne of hollow gold, to topple the pedestal the worshipers uphold on their shoulders like lambs at the herders heel. It is the act of forcing them to their knees and ripping that beating heart of glorious gold and beautiful, cruel divinity from their chest, so pure it burns.

To love a God is to make them sin. To make them painfully, horribly human.

To love a God is to sin.

The love of a worshiper is no love at all, brilliant in its raw purity, untainted by sin. It is fear and obedience masked by adoration so overpowering it corrupts. It makes the lamb so unquestioning in it's faith it will never question the knife that cuts, the teeth that rip, the claws that tear. If the Creator deemed them unworthy of the very life crafted by their hands, then they must have committed a sin so grave there lay no salvation for their horrid soul.

But she is no worshiper– her lips speak of heresy as easily as she breathes, her words nothing but lies, cold and cruel like the ice that crawls along her skin like webs.

She loves a God like a lover should.

A damned sinner reaching longingly for the heavens.

She loves a God in the subtle brush of their lips, their muffled voices behind closed doors as they indulge in curiosity untamed. She is a sinner through and through, but she feels herself fall further with every brush of her hand across their cheeks, every touch she bestows upon them like a lover. She memorizes the imperfections of their body like memorizing a map– every scar, every mark, every line drawn on their body like a canvas, her touch the brush that stains the pristine white.

No devoted lamb shall ever see the painting they create in these stolen moments– it is for the eyes of a heretic so vile it makes them shudder, their body dirtied by the love of a woman so vile even their divinity is obscured by the ice.

The lambs may be satisfied with fleeting glimpses of gold and empty words from lips that guide them to the jaws of the wolves, but she is not. Her hands crave them like a starving hound, aching to touch that imperfect skin hidden by the veil of gold that obscures the painfully human body beneath. She longs to free them from the golden cage that binds them– to see their wings blot out the sky, their divinity tainted by sin and making them all the more beautiful for it.

It is a longing that leaves a festering wound that cannot heal, will not heal. Even if it could, she would not let it.

For as much as she tries, deny it as she may, she is no better then the blind lambs following the herder who holds a blade in their hand, glittering like gold in the sun, stained by dull red.

She is a fool, and what a fool they make of her with the touch of their hands against her skin– so cold it leaves frost on their fingertips. Yet they do not fear the cold, mapping out every inch of her imperfections, carved into her body by her own hands.

She has always been a heretic, cursing the divine until she could speak no more, but if divinity can be found in them – in this love that consumes, that burns her hands and her lips – then she is a Saint, praying at the altar until her throat bled.

But in the end, she has and will always be a cold woman with hands stained with blood. Until it is all she can taste, until it is all she can smell, until it is all she can feel. These hands of hers, heretical and divine, will bleed the God from their veins– she will become the wolf to their lamb until the rivers of Teyvat run gold with their ichor, until the gold bleeds into red, the taste of their divinity on her tongue.

Until she drags a God from their lofty throne and makes of them a monster.

There is no greater triumph to the heretic then to love a God into sin. To make a God sin to love.

To love is to be human, and they are no God.

Even if she must tear the gold from their very being until all that's left is something human. Even if Teyvat crumbles and decays, even if it begins over and over again..

She will do it again and again, until the gold can bleed no longer. Until her sins grow too great for Teyvat to contain.

To love a God is to devour, and be devoured. An endless cycle of sin that dulls the glow of gold into something new– something horrifying and divine, in it's own right. Something just as horrid as her, just as divinely corrupted by the sins she carries on her shoulders like a trophy, as gold as the sun and as cold as ice.

Divinity, carved into something human by love all consuming, until it all bleeds away and they begin their dance anew, for as many cycles as it takes.

An eternity, if she must, of dooming this world of theirs to fire and decay for a glimpse of the being snared by their golden shackles.

[pluvio-floret]

Ah, tragedy au (said like Dungeon Meshi. Winged Lion voice.)

Original post

[benny-the-spaceman]

bout 2 go 2 work, here are some doodles ive been doing as breaks between cosplay stuffs (:

[ghostreblogging]

Damian stands before the corpse of his brother.

Is it a corpse? He doesn't know.

They had come to this lonely stretch of land that was once called amity park because something something. Damian hadn't really cared. It was supposed to be a simple get in and get out situation . They were already much busier with their own cases .

Eerie ruined houses and buildings seemed to paint a rather depressing picture. Because you could feel that people used to live here. Half drunken bottles and stollers were out. Just like if everyone just disappeares while walking. But the rotting flesh In the strollers seemed to suggest that darker things have happened here. The everyday norm seemed to frame the gateway to hell. The green glow was the only thing that was truly out of the ordinary.

Perhaps it's just an opening to another Lazarus pit.

But It doesn't feel like a normal Lazarus pit . Damian would know that better than anyone. It somehow felt brighter. And an electric buzz permeated the air. It felt sickening. The destroyed sign makes somewhat of an archway for the entrance. It says Fen- something something? The letter had long fallen off from the elements

"God, bloody hell. This place just reeks of infinite realms," the laughing magician commented before pulling another cigarette from his pocket.

"Infinite realms?" Father grunted

"Don't get your panties twisted. There's a reason I didn't tell you about them, the more you know the harder they are to deal with"

There were more mindless chatter between his family. But Damian ignored that in favor of staring down the archway . It felt like a cold shiver on his back and a horrible burning sensation on the palm of his right hand. Weird.

Damian knew that what awaited him was death. He didn't know whose though.

"Do you feel that?" Damian asked before he could stop himself

Grayson turned to look at him, raising his eyebrow. "Babybat, what? What feeling?"

Damian knew he already walked into communication.

"The cold shiver, and the burning sensation on your right palm"

"Ha! Just sounds like your scared demon brat"

"Forget it"

And they promptly walked into hell.

Damian I've missed you so much! But it's dangerous here. You'll get caught by him

Inside Damian felt as if he was walking for years. All with that , horrible disgusting smell. Burnt flesh and plastic. So overwhelming that his eyes stung even through his mask. He had to wake with his eyes half closed. Stumbling his way through the uneven terrain.

Winding corridors made out of crushed rubble.

Damian , be careful there is sharp glass there

Eerie glow that never seems to get closer.

Damian? I really don't like the Lazarus pits

It was dark and an encompassing ceiling above him felt like spiderwebs, a trap. But beyond that you could see the sky.

Hey Damian? Let's go stargazing again!

Hey Damian please don't go further

Something kept bothering him but he didn't know what. But he kept on walking.

And eventually they found themselves in a big chamber. Lazarus pit waters filled the caver like a lake. Beautiful flowers that seemed misplaced grow up to the sky.

The sky.

Maybe that was the source of the discomfort?. They came in at dawn.

It shouldn't have been dark .

And the stars were wrong. How long did they walk for?

Long enough. Just go please

There was a huge rift. Beyond were Lazarus green lands with floating landscapes. Sometimes you could see something big float by . Damian wonders if they were living or just a part of the landscape.

Beautifully enchanting. Like freedom, feeling of wind on your ski-

And then Damian's eyes fell on the thing. How could he have not noticed that.

Please get away that is not me that is not me that is not me that is not me

Like some kind of a lost puppet it was hung in front of the rift. That was the source of the smell. A white suit that once had been sterile, burnt and fused with the flesh below. Dark burnt hair that hung and thankfully concealed the empty eyes.

For once Damian was thankful he couldn't see something. He just felt that if he saw the thing's eyes, he would never recover.

Because that face.

He knew that face

It was one of he had forgotten a long time ago.

Damian please that is not me plEase. I aM LOSiNg my SeLF

A brother that went missing during a mission.

"God what the fuck is that" Grayson's voice broke Damian's trance.

Damian frowned. It didn't feel appropriate to talk here.

Hide. Hide hide hide hide

A voice broke the silence soon after.

"I advise you to leave immediately" a familiar voice. From the oh so familiar corpse . It grated against his ears. And the corpse moved in tandem. Exaggerated and cartoonish but in a horrid way like a machine struggling to run in their later years. It felt like it was coming from everywhere at once.

Hey Damian let's not go here

Damian it's not a good idea to be here take you family and leave

Damian, let's go another route

I can barely maintain luciedicy please listen to me

"I advice you to leave immediately" just like clockwork. The exact same tone, the exact same horrid little dance.

"Well we can't. Well we can't before we know why In the everliving earth there is a direct portal to the infinite realms here." Constantine seemed to have nonchalance as he spoke but Damian saw his cold sweat. And eyes darting , trying to look anywhere but directly at it .

The corpse directly ignored Constantine. It turned to him . Each movement sharp and gutted.

"Damian we are finally together again :) "

[of-the-eventide]

From the Dusk Mother- Well... I suppose I should thank my actual Mothers in this regard hmm... Ahem. From my Mothers am I blessed to still wear this armor upon my skin.

auraugust 2024 - scales and tails (original)

[wazzappp]

I have missed two days of my drawtober thingy to finish this. I have no regrets.

[uncleardyn]

(alan wake-gravity falls crossover) man i love that character. you know, the deeply paranoid author who made a pact with a dark entity that ultimately ended with him stranded in another dimension separated from his loved ones for years at a time? takes place in the pacific northwest? has twin imagery associated with him and a reoccurring specific piece of symbology related to the unfortunate situation they're in? doesn't ever explain the reasoning behind his actions and instead just kinda goes "bro trust me"? yeah he also wears an outer layer of clothing with elbow pads on it, that one.