#planet humans ocs

[gothiccprince-art]

Randomly remembered I have planet human ocs. Jupiter is my favorite, but then there's Earth and Moon too :3!

[demaparbat-hp]

Izumi (steambaby) sketches.

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 1 : List.

Pairing : Noa x human reader

Warning : A bit of mourning. Otherwise, all clear for this one!

Summarize (please I'm so bad at writing these!): A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

Words : 3.2k

A/N : It has been a long time since I've written something and it feels pretty good to get back at it with this story! I hope you'll like it and do not hesitate to share your thoughts or like/reblog, it's always appreciated! As English isn't my native language, I'm sorry if you find mistakes or weird wording in there, let me know if you find some and I'll be glad to correct them!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper masterlist.

It wasn't going to be a difficult day. The list was ready, the tasks the same as the day before and the day after. You had to go to the river: catch a fish, fill the flasks with fresh water, bathe… You had to get on your horse and on the way back, stop at the 16th tree on the right, get off, walk 30 steps and fill the bag with blackberries. You had to avoid the brambles and avoid tripping over the prominent root. Get back on the horse and ride home.

Prepare the fish: remove the head and tail, the skin, gut it and remove the bones, light a fire to cook it. Yes, evolution had done many things, but it must have missed the episode where it was necessary to improve the human digestive system. So the fish still had to be cooked.

The garden had to be tended. Over the years, it had evolved too. It had been a long time in the making. A vegetable garden, tomatoes, green beans and, you couldn't quite remember how, artichokes had found their place too. An apple tree was easy to grow. It took time, but it was easy. And then there was this little gem you'd stumbled upon one day: a rosebush. It was an important one. You had to take care of it too.

You always had to do something.

Your hands knew what to do and how to do it. Your legs took you where you needed to go, and at that particular moment, they had led you to your horse. You had to remove his saddle and bridle, check his hooves and remove any stones that might have got stuck on them. Run your hand over his belly to loosen the skin compressed by the girth. And don't forget to give him a drink. When it came to eating, he found everything on his own, except perhaps an apple, which you gave him from time to time to thank him for his help. He knew how to ask, too. In fact, he huffed and gave you a nudge.

Okay, an apple.

He followed you to the apple tree and you climbed onto his back. You could reach the branches, but it was always difficult to keep your balance. Especially when your right hip wasn't working properly. And you sighed. It really wasn't convenient.

You had to go on with the list, what was next?

“ Hearing my voice at least once and speaking so I don't forget.”

This was important. You had to remember how to speak. The world had forgotten, but you must not. You had no right to forget.

“Say something new.”

And you looked around.

“It's cloudy today.”

Which meant rain wasn't far off. Your horse was now grazing beside you.

“You should take shelter.”

You smile, you'd said one more sentence today. Your horse's ears twitched as if to say “I do what I want” and you shrugged. After all, he was the one to decide. But you didn't want to get wet in the rain. You patted his neck and went off to find shelter in your wooden hut.

You've lived here for a long time. A very long time. So long that you no longer needed a torch to light up the big room when night fell or when the clouds darkened the place. You knew exactly where the shaky table was, the armchair with its deformed, hollowed-out seat and even the little plastic pot you kept forgetting to put back on the table to avoid getting your feet caught in it. And despite the years, you never tripped over it.

You were right to come home. You'd just had time to put the water flasks and the cooked fish on the table when a torrent of water hit the floor. The end of the list would have to wait. The timing was perfect, as your stomach signaled that it was time to fill up, and the smell of the wood-fired fish made your mouth water.

Settling back in your armchair, you ate the fish, watching the rain fall against the hut's only window. Eating with your hands was no longer as disturbing as it had been at first. There were a lot of memories that had slipped away over time, but you almost smiled when you thought back to the embarrassment you'd felt the first time you'd had to eat like that. If you'd known back then where you'd end up…

A sigh.

Drops tumbled against the window and some seemed to challenge themselves to get to the bottom first. They were following the path traced by others before them, but obviously not all roads were good ones to take. Some raindrops went straight down, others tried to cut off their opponents' path, and still others weaved in and out to create their own path. Then a raindrop caught your eye. It seemed the most likely to win the mad race. It glided and slalomed proudly until it landed delicately on your windowsill, blending in with its sisters who had landed there before it.

You turned your eyes to the last piece of fish, which you brought to your mouth.

You took one last look out the window, and that's when you caught sight of it.

A shadow.

A shadow had just moved past your window. The rain kept on pounding against it and you could see the trees in the distance stirring in the wind, and you were sure you saw the shadow moving, quickly to the right, but the shadow was gone. There were only raindrops, only the wind, and you could even hear the dull roar of an incipient thunderstorm.

A deep breath. You had to.

Then a sigh.

The rain and wind must have played a trick on you. If the storm picked up, you definitely wouldn't be able to finish your outdoor to-do list. But that didn't matter, there was still plenty to do inside.

First you had to tidy up. Keeping the interior clean and tidy was important, so you couldn't leave the water bottles on the table. You grabbed them and stepped over the little plastic pot that stood between the table and what you could call a kitchen. At least, that's what you would have called this part of the hut back in the day, because there was only a broken sink and a cupboard without a door. You passed the front door and it rattled against the latch in the wind. You had managed to install a branch across the door, allowing you to keep it closed in bad weather. However, as it didn't close very well, the wind always managed to rattle it between the branch and the latch. But you got used to the noise. So you walked past the shaky door to put the water bottles in the cupboard, and when you heard a suspicious rustling sound, you jumped, staring at the door.

You frowned at the unusual sound. You had been holding your breath, but the wind suddenly whistled through the doorframe, which was sorely lacking in hermetic seals. So you breathed out, taking a calmer breath. The wind. Mother Nature was definitely testing your nerves tonight.

Well, you still had to change your clothes. Night was coming on and you couldn't possibly sleep in your day clothes. You stepped over the little plastic pot again and made your way to the wooden chest beside the fireplace to find a t-shirt and a pair of jogging shorts with a hole in the left knee. Maybe one day you'd find a stray piece of fabric while walking through the forest, so you could mend it. But you hadn't yet got to the list asking you to explore the surrounding area.

There were 7 lists divided into 4 sections, themselves arranged in 12 categories. It was your way of keeping track of time. You no longer counted the days, let alone the years; you'd long since lost the very notion of time. But to grow crops, harvest the fruits of the forest and simply follow nature's millimetric events and be able to anticipate them, you needed a reference point. The lists, though mostly identical, were that reference point. Hanging on the wall with pieces of wood you'd carved yourself, they determined your days and the things you had to do.

You didn't really know when or how you'd started making these lists. But judging by the ink, half washed away by the years - some of the lists had even gone back to being blank - it must have been a long time ago.

You put the current day's list back in its place. Tomorrow, you'd have to complete it while carrying out the next one. But there was one more thing you needed to do indoors before settling into your armchair for the night. One last important thing.

From the chest, you took out a picture frame. The corners were worn, the wood had crumbled and you had to handle it carefully to avoid getting splinters in your hands. You set the frame down on the floor by the fireplace, knelt in front of it and reached into the jar on your right to pick a rose petal, which you placed carefully in the right-hand corner of the frame.

You struggled to swallow.

That's where it always got complicated.

Once again, you reached into the jar and pulled out 7 petals. You always needed 7 petals. You placed 6 of them in a circle on the dry twigs in the fireplace and began humming a song whose words you'd long since forgotten. But you remembered the feeling. You felt a lump in your throat, and you often wondered how you managed to keep the song going.

You hummed, and on the last petal, with the help of a needle, you delicately traced his initials. You had to be careful not to press too hard, you shouldn't pierce the petal, just brush against it enough to see, if you concentrated hard enough, the outline of the letter you were drawing. You also had to blink a few times to see clearly what you were doing. It was important to get it right. Once you'd written the letter on the petal, you laid it at the center of the circle.

It was always at this moment that your hands shook. You needed a moment. Just a bit of time.

You had to wipe your hands over your eyes, the most important thing was to handle the two flints on the floor with care. Your hands had to be steady, not shaking. You interrupted the song to get your breathing under control.

Inhale.

Breathe out.

Grab the flints.

Inhale.

Exhale.

A sharp stroke.

The clatter of the stone threw sparks onto the pile of twigs and a flame sprang up. You started humming again as the fire slowly consumed the wood until it reached the petals of the circle.

A tear.

The fire continued to progress and you stared desperately at the petal in the center, quickly ridding yourself of the tears that were blurring your vision. The flame touched the edge of the petal and you watched the letter “C” burn away and disappear into the ashes.

The flame faded as the twigs gradually disappeared and, once gone, you slipped the petal on the frame back into its jar.

Now you had to put the frame away. Your fingers brushed the edge of the picture inside of it. Despite the years, you had managed, by some miracle, to keep the photograph almost undamaged. At least, sufficiently intact that you could still distinguish the shape of an ape in the center of the picture, despite the cracks.

He was a force of nature. You had taken this photo on a December day, you still knew because you could still discern the white flakes clinging to his dark fur. Back then, you loved taking pictures.

What did they call you again?

The memory keeper.

Even after all this time, it still made you smile. You gently squeezed the frame between your fingers, keeping it balanced on the knees you'd just tucked in towards you. This way, he was a little closer to you.

You made an extra effort to remember the day. He was standing high enough to see everyone around him. He must have been talking about something important; he always had that powerful, soul-piercing stare when he was saying something important. But he always looked…

“Grumpy.”

You concluded your thought in a whisper that knotted your throat. Grumpy. You almost expected to hear him growl, his ego bruised, every time you reminded him that he was sometimes a little too grumpy. “Grumpy because a lot on my shoulders,” he'd snap back at you. “No, grumpy because you're old” you'd always reply, your eyes always playful. And you were the only one who could say such a thing, with the only result being an amused snore coming from him.

And you felt yourself take a deep breath. Of all the pictures you'd taken, this was the last one you had left. You had to put the frame back in the chest, so your fingers tightened even more around the wood. Your head tilted slightly forward, closing your eyes as the wood touched your forehead.

Tonight was difficult.

You took another deep breath, and before the knot in your throat hurt too much, you straightened up and went to put the frame in the chest.

“Caesar, tonight is really difficult,” you whispered, watching the shadow of the lid close over the frame.

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

It had been a restless night. When your eyes opened the next morning, they felt heavy and swollen, and you found yourself rubbing your eyes to try and make the heaviness go away.

Today, there was much to do. After changing from your night clothes to your day ones, you removed the branch blocking the door and let the sun shine in, warming your skin. The fresh early-morning air caressed your skin and you took a few seconds to smell the distinctive light scent that follows a thunderstorm.

No sooner had you taken a few steps forward than your feet bumped into something hard, causing you to lose your balance. In a fraction of a second, you found yourself on your butt on the ground, a stabbing pain in your right hip that had failed to move to stop you from falling.

“Ouch!” was the only thing that slipped out of your mouth.

You straightened up slightly, remaining seated in the grass, to see what had caused your fall and a pile of apples laid exactly under the wobbly small porch that covered your front door.

God, what a dummy not to have put that away last night. You thought to yourself, looking down at your hands full of dirt. You'd have to go to the river to clean it up, and now you'd just have to take your night clothes with you because you'd also have to wash the ones you were wearing-the mud from the storm must have dirtied your current clothes.

A pile of apples. You thought as you rubbed your hands together.

A pile of apples. You glanced at your right hip. Pfft, if you'd made Caesar break it to put it back in its place, you'd never have fallen today. In fact, you'd have avoided more than one fall.

All because of a misplaced pile of apples.

A pile of misplaced apples.

And like a light bulb switching on, your gaze suddenly fell on those apples that actually had nothing to do there. You hadn't gathered them the day before.

Then you heard it. A muffled purr came gently from behind you. Surely you should have turned around, stood up and dealt with it, but you'd found yourself rooted to the spot, eyes glued to those apples, waiting as an orangutan appeared in your field of vision.

And you refused to look at him, your hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking. You weren't afraid. No. But for some obscure reason, your brain had simply decided to freeze.

The orangutan once again let out a rumble, softer this time, and held out his hand to you.

“I'll help.”

His voice made you blink several times. You did your best to snap out of your stupor, but this time your eyes agreed to look at him, and the orangutan seemed delighted.

Just one more moment. It took another second, just one, to see your hand slip into his and before you knew it, you were back on your feet.

“Raka, we must go.”

The second voice surprised you a little. It sounded familiar and your eyes fell on a chimpanzee, a little further away, who had just finished saddling a horse. You frowned, your horse? You were trying to determine whether it was really yours, but the distance didn't allow you to be sure. There was only one way to find out.

So you whistled.

The horse shook its head and the chimpanzee didn't have time to grab the reins before your horse galloped off to meet you. They were going to take your horse… in exchange for a stack of apples?

You grabbed the reins and stroked the horse's neck as he snorted. He chewed the bit and blew heavily through his nostrils.

For a fraction of a second, you forgot about the two large apes who, from the sounds they were making, weren't particularly happy to have lost a chance of obtaining a second means of locomotion: in your peripheral vision, you could see another horse quietly grazing.

Your hands still knew what to do, and it didn't take you long to remove the bridle and bit from your horse's mouth.

“He doesn't like it.” you said simply.

And only silence answered you, so you showed the bridle to the two apes.

“The bit, he doesn't like it, he's not used to it.”

Your answer didn't seem to convince them. They stared at you, dumbstruck, and if you paid close enough attention, you could almost see their mouths hanging wide open. And that left you bewildered. What didn't they understand? You'd heard them talking, so that certainly wasn't the problem.

“You can't take my horse.” You went on, starting to remove the saddle.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that they were staring at you as if you'd just landed from the sky.

“If you want a horse, there's a wild herd to the south, past the river.” And you pointed in the right direction.

They remained silent as tombs, but the chimpanzee followed the direction you pointed with his eyes.

“Just be careful, the group's stallion isn't very friendly.” You thought it important to tell him.

Your gaze fell back on them and the orangutan, Raka, if you'd heard correctly, hadn't moved a muscle. The chimpanzee, on the other hand, was staring at you thoughtfully, as if he was trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. He then moved towards you inquisitively, perhaps, confused?

“Echo, speak?”

It was certainly the most surprising sentence you'd ever heard in your life.

[navrok]

I was inspired so I've also drew a Mercury. As a child I had a book about space and I've read it like 100 times. So...

Things you need to know about Mercury:

🌌 Closest to Sun

🌌 No moons

🌌 Pretty fast guy

🌌 Has a lot of craters

[vanadiumvalor]

A strip game with Sol that I ran on Twitter!

[inkmonster21]

Mega Masterlist 👍

Hugh Jackman

Series:

Short n’ Sweet

Logan Howlett / Wolverine

One shot:

Love me Tonight —> Love me Forever

Should Be Me

The Mandalorian ~ Din Djarin

Series:

A Bounty & A Solo

Ryan - Yellowstone

Series:

A Cowboy’s Love

Billy Butcher - The Boys

One shots:

Interruptions

Pop Star Princess

Who’s the Kid —> Voughtland

Cooper Howard - Fallout

Series:

Sing for Me

Julian - Trailer Park Boys

One Shots:

Nothing’s Changed

Bane - Batman

Series:

Darkness

Part 2

Fezco - Euphoria

Series:

Best Buds

Judd Birch - Big Mouth

Series:

Showtime

Noa-Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes

Series:

Hearts Across the Divide - Complete

One Shots:

Just Fun and Games

A Future For Us

You Are Enough

I Can Do Anything Better Than Him

A Different Type of Love

Fighting for Life

The Lost is Found

Caesar - Planet of the Apes

Motherly Instincts

Jealous Ape

[dailypearldoodles]

Day 521

This week's outside Pearl is from @justl-12 !! Her SL!Pearl design was actually what kinda inspired me to design Pearl a little differently because like, I love her Pearl. Scrappy lil gal. Love the flower details and whole vibe, especially her hair oooh its cute

[raunak-shrestha]

Alien Whales once more

It’s been what? Three years since the last time I drew these whales?

[soniczelda16]

Transformers is still on the brain, so I'd like to introduce my fan continuity, Primus Chronicles!

The drawing above features my design of Hot Rod, one of the main characters, and his human partner and best friend, Carla Witwicky. They became inseperable after Hot Rod and his younger brother, Bumblebee, transformed from their new Earth vehicles modes in the middle of the garage belonging to Sparkplug, Carla's dad. Carla and her younger siblings, Reggie and Maggie, were there to see it happen, leading to what would become a unique family unit.

Optimus Prime, Hot Rod and Bumblebee's father and leader of the Autobots, welcomed the Witwicky's as friends, essentially becoming a second father to the Witwicky kids.

As for the war against the Decepticons, Optimus knows that the Autobots must doing everything they can to protect the Earth and its inhabitants. As Prime, it is his duty to protect, even if it comes at a cost. Sometimes being his own life.

[akashakushrenada]

He named his mate his "Gift", it was only befitting they named their daughter "Miracle" as the first child to be born of ape and human. Their little Mira.

Art by NewArts

[skitskatdacat63]

Do not question the logistics of the planetary system :) Also yes, Pluto is a planet TO ME. And I came up w these when I was a lot younger, so don't question them :)

Also idk if this factors into one's choice here, but each planet is ruled by a god(dess.) Maybe I should make a poll about their ruling styles one day lol

I'd say "please reblog" but this is very niche so! But if so, please explain your choice, I'm curious! Or comment

+ examples of some under the cut:

Lol a lot of this is older, don't judge :) And I also don't have ocs from every planet unfortunately </3 hopefully one day!

Mercury:

Venus:

Saturn:

Uranus:

Neptune:

(lol can you tell I have a favorite planet, I think prob at least 50% of my ocs are from here)

Pluto:

Unwanted:

(these are actually my oldest ocs that I still use, and I had to rework them to fit into my au thus: unwanted. Very important lore tbh.)

[majorpepperidge]

Tried my best at style mimicry for this'un, but!! I like how it turned out :D

Lily Thatch was a human miner thrown into a canyon for insubordination against the Chasteners when she criticized choices made by those in charge of the company town she lived in. Injured in the fall, the activated Cramm in the area made its way into her genetic makeup, mutating her into something capable of surviving in the dark of the canyon. When she finally managed to crawl back to the light of the surface, Lily was ostracized and left without a home or purpose, only a burning desire for revenge against those what done her wrong. While she's a late addition to the Wild Bastards, she's no less capable or dangerous than the others.

[val-the-protoss-simp]

Part 1/3 the Tal'darim

Part 2/3 the Khalai <- you're here Part 3/3 the Nerazim

Part two of this ask, the Khalai

Erzadar. Formerly Erzolun (Because I have another Khalai OC named Talizun and I thought the names were way too similar) First concept was from 2022 (can be seen on the far bottom right of the art compilation) She was originally a tiny researcher from the Shelak tribe (??? I think??) Erza and her team of Khalai protoss were essentially Auir’s equivalent to Shakuras’s delegate team of Nerazim/terran diplomats/researchers/whatever.

She (and all the OCs from this story) were in kind of a limbo as they laid forgotten high on a metaphorical shelf of my mind, collecting dust, while I played with other OCs and stories. Until I was *this* video like half a year ago (no, it is not a Rickroll) and was like oh my god. oh. not to be a lesbian but oh my god. oh my fucking god Jesus Christ- we all know the meme.

Anyway, since then she became a tall, beefy adept.

She’s still mostly in development and therefore there’s not much to say about her. She’s a former zealot (became an adept during the events of LotV) With a friendly personality in a way only people in their early 20s have. She was assigned as a bodyguard/guide to the Dominion delegates Auir hosts and quickly becomes friends with most of them, namely Victor. And yes, I absolutely do plan to drag these two through months and years of delicious angst and yearning and denial and more angst before I allow them to become a thing. Their fault they’re my OCs.

Talizun is also a character who I’ve had for a looooooong time too (2018????? Before 2020) but I never really fleshed him out despite his key importance to the plot of Zhakul’s story. He didn’t even have a name until late 2021 ahaha oops. Most of his story was also conceived that year, meaning it’s pretty outdated and also prone to change in places, but I think it’s skeleton will remain.

Tali is a chill templar from a fringe Khalai colony so far away from the empire that it was entirely excluded from the great war that took place during the events of SC2. Him and many of his templar brethren were in stasis for centuries, only awakened AFTER the war was concluded, which is also the reason why he still bears his cords and is tethered to the Khala. (One of the big changes in this AU, aside from Shakuras not exploding and the Daelaam not being a thing anymore, is that the Khala prevails. This could be a separate yap session for later, I’m just making this clear now in case someone is confused over me mentioning it)

Anyway. He’s very chill and level-headed for a zealot, which actually came in handy because Zhakul needed to do some serious deconstructing of the bullshit Dal filled his head with and Tali was up for the job. The two end up bonding over a similar experience (being removed from protoss society for so long they feel like complete outsiders) become friends and eeeeeeeeeeventually form a Zhakul-centred polycule that also includes Jake and various other terrans and protoss.

Tali eventually gets himself killed in a border skirmish with the Tal’darim (originally it was Y’rash that yeeted him, now I’m not sure that’s canon anymore) he’s stuffed into the shell of a dragoon and does his best to continue with his life as well as he can, which is made much more complicated because he ends up having an oopsie baby (who we will also talk about later) and from then on struggles with the crushing feeling of knowing he can never be an adequate parent to them because his broken body must forever remain locked in a dragoon exoskeleton. 

The Talendir Orchard Head FamilyTM

The main characters in Project Sammuro. There’s very little to say about them for now because the story they were created for is at its infancy and therefore their characters are also very underdeveloped. They’re a down-to-earth family of protoss living in rural parts of Auir, growing and harvesting sammuro fruit for it’s rich blue dye, then distributing it across the Khalai empire as needed.

The story focuses on this entire process and also works as a lightbulb moment for Victor, who realises that the strongly capitalistic society of the Dominion is very very  flawed in comparison to the more traditional, socialistic economy the protoss have where culture, tradition and the well-being of it’s people are far more important to them than profit and power.

[vanadiumvalor]

[☀️SOLAR HOUSE | Chapter Two | Pg. 18] Crossfaded Encounters

This furry webcomic / comic about the solar system updates every Tuesday!

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[madsmadart]

(Repost from Jan 2024)

MY MOTIVATION IS RETURNING! Here's a gijinka sketch portrait of one of my fav costumes from Littlebigplanet named Stella! She's a young android that lives in Avalonia

[lovegiroke]

a couple clover posts (+a bit of winplan), art collab and crossover

Art collab, add you clover oc as one of these characters, I added Lucy cause I don’t think that spot would fit anyone else better then her

Collab between my biggest fandoms, Venus is George cause they’re both hopeless romantics (Nep’s the love interest who left her(or died of something, that’s also a possibility)) and Sammy’s Brenda because she has still dancing energy.