#thinking of names for au uhhh

[reinafish]

I love blazamy, I love sticksamy, i love blaze x sticks (no ship name? *sobs*)…

IM A GENIUS GUYS IM SO SMART I-

[weaselishmcdiesel]

this was suPPOSED to stay under wraps for a bit longer, but from the desperation created by the poll im. going to . post a bit from a new shared au between @tallaroo and myself that we were brainstorming. featuring, of course, many many gay cowboy minecrafters. please take this. look forward to some more since roo's also craftin up some goodies ^^<3

AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD VOTE MUMBO

[weaselmcdiesel]

um um um hahaha. i know i said id do the withc au but ahhhh... eto.. bleh?

HARVEST MOON TIME GO

[jacksprostate]

Bob in female fight club au. Thoughts

Probably named Marge

Rather than doing a direct inversion (ie making the character the exact opposite, much tits -> no tits, etc) I think sort of an analogue would work better riffing off the motherly role Bob has, in combination with the group being for uterine cancer/ovarian cancer

The women come together, and they cry, cry, cry, over lost husbands, who left them because they got cancer, because overwhelmingly, men leave if their wife gets cancer, over lost relationships with children, who stayed but resent them, over lost Motherhood, that thing you were told was your worth but now you are told you're shit. Remaining Women Together. Despite. Despite despite despite.

What is it, about purposes. Want to see misery, see women fed their own physical oppression as lost salvation.

Marge, whatever her name is, her husband divorced her, left her with the kids and medical bills stacked as high as she is tall. She is thankful she still has her kids, it makes her feel like she's still worth something. She's had to try and get back into the workforce. No one wants to hire dear former stay at home mother Marge. She shows you her kids in her wallet in her purse and there are no pictures of her. There's a picture of her old husband, which she keeps to show her kids if they ask. They're old enough to go to school now, which is good, because it gives her more time to work. Life is hard, but she's doing her best.

Marge, who is on hormone therapy so she doesn't get those "side effects" she's heard about from other total hysterectomy patients, the future of early dementia and degeneration and horror. Who does pelvic floor exercises in hopes it will minimise the fallout of the surgery. Who carefully rips every hair out of her upper lip and chin because even if it would be normal for a woman, a woman whose gone through menopause, a woman at all — she knows, it's probably the estrogen tipping back over into testosterone, and she can't handle any more losses. She compensates. They all do.

The support group is her Me Time. It is the single hour plus half hour commute she can afford once a week for herself. So she gets here, and she cries, cries, cries, and the others cry with her, all over how their lives have fallen apart since they got ovarian cancer, got breast cancer, and their lives derailed because they can't be proper women anymore.

They cry in their waterproof makeup. Another product to promise womanhood. Identify yourself via consumption. Identify yourself by covering yourself up.

And when she finds fight club. When she finds something that says, jesus fuck. You are more than your children. You are more than your ability to have kids. You aren't a failed woman, that's a sack of shit you've been sold wholesale. When she finds something that promises her she will grow, achieve personhood, not because she was the ultimate martyr mother, not because she played the game of human or woman, but because it promises a freedom from all that, identification and repulsion of such sickening chains. When she stops worrying about her slightly deepened voice, and works to keep her dose even keel for her health, to avoid the toxic highs of accidentally juicing, rather than the lesser effects of a black lip hair or two. When she has a photo, not of herself in her wallet, but of the things she makes with other women from fight club, of the one view of the sunset from that one parking lot that she always thought was wonderful, when she has things in her wallet for her and her enjoyment. When she has corded muscle and a built up spine, when she sits her kids down and explains why they only see dad one weekend every other month, all the fun holidays, because dad decided staying with her through cancer was too hard even when she stayed with him through four lost jobs pissed away in alcohol and lottery tickets.

And Marge, who gets shot by the police on a regulation chill-and-drill assignment for Project Mayhem. Whose obituary in the newspaper talks about the children she left behind, how she battled cancer and kept caring for them, how she was such a strong mother, whose kids would now be shipped off to their grieving father who is so, so brave and stunning for standing up and taking care of the kids he made and dropped as soon as his live-in servant had a few issues. Her name is Marge Paulson, and she was forty-eight years old. She was a person. She will be remembered in the annals of Project Mayhem, lest what little there was of her be stolen from the world. She was killed by Project Mayhem, but they're the only ones who will remember Marge Paulson.

[napstabl00k]

it's hard being a pacifist on a cool adventure with two people inclined towards murder

[thehotgrandparent]

I’m so tempted to give the Doorman a name, and I’m tempted to call them “Berry” because they just remembered Nacha bringing in a bunch of berries earlier that day and they just blurted it out

Especially since they can’t really eat berries as well

Goggling because it’ll be like:

*Random neighbor here*: Oh yes, what’s your name? I forgot to ask.

Doorman: It’s, uh, uh

Doorman, remembering that they noticed Nacha bringing home some groceries and that it included berries: My name is Berry

[floydsteeth]

Oooohhh a ciel doodle page :0

[espighty]

They’re in love I think. Happy pride month

Stills for your enjoyment:

[spotaus]

*It seems you managed to stumble across a unique trio...

Decided to do a silly lil doodle of my favorite Dopple-trio! :D on the surface I feel like this'd be a daily occurrence. Kale is the most normal of the 3 of them, but I wanted to draw her and Paps having a cute lil conversation. (More ideas below the cut!!!)

Pretender regularly interacts with humans (his disguise slowly recovers, and he continues to mostly abstain from his old habits) and usually appears as "human" as long as he's out. Sometimes in public I feel like ppl would be willing to talk to him, and he's always quick to make it clear that to get to his family people would have to get past him. (Also I think in their neighborhood/town everyone gets increasingly confused because he regularly goes, "Yeah, that's my Kid" some days abd other days he's like, "That's my little sibling" and it's just that he's her guardian and the terms are kinda interchangeable because it's easier to use them than explain the whole situation lol)

Pretender also has no sense of fashion. He's always so close to a neat outfit then takes the wrong turn before he exits his closet lol.

Paps stays in skeleton form (at least for the first few years) even tho it's dangerous, because his human disguise is awful and makes K uncomfortable. Instead he trains genuinely with Undyne and Tender to properly figure out a human shape over about 4 years. Eventually he does have a human disguise, but he's contented in his monster form too.

K I can't say a lot for (beloved @oodlesndoodles is who designed/owns her!) But I'm pretty certain that she'd probably still wear her one monster-style outfit sometimes if only to show her solidarity with her family, or just to mess with people on the streets 🙏

Also:

I love the idea that someone talking to them would take in this info and be like ???????

Last Notes: Human!Pretender is one of my favorite blorbos ever to doodle! His hair texture is probably the most satisfying thing ever! Paps keeps miraculously looking good for this AU??? I've never been able to draw Papyrus before??? Idk what changed, but I love him! And KALE! K my beloved I have struggled so hard to doodle her well and usually fail but I think I did it!!! I love her sm...

[hauntedziosportrait]

WHAT THE HELL GABE'S AJ AU / Epilogue 💫

🖋️ NOTES:

So erm. Hey jamblr. Here's that au I promised you. It is lacking a name. This is currently a huge HUGE HUGE wip but what I will say is i have had this headworld and story in my brain for a pretty scary amount of time. Now I am making the mature decision and taking a step from imagining animatics in my head to making an actual story!! As of right now, I have very intense artblock, so I'm bringing it upon myself to write for this AU instead!!

This was inspired by probably a lot of stuff, notably FOTS by Greeky and a whole bunch of AJ headcanons I have mashed together into a slightly salty stew.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

An insatiable amount of cringe

The very original idea of an apocalypse AU

Autism

Greely says a bad word and instantly gets sent to the seventh circle of hell

Enjoy jamblr. You stinky stinky individuals

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

A delicate feather was carried by the wind from its birthplace and took time to settle as the wrath of the winds sailed it about the sky endlessly. This delicate feather- she, a delicate feather, had lesser expertise with a realm such as this. Despite never having seen it, she had heard innumerable myths and legends about it and had researched Jamaa throughout the ages. As she landed amidst the chaos and apocalypse, she spread the scrolls of her map with two eager wings. She then, excited as can be, soared up and above the lands to look down on it, comparing it to the papyrus in her grasp. Apart from some tiny geographic inaccuracies, she was mostly right about what she thought Jamaa would resemble. Her sole hyperfocus for as long as she had been living was right here in front of her. Her map and other tools of the trade were no longer necessary.

She went by the name Io'lani, and if she had friends, they would undoubtedly refer to her as Lani, but since she didn't, that was that. Her name meant "royal hawk", although she was neither royal nor a hawk. She had been around a very long time but mostly in captivity; her living quarters resided in some sort of third-dimensional space as she watched the centuries go by. Originally, she was created to be a faux offspring for the two guardian spirits to embrace and love as their own, the way parents would cherish a newborn babe, but their heavenly duties consistently got in the way of that. She wasn't necessarily forgotten, neglected, or abused- but her existence was merely an afterthought for the Sky Mother Mira, and barely a thought at all for the (mostly) unaware Zios.

Promptly, as a being of balance, and the product of the two holy deities that brought life to Jamaa, Io'lani's emergence in a time of destruction and despair was foretold in literature and books written by the most fanatical of scholars and theorists.

Io'lani emerged, of course. I just described her descent to you. The problem was that she wasn't quite sure what she was meant to do.

Her eyes darted as she stared at the gloomy surroundings. Buildings once bursting with life had been knocked down and torn apart for materials by scavenging jammers who were desperate to survive. The greenery and plants were now wilted and desaturated. The rivers, now a goopy inkwell. Once there were animals united by friendship, now wicked phantoms united by their desire to destroy and multiply. The hiss of black smoke filled Io'lani's lungs and she coughed, covering her beak with the edges of her mask.

This is not how Jamaa was supposed to be. Where were the cheers and laughter of water slides, movie theatres, and young mammals venturing out into the wild? Where was the happy haven that she had been assured existed? As she floated and landed at different locations, pointing to her whereabouts on the map, she analyzed her positioning with precise craftsmanship.

Crystal Sands' warm, golden shoreline had vanished and been replaced with a gritty, black, and grey substance that was scorching to the touch. Jamaa Township's characteristic swirling pavement was no longer present; instead, a sizable crevice divided the town's center in half. Phantoms emerged from these recesses, spreading their purple muck and cackling maliciously as they advanced to wilt the fauna.

Jamaa was not intended to be like this. Io'lani quietly descended and fell to her knees in front of a violet flag that had been suspended from the arcade's former roof. It had been shredded at the ends, painted with a sinister expression, and pasted all over the lifeless hamlet. The photograph was of the Phantom Queen, or PQ as she liked to be addressed by her subjects, and a message was scrawled in goopy black ink over her portrait.

And this was everywhere, mind you. The phantom propaganda was affixed to masonry and stone throughout the featureless plains. The Queen's vile grin was still present, along with the same stern call to repent. Io'lani scurried desperately and frantically, zipping to each of the wrecked locals on her map and urgently hoping to find at least someplace not entirely defunct. The statue of Zios was gone completely, presumably taken as a trophy by the Queen herself.

She slid against a jagged rock in Balloosh, the place least subject to destruction and where she had initially started her quest. To her knowledge, there was a power within the marsh- a strong power. She could feel the sheer electric of protection in her bones, the blazing blue light shimmering in her peripherals.

She wept silently, her tears ink-black and resembling the slime of the phantoms. Her tears flowed into her wings, and as she trembled and wept, her voice had a pitiful catching. Any sign of goodwill was absent. What's more, a sheer lack of both guardian spirits, ironically not doing a very good job at guarding or keeping up spirits. There was no point in visiting the place she had wanted to for epochs when it was torn and forgotten. No alphas to save the day, except the elder wolf sitting across from her, giving her a sympathetic glare.

Wait.

As she made touch with the blue-gray canine, she gasped and the emerald glint in her eyes resurfaced. Her thoughts searched for why he was so familiar to her until she caught on. This was Greely, first name unknown, the alpha philosopher with an interest in all things macabre. Except it wasn't quite Greely, for this wolf was bruised and had an ear torn, his golden bejeweled accessories cracked and corroded in ash. He looked older than what Io'lani had seen of him in stories, and less well-kept. He had a husky growl in his voice, reaching out an injured paw towards the skittish heron.

"I was hoping I'd... end up stumbling into you." He groaned.

"Do you know me?" Io'lani replied, her voice just above a whisper.

Greely bared his teeth, before turning his head and looking to the side. "I have... heard such things about you. You're the one who's meant to make this hell disappear. Are you deliberately wasting time here?"

Io'lani frowned as Greely raised his voice to her, the confusion and anxiety settling in her stomach. Greely's gaze pierced right through her and was even more intimidating than she had anticipated. Ultimately, she spoke up, clearing her throat and gripping her trusty map defensively in one wing.

"I don't know what exactly I'm meant to do."

Greely paused.

"Shit."

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

👍

[yuureiboo]

So uh Splatoon but Sun and Moon?

I not very good at creating or describing but is similar to splatoon game story itself but just sun and moon in it? Idk i just have ideas here and there that riot in my brain for so long about these two in this au especially their backstory and relationships. I haven't think of a name for this au yet. I may also make minor changes in their design in the future.

I also want to create Y/N as the player but i am stuck with what Y/N design gonna be? Human? Inkling or Octoling? Or different species like jellyling, sharkling, etc.

This is mostly just for fun because i absolutely no clue what i am doing. I just know sun and moon have been plagued in my brain and heart for years and i finally doing smt about it i guess. Let me know what you guys think anyway if you want!

[terrence-unsuaved]

Guys I was rewatching Gravity Falls and had a silly au idea-

[cattyanon]

Merry Christmas (or whatever you celebrate) to everyone! Anyways, here's the drawing I made for @the-sky-queen!

[ey-there-little-guy]

does the borrower au have a name/is there anything else that happens there ?

I've been too busy this week to name it yet, same with thinking of things to happen in it in detail.

Like, there very easily can be plot with the current troubles being: - tubbo doesn't want to stay in a house where the human has seen them, but they need to last long enough here for him to re-gather supplies first. not to mention find out where they'll even go. - michael has grown up with only tubbo and bugs for company, he wants to trust ranboo and learn more things and tell more stories. - ranboo wants the borrowers to be more comfortable around him, and needs to find ways to prove he means no harm without getting stabbed by tubbo. - the house has a rat problem.

plus i picked Ranboo's neighbors on the spot but they're pretty good for things happening too. a neighbor coming over, or tommy (the guy with the bike), or the borrowers secretly hitching a ride from someone to get somewhere, or more borrowers. I need to think out the relationships a bit more before coming up with definite events.

I also like thinking about Tubbo and Michael's lives pre-move, out in the bit of woods behind Ranboo's house because outdoor borrower stuff, how they go about survival and differ from indoor borrowers, interests me. Michael can't fight rats but he can fight cockroaches and spiders and small frogs. Tubbo has killed a toad, held bees, escaped wild animals and made most the things they own. stuff like that.

[feralsteddie]

It’s the not knowing, that gets him.

The not knowing what could’ve happened if Eddie Munson had made it out of that fight.

They’d barely known each other, spent a few days fighting monsters after a few months of barely acknowledging each other over the head of their mutual friend after a few years of avoiding each other in the high school hallways.

But those few days were something. It took him a while to realise that, or, to come to terms with the fact that it probably wasn’t all in his head, but they were.

He spends more time than is probably healthy thinking about what could’ve happened, even if he forces the thoughts to stay inside his head, where they can’t hurt Dustin any more than his death already did.

Would they have been friends? Linked together similarly to him and Robin? He could see it. Nights where the three of them curled up on his bed until the sun rose and they could breathe again. Evenings spent watching movies and getting high and talking until their voices gave out.

Would they have been more? There was tension, he knows tension. Could write a whole book on signals and looks and the shifts in tone. Even if he was just trying to deal with the situation he’d ended up in, and he’d been the only age-appropriate guy around, that still left a foot in the door. They could’ve cracked it open some more, taken a step inside. Could’ve learned each other. Could’ve slotted next to one another like puzzle pieces, matching their scars up when they pressed together.

They could’ve just fallen back to routine. Eddie spending time with the kids when he wasn’t. Trading looks over Dustin’s head only a bit heavier after sharing the secrets of what lurked below.

Or Eddie could’ve been swept away by the government. Or hidden away with Hopper. Or arrested in the hospital. Or taken out by the mob. Or or or or.

Not every scenario was nice, but they ran through his head anyway.

Because, the fact was he would never know. Would never get the choice to learn, to see. To either grow with him or grow separately or grow apart.

There was a whole future, full of whatever life he was supposed to have, just gone. Stomped out and leaving blood stains on the ground of the Upside Down. Leaving Dustin broken open and a name no one would let them clear and a skittish look to anyone who dared to be different, in case they were blamed for the next Hawkins tragedy.

Any of those possibilities or a million other ones he couldn’t think of, left empty and dissatisfied. Because he just couldn’t know.

[deduction-substitute]

Continuing assistant detective Lucky 🥰

The Detective ALSO ending up at the manor.

So now theres technically. Three Orpheus.

He FREAKS OUT when he arrives at the manor and realizes LUCKY IS THERE

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT LISTENING TO THE LETTER"

"I wanted to investigate and be helpful ☹️☹️☹️"

"YOUVE BEEN MISSING FOR ALMOST HALF A YEAR"

The SHENANIGANS that ensue when people find out that Detective is older Orpheus too!!

"Orpheus you're more tolerable when you're older when are you getting old 😒😒😒"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't even bother. His 'pleasant' personality will only ever extend to the Little Girl. And...Lucky Guy, I suppose."

"Once he's old and wrinkly!"

"Once he's old and wrinkly."

"Was I that...unlikeable when I was younger?"

"...yeah ☹️"

"I'm right here."