A server-profile picture I got to draw for one Discord server that I'm in! I really like how this came out, so yeah, have my silly goofy modern-AU guys here too <333 Happy May 1st! :3
This may be a bit niche but Young Justice Dinah Lance would be the perfect therapist (also mother figure/mentor) to the dimi sisters.
Dinah: You are enough. Regardless of ability or talent or family expectations. But, only you can determine your own self-worth. You are a bright, charming, and intuitive young woman Daniela. We can work to help you recognize that :)
Dani: … Will you adopt me?
Dinah: What?
Dani: What?🧍♀️
Also if I had a nickel for every blonde, bird related milf character I adore, I’d have two nickels:
Only, these two would fucking hate eachother if they met💀
So I've been talking to @vihattu-thethoroughbredofsin about my Lotus AU and she had this to say:
"It can be said that to some extent Tara would become an analogue of a modern forest witch, lives in the forest, lives with some strange entity and a "pet", which caused a new wave of local legends about cryptids."
HOLY SHIT A NEW IDEA HAS INFECTED MY BRAIN. So I don't have an actual name yet because this is all new, but the concept is MAGICAL AU. This is what I've come up with so far:
-Still takes place on Earth but magic is a widely known thing.
-Transformers are still the same so there's that magic vs tech thing going on
-Meridian is a sorcerer that is a major contributing force in the rising field of Magitek and still has the same motivation for hating TFs. He's been in possession of the Emberstone for years which no one knows about.
-He becomes known as Mandroid because of his obsession with technology and is pretty much shunned by the rest of magical society.
-The Arachnamechs are still a thing but more steampunk in nature
-My OC Tara would be more a witch with a heavy nature theme
-The Terrans are basically homunculi created by Meridian using the Emberstone as a way to combat TFs. They all run away and eventually come into contact with the Maltos, an old family of wizards while Dot's side are more known for being warriors.
-GHOST is still a thing, but it's an organization of both magic and warriors. Croft is a high ranking witch that specializes in ice magic
-Final Form Mandroid is still a thing but happens as a result of Meridian abusing the Emberstone too much
Also tagging @sveene since she also liked vihattu's idea.
My Aus always spiral out of control jfc. Now I’m 15 pgs deep into a Fair Game/RoseBird(?)Golden Rosebird(?) LK2 AU!? And I just finished the Upendi section! Almost...got this...out of my system jsdfjgk.
All because I did one (1) Pride Lands pic for my KH AU sjfkldjkls.
Totally off the wall prompt and I'm not even sure of exact scenario, but for some reason I found it really funny to imagine an AU where Cody is Rex's pet dog, but people mix up their names because "Rex" is a stereotypical dog name.
"You're sure it's not the other way around?"
Rex leans over the counter and gives the vet, who thinks he's so incredibly funny, his best threatening smile. "Did I fucking stutter?"
"Uh," the vet says, and beats a hasty retreat, leaving Rex to scoff under his breath and turn back to the waiting room, leaning his elbow on a stack of fliers about canine dental care. He's made someone else laugh, at least, or perhaps they're even on his side, because there's a posh man in tweed eyeing him with distinct amusement in his eyes over the edge of his newspaper, a large cat carrier sitting quietly by his side.
"Hey, I didn't name myself," Rex shrugs, just to the air.
"No, you didn't," the man agrees, laying aside the Coruscant Daily to reveal a friendly, bearded face. "Though whoever did, did it well. I think you'd do perfectly well at being kingly."
"Thanks," Rex says. I think, he says to himself a moment later, and grins.
He and Obi-Wan - because it turns out that's his name - are ten minutes into a pretty detailed conversation about the age-old debate of cat-people versus dog-people when they're both called back to the counter at the same time. Cody is as calm as ever as he trots back to Rex's side, the German shepherd only nosing briefly at the side of Obi-Wan's carrier before he comes to heel; Obi-Wan's charges turn out to be twin tabbies, russet-yellow and quietly mature, who came to their owner already named Waxer and Boil.
"Like the sore, not the scientist," Obi-Wan grimaces, but there's undeniable affection in his face for them nonetheless, and Rex finds himself intrigued.
Which is why he finds himself asking whether Obi-Wan ever does sitting, and whether he could bear to be a dog-person for short stretches, and why the favor & question are returned, and why he's suddenly on his way home with a new number programmed into his phone that he definitely intends to call.
Cody gives him a Look that seems far too knowing, and Rex loves it, and him, to death.
This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, lol. My brain hopped onto the og game bandwagon so fast, though I've kinda derailed since having the steampunk fantasy au idea. But I figure I might as well release this anyway, I enjoyed it while it lasted.
The Voice
Idea synopsis below the cut
&&&&&&&&
What if you become friends with the Prototype through sheer happenstance? Like one day you're wondering through the woods (somewhat) near the abandoned PlayCo factory, and you hear this noise. At first, you can't make out what the fuck it is, only that it is weird, strange, and kinda warped.
Then, after a while, you stumble across a thick tangle of bushes, which 100% is where it's coming from. Low and behold, buried near the middle is a circular, steel mesh vent, descending deep into the ground. Obviously confused and completely fascinated, you hang around and listen closely. From far within, you begin to pick up the strange sound again, which you quickly come to realize is movement, and the occasional mumble.
Of course you end up letting out a hesitant call into it. All noise ceases from it for an eerie, long stretch, then you hear that same voice, much stronger, deeper, yet something a little off about it. You chalk it up to the fact it's coming through the long pipe, and that it's probably distorting your voice, too.
The voice demands to know who you are, to which you admittedly get a little playful about, turning it around on the stranger. They get very irritated at this, and you hear something loud move and them say something you can't fully understand thanks to how it comes out of the pipe before seeming to disappear.
Disappointed, you end up leaving, though are sure to mark the spot in your mental map. You return a few days later, a little earlier this time, and wait around til you catch sound coming from the pipe again. It takes a while, but it does happen, to your delight, and you try again to have a conversation. You know it's outright stupid, talking into a creepy pipe in the middle of the forest to an unknown person, but it's also kinda cool, a once in a lifetime event, ya know?
Thankfully, you manage to not drive the stranger off this time. It introduces itself as the Prototype, which obviously confuses you. Your confusion seems to frustrate them again, to which you apologize, not meaning to offend. It is a pretty rad name, all things considered. With that information, it pushes for your identity again. Hoping to avoid chasing them off a second time, you tell the stranger your name. Unfortunately, they do leave again afterward, leaving you once more wondering.
However, you're nothing if not determined, and you keep returning. Some days, particularly near the start, the stranger does not show up. Slowly, though, you manage to coax them into speaking to you. Their answers to anything you ask about them are always vague, sometimes a bit unsettling, but you can't help coming back. You talk about the day to day of your life, answer the stranger's questions even if they don't return the favor, eventually just kinda falling into a routine of coming to visit them.
Eventually, you do learn bits and pieces about him, too. Those close to him call him Ollie. He has a sister, and many friends who look up to him. One day, you make a silly, off-handed comment about them being mole people, and he replies with a cryptic, "No. Not moles.", refusing to elaborate. You are very used to him openly mocking you at this point, you never take it to heart.
"Ya know, Proto, you are sometimes the most off-putting person ever," you muse one evening. "But I like you. You always keep me on my toes, challenge me a bit, so to say, but you don't mind letting me speak my mind, even if you non-stop tease me about it. And I love hearing your thoughts, too. It's....nice."
Whatever his response, you can't make it out, and then he's gone. For a while after that, he doesn't show up. You fret that you fucked up again. A week goes by. Then two. Nearly three. Until you nearly jump out of your skin when, finally, Prototype returns, like nothing ever happened. You try not to let it get to you, his vague answer of having to "handle things" will have to be good enough. It's none of your business, after all, you're just happy to have your friend back.
Things take a turn, though. Proto becomes both less and more guarded, and appears to struggle with something. He asks more oddly specific questions, particularly about your environment. On a particular morning, he off-handedly mentions a decrepit shed with a caved-in roof you'd talked about finding once, though it had been a while. Curious, you decide to go back, then return "with a full report *salute*".
When you do, things are eerily quiet as you walk to the pipe. You talk into it about your admittedly less than thrilling finds, Proto appearing to let you without comment (for once, ha).
The first thing you pick up on is the smell. Musky, yet somehow altogether overly sugary sweet. You spot a thin trickle of smoke from there, misting around the pipe. Impishly, you ask if he's playing with smoke bombs now. Only...the smoke is getting thicker, outside the pipe, and Prototype isn't answering you.
Trying to figure out what's going on, where the smoke is coming from, you turn this way and that, scanning your surroundings, only to freeze. A shape looms in the trees just on the other side of the bushes from the pipe, large and menacing, it managing to stay concealed just enough by the thick foliage that you didn't see it until it was almost on top of you. Its face is split in a horrifyingly large grin, appearing to rest on a massive, multi-limbed body.
Animal instincts scream about the danger, while a more innate gut feeling has a heart-sinking certainty about what this thing is. You speak his name, hesitant, uncertain, bewildered, and a bit frightened. This is not what you were expecting, hell, you never expected to ever actually meet Prototype at all. He had been very adamant in the past about it, actually.
In the present, however, he appears to have had a change of...whatever might be in his chest. Elongated, needle-like fingers grab your face, further stun-locking you into place, careful but precise as he languidly twists one way, than the other, examining you. The smoke is getting thicker. It's getting harder to breath. That smile, somehow, stretches. The world starts to spin and dance, dots popping into your vision. He lets you go, and you stumble, legs refusing to cooperate. You fall into a heavier pool of the mist at floor level. After, you're barely aware of getting picked up and carted off before the world cuts to black.
From there, it becomes a game of survival, living under Prototype's twisted thumb. You learn more and more about what went on in PlayCo, the horrors that unfolded before and after the Hour of Joy. You try hard to remain Prototype's friend, despite everything, acting as much a small guiding conscious as you can to the many atrocities he feels he has to commit to keep his heaven alive and safe. He is a stubborn one, though, and you fret for the future, especially after a certain player arrives and begins aggravating Prototype by killing his allies and freeing Poppy. That's alright, you are there as his comfort tiny (and totally nothing else, haha, yep).
OR, as an alternative fun path, you end up in the factory without his knowledge, either following the player after noticing them or having the urge to explore it, despite Prototype's warnings and topic diversions in the past any time you'd bring it up. Imagine uncovering all the horrors by yourself first before finally meeting your friend, in a much more precarious and dangerous situation. Either way, Prototype is hell bent on catching you now, too, and you've got to grapple with what your friend truly is. You still care for him, though, dammit, having spent so much time talking with him, getting to see past the need for control and the maliciousness. Messy times and feelings all around.
