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@zombearillustrates
memes, memes everywhere
Alien robot meet alien rock
I'm aliiiiiive (inbetween bouts of work and other types of adulting and some Stardew Valley addiction lol)
Here's a sneak peek of the current wip I'm chipping away of here and there. The original sketch is drawn on paper, rest will be drawn digitally.
Yesterday I treated myself for my very first Blokees figure 😁
The Joja crew in my current save.
I have to admit I wasn't overly keen on Juliet at first but she and Jessie grew on me with time.
Close-ups below 😁
Me at 13: “god I can’t wait to go home and write fanfic”
Me at 17: “god I can’t wait to go home and write fanfic”
Me at 21: “god I can’t wait to go home and write fanfic”
Me at 27: “god I can’t wait to go home and write fanfic”
Me at 37: "god I can't wait to go home and write fanfic"
It felt good to put pencil to paper again 🙂
Been struggling with my mental health lately, so I tried to do a little sketch a day to regain some semblance of normality lol
So here it is, my current favourite bachelor of SDV —he's smug, he's ambitious and I love 'im. 😆 I wholly blame SDV Expanded and the Marry Morris mods lol
Some ES Megatron practice sketches 😁 This took me over a week since work is kicking my backside and I have no energy for more than a couple small drawings a day....
Decided to add a tiny Twitch as well, although drew her from memory so not 100% accurate lol
I want to rewrite the entire plot of the 2nd season of Earthspark:
1)Instead of Starscream, the main villain is Quintesson. (The whole season). That is, the Quintessons want to collect Emberstone, gain the power of Quintus Prime and destroy another world
2) Due to the fact that the Decepticons are not villains, we will have even more of their disclosures on the good side
3) And in the end, all together: Autobots, Malto, Decepticons will defeat the Quintessons
The Good ending. Peace, friendship, love 😘
Ooooh I like where this is going. :3
Here is a sneak peak of the next chapter (ch 10) of Sparks Of Mizar. :) The scene takes place during the episode Age Of Evolution Pt 2, just as the new Terrans hurry towards Mandroid's lair to save Dot and Megatron. It is rated M on AO3 and features my human OC, Sol.
-------------
Chapter 10 - The Hut On Spider Legs (in progress)
The air was crackling with apprehensive anticipation as the building grew and grew in size, like a hungry beast opening its maw to devour them all. They did not dare slow — not a single faltering step in their march — optics fixed straight ahead, their pace never wavering as they fell in line with the others’ purposeful stride. They could only hope that the thin veneer of bravado would be enough to see their objective through.
Their spark had not spent long in this new life, yet the weight of their mission pressed upon them with undeniable force. A whirlwind of emotions — their own and their siblings’, what a peculiar but endearing term, one that seemed to transcend species — gripped their joints in fear even as it propelled them forward with every step.
One pede after another. Then another. Marching on to face the monster, to save the family they had never met but already felt connected to beyond any doubt.
The weapon sat heavy in Nightshade’s servos.
Their mind was reeling. Assessing the plan, going over each and every step again and again. Calculating risks. Measuring opportunities. Analysing the cover story Hashtag had fabricated with such ease that Nightshade couldn’t help but admire her. It seemed their elder sister was a natural‑forged storyteller.
The young Terran cast a glance at their companions, taking in each and every detail of their appearance and mannerisms.
Naturally, Hashtag led the team — self‑appointed ‘leader’ of the gang — striding ahead with broad steps and perfectly mimicked bravado. Only the occasional murmur under her breath betrayed her nerves, as she used every remaining klik to rehearse her script to perfection.
Jawbreaker marched beside them in silence. The rotund Terran hadn’t uttered a word since they’d left the rest of their family at the docks, determined to save the ones whisked away by that madman, Mandroid.
Nightshade found an uneasy solace in their shared burden, though it did nothing to quiet their cerebral unit’s incandescent efforts to conjure up an image of this so‑called scientist. With their limited experience of the world, there were far too many gaps for their imagination to plug — and it eagerly ran wild with the possibilities.
‘Scientifically speaking, we are talking about a human,’ they thought, a futile attempt at reassuring their feverish mind. ‘A very twisted, conniving, and clever human…’
“Psst, Nightshade…”
‘…who despises Cybertronians…’
“Nightshade!”
‘…and commands an innumerable amount of Arachnamechs…’
“NIGHTSHADE!”
Hashtag’s whisper‑shout nearly made the young Terran leap out of their protoform. They snapped their helm towards her, bewildered.
Hashtag flashed a wide grin and a cheeky wink, then addressed the group with well‑practised confidence:
“It’s showtime.”
*****
The overwhelming mixture of joyous relief and impossible discovery almost made Megatron’s spark stall in its case. But before the paradoxical recognition could fully scramble his circuits — how would one recognise another without ever laying optics on them in the first place — the Cybertronian forced his cerebral circuits and cognitive subroutines into a more stable state. Megatron needed to make sure the two women were in no state of emergency.
His optics relentlessly raked over their bodies — Dot and the stranger — searching for any visible harm or injury. His battle protocols immediately kicked in as he analysed their mannerisms, looking for any hint of discomfort or well‑disguised ailment that could hinder a potential break‑out. He saw only surface abrasions, a few cuts here and there, and some blood smeared on skin and fabric. None of the stains looked fresh.
Megatron allowed himself a small vent of relief. None of the captives were in immediate danger requiring urgent medical attention. The ex‑Decepticon might still be able to patch up fellow Cybertronian soldiers on the battlefield long enough to get them to an actual medic, but when it came to injuries deeper than a mesh‑wound, he was not intimately familiar with the body’s inner workings — not Cybertronian, and certainly not human.
Even so, once his battle protocols were satisfied with the initial scans coming back green, his gaze could not stop gravitating towards the oh‑so‑familiar stranger.
His spark sang in agony as he finally took in the minute details of the woman kneeling beside Dot. The sharp cerulean light emitted by the energy whips and the soft, creeping glow of the Arachnamech’s purple optics created a sickly cacophony of shades dancing across her fatigue‑accentuated features. She seemed fragile — even more so than humans tended to be compared to Cybertronian physique — the topography of her pale complexion a stark map of sharply protruding bones and hollowed cheeks. The dark pools beneath her eyes were framed with copper‑coloured spots like darkening wildflowers swaying in late‑autumn meadows. Her vibrant, almost glowing blue eyes were even more prominent with the dark circles framing them, and her skin lacked the healthy glow Megatron had come to associate with humans during his time on this planet.
But what she lacked in vigour, she made up for with the fierceness of a thousand suns. The sparkle in her eyes, the set of her jaw, the animosity and determination crackling wildly and unbridled in her Electro‑Magnetic field — so clear Megatron could almost taste it…
‘What in the name of Unicron—’ The realisation crashed into the Cybertronian’s mind like an asteroid. ‘Perceivable EM field? Of a human? But how? Why do I recognise her? Who is she?’
Then he felt it. The more his analytical mind questioned the circumstances, the more the sensation grew in his spark. It was overriding his senses as his circuits fired off emerging memories in rapid succession: First just a faint hum, a suspected glitch — nothing but a mere nuisance. Then the ill‑fated training session and his request for Elita‑1’s secrecy. Later an emerging feeling as he was transported to Meridian’s headquarters. Then the impossible travels through the starfield. A silhouette on the verge of succumbing to their hardships. A timid but determined encouragement in his darkest moments. Two ancient wanderers’ reunion — but his spark had sensed another spark lingering behind them. A pull, spark‑deep and prominent — just like the one plaguing him for the past weeks, latched onto his very core. The feeling he had thought was a glitch in his system. The feeling no one could find the reason for or the source of.
Until now.
When her eyes met his optics, he could see almost a mirror of his predicament. The words formed by dry, cracked lips were the manifestation of his very thoughts.
“It’s you!”
Two little syllables — yet enough to shake him to his core and make him question everything he had ever been certain of about his existence. For the first time in ages, longer than he had ceased to be the leader of the Decepticon cause, longer than he had ever set a pede on this planet — he had questions.
However, millennia‑long battle routines could not be overwritten by the brief wanderings of a curious mind. Megatron held his glossa. The only sign of him acknowledging the strange occurrence was a curt nod and an almost invisible curve of his derma.
The woman still looked awestruck — perhaps in shock — but her trembling seemed to ease. That was enough reassurance for the Cybertronian that his message was received. That he saw her.
Then his optics shifted to Dorothy Malto, who was locked in a heated battle of wills with Mandroid. To the untrained eye, it might have seemed that the ex‑Lieutenant had lost her composure, engaging the mad scientist in a flurry of insults and quarrel, but Megatron knew better. Meridian may have served in the war, but he was not a trained strategist — let alone an esteemed one.
Dot might have had a hot temper at times, but Megatron knew a tactical move when he saw one. His friend was trying to rile the man up, to pry for an opening — either for Meridian to let slip vital information in the heat of the moment, or to distract him long enough to find a chance to break free.
Suddenly everything came to a halt, as the sound of metal banging on metal shook the dark walls of the hideout. Like a beast approaching with determined steps, the knocking grew louder by the second. The standstill air was the perfect auditory canvas for such violent clangour.
Even the amalgamation of man and metal stopped his actions in favour of lifting his gaze towards the main entrance of the building.
“Arachnamechs, get into position,” Mandroid swiftly turned towards the source of the disturbance, his human arm lifted to point at the large door at the end of the catwalk. “Our latest guests just requested entry and may require a proper welcome.”
As the spider robots scurried away to take their place alongside the edge of the walkway and form a line in front of the metal, leaving the ones behind still having the captives in their binds, Meridian walked up to the control panel with buttons glowing like a sickly nebula of stars. Before the self‑appointed saviour would press the one to start the door opening mechanism, he looked at Megatron with a malicious grin.
“Optimus would be a fool to come here, you said,” the man addressed the bound Cybertronian. “It seems like he indeed is one. Foolishly sentimental.”
Meridian pressed the button. The vigorous knocking stopped the second the hydraulics of the entrance started to hiss. Light poured into the dark, achingly similar to a different dimension conquering all that is to be feared — shedding brilliance into dark corners and chasing away the shadows lurking in the belly of the hungry beast.
‘Fragging idiot,’ Megatron couldn’t stop the barest hint of a fond smile forming on his dermas. ‘You’ve found us after all. Who are the new faces though, I wonder. They look like… protoforms?’
Even if he suspected it was part of the ruse, Megatron felt his spark twist with unease as he took in the entourage. The newbuilds marched at the front, three of them with distinct features — the weapons laid ill‑fitting in their servos. The one in front seemed the most confident, the one on the right followed along, but the tall, lanky one was trembling like a scared cyber‑hare facing a turbohound. Not necessarily the rescue team he would call the most sufficient, whatever the grand plan turned out to be.
Behind them walked the main attraction — Optimus Prime flanked by Twitch and Thrash, their servos bound by stasis cuffs.
“Oi, the name is Sparkleplug,” the young bot in the front exclaimed with exuberant bravado. “Me and me mates are here to deliver Optimus Prime, and a few extras we picked up along the way.”
Megatron’s optics were in a frenzy, darting between Dot, the stranger and the newcomers when he saw Dorothy’s lips move as she realised, at least partially, what was going on.
“Terrans?” he heard the ranger’s voice, barely above a whisper.
“Dot, what’s going on?”
The soft, frantic lull of the second voice was equally balm to his confused spark and fuel to the fire storming inside his circuits. There was no mistaking now. He had heard that voice before. He had heard and seen this strange, frail human with an EM field before ever actually laying optics on her.
On the panes of impossible starfields, that ancient tales referred to as the Null Horizon — the purgatory of the eternally lost, never to find rest in the AllSpark — where Megatronus Prime heeded him as a fellow traveller to find his purpose in the Fallen Prime’s eternal wanderings…
Megatron already met her.
A little Heatshadow treat for the upcoming Valentines Day. <3 (Had to feed the plot bunnys in my brain or they threathened to consume my grey matter instead... o.O )
One of the first concept
SG Ravage
Seriusly cool concept art 🤩🐈⬛️🤖
The many faces of Heatwave 😊😯🫤😡🧑🚒🤖
I felt like practicing while I was thinking about the next project. 🤔💭
non-writers will never understand the mental illness of writing an entire conversation in your head while doing dishes and then forgetting every word the second you open a blank doc
Yyyyyyep 😅🥲
So RE9 is coming out soon and (despite how much I tried to avoid spoilers lol) I@ve heard good ol' Mr Kennedy is going to take one of the leading roles again. :3
And the idea just came to me. A quick, silly little drawing about gramps Leon muttrering about the good old days. xD
I swear the main gang is going to haunt these games even from the spirit realm one day (not that I'm complaning).
A brief refresh from my AU so I draw Soundwave being an old dad (love him sm)
Based on this
I feel you Soundwave more than I like to admit... T_T xD
