insirisarts

[insirisarts]

hi there! i was wondering if it would be okay if i used your Poppy Avenue logo in a Science Time with Dr. Pine aesthetic that I'm making? (with credit!!) if not no worries!! 😊

Of course! I’m fine with anyone using my stuff as long as I’m credited! (And in cases like this, the original au creator(s) obviously)

[insirisarts]

sad to say… I was a Quotev kid…

Please participate in my research (also, if you say other, please put it in the tags/comments !)

[insirisarts]

god reverse zombie bite Stan is so easy to pump angst into.

like, I enjoy the idea that Stan is giving some of his life to turn these people back and that over time it’s slowly killing him. But not too fast so it takes a while to notice. So it’s been a while and they have their whole colony setup, and the people there are starting to realize that their free cure is slowly killing himself.

they don’t want to loose their free cure obviously, but they also can’t just stop curing people either.

until one day, Stan mentions his genius brother who could possibly make a cure…

so now it’s a kidnapping mission to snatch this guy who looks exactly like their free cure who may or may not have the same abilities as him (let’s say Ford can’t cure people by biting), and on the other hand Ford is just experiencing this random ass cult who wants him for his brain. For what, their zombie god?

Ford’s already freaked out by the time they get to a very lethargic Stan, who sees Ford and is immediately panicked because that’s his brother being brought to him, which obviously means he needs to cure him. And so he bites Ford.

now everyone is freaking out because Ford thinks Stan is some sort of aware super zombie that got a cult centered around him, Stan thinks that Ford didn’t want to be cured, and everyone else is trying to get this guy to make a cure using the last of their free cure.

over time, things get cleared up and Ford gets started on the cure, but he realizes how Stan isn’t really being treated like a person anymore, just a cure factory, and how this slowly killing him. Despite everything, Ford doesn’t like seeing his bro being treated like that.

reverse kidnapping.

Zombies as a whole are so easy to pump angst into really. The tragedy of seeing your loved ones walking corpses and being forced to kill them again.

There really is so much kidnapping happening in my aus, its hilarious. I think the only two that don't have-

no wait, cat stan sort of kidnapped Shifty. Horse Stan now rises as my sole au that no one got kidnapped in.

Anyway the tragedy of seeing your brother getting treated like an object is so awful. Ford needs to save him but also figure out the cure thing because these people are right in that a cure is extremely valuable in the current zombie age. He needs to get Stan out of here but then there's the moral dilema of dooming this cure bases society if he takes Stan and his knowledge on the cure and runs.

[insirisarts]

Siren Stan for Mermay

Alright, context for my personal interpretation for sirens so this design makes sense.

I designed him based on my version of sirens from a personal project I’ve been developing for around a decade. They are a mix of the original bird folk from Greece and the more modern fish folk. There are more aquatic adept sirens and more land adept, but they are the same. Stan is an aquatic siren. Sirens and mers are different people, sirens live in saltwater and are social people who live in colonies which are titled based on the number of members. Mers on the other hand are freshwater and solitary along with being very territorial.

There are also horns. Short explanation, characters based on mythical creatures, or fairy tales, are separate from humans. The group overall are called Mythics, and almost all of them have horns. This is related to innate magic ability. Horns can be magically hidden, appearing as part of their hair (with the horns original color still visible).

Sirens are made up of multiple kinds of ocean fish and have aspects of either sea birds or birds of paradise. Fish and feathered. They are also very venomous. They are most commonly covered in venomous quills both on their bodies and in their plumage, but they can also be spiked and barbed (which Stan is) but lack them in their feathers. They also have acidic venomous spit. All of this is because they primarily eat meat and hunt large game communally.

Stan is a mix of a red snapper (courtesy of @aroace-get-out-of-my-face because imagining him swimming is funny), pufferfish for the spikes (yes, I know they are poisonous not venomous, but the thought of him puffing up is also funny), stingray for the barbs, and a king bird of paradise. I usually give sirens group markings based on families and the colony overall, but I’m unsure if Stan would keep his after being kicked out so I didn’t include it for now.

Here he is (and also some sketches of him with the siren from my personal project) there will be more siren info after the images if you want to know more.

Bonus stuff if you want to know anything that was unrelated to the design:

A group of sirens is named after the number of members, starting at a soloist, duet, trio, quartet and so-on. With larger groups they become a choir, ensemble, orchestra/chorus, and a cacophony (<--- specifically for 100+ members).

Masc sirens are brighter in color (because fish and birds), but if they are mtf trans their colors will slowly dull over time, and they will lose more flashy feathers. Fem sirens are usually brown-ish with little bright coloring, ftm transition works the same but in reverse. Otherwise, you just end up with a mix of the two depending on individual presentation.

Aquatic sirens can have land legs, but it requires magic. Same thing for land sirens. Aquatic sirens do need to soak their scales if they choose to live on land, which can be done by living by the sea or making a saltwater pool at their home (will need to be cleaned often). Sirens and mers can stay in the other’s body of water, but it’s not healthy to do it long-term.

The only exception to the horn thing is elves, but they have other things related to extremely genetically dominant red eyes.

Sirens and other people with sharp teeth don’t open their mouths to smile (The Sharp Tooth Taboo). Sharp teeth are seen as something threatening and are discouraged from being shown, which yes, does suck and is a topic talked about in my project.

Some people have more visible mythical traits than others, even in the same groups. It really depends on the environment and family history.

[insirisarts]

Can you kiss your own boobs?

Yes, without using my hands to move them / Yes but only using my hands / Kinda? / No / I am sans boob

[insirisarts]

at some point I should go through and explain all of the references in the titles I make. I mean… some are obvious, but others might need a second glance lol (and some I just came up with haha)

[insirisarts]

[insirisarts]

I keep on thinking on mystery trio aus and also how few early weirdmageddon aus there are. so imagine with me somehow Stan ends up in gravity falls during Fords paranoia era and somehow Fidds is still there and not fully cult leader crazy yet. Ford still tries to get Stan to take the journal, Stan gets branded, the works.

But when the portal gets activated Bill goes ahead and makes his way through and starts the oddpocalypse.

now, rather than it being like, three days, it’s weeks upon months on the run around town. Trying to keep Bill from capturing Ford, since he doesn’t have his destabilizer. No one is happy, Stan and Ford are constantly fighting. Fidds is loosing his mind and at the edge of his rope. They get to the unicorn glen at some point and basically break in and force them to let them stay while they figure stuff out. somehow, they manage to get unicorn hair and decide to hold up in the museum. And discover just about all of the town survivors (human and anomaly) in there. Everyone is convinced that if they sacrifice Ford they will be spared, and it takes Stan threatening physical violence and Fidds mental violence to stop that from happening.

they fortify the museum and everyone gets sleep. Que bonding and reconciliations (for the most part, Stan and Ford still have issues) and Fidds recovers enough to start building a battle bot, nothing like the Shack-a-tron, but it’ll work. They restart project mentum, most everyone gets their thoughts encrypted, Stan isn’t there, he’s out gathering supplies. Ford discovers the banishment spell. But then one day something happens.

the barrier goes down.

Ford is captured.

they go to save him.

they manage to distract Bill like in cannon.

Ford and Stan still argue.

everyone is turned into tapestrys (Except for Fidds and maybe Tate or Emma depending on how this au would go.) When Bill comes back with Ford and Stan are still caged, Stan looks weird, more disheveled hair under the beanie, but no one notices. Neither do they notice the worried look on his face. Ford Makes a deal with Bill.

While Ford lands on his knees, eyes closed. Stan removes his beanie, all of the hair falling to the floor. Hat clutched in six-fingered hand. The other pulling out the memory gun.

[insirisarts]

oh it’ll be easy! it’s just a short vignette collection! I can make them fast! It’ll be at most 3000 words for the first set!

(There’s still a lot I need to finish, I just have the main stuff)

Kill me /j

[insirisarts]

i wanna talk about this shot

[insirisarts]

guys…

I just realized that in the Dr.Pine au that while Stan is living one of those inspirational lifetime movies with this puppet show.

Ford is living a rivalry/assassination flick. And it’s also a comedy of errors since he fails every time.

[insirisarts]

So many people who love generative AI don't have a creative bone in their body and can't imagine anyone actually enjoying the time and effort it takes to write something or draw something.

[insirisarts]

Poppy Avenue Update!

for those of you wondering when the first vignette collection is coming out, I’m getting there I promise. I just don’t know how to write ford for his first vignette and I’ve been busy with school lol. I’ve got the important stuff done, so now I just need the connective tissue (and maybe some art idk).

[insirisarts]

I’ve been tinkering with the idea of an urban fantasy “All Fairy Tales Are True” setting where some fairy tale characters are mortals who reincarnate and live through their story again and again with no memory of their past lives, but other characters are immortal, carrying over biases and grudges and regrets from the last time they went through this.

Snow White’s dwarves keep her room exactly as she left it, and keep a wary eye on the horizon for the day she returns. When she does they treat her like a beloved daughter come home, cook her favourite meals, warn her to stay away from apples this time, and keep calling her the wrong name.

Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother found her a touch ungrateful last time, and has decided not to appear to her this time around to teach her a lesson in gratitude. This Cinderella, without the memory of the last time, is still a terrified, miserable woman desperate to escape her awful situation.

The Witch in the gingerbread house has developed a thousand traps to eat those goddamned kids. She’s failed every time. She lives a life of Sisyphean torment previously known only to cartoon coyotes.

[insirisarts]

Things you can stay instead of "k1lled", "murked" or "unalived":

involuntarily converted to room temperature

cancelled on a corporeal level

successfully transitioned into fertiliser

rendered permanently horizontal

sent to investigate the potential existence of an afterlife

[insirisarts]

OOO-RI Chapter: 3 (WIP)

Bright early morning rays were glistening off the surface of the nearby ocean shore. Specks of glittering gold shimmering with the mellow movement of the calm waves. Similarly, bright silver sparks speckled atop the dew-covered grass of the mainland. A cool breeze wafted over the canopies of the towering trees across the camp, creating a gentle rustling that embraced the surrounding natural peace. Resonating echoes of windchimes acted as accompaniment. None of the residents were yet roused from their slumber, still cradled in the expansive arms of the great Hypnos. Minds enveloped by the lucid crafts of Morpheus.

Soon, however, small animals began to emerge as the nocturnal predators retreated to their dens. Birdsong filled the air, putting an end to the quiet. Small insects began to hover lowly near the dewy grass and shrubbery, drinking and eating their fill. Fish, on occasion, would swiftly break the calm of their watery homes to catch any unfortunate bugs too close to the surface, only to disappear with nothing but a lingering ripple; that too, would soon fade. A waking ray of yellow shined through the window of the cabin nearest the incline that led to the beach. The intruding light was low enough that it beamed over the man closest to the window and directly into the eyes of his cabin mate.

Mario slowly stirred as the dull maroon of light hitting his eyelids urged his mind to wake. A small groan of displeasure preceded him lifting his arm to fruitlessly block the sun from his face. He slowly flipped himself to his side as his hand firmly rubbed at his still closed eyes. Yawning wide enough to crack his jaw, Mario clumsily swung his legs off the edge of his bed, the momentum assisting him to sit up. He pressed the palms of his hands to his head, pulling the entirety of both across every inch of his face, lightly scratching at the sides of his temple. Finally, he lifted his eyelids with great effort, only to have his gaze meet the still sleeping form of his roommate.

He would say that Bryan was an interesting man. Compared to Mario's own shirtlessness and sweatpants, his companion chose to wear much too small basketball shorts, along with a loose-fitting white T-shirt that was humorously adorned with a graphic of a cat on top of a multi-shaded blue background, a yellow semi-circle baring the text “Coming This Summer, Gay People!”. Or at least, Mario found it humorous. Not only that, but before they had gone to sleep that night, the shorter man had insisted that not only he provide Mario with probably some of the best sheets he had ever slept in; but also, a whole mattress; which was also probably the softest thing he’s ever slept on. Overall, this was the best sleep of his life. The still resting man hadn’t yet asked for reimbursement.

Why the man had seemingly carried the equivalent of a large house in his god-pocket, Mario would probably never know. However, he would continuously insist on saying “IKEA” instead. Frankly, he knew Bryan didn’t know what an “IKEA” was, other than it maybe being some form of human furnishing store. But considering his roommates’ lack of knowledge of the mortal world, it only served to amuse Mario even more.

Mortals often did not understand how gods and their more fractional divine kin carried such large loads. The answer is god-pockets. Small tears in the fabric of existence where godly beings, and others of similar power, could store mass amounts of physical items. Whether if they were for blessings, godley gifts, or merely a place to keep their stuff. In this case, a mattress and bed sheets. A very good mattress and bed sheets. 

Man, Mario really didn’t want to get up. But all the same, one must rise for the day. Even if that day didn’t include the comfort of this bed.

Standing from his sitting position on his bed, Mario opened his own god-pocket to retrieve his toiletries and a change of clothes. Similar to the ones he wore previously, only they smelt clean, were untorn, and lacking in bloodstains and dirt smudges. He treaded lightly on his toes, making a swift and silent retreat to the door of their cabin. Gently, he pulled the door open, praying for it to not squeal. Thankfully, the hinges seemed to be well oiled, and the door opened with little fanfare. Just as quietly, Mario stepped onto the porch of the cabin, using his fingers to muffle the door as he slowly slid the latch shut. Mission success: Don’t wake new roommate.

Only to curse himself as he realized that he didn’t grab his shoes. 

…

Whelp, he would just have to watch where he stepped on the way to the bathhouses then. Hopefully they weren't too crowded.

With the arrival of the new day came new people, Mario noted. Unfamiliar faces dotted around parts of the camp, taking their own personal tours, as he couldn’t see Kaykrea anywhere. She was likely out caring for the camp itself or with The Oracle. Either way, new faces meant new opportunities to talk to people and not almost screw it up within the first ten minutes like he did with a certain sleeping someone. However, meeting new people tended to require that he didn’t smell like he rolled in a pile of corpses and sweat, so first he needed a shower.

Frankly, it was rather embarrassing walking from his cabin, clearly disheveled and dirty, to the bathhouse where everyone in the vicinity could see him. Sadly, it couldn’t be helped, he supposed. Not that it really mattered, as long as he acted subtly, he would be fine… Which is why it only sucked more to ram face-first into a young man on the path.

Honestly, the only thing that was bruised for him was his ego. The shorter man on the other hand was fully shoved to the ground. The hat he was wearing went tumbling off of his head with the movement. A sharp exhale of air exited his lungs as he soundlessly yelped. Mario scrambled to assist the man back onto his feet. Seizing him by his shoulders, Mario tugged him upwards, mentally noting how light he was, then firmly planting him on his feet. With just as much vigor, he began to pat down and wipe off the dirt and grass clinging to the other. Only to have his attempts shooed away by flailing hands.

“I’m so sorry!” Mario panicked, backing away from the green-clad man as he leaned down to retrieve his hat. As he rose to meet Mario’s eyes, his eyes were a wide and piercing blue-ish green.

[insirisarts]

Poppy Avenue WIP

Alright last work in progress post for y'all until I get the first vignettes finished.

Once again @aroace-get-out-of-my-face is who expanded on the concept, I'm just writing stuff haha.

Gravity Falls, Oregon. The epicenter of all that is weird and strange. Like an inverse earthquake of oddness, bringing in waves of the inhuman and imaginary. At least, that’s how Stanford Pines would see it. It is a small rural town in the middle of a pine forest, filled with people who were just as odd as their little home. Whether a human resident or one of the numerous mythical creatures, no one here could be considered ‘normal’. Not one could comment on another for being off, as they would get in return a statement about themselves. No, no one could truly judge another; not by their hair, their eyes, their taste, their interests, their species nature… or the number of fingers on their hands. Stanford felt like he finally belonged.

Backupsmore University would have been the absolute last decision of any scientist worth their salt. The only things they had been known for was being everyone's backup-plan and having mostly bug-free dorms, eugh. Although Ford saw it a bit differently. He could have gone to any college in America, hell, maybe the world. However, after he was dismissed by West Coast Tech, he found that all of his other options simply didn’t scratch the itch of where his interest lay. All except for Backupsmore, and its unorthodox curriculums.

Now listen. Ford would have still happily gone to any other school in the country, anywhere else would have been better. But the humiliation of being rejected made him completely wash the idea from his mind. He had something to prove now. To the West Coast Tech administrators. To his past bullies. To his parents. To Him.

All of that accumulated into him working his damndest to be the best student to ever graduate Backupsmore; just to ensure that he would get what he was craving all his life. Now here he stood, freshly twenty-two with a new piece of freshly bought land in the middle of the woods, with a cabin currently being built in the fresh clearing.

Of The oddities of Gravity Falls, the Corduroy’s sat firmly in the middle. A strange family of bright red-haired lumberjacks that had been there since the town’s founding. They all were equally intense in their own ways. But none came close to the boy currently building the foundation to his house. ‘Boyish’ Dan, as he was called, was a sixteen-year-old red mountain, with just the barest of beards beginning to come to his face. His brow sat low, and his piercing green eyes -the kind that would surely soften with age- made Ford think the kid could see into his soul. He was strong, like someone else he once knew, and startlingly tall with a broad frame and a deep grumble of a voice to match. You wouldn't think he was still underage if you saw him simply wandering around. It was truly a shock to Ford when he learned the fact himself. All the same, the kid had determination and was a hard worker, so Ford couldn’t truly complain. Not that he wanted to.