#fusion's ships

[fatherfigurefusion]

Thanks to the individual AO3 tags for these Fangans, we could finally see the ship stats!

[serendippertyy]

Jesterdoll fankid? 👉👈 (Ragatha x Pomni)

pincushion clown!! 💜🩷

im genuinely so happy with how this one came out- if you can't tell by now I love adding patches to characters haha

[emistations]

If Shadic exists, what if we had an Amy & Silver fusion.

Call it Amver!

[mecha-art]

HEAR ME OUT

i've resently been blessed by the knoledge of Mitu x coral and my headcanon is that mitu is actually huge compared to everybody else.

[artastic-friend]

With finals coming up next week I've been very busy, but here are some doodles I did of my own sorta Shadow and Sonic fusion! (More SU inspired kinda fusion)

I like to think that their first few times being fused they would be very unstable and thus their appearance would not be very cohesive either. Both hedgehogs would be constantly trying to fight over who is more in control of their shared body, only for them to eventually be defused and fight about who messed things up or something lol

But over time, as they master the ability more, and grow to understand eachothers' strengths and weaknesses more they will dtsrt to be a better team and their fusion will become more whole and more stable, becoming their own new combined enity of sorts! I've seen concepts of a sonic and shadow fusion in the past, and I know I am not at all the first person to do this lol, but still I wanted to draw my own version of Shadic ^^

Their stable form! ^

I can totally picture a fake sonic game where the main gimick is sonic and shadow having to work together to defeat these extra powerful forces or enemies and that through fusion they realize they harness much more chaos energy and power and are capable of so much more, but they first gotta learn how to work together better 😁

The ultimate sonadow game lol /j

There are a lot of othet things I've thought about for them, like their shoes in their unstable state are mismatched since they (as a fusion) cannot compromise on who they are and what they do, neither wants to give in and so their form has two different shoes for two different purposes making them less efficient and effective overall for running or skating, vs, in their stable form their shoes have combined where the shoe is made more for running but also has the airshoe capabilities to give them a boost and help each foot bounce off the ground easier with less muscular effort, making them much faster than they would normally be.

The “gameplay” aspect would start out as just switching between shadow and sonic and the initial fusion would kinda chaotic but would could still switch between using shadow and sonic except now they are the same entity, and you realize that their abilities are really janky all of the sudden, (this would be a scripted loss I think for a mini-boss fight) but then with some cutscenes and more of playing then individually you start to get more abilities of them working as a team and then when the fuse for the boss fights they would start getting better abilities and their model starts to appear more cohesive too!

By the end of the game they form a whole and complete entity of Shadic, and they are like the best parts of Sonic and shadow combined as they now work together seamlessly

The fusion would probably be due to some external magic/energy source that is for the purpose of the game, since that’s how Sonic games tend to be with new gimmicks and gameplay mechanics, so by the end of the game it would probably be destroyed or something after they defeat the big bad.

But you definitely get a really cool final boss fight as Shadic and maybe even a super Shadic who knows.

doodles from when I was conceptualizing:

[Eye closeup warning]

Bonus:

Their eyes would look something like this when they FIRST fused I think

[dimeadozencows]

Sooo I've been obsessed with this au for a few days now and I thought.. why not use my abilities for evil

These are the designs from the tf2 x Steven Universe au by @lenny-link drawn in Steven Universe's art style! Or my best attempt at it lol.

I think the best looking ones are spy, heavy and soldier :]

Close ups↓

Also here's just the background; it's the bg from the tf2 lineup as a SU background, I'm really proud of how it looks hsjdjd

I also HAD to draw Andalusite by @gracefireheart cus good god he has taken over my entire heart. He's truly everything. The myth the legend the icon the moment. Happy pride month.

I like giving him a receding hairline cus. medic(has hair) + heavy(bald) = less hair. mathematics. The first drawing is my puny amateurish attempt at Rebecca Sugar's beautiful doodle art style. (I think I nailed the face and hair tho hehe)

(Your drawings are what introduced me to this au, I love them sm- I really hope you'll like this!!) (p.s; sorry for giving him a boob window. I wasn't strong enough.)

Aaaand my own design for a medic and scout fusion, Tourmaline! They only really form him when they both feel like wreaking havoc. he's impulsive, inattentive, hyperactive, he has no self preservation, and he's low-key dumb. When his senses kick in is usually when they unfuse. He can't see for shit and has to constantly remind himself to put on his glasses

(scout and medic shitty lil bratty kid + uncle who enables them dynamic truthers rise up)

(I had so many ideas for things I wanted to post so I thought I'd just put it all in one place gsjdjd, I hope people won't mind :'] )

[pastel-medic]

"I won't abandon you again."

I know people bash on Spy being a bad dad but I'm so weak for Spydad ;3; I just wanna see them as a happy family let me have this dammit-

Anyway Happy Father's Day!!! 🍰💖

[quartztwst]

this actually makes me giggle helpp (quartzul divorce)

this is actually super fun lmaooo

[fatherfigurefusion]

Closet brony Ace Markey?

(Also, Whit and Eden are both Pinkie Pie-coded. I said it.)

[fatherfigurefusion]

Please?

Give a ship. And I'll say my thoughts

[landwriter]

Hi! I hope you feel better soon!

This is a great prompt by @academicblorbo about Hob Gadling being the landlord of the Dead Boys. It has a wonderful fill already by @omgcinnamoncakes but I’d love to see what you come up with for it!

Alternative prompt from me if that doesn’t work for your brain: remember the date between Jenny and Maxine? How about one between Jenny and Esther? Poor Jenny is going to really question her taste in beautiful blonde women 😭

Thank you! I saw ‘landlord’ and ‘decades’ and blacked out. I love Hob having them as tenants. Maybe even before the modern day meeting in Sandman.

The Sandman/Dead Boy Detectives, 2.4k, G Dream/Hob, pre-slash, alternating/outsider POV, found family, a reunion and revelations etc.

---

Hob did not, strictly speaking, have tenants. It was more of a minor haunting. Pun intended.

The small room above the pub and below his flat wasn’t worth charging anyone rent for; when he first bought the building he had put a handsome oak desk in there and some bookshelves before wondering who he was possibly keeping up appearances for. Who was he going to take back upstairs that would stop and say, Wait, can I see your office? So he’d left it as more or less an abandoned room.

When he realized a pair of boys were using it as their clubhouse, he didn’t do anything at first. He saw them quietly coming and going a couple times, disappearing around the corner of the first landing. Brazen things. He meant to call after them, but the shout had died in his throat. He’d been young once. He still remembered the need to get away from it all. It was only when he went to check if they’d been making a mess of the room that he discovered it was still locked.

He’d crouched down and inspected the latch and found no marks at all. Huh, he’d said, and jiggled it again, and been a little more interested in whatever clever way they were getting into it after they disappeared up his stairs. Then he didn’t see them for weeks, and assumed they had gotten bored and stopped.

Until they came back. In the middle of an argument, striding through the pub like they owned it. Hob straightened up as they passed him.

“I cannot believe you broke the mirror.”

“I was in a rush! It’s not my fault you forgot you needed Arcana Incantatum after we arrived at the church. And found the demon.”

“I hardly forgot, I only made the mistake of assuming you would know to pack it by now.”

Hob raised his eyebrows. The boys disappeared into the back hallway. He followed them as they went upstairs, too preoccupied with their drama to notice Hob. They turned onto the landing, still carrying on. Even as they walked through the door. The locked, closed door.

Hob blinked. Then he drew his keys from his pocket and opened the door. The boys were still inside. One of them was pulling a mirror out of a backpack that was several times too small for it. They didn’t even look up, and Hob wondered how he couldn’t possibly have put it together earlier. He cleared his throat.

“Hello, boys.” That caught their attention. Hob grinned. “Seems we’re neighbours.”

---

Edwin abhorred getting involved with the living. He and Charles got along perfectly well on their own. They were a duo. An intrepid pair. Best mates, like Charles often stressed whenever he was about to ask something particularly ridiculous of Edwin. They were solid together. As solid as two ghost boys could be. The living, though, were messy and unpredictable.

Perhaps the most salient fact at present: Charles invariably became attached to them.

“He’s sad, mate. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You said those exact words in ‘94 about a dog. At least ask Hob himself.”

Before you decide to adopt him too.

Hob Gadling, irritatingly, was unobjectionable on every ground Edwin could think of. He had made no imposition upon them. When he found them, he only asked them their business, and then told them he was usually downstairs, or upstairs, if they needed anything they couldn’t procure themselves. He had an interest in rare and old books, as it happened. In explaining this, he had also hinted at being far older than his looks would suggest, which vexed Edwin twice over. He knew his curiosity would not be slaked until he talked to Hob, but then he would be the one getting involved with the living, and Charles would hardly let him forget it.

“Do you think he’s really immortal? Mate’s far too calm. Last week I saw him stop a fight downstairs by stepping right between these huge blokes. He just said something and smiled and they backed right off.” Charles lit up. “Do you reckon he’d teach me how to do that? Conflict de-escalation, innit? I could show him some moves with the cricket bat, I bet. Oh, do you think he’s a cricket fan?”

It was obviously a hopeless case, and since the Dead Boy Detectives never took on hopeless cases, there was only one course of action that remained. Edwin had long since disabused himself of the notion he needed to breathe. He had no beating heart, yet when he was startled, he would find himself clutching his chest. Now, he exhaled slowly through his nose in an entirely superfluous sigh of resignation. “Well, Charles, shall we go talk to him?”

---

When the millennium came around, Hob found himself celebrating it with his accidental tenants. There was something gloriously satisfying about being able to make a toast to the next one and have it taken seriously. He’d asked them if they had something better to do - spectral trouble to get into et cetera - and they both looked at him with almost identical put-upon and incredulous expressions.

Hob had a terrible suspicion they thought they were taking care of him as much as he thought he was taking care of them.

Edwin, with his insatiable curiosity and, deep underneath it, something Hob thought he recognized from himself: a sharp animal ferocity and a refusal to go until he’s good and done, natural laws be damned. Charles, still brightly, painfully alive for a ghost - who should be alive still, by all rights, but nothing of this life was fair - who joked to cover up hurt in a way Hob knew too, and glowed any time Hob turned so much as a kind word to him.

He wondered what they saw when they looked at him.

The year ticked over, and technology kept working. Charles grinned innocently and said he could probably possess the telly and break it that way if Hob wanted?

Hob’s heart twinged. He knew they weren’t his, not to keep, but it seemed that teenagers didn’t change at all over the centuries, even if the boys were only sort of teenagers in the way Hob was only sort of in his thirties. It didn’t change that they’d been punted from the mortal coil before having a chance to grow up, and figure out the kind of men they were, and make their own choices and fuck up and try to be better than their fathers, and everything everyone deserved. Hob had made more than his share of mistakes. They hadn’t been given the chance to make nearly any at all.

So they made toasts to the new millennium, to the detective agency, to themselves, all stuck out of time in different ways and refusing to move on for different reasons, and Hob allowed himself to think of Robyn and privately pretend that they were his all the same.

---

A week later, Hob was reminded of the other universal traits of teenagers when he mentioned his stranger and both boys began to grill him with terrifying alacrity. Before turning to his dating life, like ravening bloody wolves. When Edwin had asked, in a specifically nineteenth century manner that Hob remembered all too well, if Hob had always been unmarried, he’d nearly put his head in his hands.

“It can be hard for me to associate with the living too, you know. For obvious reasons.”

Charles had turned to Edwin and hissed “See? I told you.”

Right in front of him. Nobody had taught them manners.

“Manners, Charles,” replied Edwin loftily. “We will, of course, respect your privacy. A man is entitled to his secrets.”

“You’ll go upstairs and rifle through my personal things, is what you’ll do,” said Hob.

Charles coughed to hide his laugh. Edwin flushed and looked away. Hob snorted, and told them about Eleanor and Robyn. Properly. It was a strange relief. He’d told the story wrong for plausibility’s sake so many times he had been worried he’d forget the truth of it one day.

They had listened, and been remarkably quiet until Charles piped up and offered to set him up with a ‘really fit’ ghost. Hob had roundly shut that down. Woefully, not all explanations were satisfying enough. Charles cornered him again the next morning while he was cleaning the bar.

“No, mate, I still don’t get it.” Hob was about to say he no more wanted to be with someone who couldn’t feel pleasure from his touch than someone who would grow old and be taken from him while he stayed the same, when Charles went on, bafflingly, to ask, “Why don’t you meet your mysterious friend more often than once a century?”

Hob sighed. “Adults are often busy, Charles.” Nevermind that he had begun to wonder the same since the eighteenth century. He’d always just assumed time passed differently for his stranger.

Charles just laughed and perched himself on the bar top. “Ooh, low blow. We’re busy too, you know. Plenty of cases to solve.”

“Really,” said Hob. “You’re busy. Right now.”

Charles waggled his eyebrows.

“Charles, I am not a case,” said Hob, sternly as possible. “I’m not even a ghost. He’s not a ghost. No ghosts.”

“We could investigate. Maybe ghosts are involved. What even is he? Why every hundred years? Is it some sort of Persephone situation?”

Hob bit his lip against shouting I don’t know! I don’t know anything about him! Instead, he tried to smile, and felt it come out as a wince instead. “He’s very private.”

Charles scowled. “Yeah, obviously. You don’t even know his name. He can’t be that good of a friend if he’s too busy to see you more than once a century.”

Hob couldn’t see the expression on his own face, but he saw Charles’ shocked reaction well enough. It was so long ago for him, and still Hob knew at once what Charles saw now: that first time you manage to visibly hurt a grown-up’s feelings, people who seemed too old and too stern to actually feel pain, when you’d been going around kicking at them like a new foal, just to stretch your legs.

“Sorry,” said Charles, instant regret chasing his surprise. He was a good kid.

“It’s alright,” said Hob. He meant it. He looked down at the shining bartop. His hands were restless with the urge to light a cigarette. He gave in. It wasn’t like Charles would be dying of lung cancer any time soon if he decided to follow Hob’s example. “I don’t think he would say he’s very good at being a friend either. Truth is, I’d love to see him more often. But we had an awful fight the last time we met. If he forgives me, I’ll have to ask.”

“Mates always make up,” said Charles earnestly. He was such a good kid.

“I suppose they do.” Charles still looked sorry, and Hob clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. Thanks for looking out for me, Charles.”

Charles beamed at him. “Always. We’ve got your back, me and Edwin.”

---

Charles couldn’t bloody believe it. Hob’s friend was here. There was nobody else it could be. He and Edwin were watching from a nearby table, pretending to be absorbed in their own conversation. Neither man noticed them. They were too busy looking at each other.

He couldn’t imagine spending more than a century apart from Edwin. The way Hob had talked about him and his stranger over the years, it sometimes seemed like they were best mates too, no matter how little they saw each other. He was dead sure that’s what had Hob looking so gutted when he thought nobody was looking. He had known they would make up, though. Maybe now Hob would be happier.

“Charles, we really ought not eavesdrop,” hissed Edwin. Right as he scooted his chair closer, the cheeky hypocrite. Hob and his friend were talking too quietly to properly hear, their heads bent together. Lots to catch up on, Charles reckoned. A hundred years. He couldn’t stop thinking about the number. It seemed impossible. Funny, he couldn’t imagine that long away from Edwin, but he could imagine spending that long being best mates. There was nobody he’d rather hide from Death with.

Hob’s face was doing something strange as his long-lost friend talked. Then Hob moved and grasped him by the shoulders, so tight that his knuckles stood out in relief. The man said something in low tones and Hob shook his head, and then pulled him in for a hug. The man stiffened and then relaxed, and his arms came up around Hob’s.

Their cheeks both looked wet.

Charles swallowed and it felt suddenly a little like he was choking. He should look away, only he couldn’t.

“They must be great friends,” said Edwin softly.

“Yeah,” he managed to croak. We won’t ever need to have a reunion like this because I’m never going to lose you, mate. I won’t let them take you. It was stuck behind the phantom lump in his phantom throat. His hand, without him telling it to, reached out and grabbed hold of Edwin’s. Edwin squeezed it hard, and Charles knew he didn’t have to make his voice work after all.

Then the man pushed Hob away, but only far enough to grab his face and pull him back again, thumbing over Hob’s cheeks, and beside him, Edwin honest-to-god gasped, and then Charles momentarily forgot how thoughts worked too.

---

It happens thus: in the New Inn, just next door to the White Horse, some 639 years after they first met, Hob Gadling and Dream of the Endless share their first kiss. Neither, if they had bothered to think about it, would have intended to have an audience, but it’s a well-known fact that some kisses cannot wait, and theirs was chief among them, being that it had so much to say, and was so very long overdue.

I missed you, it said, and I came back, it said, and Please don’t go away from me again, and I could not.

And atop them, like blankets, were laid invisible the daydreams of those who saw them, including two long-dead boys, whose dreams were woven from the fresh and unaccounted-for possibilities of Hob kissing his mysterious stranger. Another man, thought Edwin. His best friend, thought Charles. Dream was the only one who could have heeded this, but he did not, because Hob Gadling was holding him tight and daydreaming loudly of this kiss and more, of this today and tonight and tomorrow, ever greedy and ever easily pleased, and Dream could hear nothing at all over their clamouring and comingled joy; the bright gold daydream between the scant space of their bodies that sounded so much like at last.

[hellcifrogs]

On one hand Inoshika would hate the comparisson. On the other I have nothing to say in my defense.

And the thing is - I did have other options to pick from!

[fluffshi-wxffle]

CRK Ship/Fusion Chart (Beast and Ancient Edition)

I guess this can be used as a bit of a design challenge for those who just want to make a ton of designs.

With the fankid aspect, if the chart has the same cookie be matched with themselves, create a child with one parent. Ex: Hollyberry with Royalberry, Dark Cacao with Dark Choco, etc. etc.

If its just a fusion thing, you can fuse the corrupted Beasts with their Virtue selves or just cross out the square.

With the Beast and Ancient chart, it could be used as either fusion or fankid

Your choice squares can be other canon cookies or your OCs.

Only rule with this is don't be weird with it, like making incest, pedophilic, etc. shipping with it.

@ me if used!

[cloud-ya]

not only am I not done with my weird hedgehogs bullshit but I'm also bringing you another monster hedgehog

[cangrellesteponme]

i don't think wonderland is ready for those alices

[doctordoombignaturals]

recently been infatuated with these two (ft. buster)