#morp au

[lintlesunflowerart]

Since I’ve gotten to go on 1st shift I’ve had a ton more energy! Let’s hope I can channel that into actually making art instead of bedrotting hhhh

Burlesque morp from a v indulgent beloved au

[musicallygt]

It’s probably obvious by now that this post I made some time ago was always about these two lol

[insaneclod]

Yayy some of newest arts from Dried Flower AU

[renrefuge]

Mouse man being deperessed - design by @tinukie !

[goblinbugthing]

mirror gala got them some sillay shirt for their anniversary

they love it

[skypied]

It’s Sunday morning and you’re pretending you aren’t awake, pretending you don’t know Alberto isn’t asleep.

It’s getting more impossible with each sleepover, because his breath is never as slow and easy as it is when he’s tucked into your chest, because his fingers are shyly tracing the lines in your palm, because it’s clear as day but evaporates in the light. 

You want to say so much. You want to tell him everything. You want to tell him things you don’t have the words for. You want to show him, feel him, see him; you want him to show you, feel you, see you. You want the animal you sense deep in his eyes, the one he’s holding underwater, hoping to one day drown it by his own hand so he won’t take yours.

Saying anything at all would ruin everything.

So you don’t.

You say nothing and try to absorb and remember all the rightness; the indescribable sky-soaring feeling of closeness, the grounding safety of his gravity, the sunflower unfolding in your heart.

It’s Sunday morning and until your mother knocks on the door and Alberto slams against the wall to get away from you quick enough you can pretend you don’t know; pretend he doesn’t know; pretend you aren’t pretending; pretend that it might ever be enough.

[rainbowcatz123]

I like to imagine a world where the Pj Masks are real, and know about the fandom. Like, obviously they wouldn’t like the bad stuff, but image if they know about something like @elmushterri ‘s GunnTech AU, or my Stinkfestation AU, or any other piece of fanmade content? What if they saw some of the GunnTech characters with their dogs out and decided to cut holes in their socks? What if they crocheted little meep-morp’s (that’s what the Stinkfestation mushrooms are called btw)? What if they scroll through @pj-trashh ‘s blog for hours and laugh hysterically at all the memes? What if they watch edits? What if they write fanfic?

[cockatrice-writers-guild]

Wolf In Sheep's Clothing

this takes place in a kinda modern au that exists just for this story

warnings: swearing, blood, violence, injury

taglist: @awkwardgtace , @smolcomfycat , @just-a-tiny-bun , @tripodcat-gt

The stage is set.

You are a crow, a vaguely humanoid little bird destined for nothing and then even less.

Your name is Kopec.

You’re a bastard child, an unwanted hybrid, a thief

And today you want nothing more than a small rock, about the size of a fist, it’s value in the millions. And so that’s where you find yourself now, perched on the edge of the gem in question, though it’s a little bigger than you first thought it would be. A giant’s rock for a giant’s fist for a giant’s museum. It’s taller than you are.

You really didn’t think this through, did you?

Now the spotlight hanging over the rock bathes your pitch black feathers and the glass walls of the stone’s display case in its blinding light, casting the rest of the room in shadow. An equally massive guard lays sprawled out just outside the glass, having just met the business end of your entire stash of paralyzers shortly after he stuck his hand into the hole you cut in the glass trying to catch you. He’s still completely conscious, taken to glaring up at you and growling angrily since he’s long since lost the use of his jaw. You probably don’t want to be here when it wears off.

With all the supplies you spent trying to get here, or should I say, all the supplies you wasted trying to subdue a single guard, you realize you honestly have no other choice but to find a way to take the rock by any means necessary. You glance around, looking for anything you can use to move the rock and fail multiple times to notice the security cameras pointed directly at you, recording every single movement you’ve made since you entered the building. Even that time you were so focused on trying to outrun the literal giant chasing you that you forgot to look where you were going and ended up slamming your beak into the hard stone, leaving a dent in both it and you.

Today’s just not really your day, is it?

After mulling it over for an amount of time that can only be described as the time needed for a hoard of other guards to block all the exits of, say, a small room, you decide the smart decision is to pull out a small dagger and push the blade into the beak shaped groove that…just so happened to be there when you got there. If you couldn’t take the whole gem then just a piece would have to do. You don’t doubt that you can still make off with a small fortune once you get out of here and sell it off.

That is, if you can find a buyer, if you can convince said buyer that the tiny shard you’re trying to sell off is even a part of the legendary gem and even then, if that buyer will even talk to you in the first place.

Your teeth are terrifying, Kopec. As is your mishappen beak. And your oozing left eye. And your feather covered but still human hands. And the way you-

“I GET IT!”

You huff before you return to trying to wiggle more of the blade into the dent as slowly a few guards start creeping into the room, one in particular taking the lead. You don’t notice the slight tremors that pass through the ground as you try to twist the blade. You don’t notice the frustrated grunts of the guard you paralyzed falling to silence as he sees that help has finally arrived. You don’t even notice the flash of red as a single guard steps up to the display case and leans down to see you better.

You loudly utter curses as the blade barely budges and then an even louder one when hands larger than your whole being slam down on either side of the glass box. And once you spin around, your fear quickly morps into deep annoyance at the massive face in front of you.

“Kopec!” The voice sing songs, the volume of it enough to vibrate the glass.

“…Andreyus,” you say back, considerably less enthused and slowly moving to hide the dagger behind your back. Andreyus watches the attempt almost gleefully, her one red iris tracking the moment before she continues. You try for an innocent smile and then frown as the sight alone causes several of the other guards to recoil. “What are you doing here?”

“Patrolling as always,” Andreyus answers nonchalantly. “You?”

“…nothing. I was just…seeing myself out.”

You try moving towards the exit only for said exit to quickly be blocked by the giant redhead’s palm.

“Were you now?” Andreyus purrs and you grimace, taking the time to think over your options before you casually walk up to the hand, lean forward and violently bite down on as much skin as you can.

Andreyus reacts to this immediately, pulling her hand and the crow still attached to it away from the glass box before the velocity proves too much for you and you finally let go, flying to the ground with an audible thud.

Your head hurts, your back hurts, the air swims before your eyes, there’s a faint metallic taste in your mouth and you’re pretty sure it belongs to Andreyus.

…déjà vu.

“Oh, you little-” Andreyus cuts off her growl when she notices the looks of her fellow guards, quickly masking the anger with a too wide smile.

“Kopec.” Her tone is sickly sweet.

Flat on your back and still trying to breathe after having the wind knocked out of you, you can’t do much at the moment but wheeze pathetically.

Slowly, Andreyus crouches down, looming over you as the display case lighting casts her face in heavy shadow.

“It’s always my museum, isn’t it Kopec? You like the new cameras? We finally got the money to install them. In Every. Single. Room.”

Andreyus reaches out and grabs you in a loose fist, bringing you to eye level as she smiles. The movement makes you nauseous. Turned away, the other guards can’t see the pure disdain in her eye as she starts tightening her grip on you.

You can’t breathe.

Your arms are pinned.

She stops just short of breaking your ribs, instead letting dull waves of pain pass over you as your body struggles to make your lungs expand again against the unmoving weight around you.

She cocks her head to the side slightly, a small smile lighting her features as she watches you struggle for a moment.

There’s no escape from this.

You’re done.

Except…you aren’t really yet, are you?

Wake up, Kopec.

Open Your Eyes

[helljunker]

art dump lessgooooo

ive been drawing! just been preoccupied with stuff 😳🫥

first up we got a lineup starting because i got tired of figuring out heught differences for my portal au. jay's lines are done, made some progress on craig/fact. i have to make human designs for wheatley, space and adventure core. i swear theyre all relevant. LOL

second up we have hecate! an avatar with hands in three fears: flesh, spiral and stranger. her deal is morphing into familiar people to her target, with things slightly off to hint she isn't the right person. her in between morping is like. really gross lol. bones and viscera and the like. you know how it is

lastly some mirata angst and sillays <3 why does she have a nose.

[lurkingrabbit]

Here are 2 OCs of mine

Morp/ Dream / Morpheus and Lucid

This has like 3 universes +ect combined

Morp is a FNAF security guard from an AU inspired by the series: The Smiling child AU on ao3. In this setting Morp applies for a job at the plex and gets it.

Later down the line the admin is tracked by Foolish, his brother from his adoptive family.

Foolish attempts to bring Morp back the Dreamsmp, under Quackitys orders, knowing some of the details of what has and is to happen

(basically the retired god of bloodshed and fight and battle dosnt care that Quackity tortured his adoptive bro cuz business is business - he’s a bit apathetic towards Dream and some others)

Morp eventually escapes but with his derailing mental state, especially after Pandora, the species shift and the recent accumulation of a malware bug, things go badly

Within the breakdown lucid comes about promising to make everything better if Morp relishes control

Morp let’s Lucid take control and sleeps, however Lucid is malicious, having connected to half of Morps memory and needed an excuse for violence.

When Foolish tries to stop Lucid, the Dreamon runs off, with Morp awaking and taking control.

The players of the smp run into the confrontation between the two only just in time to see two dreams, one looking deamon-like wisked away

(Morp species crossing came with hybrid features so he looks deamonic now lol)

Annoyed, Morp puts Lucid in his place but offers a chance to become his own person, manufacturing a backstory that Morp, the one responsible for all the trouble and the true Dream was the Dreamon, and Lucid was the actual Dream, innocent.

This mainly comes about as he Dreamon had grown it malware phase into full functional sentience and sapients.

With this new opportunity, Lucid reintegrates with the players, playing along to the backstory and making bonds. Here is where he gets his new name: Lucid, as before he was nameless.

Morp just goes back to his job we’re he let’s the others know what happened and just gets back to everyday life.

[void-ink-studios]

Incarnations AU - Backstory

I think I’ve settled on the name Incarnations AU and will be tagging all art/fanfic as such from now on.  This is a Kirby gijinka AU, where I’ve taken the strange cannon lore, turned it into wet clay, and played with it on my stupid little pottery wheel.

You can check out the oneshots I write for this AU over HERE on AO3, but today, I’d like to try and rewrite the first chapter as an actual story.  When I first wrote it, it was pure stream of consciousness and trying to get thoughts on paper.  So, here’s my author redemption arc.  Enjoy!

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

Within the land of Dreams, within that strange cosmic fog that lies beyond our own awareness, there lived a civilization split in two.  With minds and magic beyond all, these twin societies dominate, endlessly circling each other, endlessly building off each other.

In brilliant White and Gold, there were the Magi, musicians of reality, plucking the strings of magic, altering their world with their soundless songs.  In gorgeous Black and Silver were the Physicus, who toiled and tinkered with their minds and hands, forcing reality to their will.  Together, the two forged great artifacts of wonder, ones to better explore and expand over the cosmic fog in the land of Dreams.

The Physicus clicked together the gears of Clockwork Stars, while the Magi imbued them with the power of Dreams to grant wishes.  The Physicus crafted great ships known as the Starcutter Fleet, and the Magi put the wind of the stars into the sails.

The Magi, meanwhile, created a brilliant silver to see into other worlds, so the Psysicus refined and contained it to a great Mirror where they could see and journey forth.  The Magi captured the power of a Wishing Star’s nebula, and the Psysicus channeled it into a staff more powerful than much of their artillery.

At the center of all, the center of these two civilizations known now as the Ancients, there was Void.  Void, that great creator, from which the chaos of Dreams is given form.  Void, once dormant, now gazed out into the cosmos, within their gilded cage at the center of a galactic power.  Without Void, the Magi would have no great strings to pluck, and the Psysicus would have no Star metals to forge.  There would be no Ancients without Void.  But what would Void be without them?  It mattered not to Void.  What worth would it have to crush the ants that built their mound around them?

It is lost history, in how it happened.  Perhaps the Physicus experimented into forces that should’ve remained lost in shadow.  Perhaps the Magi plucked at the perfectly incorrect string.  Perhaps it was fate, or pure cosmic accident.

Regardless of the how, the what has left its scars across the land of Dreams.  For, one day, Void trembled.  It shuddered and cried and agonized.  And then it purged.  It purged, and then one became two.

A being of brilliant orange and gold and black spilled from Void that day, standing on trembling legs and wet wings.  It was thus that the first Incarnation was born.  It was the Butterfly of Paradise.  It was the silent watcher and end to all.  It was the Incarnation of Judgement.

It was Morpho Knight.

Morpho Knight had vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, but it had taken something important with it.  For now that one had become two, the one left behind was missing something.  Void had become a being without Judgement.  A creature without reservations.  A creature with no concern for the ants that stared in confusion and horror.

It was only through the combined effort of all Star Allies, and the creation of new and terrible weapons that the Ancients could face the beast now known as Void Termina.  The Star Sparkler, the Crystal Cannon, the Rainbow Sword, and the Love-Love Stick were all forged in the fires of desperation, while the Starcutter fleet fell one by one.

It was the creation of the Jamba Heart from the Magi and the Jamba Needles of the Psysicus that the monster was subdued.  Void could not be destroyed, not by mere mortals.  It would be foolish to hunt for Morpho Knight, even more so to think it could be forced to fight.

So, Void exchanged a gilded cage for a darkened cell.

And the Magi and Psysicus were reminded of just how mortal they were.

The two civilizations watched each other, as they tried to rebuild.  They watched the weakened states they were all in, with their core locked in a box with no key.  They watched as they realized that the other was defenseless.  It was only a matter of who would strike first.

It was the Psysicus, paranoid of magic, and emboldened by their weapons of science.  They would not need the Magi anymore, they had decided.  What if their magic strings caused yet another disaster?  What if they found a way to outdo their glorious machines?  The Magi, they decided, would be driven out, and they’d take that ticking apocalypse with them.  They split their great planet in two, and rocketed away the undesirables to the darkest, deepest corners of space, with only enough fuel to get them there.

The Magi found themselves surrounded by darkness.  There were no strings to pluck here.  There were no Wishing Stars to harness, no starlight to sail on, not even pinpricks of distant stars of old allies.  It was just them, and the darkness crushing them from above.

The bitterness took hold quickly.  A few managed to scrape together remaining Starcutters to find some escape, but most had decided to spit on the stars.  They turned inward, to a darkness that yet gave off light.  They began to worship what was once their doom.

And thus began the Cult of Void.

This worship, this saturation of hatred and despair, it woke something within what remained of Void.  And it trembled again.  As one pin was wrenched free, a deafening scream wailed throughout the darkest corners of the Land of Dreams.  Something was unleashed that day.  It was the darkness itself, a consumer of light.  It was the Incarnation of Despair.

It was Dark Matter.

Dark Matter was not a who.  It was a What.  A dark cloud of hundreds of eyes swirled around the Cult of Void.  The ones who didn’t go mad described the cry of millions of tears.  It was the deepest of melancholies.  As did its older kin, it fled quickly into the abyss.  But not before one lone Ancient was able to trap a piece into a once unremarkable crown.  This Ancient, who’s name is lost to time, placed the crown upon their head, and declared themselves a king.

The Ancients were never heard from again, after that day.  The Psysicus, so paranoid and proud, vanished in a blink.  Their great planet and cities were swallowed, seemingly by the darkness itself.  The refugees of the Magi drifted away, to fates unknown.  No one came back for the Cult of Void.  No one peered too closely into the Darkness as they continued their worship.

As they pulled on pins, twin Incarnations were purged from Void.  One was Dreams.  One was Fear.  The Incarnation of Dreams warped away as quickly as it arrived to pierce the veil of Dreams.  The Incarnation of Fear found itself a feast of screams.

It was eons before the Cult recovered enough to attempt again.  It was smaller than the others before it, and for a moment, the Cult had wondered if Void had weakened.  Then it spread brilliant feathery wings and attempted to carve its way to freedom.  The Incarnation of Ambition was bound in glittery gilded chains, and a dog was made of it.  It became a weapon, turned on whatever planets the Cult had wandered too close to.

Glittering horns grew longer, as did its resentment.  It turned on its captors the second they got lazy with their new toy.  It was only through their long ancient magics that they were not all wiped out, as the Incarnation was trapped in crystal only their kind could open.

Meanwhile, the Incarnation of Dreams had found itself trapped as well.  Its careless warping was bound to have its consequences eventually.  Warping had made the planet it had found unstable, patches becoming incompatible to life.  One couldn’t really blame the locals for trying to keep it contained.  They studied it, wondered, got curious.  And it was that curiosity that opened the door.

The Great Warp Event, a catastrophe and a blessing all at once.  The humans of the Forgotten Land were warped, in location, body, and mind, to a new home, a small nowhere planet called Popstar.  In a planet not known to them, in minds and bodies not known to them, a new civilization began to rise.  However, that warp was not without consequences.  Many of the animals were left behind, and the Incarnation was cleaved in two.  ID-F86 went dormant and ID-F87 fled into the newly abandoned world.

One more pin was pulled before the Cult of Void finally fell.  And from that pin fell the last of the Voidborn.  A small, nervous Incarnation, despite the fact he was meant to be the Incarnation of Bravery.  He bolted off, and there was no one left to stop him.  Only one of the Cult of Void still stood, but it is out of spite he continues to stand.

The remnants of the Ancients drifted through the cosmos.  The Master Crown fell into the hoard of the Great Dragon Landia.  The last of the Starcutters was discovered by a small alien, perhaps an Ancient descendent, named Magalor.

But the energy of the Great Warp Event rippled through the universe and back.  Many of the artifacts became drawn to it, the Dimension Mirror, the Star Rod, the Love-Love Stick, the Rainbow Sword, and several scraps of ships lost wedged themselves in the mountains, forests, and plains of Popstar.  The smallest of the Incarnations found his way here, his way home.

It was not the only one.  But Popstar had a defender now.  A dark mage from the heart of the dark hive was locked in a chest.  The devourer of Fear, once the nightmare of Bravery, now sits bound in a staff atop the Dream Fountain.

The energy of Void saturated everything around the tiny planet.  It swam, oozing from the Great Warp Event’s residual energy, from the artifacts that pulled energy from Void itself, from the Incarnations, there willingly or otherwise.  And there was Joy.  Joy from the people of Popstar, more powerful than the hate of the Magi.

And from that joy, a new Incarnation laughed.

And from the darkness, hundreds of eyes search for them.

[nerdsquadfilmsofficial]

Meep morp explanation on my AU!

“Okay, let’s do this one last time.”

So Norman Osborn has two kids, Harry and Nora (based on Norma from Ultimate Spider-Man)

Norman dies while fighting Spider-Man (but it was actually mysterio that killed him) and now Nora is mad so she’s out for revenge. She claims that no one really gets her and the kids at school only like her because she’s rich and she becomes the new Goblin (but as an Angsty teen lol)

She ends up in jail or something for trying to kill Spider-Man. (Spider-Man is Miles Morales in this universe btw)

Harry tired to stray nora from the path of evil, and it kinda works. Turns out Nora has Dissociative Identity disorder as a way of coping with losing her dad.

Harry, now being the new CEO of Oscorp, teams up with Hydra and Shield to start the Dark Avengers. Eventually, Doc Ock, Red Skull, Loki, Venom, Wolverine, and Deadpool join.

Now Nora’s like “hey these guys are like a second family to me! Except red skull coz he’s mean for no reason-“

I’ll make a part two tomorrow.

[musicallygt]

i read what there is so far of The Dimensions of a Single Room by MalkyTop and became obsessed im so happy to see another borrower!reigen au sdkfjlksdjfklsdflkjsdfkjl two cakes!!

plus other doodles of that borrower!reigen meeting my borrower!reigen because why not lol

[insaneclod]

Some old arts based on my au fanfiction "Dried Flower". Its about Peridot being in depression after Steven's leaving, and her unusual way to fight with it, by making a Meep-Morph looking like Steven. As the time spends this idea become wild and Meep-Morph is going out of control, living it's own live.

[ladylazuli97]

Fugo es enojón desde bebé jsjs

[morp-arts]

Hollow Fables Illuminance AU idea: Can you draw the Illuminance/Mothiva transforming into her very-powerful true form, (like the same body type as her mother, The Radiance but she retains her antennae and colours) clearing away the infection from Hallownest and Bugaria (including all the deformities are removed from many bugs and best of all they are brought back to life especially Myla) before ascending to godhood? But she leaves everything behind, which brought Zasp into tears but not only that, she gets to see The Seer again after all those years.

"It's good to see you again Young Light."

(Please send these asks of this au to this >blog<)