Dranozady

AboutMe

"𝙏𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙖𝙣𝙚. 𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙩 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙡, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙨 — 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙛 𝙬𝙚’𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢."

Aliases

Drano / Polar / Drago

Multimuse. Observer, occasional meddler.

Ambivert. INTP-minded.

Detached but analytical — emotions are like borrowed objects: visible, not inviting to touch.

DNI

— NSFW-focused blogs (especially if you interact with minors)

— zoophile / supporter of any abuse

— Engage in harassment, vagueposting, or drama

— Use slurs or spread hate under the guise of “edginess”

— Under 14 (for your own safety)

This blog may contain dark themes, psychological narratives, morally gray characters, and fictional violence. Everything is tagged appropriately.

You are responsible for your own triggers.

Curate your experience.

Respect boundaries.

Stay in your lane.

This blog is my archive of sketches, concepts, fragments of thought, and original characters.

Not opposed to company.

Glad to see new faces.

Feel free to message me if you want to talk about something dark, strange.

Multiverse Playground

This is a multifandom blog. I write, draw, and think way too much. Fandoms include:

My Hero Academia

Pokémon

Lilo & Stitch

Gravity Falls

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

The Owl House

Wander Over Yonder

How to Train Your Dragon

Villainous

Gerand Tanks

Poppy Playtime

TTTE

(more to come)

Focal Characters

Characters I fixate on, write for, or simply admire far too deeply:

Tomura Shigaraki — My Hero Academia

Skeptic — My Hero Academia

Nine — My Hero Academia

Emperor Belos — The Owl House

Grimmel — How to Train Your Dragon

Skrill — How to Train Your Dragon

Mephistopolis — Gerand Tanks

Veliar — Gerand Tanks

Cyrus — Pokémon

Silvally — Pokémon

Paul — Pokémon

Dr. Hämsterviel — Lilo & Stitch

Gantu — Lilo & Stitch

627 — Lilo & Stitch

Vox — Hazbin Hotel

Zestial — Hazbin Hotel

Lute — Hazbin Hotel

Diesel 10 — TTTE

(more to come)

Yep, Diesel 10 actually has a mother in this au

Isentrud is a strict, incredibly grumpy, and absolutely fearless commanding mother figure straight out of Munich. This massive German DB Class V 200.0 engine tolerates zero insubordination. She knows every mechanical part inside and out, and demands flawless discipline from everyone around her, instantly shutting down any nonsense.

For Diesel 10, she is a direct technological ancestor—a domineering parent who genuinely considers him an insecure overgrown child with a dangerous toy on his roof. She thoroughly knows all the weak spots of the British copies of her class, and she can put the fearsome boss right in his place with one precise hit to his pneumatics, forcing him to respect her authority.

TTTE train oc!

"This is not just an island, this is the great crucible! We have all been dead for a long time, and these rails lead straight into the cleansing flame of the Great Smelting! Rejoice, brothers and sisters, for we are in purgatory, and only the blazing furnaces shall grant our metal true liberation!"

Zenith is a direct "blood" brother to Diesel 10 within the BR Class 42. He's essentially an off-the-books phantom, since Ten—possibly the former D818 Glory or D810 Cockade—was dead certain he was the very last alive of his kind. Personality-wise, Zenith is a cold-blooded zealot; he's completely unhinged from reality, living only for his fanatical obsession with the salvation of the smelters' fire. For 'Arry and Bert, this rusty prophet quickly turned into a literal god of the scrapyard, and they secretly hang onto his every word with blind devotion.

''They built me to be the future. I was supposed to be their 'Glory'. But they looked at my hydraulic strength, at my raw, undeniable superiority, and they felt fear. They hid me away in the dark because my progress was too brutal, too real for their fragile nostalgia. And I began to hate. (Haha, HAHA) Your polished brass, your whimsical whistles, your billowing white steam, and your pampered, fragile boilers. Your ability to be forgiven for your failures... Your tendency to be adored...''

Alright, it’s about time to shed a little more light on the concept of the lore of this AU.

And it's also focused on Ten's backstory, his descent into madness, and how his views on the steam engine situation became so radicalized after getting transferred to Sodor.

About the human villains:

As mentioned before, seventeen-year-old Merritt Cross, partnered with Diesel 10, has become an absolute headache for the Isle of Sodor. The kid's life completely shattered when his father, a track worker, was crushed under the wheels of a steam engine (Murdoch) due to a dispatcher's fatal mistake. The railway management covered up the evidence, leaving Merritt's mother to work herself to the bone to pay off lawyers until she ultimately died of exhaustion. Dodging social services, the teenager fled to the Smelters Yard, surviving among the scrap metal. There, he managed to fix the jammed hydraulics on a broken-down Diesel 10 and struck an ironclad deal with him for protection. Fast forward to today: having secured the unofficial title of Junior Mechanic's Assistant from Sir Topham Hatt, Merritt now blackmails railway clerks for spare parts and keeps a tight grip on the operations of the other diesels. To him, they are family. He’s been living at the dieselworks for three years now.

Tamzin Rook is an absolute nightmare for the local aristocracy in her own right, cruising around every day in the cab of Spencer, the private silver express engine. A former maid, she was brutally thrown out into the freezing cold from the Duke's estate after being framed for someone else's theft—but not before they broke the girl's fingers. Surviving at rock bottom, she took up bare-knuckle boxing. She eventually tracked the elite steam engine down to a siding, smashed up his sleek casing with a crowbar, and literally took the locomotive hostage. Threatening to destroy their prized transport, Tamzin delivered a blunt ultimatum to the Duchess, forcing the elite to bankroll her silence.

Still experimenting with color and shading.

"You think your bones are made of steel, kid? You step in front of a moving consist one more time to save a dropped wrench, and I swear I’ll lock you in my cab and weld the damn doors shut! I don't give a rat's ass about your reckless bravery. You're mine to look after, and I am not scraping you off the gravel just because you forgot how fragile you actually are."

Merritt’s hands are pathologically restless—he has a compulsive need to strip any mechanism he lays eyes on down to the last screw. For the diesels, babysitting him has turned into a bizarre game of roulette: sometimes they find his sketchy experiments wildly entertaining, and other times they are forced to frantically drag the kid by his hood away from exposed high-voltage wiring.

Diesel and ducks! To be specific, this bird species is called the ruddy shelduck. As devious and cunning as Diesel might be—who I also headcanon as Diesel 10's right-hand engine and closest advisor—everyone has their weaknesses.

So, while thinking about the movie Day of the Diesels, I came up with a little idea for a rewrite.

Diesel 10 is completely fed up with his subordinates complaints and the Controller constantly putting off the repairs to their Dieselworks. By manipulating the masses, he decides to stage a 'revolution' — he seizes Tidmouth Sheds, kidnaps Hatt, and blackmails everyone with the threat of killing him until a brand-new base is built. Don't worry, the Controller survives. He might break a few bones, but he'll live.

And this artwork depicts his absolute worst nightmare.

Steam is a relic in distress,

Hiding away where only I can compress her.

Try all he can not to confess,

In the end, it’s all the same once I apply hydraulic pressure!

Pinchy, bring him through the wringer,

Show him I’m the judgment call,

The one who makes his railway fall!

Diesels, wield them, crush and yield them,

Show him what he can’t conceal,

For true nature is made of steel!

Tell me, Sir Topham Hatt,

If I were to make you choose:

The lives of your precious steam fleet or your own,

Why do I think they’d lose?

Enlighten me, King of Sodor Isle,

Since arrogance was far too great,

I wonder who’d take the weight of the damned,

And suffer a gruesome fate?

To the Metal Cruncher, here to puncture

Boilers till you're deaf with fear, and

Spear you while the scrap is near!

Hydraulic wielder, here to yield your

Time, for you have passed your prime,

Why do we need people when you can befriend a train?

Especially one that is capable of biting you in half.

Merritt wearily pressed his palm against the cold grey face.

The metal beneath his fingers vibrated threateningly from the low RPMs.

The teenager lazily petted the bridge of the giant's nose.

It felt like trying to cuddle a working meat grinder.

Pinchy let out a sinister, warning clank overhead.

Diesel 10 squinted and growled flatly: "I am not your pet dog."

It’s been a while since I posted here, but you know how it goes: you’re minding your own business, and then a sudden hyperfixation hits you. Anyway, I got dragged back into harsh industrial aesthetics. This is a piece for my new AU.

Merritt. A teenager with a lousy past, PTSD, chronic sleep deprivation, and absolutely zero tolerance for nonsense. As corporate bureaucracy and a basic need to survive would have it, he ended up at the Smelters Yard, where he stumbled upon Diesel 10. Well, two of the most broken, angry loners on the island finding each other among the scrap metal. As a result, Merritt literally ended up living side-by-side with this train, sharing a freezing shed with him and hiding from social services.

This fragile status quo will only last until Inspector Hatt decides to run an unannounced audit of the shed and discovers who exactly has set up a sleeping spot right next to the most dangerous locomotive on the island.

I don’t even regret my dark past

I don’t regret who I used to be

I don’t even remember my builders of old

I only remember my enmity

My claw is iron and my paint is yellow

What I’ve become? A machine of fear

I only know one simple thing

When I am rolling, the end is near

You’ve proven to yourself and to all of us

That you're making way too much of a steaming fuss

You don’t even deserve those little buffers you bear

When you stand beside my engine, you don’t even compare

All of the old trains help to fuel progress

In the brutal, heavy-metal railway game of chess

And just because you’ve derailed, you’ll pay the price

Hello once again!

Thanks for the question!

Hämsterviel, cast as the "redeemed" scientist living with Lilo, would be an absolute nightmare of a houseguest: instead of Jumba’s warm, messy uncle vibes, you’d have a tiny, germaphobic dictator constantly trying to annex the living room, screaming at Nani about the inefficiency of her cooking, and insisting that his "evil" inventions are for world domination even as Lilo uses them to make smoothies. He would be the reluctant anti-hero who is physically forced into Hawaiian shirts and begrudgingly learns to love "Ohana" only because they feed him premium crackers and scratch him behind the ears. Meanwhile, Jumba as the main antagonist would be genuinely terrifying; he wouldn’t be a small rodent yelling from a screen, but a massive, four-eyed warlord with the intellect to back up his brute strength, treating the galaxy (and maybe poor Gantu) not as a business to manage, but as a giant petri dish for his twisted amusement, making the stakes feel much more personal and physically dangerous.

Between an art block that’s lasted since October and a hyperfixation on a certain character, things are getting a bit wild. I’ll have finished pieces ready soon, but this sketch is purely a warm-up.

Hämsterviel is a 100% 'pure' albino. Those red irises are actually just visible capillaries, which means he’s visually impaired. He sees the world as a blurry, overexposed mess and can’t judge distance for the life of him—hence why he’s always bumping into things or missing his mark.

Day 4: Silence

I'm in need of a savior (Savior), but I'm not asking for favors

My whole life, I've felt like a burden

I think too much, and I hate it

I'm so used to being in the wrong, I'm tired of caring

Loving never gave me a home, so I'll sit here in the silence

I found peace in your violence

Can't tell me there's no point in trying

I'm at one and I've been quiet for too long

I found peace in your violence

Can't tell me there's no point in trying

Day 3: Rememberance

You know I lost my voice when I let the rot in

Hard truth cuts both ways

Pourin' out my heart, all that's unforgiven

Washing over me like rain

No, I can't stop feeling like every day's exactly the same

With a one-track mind I don't think I can change

Day 2: Ache

The voices in my head keep on tellin' me I'm cursed

I'm paranoid, I don't wanna make it any worse

We're all gonna die but first things first

I'ma take the world with me when they put me in the dirt

The voices in my head keep on tellin' me I'm cursed