#anyway I don’t have a name for this au

[punksarahreese]

hii cj id love to know more about the bottom right moodboard (red haired norma is everything actually)

Red haired Norma my beloved <3

TW for mention of Ava’s suicide and Cornelius being a sketchy guy, a sex offender, and literal criminal 🥴

***

So this AU would take place after the events of 5x1. Ava doesn’t die on the operating table, Connor and Latham managed to repair the damage done to her carotid and surrounding tissue, though she needed a pretty substantial patch and stent. Ava lost a lot of blood and they still didn’t know if she would have any deficits to nerve or muscle function in her neck/face.

She was transferred to the ICU but by then the truth had gotten out and so she was under 24h guard with a member of CPD there at all times. Connor was at a crossroads because obviously he couldn’t forgive her for what she did but she was so vulnerable and almost died under his scalpel hours before. She had, for all intents and purposes, killed herself in his arms and that was something he could never forget. His feelings for her and the anger he felt mixed with shame that he didn’t see anything like this coming.

No one else was ready to forgive Ava, for obvious reasons. She’s a criminal in their eyes and they were just waiting for her to wake up and be sent to the prison hospital so everyone could have some peace of mind. Ava woke up days later, completely alone aside from Kim sitting in a chair by the doorway. She couldn’t find her voice, whether it be physical or psychological, and all she could do was cry silently. To Ava this was worse than death, no one knew the truth and she was still stuck in that damn hospital.

Once she was stable and they were sure she wouldn’t code on the way there she was airlifted to a federal prison where she was in a solitary hospital cell. It took weeks for her to get the energy to stand and she did have minor nerve damage that meant the impaired side of her face didn’t quite move right. That and the still healing cut on her throat reminded her of what she had done and how she failed.

When she could talk she was interrogated for hours, labelled homicidal by everyone in the hospital for what seemed like obvious reasons. Yet after over an hour of questioning she broke, tearfully explaining what happened to lead up to this.

She explains that Cornelius Rhodes had been involved in some FBI level fraud and corruption. She had found out by accident when she was in his office asking for money, he had left her alone for a while when an issue came up in the store and she happened to catch some emails pulled up on his computer. He caught her though, and Cornelius was quick to threaten her into silence.

It got worse as time went on. After a while he had collected information that might impact her career, such as her borderline personality disorder diagnosis and some violence charges in her youth that had been buried. He claimed that if Ava didn’t do as he said he would not only ruin her reputation as a doctor but target her family as well. He would force her to be a middle man in his illegal activity, making her do hand offs for money laundering and keeping her on a short leash when she was allowed out of his sight. The reason Ava didn’t have any friends in Chicago was not avoidance, rather it was Connor’s own father forcing her into solitude to cover his own ass.

He forced himself on Ava too, threatening to lie to Connor about them being together if she didn’t do as he wanted. Even more, Cornelius threatened his own son’s life to keep Ava under his control. He saw how attached she was to Connor and had no qualms about abusing that knowledge. None of their “relationship” was consensual, contrary to rumours that spread after the gala.

The final straw had been whispers of Cornelius running underground trafficking dens. He was flaunting Ava to his associates, pushing her into meetings and making suggestive remarks, bringing her to hidden locations full of girls. He was taunting her, threatening to sell her body instead of keeping her for himself. It was more terrifying than any of his previous threats and it caused her to fall into a BPD split so severe all she could do was lash out. That’s why she gave him the insulin and that’s why she tried to end her own life; she felt trapped and abused and had no escape.

A thorough investigation of Cornelius and his associates confirmed Ava’s statement. Her first degree charges were dropped and instead changed to a manslaughter charge, though no one outside was informed due to the circumstances. She underwent over a year of psychiatric rehabilitation in prison and sought out every type of reform she could. Threats on her life kept coming as more of Cornelius’ associates realized she had been the one to rat them out. It got to the point where the FBI agreed she could not be released for her own safety.

As her parole date approached she was prepared to be released into witness protection. She was to assume a new identity and everyone was informed that Ava Bekker had died in federal prison at 16:22. A lot of people at med were actually pleased to hear that news, still under the impression that Ava had been a cold blooded killer as the information about Cornelius’ crimes were on a need to know basis due to their sensitivity.

Ava dyed her hair and changed the way she dressed and acted. She changed her name and even her family believed she was dead. She could no longer practice medicine for the time being and was moved to Texas under WITSEC supervision. Her face and neck were permanently scarred from the damage she did that day and her psyche was no better. It felt impossible to rebuild her life when she felt that no one in the entire world knew or cared that Ava Bekker was still alive.

So this AU is about Ava being moved under witness protection and changed her identity to keep her safe from Cornelius’ posthumous wrath :)

[m1d-45]

You know, I've been thinking. The stars in our world often look quite dim, especially in areas where there is light pollution. Suddenly, I'm imagining that in the Imposter!AU, the Creator looks at the stars at night, captivated by their brilliance. Perhaps Scaramouche or Mona (Whichever you prefer, you may also just write another character you think fits this scenario :D) find them. The Creator looks at them, then back at the stars.

"They're very lovely, you know? The stars never shine this brightly back home. It's a lovely sight..."

They smile. "I'm happy that I'm able to see them, even if it's in another world. I appreciate you letting me look at them before I die."

Perhaps the character takes pause... And sits next to them.

It's a lovely night.

in the stars

word count: ~1k

-> warnings: violence, blood, both of those in your future so technically you’re not hurt yet, not written for mona mains, sorry, didn’t work with the plot :/ also diona/klee/qiqi/nahida/sayu mains are on thin ice with this one. questionable plot. barely edited.

-> lowercase intended

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie

< masterlist >

the stars never lie.

mona clutches her catalyst to her chest, wide eyes turned to the sky. she whispers to them, hoping they’ll change, shift into something she’ll understand, anything.

they don’t.

her head lowers, inspecting the book. thrilling tales, the spine reads, the cover a simplified dragon with a sword through it. she tries to read into it, to try and pick apart the motives behind the weapon, but all it returns is a simple needlepoint.

a compass. one she’d followed ever since she caved into the pull on her catalyst, one she’d followed out of the city at dusk and into the plains, hiking up starsnatch cliff at its behest. her twin tails had lost some of their curl on the journey, her hat flopping sadly. it was late, later than she’d normally be awake, and she stumbled once on a rock before quickly catching herself, checking to make sure you hadn’t moved.

you, sat at the peak of the cliff. you, surrounded by cecelias, face turned to the stars. you, who turned at her short cry.

“are you alright?”

she couldn’t bring her hands to shift her catalyst into its attack position. her hands, free from their usual gloves, dug into the cover of the book, shaking both with the chill of night and with… she couldn’t tell, couldn’t pin whether it was fear or nervousness, or something else that blurred the line between panic and excitement.

“just fine, thank you.”

her voice was harsher than it should have been. she could tell you were being genuine, the way the water in the air shaped around you like it wanted to cling made that clear enough, the stars shining down on you as if you were the only being on the planet.

the stars never lie. so why were they saying you meant no harm?

you turned back to the stars, your hands shifting back to weave into the grass between the cecelias.

"they’re very lovely tonight. the stars, i mean. they never shine this brightly back home….” against her better judgement, mona glanced up. the sky was particularly clear, constellations shining down unhindered. “it’s a beautiful sight.”

orders from the knights echoed in mona’s head, orders extended from a god she’d never met. she knew the knights wholeheartedly meant what they said, truly believing the words they were told, but you…

hesitantly, she brought her hand in a circle in front of her, scrying for your constellation. you didn’t have one, unsurprisingly, and she relaxed slightly in the knowledge that you didn’t have a vision.. still, there was something strange about the empty space where yours would have been. swapping the sigils and rotating the outer edge, mona decided to read your future.

all the air was sucked from her lungs, the images depicted in the water making her mouth dry. the water warped and bubbled a dark color, as if it itself hated to show what it did.

you were on your knees, tight steel chains wrapped around you and latched onto hooks in whatever you were sitting on. in front of you stood the favored, the creator’s most prized, their weapon drawn. their form was taught with anger, nearly seething. it was strange, so uncharacteristic that it froze the astrologist in place for a moment.

no matter how fiery the disposition, vessels of yours were calmer after being wished upon, heart stiller for being by your side. they, the most prominent on your team of them all, should be at most handling such a severe situation with a tick in their jaw and quiet fury in their eyes, not…

she watched with sick horror as the favored attacks once, your chest caving once, twice with hitched attempts at breathing before you slumped over, blood trickling from your neck. the favored stepped back, weapon dismissed, and mona closed the illusion before it played any further. she hadn’t meant to look all the way to your death, only a few-

…only a few hours.

her hands shake where they’re still clasped in front of her, the remains of her scrying circle swirling in her palms. you didn’t even have a day.

she let the water fall, sending it towards the cecelias around you, willing them to stand brighter as she approached. she couldn’t bring herself to summon her catalyst, not now that she knew what your fate held.

the grass was damp beneath her, seeping slightly into her nightclothes. you didn’t say anything, simply passing her a flower that you had been twirling in your palms. she willed it to heal, restored the color to its petals and the strength to its stem, then passed it back. she had no use for it, not when you…

you chuckled as you took it, staring down at it for a moment before turning skyward once more. mona followed your eyes up, spotting a well known constellation directly above you. nearly perfectly straight up, glowing like a beacon, was the constellation of the favored, six stars making themselves prominent against the dotted sea of night.

“beautiful, isn’t it?”

she swallowed, eyes flicking down to you. you were still watching the stars, probably tracing the shape of the constellation above you. unknowing of what it spelled for your fate, unknowing of the warning written above you.

mona settled into the grass a little more, taking her hat off her head so it wouldn’t fall when she looked up again.

“indeed, it is.”

[nymphacae]

opposing reactions

[quinn-pop]

yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific

(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)

anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid

also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)

i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.

the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.

they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)

kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs

everyone else is okay tho

(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)

mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.

anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^

[miahasahardname]

snack shopping :3

bonus doodle:

don’t binge on sweets, kids!

[the-last-quest]

I’m sure everything is going to turn out fine :))

[gracebethartacc]

been brainstorming other stars specifically asters technically guardians/the wishing ground keepers? Liked the idea they were based on zodiacs and then my friend helped with coming up with ideas where their animal or theme plays into some kind of Disney movie or character 👀?

[twilighthomunculusart]

"I think the biggest thing I miss from being organic is eating, yunno?" His voice trailed off as the conversation diverted into something new.

"hold on you have a neural interface with your mech right?"

"Yea?"

"Let me see the port,” before verbal consent was given he reached for one of the cords that were meant to plug into his machine. Gently he traced the rubber to its tip and took a long analytical glance at the output end of the node. After he was satisfied he dropped it without care.

"hold on. I think I have something." And he left him outside without another word.

Curious, he followed him to his workbench. Littered with various parts, projects, and tools. Most for his mech others for body modification. It was hard to observe exactly what he was trying to do without distracting, so he decided to stay surprised. Rummaging through drawers for electrical bits and bobbles ports, wires, resistors, lightbulbs. Anything he deamed useful placed alongside the cornucopia on the bench. He sat down on one of the work stools.

After a couple of flashes of light from the solderer and heat gun, he one again turned to face him. "here we are" he drew in close, reaching for his neural connection again,"if you can synchronize with a mech then why not another person" he paused. Face slightly blushed with the implications of their blurring boundaries shattering.

He just nodded and took the hand that held the makeshift adapter, drawing it closer to it's target.

He placed his end first. A soft click and a flicker of a small led light. The other connection was a tad more robust. As it slid in the crackle of electrical feedback gave way to a slurry of information. Thoughts that weren't his, the feeling of his hands within another's, standing while simultaneously sitting, the soft lull of music being played in the back of their mind.

The thoughts fired at a different language than his but somehow he could still understand their intentions, a mixture of curiosity, excitement, embarrassment, distraction, and passion.

And his vision.

Their vision.

The double, no, quadruple input of signals lead neither one of them sure of where to focus.

It was almost overwhelming.

He could feel his heart racing.

*Wait he didn't have a heart anymore*

They simultaneously disconnected.

One stunned with heavy breathing, both with electrical fans going haywire. They stared at each other in silence. Neither certain of the implications of this act but knowing that whatever it was it changed their trajectory forever.

[cerealmonster15]

cayjay on the brain

[kingofthering]

I’ve been thinking about changing the set-up of VR46 Marc AU from the 2023 season to the 2024 season and I made a big pros & cons list that was kind of getting out of hand but it pretty much boiled down to :

Marc leaving Honda at the end of 2022 makes no sense, esp after his last arm surgery (meanwhile end of 2023 is obviously reality)

I would need to change a bunch of stuff I’ve already written and workshopped in the timeline (annoying but probably doable)

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumptober day 6- alternate prompt, reluctant whumper.

Had to do an alternate prompt. Ok so this isn’t an au that y’all are familiar with. I’ve talked about it a couple of times but I doubt anyone remembers it. This fic about my other Link oc who I called Real. Basically the main premise of his story is that the royal family found the hero of Hyrule and raised him in the castle, however the royal family is stupid and the “hero” they found is not the hero at all. They raised him to be a strong hero, they made him believe that he had the hero’s spirit, and so they created a monster. We’ll call him Fake. Real is the real hero lol. But he doesn’t really know. And Fake was so angry about this that he took Real to try to steal the Triforce of wisdom and the master sword. Real escapes and has Linebeck the 67th, who goes by Beck, to take him home. It’s this whole thing and I really wanted to write a fic for this au so I hope you enjoy even tho you don’t know the full story

Warnings for a bloody injury

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The young hero dragged himself across the island, making his way towards the docks where Beck waited. He sucked in a breath and clutched his arm. He could hide this, easily. He forced a smile when Beck saw him, and he quickly moved onto the boat, ignoring Beck’s gaze.

“Uh, good to see you too?” Beck said, and Link nodded before turning to the lower decks.

“Good to see you too Beck,” he said quickly, speed walking across the deck.

“Is something wrong?” Beck asked.

“No, no nothing is wrong,” Link said quickly.

“Then why are you acting so… weird?” Beck moved in front of Link, blocking him off from the decks.

“I-I’m not,” Link stammered, “I’m just…. Dirty… is all.”

Beck stared at him while Link moved around him, jogging to the lower decks. He almost made it to the door when Beck suddenly grabbed his arm, causing Link to hiss in pain.

“Oooooh I see,” Beck deadpanned, seeing the blood soaked sleeve, “You’re trying to hide an injury from me.”

Link ripped away from his grip, not looking at him. “I’m fine,” he grumbled.

“Good goddesses Link, what is wrong with you?” Beck snapped, blocking Link’s way. “Trying to hide an injury like that will only make things worse!”

“I don’t need your help!”

Beck rolled his eyes. “So what? You’re going to let that bleed out until you die? Is that your plan? Or are you going to let it get infected? Or are you going to let blood get all over my ship?”

“Just shut up and get out of my way!” Link yelled, trying to move past Beck, who didn’t budge.

“Link– you— ugh,” Beck’s expression softened slightly, and he gripped both of Link’s shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. “Kid, I don’t know why you try to put on this– tough guy act– but it’s not gonna work on me. Just let me help you for once.”

“I don’t need your help!” Link yelled again, breaking free from Beck’s grip. Beck let him go this time, but he slowly followed him into the deck below. Link marched over to his bed and plopped down, cradling his injured arm. He got hurt, again, because he did something stupid, again. How was he supposed to be some big and important hero if he couldn’t even keep himself from getting hurt. He was always a careless kid, and everytime he’d come home with a new bump or bruise, he’d get nothing but a scolding from his mother. He’d gotten quite good at hiding some small injuries from his mother, but he felt like he could hide nothing from Beck. He could even feel Beck’s gaze piercing his neck, and he desperately tried to ignore it as small drops of blood landed in his lap. Finally, the silence was too much for him, and he spoke up. “What do you want?”

“I’m making sure that you take care of yourself.”

“Why?”

“You said you didn’t need my help, so prove to me that you don’t need my help.”

Link glared at him while grabbing his blanket and throwing it over the wound. Beck groaned.

“Well that’s better than nothing.”

“Will you leave me alone?”

“Why are you so mad at me trying to help you?”

Link squeezed his arm and curled up on the bed, not saying anything.

“Link, look, if you want to stay on my boat I need some level of respect, ok?”

Link growled and curled up even tighter.

“Link, hey, talk to me.”

Link shot up and stared down Beck. “Why do you care so much?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you care whenever I get hurt?”

“Uh, because I don’t want you to die? Or to be in pain? Is that so bad?”

Link didn’t say anything again and curled up. Beck sighed and walked over to him.

“Link, putting a blanket over your open wound isn’t gonna do anything. Please, let me just… bandage it up.”

“No.”

“Fine, let me get you bandages so you can do it yourself!”

“No.”

“For the goddess’s sake,” Link heard Beck grumble as he got up and left the deck, leaving Link alone. Link curled up tighter and clutched his aching arm, shame making his face go hot. He blinked a few tears away from his one good eye and buried his face in his knees. He heard Beck return and bandages were thrown at him gently. He looked up at Beck who was staring at him with a softer expression. Link pursed his lips and sat up, grabbing the bandages with his good arm and taking off the bloodied blanket, looking at the mess before him. He looked up at Beck with an unsure look, and Beck tilted his head.

“Need help?”

Link sighed, too tired to argue and nodded. Beck smiled slightly and grabbed a rag with a bowl of water and sat down on the floor, looking at the injury. Link sucked in a sharp breath as the rag began cleaning the wound. After what felt like forever, Beck began wrapping up the wound with the bandages, and Link watched silently, guilt bubbling up in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

Beck looked up at him and smiled. “It’s alright, I’m sorry too, for raising my voice.”

Link hunched his shoulder and felt the tears beginning to sting his eye again. Beck finished wrapping his arm and gave it a gentle pat, before standing up to leave.

“W-wait, Beck?” Link called out, and he stopped, giving Link his full attention. “Are you…. Mad?”

“Well, not anymore, I guess I did lose my temper back there thou–”

“No, like… mad that I got myself hurt.”

Beck frowned. “No. I’m mostly upset that you don’t want to take care of yourself when you are hurt. So much so that you actually hide it from me.”

Link looked down. “Whenever I get hurt, my momma gets mad at me. It’s just easier not to tell her.”

Beck stared at him with a blank expression, and Link looked away.

“I’m not mad. We all get hurt, Link. Sometimes we can’t control it,” Beck finally said.

Link sighed and looked down at his bandaged arm. “I wish I was stronger… I wish I was a better hero…”

“Well, I don’t want to underestimate you, but you are twelve. Asking you to be a perfect and strong hero now would be like asking a baby to run around castle town in a minute. It’ll take time, kid.”

Link sighed. “Yeah…”

Beck leaned against a wall and pursed his lips. “You don’t have to hide any injuries from me, ok? In fact, I don’t want you to hide injuries from me. I won’t get mad at you if you’re hurt, ok?”

Link looked up and smiled at Beck, who smiled back before turning to the stairs.

“Now get some rest, kid,” he said, “I’ll be here if you need me.”

[the-ranting-ravens-lair]

victor frankenstein, age 10, making the worst decision of his life

[tokruta]

I’m starting to hc Miguel as Miguel Rivera (from Coco)’s great grandson.

It’s mostly because I’ve been doing my family tree for a good while now, so most of my free time is occupied with tracking down Mexican ancestors, looking for resources to better understand the different settings they lived in, reading old Spanish handwritten records, etc. So, with genealogy on the brain, and seeing some names repeated down family lines…I think having Miguel O’Hara be descended from Miguel Rivera would be a neat lil idea.

Like, imagine little Conchata growing up in Mexico with a famous musician grandfather who loves her and dotes on her and her cousins. Yes, he’s a famous musician, but he’s a family man first and is always ready to pass down stories from his life and his loved ones, dead and living. She loves her grandfather so much she decided to name her firstborn son after him.

She wasn’t always the best mom, especially to Miguel, but she passed down those stories and traditions, including singing and a love for music. And Miguel grows up loving to sing, and being good at it but keeping it to himself and Gabriel because George hated to hear it.

Gabriel, on top of being a good artist, is a pretty damn good guitar player and also has a great voice. He mostly keeps it on the down low, though, even in adulthood.

Miguel didn’t pick up any instruments, but he sometimes wishes he picked up the violin before he became Spider-Man. Instead, he let Gabriela pick out an instrument she wanted to play, and if she happened to pick the violin, the onions that manifested were a complete coincidence.

Plus, it’s literally canon that Miguel goes to Mexico to celebrate Día de Los Muertos and that his suit in the comics was one he wore to the festivals. I think it’s better for that to be a thing he does bc the holiday is a big deal in his family rather than bc it’s an excuse to party or whatever.

His mother had an ofrenda and so does he.

Miguel Rivera is still alive (he was born in like 2005, he could totally still be alive in the 2090s and 2100s, so he is in my hc ☺️) so Miguel visits him in Mexico, too. Miguel is shy about singing in front of anybody, but his bisabuelo is able to bring him out of his shell, especially by singing his old songs that Miguel grew up listening to.

The more I think about it, the more attached I become to this hc.

Now I want to write a fic where Miguel is visiting a dimension in the 2020s (616B, 1610B, etc) and he happens to see that a young Mexican musician is starting to trend, and it’s his bisabuelo Miguel as a young man 🥹 so he buys tickets and flies to Mexico 🥹 to watch him live 🥹 and yes he knows this isn’t his bisabuelo but he is as close as he can get to a young Miguel Rivera at the start of his long and successful career and it just hits him in the soul 🥹

And if Miguel Rivera happens to notice a 6’9” giant at his show, who looks strangely familiar, watching him perform like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen… who’s to say.

[inky-bun]

Some blacklight action as a color test thing that I did last night that ended up turning out pretty cool

This is another au version of the boss character that I made a while ago because I can’t stop making jsab aus apparently

[miahasahardname]

hey guess how long it took me to stop scrolling through tumblr and post this stupid thing

the answer is

TOO LONG

[blue-eli]

Ink October day one: Emball

To enclose in a circle; to encircle or embrace.