#alive and well au

[accecakes]

They deserve a little time off :"")

[breesperez139]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6

“I’m a twin”, Damian said one night. He could feel the narrowed eyes of his family drilling holes on his back in disbelief. Not that he could blame them. Damian had never so much as implied being raised with a companion, much less a sibling.

“I had a brother”. Damian paused to recollect himself. He had not said his brother’s name out loud in over 8 years.

“His name was… Danyal”. Damian hated the way his voice wavered, but he could not help it. Danyal was everything to him, his other half. Their heart beat as one and when one heart stopped beating, the other one died with it. At least until his family put his heart on metaphorical life support without ever realizing.

“Where is he now?” His father asked, voice filled with knowing grief and a hint of betrayal. It had in fact been 6 years since Damian first showed up on his doorstep.

“Up there”. All eyes shifted towards the specific star he was pointing to. “Right before he died, he promised me he’d guide me from the stars. Unfortunately, the stars are not visible in Gotham, so my brother is unable to be of much help unless I leave the city.”

“Your brother is Polaris, the North Star?” Tim questioned warily, most likely in attempts to not offend him. Damian was aware of how stupid it sounded, but Danyal had promised, and his brother never broke his promises.

“Yes. Danyal is with the stars now, just as he always wanted”

[naturecalls111]

unorthodox murder mystery

[hadaldemon]

dumb lil thought I had at work

Shadow Tako/Tako Milk form

[swiftmitsu]

[keferon]

Monster hunter au part 3

Also known as “Drift is a giant fox beast” comic ahah

I like to think these trails are really important as a safe space for Deadlock. This is his home, these are his favorite routes and his familiar and safe space.

So when he shows his paths to Ratchet it's a big gesture of trust. Because they're what makes the forest his home and he's willing to let Ratchet into that home:)

<- Previous part Next

Also. This au exists in the same world as my Spellbound au. Just in case you wanna break your heart a little bit

[1luckyrubberducky]

“I can be cool as a cucumber.

I can be serious, watch this, ready? Look-“

[kennedye-ken]

Coded Sincerity page 14

So this is the finish for Tessa's pov for now next up is how J and N's fight went!

[canisalbus]

doodled your little guys!!! I have so many thoughts about them. As someone who lives in Italy it has been absolutely wonderful seeing your characters express the country's culture and history!!! It's not often that I see characters be based off Italian history in such an artistic manner.. But that might be me living under a rock, LOL. Anyhow, keep doing what you do, YOU ROCK!!!!

.

[silkwound]

I've decided to explore this AU idea further and made some additional pictures. I like to imagine that over time this lifestyle would prove beneficial for Ogata, and he would somehow find his peace in it.

x / twitter

[saturnsorbits]

Secret Santa at the office where you jokingly tell your desk neighbour that you’d settle for a smiling Bakugo for Christmas…

Queue the Christmas party.

The soft hum of Christmas music floats through the air, layered under the gentle chatter and gossip that blooms from groups seated around glass topped tables with too many empty champagne flutes. Gifts are exchanged, some more well received than others.

Izuku buys Ochako a far too expensive necklace, that does the job of outing his crush on her so he doesn’t have to. Mineta buys Momo a G-String and is promptly escorted out with notice to report to HR come Monday. A new tie passes from Shoji to Tokoyami. A desk-weight set between Tetsutetsu and Kirishima.

You’re giftless so far and as Bakugo trudges down the stairs with his signature frown itching at his skin between his eyes - you expect to remain that way.

He strides towards you and stops short, before fumbling around in his pocket.

‘Bakugo, if you’re my secret Santa you don’t have to-.’

Swearing under his breath, he snatches the bright red bow from his suit pants and pins it to the shoulder of his shirt with a too hard smack. ‘You sure?’ He grins, flashing teeth and cocking an eyebrow. ‘Because I got you exactly what you wanted.’

[wispitty]

law x reader | “sugar & surgeons” {ch.1}

summary: you're an aspiring chef that never planned to end up on a submarine full of pirates. but after collapsing in the rain, you wake aboard the Polar Tang, surrounded by a crew that’s far more chaotic (and sweet) than you expected, alongside a certain captain with storm-grey eyes you can’t seem to decipher… or stop thinking about. tag list: law/you, corazon is alive and well and a member of the heart pirates au, slow burn romance, found family, food as love language, romcom vibes, happiness bc they fucking deserve it chapter list:

chapter one

Chapter 1: Cinnamon & Rain

The storm had crept in like a bad habit—quiet at first, but relentless in its persistence. Raindrops hissed against the cobblestones, soaking the narrow streets of the port town in a cold, unwelcoming sheen. The distant thrum of thunder rolled across the rooftops like a sigh of warning.

Corazon’s coat flapped heavily behind him, waterlogged and clinging to his frame. He muttered something half-hearted under his breath, not quite a curse, but far from cheerful.

This had been meant to be a simple errand. In, out, back to the ship with a restock of medical supplies and something warm to eat for the crew. Instead, he was soaked to the bone, the bakery had been closed, and the only thing he’d managed to pick up was an umbrella he forgot to open until after the rain started.

Brilliant.

He rounded the corner, boots splashing quietly through shallow puddles, and tugged the collar of his coat higher. The streets were mostly deserted now, save for flickering lanterns hanging beneath awnings and the occasional stray dog darting between crates. The town, in all its gloomy hush, almost felt asleep.

Until he collided with something—someone.

He staggered back a step, arms reflexively catching hold of what at first he thought was just a bundle of fabric. But it wasn’t. It was warm. Breathing. Trembling.

A young woman.

Corazon blinked, startled, looking down at the figure now cradled awkwardly in his arms. Her clothes were soaked, her hair plastered to her face, and she looked like she’d been out in the rain far longer than he had.

“Hey—” His voice cracked out of his throat, rusty from disuse. He cleared it and tried again, softer. “Hey. Are you alright?”

She stirred faintly at the sound, lips parting, her expression flickering with something between confusion and relief. Then her knees buckled fully.

Corazon caught her before she hit the ground.

A moment passed. The rain fell.

He knelt there in the street, her weight in his arms, heart thudding not from fear—but from a strange, quiet urgency he hadn’t felt in a long time. She wasn’t unconscious, not fully, but close. And burning up.

Fever.

Corazon shifted her in his arms, brow furrowing under the wet strands of his hair. He glanced down the street. The Polar Tang wasn’t far—just past the next dock. Law was still aboard, probably irritated that he hadn’t returned yet, but—

He looked at the woman again. She smelled faintly of sugar and spices, even soaked to the skin. Her hands were scratched. Fingernails stained with something—cinnamon?

A baker?

No. A cook, maybe.

What the hell were you doing out here?

He sighed and stood, adjusting her weight gently in his arms. Rain rolled down the side of his face, stinging against the cuts he'd gotten earlier from a smashed bottle. He ignored it.

“I’ve got you,” he muttered quietly, voice barely more than a breath. “Hang on.”

And with that, Corazon carried her through the rain.

Toward the ship. Toward safety.

Toward something none of them knew yet.

After about ten minutes, her breathing started getting worse.

Sharp, shallow gasps against his coat, each one shuddering like her body couldn’t decide whether it was hot or freezing. Her fingers curled lightly into the fabric at his collar, grasping at something—anything—to anchor herself.

Corazon’s boots pounded against the slick stone as he picked up his pace, arms tightening protectively around her trembling frame. She was still conscious, barely, but whatever had weakened her was setting in fast. And the storm wasn’t letting up.

Another crack of thunder split the sky, closer this time. Wind surged through the streets like a living thing, howling between buildings and slamming a nearby shutter open and shut.

He didn’t flinch. He couldn’t afford to.

“There, just a little more,” he whispered to her, though he wasn’t sure if she could hear. “Stay with me.”

The Polar Tang came into view—its clean yellow hull a comforting contrast against the dark storm. Crew members stood just outside the hatch, scrambling to secure tarps and equipment before the wind tore them loose. Two men in matching uniforms looked up when they heard the hurried footsteps. Their eyes widened.

“Rossi?!”

“Who’s that?!”

Corazon didn’t stop to answer. Rain streamed off his hair and down his face, his coat dragging like lead behind him as he barreled toward the ramp. His arms shifted her weight again instinctively, his voice raised—not panicked, but tight.

“She needs help. Get Law.”

The commotion brought more of the crew to the entryway, boots thudding, voices overlapping in confusion. A few of them backed up at the sight—Corazon, drenched, carrying someone unknown and clearly feverish.

The sight of him alone was enough to sound alarm bells.

“She’s burning up,” he said more firmly this time, breath hitching. “She collapsed—on the street—"

The crowd parted.

And Law stepped forward.

He was dry, composed, standing just inside the threshold with the lighting overhead casting shadows under his eyes. His coat was unbuttoned, a cup of untouched coffee in his hand. But the second he saw Corazon, soaked and wild-eyed, and the girl in his arms…

The mug was forgotten.

“Bring her in,” Law said sharply, voice already shifting into command.

The medical bay lights flickered on.

And Corazon—heart pounding, soaked to his bones, and still not letting go—finally crossed the threshold, never once loosening his grip.

The metal doors hissed open, the soft sterile glow of the Polar Tang’s infirmary spilling across the floor as Law strode in ahead of them. He’d already rolled his sleeves to the elbow, black gloves snapped on with clinical precision. The moment Corazon stepped through the threshold, the warmth hit like a wave—artificial but welcome.

“Put her on the table,” Law instructed calmly, pointing to the main med bay cot. He was already moving to the cabinets, grabbing supplies with practiced ease. “Bepo, start the vitals. Shachi, Penguin—blankets, towels, anything dry.”

“Aye!” “On it!”

Corazon didn’t say a word as he laid her down gently, water dripping from his coat onto the tile. He knelt at the edge of the bed for a moment longer, brushing her soaked hair from her face with fingers that were starting to tremble—from cold, probably. Probably.

Her brow was furrowed. Her lips parted. Her breathing, still shallow, rasped faintly with each inhale.

She looked… like hell. Yet, there was a softness to her face, even beneath the paleness and damp hair. Skin flushed with fever, lashes clumped from the rain. A bruise was forming at her knee from the fall, and a faint cinnamon scent still clung to her.

“Rossi,” Shachi’s voice broke through the hush, “you’re soaked. You’re gonna catch somethin’. Go change before you collapse too.”

Corazon blinked, barely registering the towel that had been shoved into his hands.

Bepo stepped between them, paws already checking her pulse and temperature. “She’s burning up. Fever’s been building for hours, maybe longer. Did she say anything?”

“No,” Corazon croaked, then cleared his throat. “Just collapsed. She was standing. Then—gone.”

“Then she’s lucky you found her,” Law muttered without looking up, focused entirely on inspecting her limbs, checking her responsiveness. His brows knit as he observed her condition. “There’s no sign of injury aside from the fall. This looks viral. Possibly exhaustion too—malnourished, dehydrated…”

He paused, glancing at her hands.

Small cuts, calluses. Fingertips stained faintly red-brown.

“…Cinnamon?”

Shachi peered closer. “Wait, is she a baker?”

“She smells like cookies,” Bepo offered, ears twitching.

Law didn’t reply, but his gaze lingered for just a second longer than it needed to. That's when your eyes fluttered open briefly, hazy and unfocused, and he caught the faintest glimpse of color—somewhere between honey and warm morning light—before they slipped closed again.

“Responds to light stimuli. That’s good.” He reached for an IV line. “Let’s stabilize her vitals, get her fluids—Penguin, prep antibiotics.”

“I’m serious, Rossi,” Shachi warned from behind. “You’re sneezing already. You’re not helpin’ anyone if you keel over.”

As if on cue, Corazon sneezed. Loudly.

“…That’s not a denial,” Penguin added, tossing him a dry shirt and a sour look. “Get your ass changed.”

Corazon, who had been hovering just out of Law’s way, reluctantly caught the clothes. His eyes never left her as he slowly backed toward the door.

“I’ll be right outside,” he murmured.

Law gave a curt nod without looking up.

The door slid shut behind him.

The room quieted—save for the steady beep of a monitor, the rustle of blankets, and the slow, strained breathing of a girl who smelled like warmth and sugar, even as she lay on the brink of breaking.

Law glanced down once more, his hands stilling slightly as he adjusted the IV line. For all her softness, there was something stubborn in her brow, something that made him pause.

“…What the hell were you doing out there?”

He didn’t expect an answer. But he waited.

Eventually, the rain began to soften outside.

It still pattered gently on the steel of the hull, rhythmic and distant like the lingering echo of a heartbeat. The ship had stilled with it—no rushing crew, no barking orders. Just a hush that settled over the halls of the Polar Tang like a blanket.

Corazon sat on the bench just outside the infirmary, now clad in dry sweats and a towel draped around his shoulders. His hair, still damp, clung lazily to his temples. A mug of tea rested untouched in his hands, the steam rising up to kiss his nose, but he didn’t drink.

He was listening.

Through the door, he could hear the soft beeps of the machines, the quiet shuffle of movement as Law wrapped up treatment. No alarms. No panic.

She was stable.

That alone made his shoulders ease slightly, though the knot in his chest refused to fully loosen.

The door opened with a soft hiss. Law stepped through first, removing his gloves with a snap. Bepo followed, giving a small nod and thumbs-up. Behind them, Shachi and Penguin trailed in with quieter footsteps.

“She’s asleep,” Law said flatly, coming to a stop across from Corazon. “Vitals have normalized. Fever’s still high, but under control.”

Corazon exhaled, just barely.

Bepo sat beside him with a warm sigh. “She’s lucky you found her when you did.”

“I didn’t find her,” Corazon muttered, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. “She found me. I turned a corner and—bam. Face full of cinnamon girl.”

“…Cinnamon girl?” Penguin repeated under his breath, exchanging a look with Shachi.

Law raised a brow. “You didn’t see anyone else?”

Corazon shook his head. “Just her. Standing in the middle of the street. She looked confused. Pale. Barely upright. Then she fell into me.”

“She might’ve been looking for help,” Bepo said gently.

“Or trying to get somewhere,” Shachi added. “Didn’t look like she had anything on her, though. No bag. No coat.”

“Yeah,” Penguin muttered. “Just soaked and barely breathing. She definitely wasn’t out there sightseeing.”

Law crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “We’ll need to ask her questions once she wakes up. For now, let her rest.”

Corazon nodded, but his brows tugged together.

“…She smelled like bread, Law,” he said suddenly. “Even through the rain. Not just cinnamon. Dough. Yeast. Butter. She must’ve been cooking.”

Law gave him a sour look. Bread, ew.

“I’m saying,” Corazon added, defensively, “she might be a chef. Or worked in a bakery. Something happened to her. Maybe she got caught in the storm trying to escape something.”

Law didn’t argue. He just sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I’m not patching up a cinnamon-scented mystery girl just for you to adopt her, you know.”

“Well, duh. She’s not a stray cat.”

“You sure?” Penguin teased. “You already brought her home and wrapped her in a blanket.”

Corazon opened his mouth, then sneezed again.

“Get back in bed,” Law said flatly.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re always ‘fine’ until you faint in the hallway.”

Corazon grumbled but sank further into the bench. Bepo gently patted his arm.

Inside the med bay, the girl lay curled under thick blankets, color slowly returning to her cheeks. She didn’t stir—but a small crease remained between her brows, like her dreams hadn’t quite let her go.

Corazon’s gaze lingered on the closed door.

“She looked scared,” he said quietly. “Even before she collapsed.”

Law followed his line of sight, arms crossed again.

“Then let’s make sure,” he murmured, “she has no reason to be anymore.”

A few hours passed after that.

And the Polar Tang hummed gently, cradled in quiet waters.

The storm outside had faded to a light drizzle, barely audible against the hull. Inside the infirmary, the harsh white lights had been dimmed, casting the room in a calmer, warmer tone.

She was still asleep.

But this time, it looked peaceful.

Her brow had smoothed out. Her breathing had evened, soft and steady. A faint flush returned to her cheeks, the fever no longer raging but resting, like embers banked in a hearth. Her damp clothes had long since been changed into one of the med bay’s clean shirts, slightly oversized, the collar dipping off one shoulder.

She looked… better. Human again. Real.

Law stepped in first, his clipboard in hand, though he didn’t bother pretending to take notes. Corazon followed, this time dry, and significantly less sneezy. He’d left the towel behind but still had a faint halo of frizz around his head from letting his hair air-dry in true stubborn fashion.

Neither of them said anything at first.

They just stood there, a comfortable silence settling between them. The kind that came after everything had gone wrong… but then slowly started to go right.

The kind they were used to.

Law glanced down at the sleeping woman, his gaze scanning her face for any lingering signs of distress. None.

He didn’t realize how much tenser he’d been until his shoulders eased.

“She’s recovering well,” he murmured, voice low to avoid waking her. “Temperature’s nearly normal. Her immune system’s fighting back.”

He paused.

“…She’s stronger than she looks.”

Corazon stood at the edge of the bed, one hand in his coat pocket, the other lightly tapping against his thigh. His gaze was steady.

And then—softly, thoughtfully—

“She’s pretty, huh?”

Law blinked. Looked at him. Then scowled.

“That’s not medically relevant.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

Corazon didn’t repeat himself.

He just tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving her sleeping form. His voice wasn’t teasing or flirtatious. It was just… honest.

Law followed his gaze. He looked again. Properly this time.

And now that he wasn’t in surgeon mode—now that the fever had broken and she was no longer clinging to life—he saw it too.

There was something warm about her. Even asleep. Even still pale and recovering. The roundness of her face, the soft lines, the faint crinkle of her lashes. The way her lips curved, just barely, like she was dreaming about something sweet.

“Hmph,” Law muttered. “Still not medically relevant.”

Corazon smiled faintly, a hand brushing over his damp bangs.

“And yet you haven’t disagreed.”

Law gave him a look.

“I’m just saying,” Corazon shrugged, sheepishly.

The girl stirred slightly, shifting beneath the blankets. One hand peeked out from under the covers—small, fingers twitching slightly, reaching toward the empty air beside her like she was searching for something in a dream.

Law stepped forward automatically, leaning in to check her pulse again, but her breathing stayed steady.

“She’ll wake soon,” he said.

Corazon nodded, glancing toward the corner of the room. “You want me to set out something for her to eat? She’ll be starving.”

Law hesitated.

“…Something light.”

“You got it.”

Corazon turned to go, a hint of his usual lopsided smile returning to his face.

“I think she’s gonna be alright,” he said quietly, more certain this time.

Law didn’t answer.

Just stood there a moment longer, watching the cinnamon-scented stranger sleep as the storm finally passed.

[peace-hunter]

tfone au where OP is created as the last of the primes but way after them, a sparkling born at what were thought to be the last days of the war against the quintessons, the beginning of a new generation of peace after eons of war. a child meant to be loved and raised knowing nothing of war nor sacrifice.

he's kept mostly out of the spotlight by his siblings, who don't wish to expose him to everyone's optics so young, and want to wait until the war is done and over to properly introduce him to their people.

except of course the primes are betrayed and murdered by sentinel, the war is lost and everyone who knows and cared for the truth is either banished or outright killed in order to suppress it.

and the high guard, the ones the primes trusted the most, the ones that were supposed to protect them, the ones who failed in their most important duty, have to make a choice. to take the last prime, their last hope, with them to the surface, a hostile environment where there's little to no supplies and where they'll be hunted down by both sentinel and the quintessons as the biggest threat to their regimen.

or hide him in plain sight. place him where sentinel won't think to look for him. one more sparkling among many. and hope it will be enough to keep him alive. pray to primus that he'll protect his last child long enough for them to come back for him when it's safer (even if most of them have already lost their faith on him when he allowed the rest of his children to be massacred like that)

they almost lose their resolve when they realize they will have to take the little one's cog away in order to make him blend in with the rest of the newborns (and oh do they burn with murderous intent when they see what sentinel has done to their people but it's not the time yet-) but in the end they decide an impaired little prime is better than a dead one.

and so in the chaos of thirteen dead primes and a sudden energon crisis, a little sparkling who very few mechs really knew about and even fewer had seen completely vanishes. and in the depths of iacon a mech in charge of a new batch of newborns scratches their helm in confusion as they realize they must have miscounted the first time.

optimus prime is quietly erased from any official records by sentinel, written off as dead when they find a sparkling's frame mangled beyond recognition after an attack on the base of those rebels that insist on being a thorn on his side. killing the sparkling hadn't been precisely in his plans, he probably could've found some use for it after all, but he's not particularly upset about it either.

and orion pax grows up with an ache on his spark that tells him he's missing something far more important than a t-cog and dreams of gentle and loving hands, cradling him against the frames of mechs he cannot recall the faces of.

[cringefail-clown]

four kids and an ai play a game more at 10

[phoenixcatch7]

Dp x dc twin au where Danny and Damian were in fact conjoined/siamese twins, but the most dangerous type - one head, two bodies.

Their early removal from talia being because their shape would not have allowed for natural birth, they were written off but talia begged for the chance to send them off in the lazarus pit.

By some bizarre miracle, before she turned to leave, two small bodies bobbed to the surface - identical in every way, except for the eyes. The previous blue eyes now split in two, one left, one right, and the new eyes, pit created, a bright green.

She took her child, her two children, and together, they survived.

Being removed prematurely, their early years were tough, but soon they blossomed into promising heirs for the league. In sync with every step, the closest of brothers, the league was certain the old fairy tale of twins being telepathic had been granted by the pit that separated them, the remnants of being born as one mind, one brain, one skull.

But then Danny had to flee, and leave his other half behind. Stretched by distance for the first time, the bond grew thin and stretched, and Damian grieved his brother as dead. When he started being sent on public missions, he hid his distinctive heterochromia, choosing the green in memory of the pit that had given him and his brother life.

Danny, hiding his pit aura in the ocean's worth that was Amity park, took to blue, the colour that he and Damian were born with.

Damian moves to Gotham, and continues to mourn his brother as dead, right until one day when he is twelve, when he learns what the death of your other half truly feels like.

-

Their reunion is a thing of family legend. Violence runs hot in both bloodlines, ghosts are highly emotional and prone to fighting a the drop of a hat for bonding, playing, testing, every reason under the green sun. Their training and play often consisted of friendly spars, competitive spars, furious spars, venting spars. Both have been exposed to unhealthy amounts of ecto since before their birth.

There is a long, long minute of staring, before they rip themselves away and lunge at each other like wolves.

The bat family are horrified by their brutally efficient youngest suddenly barreling towards a clone (?) and trying to claw his throat open with his bare hands while openly sobbing.

It ends with them wrapped around each other crying into the others shoulder as their minds finally meet again and relax from the painful stretch for the first time in years.

But nobody else has any idea what to do.

[joydvst]

get lovebugged you fool

definitely NOT a late valentines day art!!!!!!!!!!!