#canon compliant until it's not

[shih-coulda-had-it]

and how extensive was this practice

[iholli]

been wanting to do this for a minute and had an absolute blast making it my project for the weekend. he's so much fun to draw it should be illegal I love him sm

[storytellering]

if anyone's looking for me, I'll be in delulu land manifesting Tony Redgrave for the new dmc anime, don't try and get me back xoxo thanks

[loveamongdragons]

"Things used to be simpler. Worse. But simpler."

[luv-again]

I love how one of my fic's underlying points is amy asking shadow to change her fate and reverse her curse with love, therefore asking him to love her in the way no one else has been able to : by sticking around

but ofc she doesn't realise that's what she means. and shadow doesn't know either. they're just going abt this mission completely oblivious to any budding feelings that may be occurring

[satsuha]

wait how could i forget... literally drew tmhk AA au bc it wouldn't stop eating at my brain

i didn't think it through too much but the way the games really emphasize the defense's mindset of "always believing in your client" vs many of the prosecutors' methods of always aiming for a guilty verdict... i can see tmhk thriving in those respective roles

i think it's also nice that they both have information-gathering path actions but both coerce and bribe are pretty shady in this context LOL

[wikiangela]

fuck it friday

it's technically friday here already and I'm trying to keep myself busy until 2am for the episode (and trying to stay awake, I've been up for over 20 hours now and there's 1.5h left lmao this is gonna be fun - but I am not missing the madney wedding live) so I figured I'd start fif off haha

today a lil more from my bucktommy smut that's slowly coming together (very slowly, it's gonna be so long, we're at 3k and they're still dressed, and I kinda want to spread it out over a few dates 🙈)

prev snippet

___

“Can I-” he starts, panting against Tommy’s lips. “I really need to touch you.” he gulps, his grip tightening just a little bit, a stifled sound escaping Tommy. Buck wants to hear him, wants to hear all the sounds he can elicit from him.

“You are touching me.” Tommy teases, and Buck kisses a smirk off his face, nipping at his bottom lip as he pulls away, Tommy chuckling in response. Buck is so enamored by this man, he can barely stop smiling.

“You know what I mean.” he shakes his head a bit.

“I do.” Tommy licks his lips. “But I kinda wanna hear it.” he adds with a smug grin, but then places his hands on Buck’s cheeks and makes him look into his eyes, smile turning into something softer. “I need you to tell me what you want.”

“I want you naked.” is what Buck blurts out, and as if involuntarily, Tommy’s hips thrust into his hand, a low groan escaping him.

“Alright, baby.” Tommy whispers, smiling softly, breathing heavy, and Buck thinks he’s going to melt, his heart speeding up.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13

[eliasdrid]

Tbh as far as ultraman lore goes the one thing i've been thinking about most lately is probably the pod baby thing - and right after that the fact that they don't have pregnancy as a species so (afaik) they mix genes and that's how new ultras come to be. Point is. Any 2+ ultras can be parents.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[ezkel]

The Perfect Heir

A summarized account of the life and death of Regulus Black. Featuring his relationship with his brother and with James Potter

warnings: canon-compliant, angst, violence, abuse, one sided sunseeker, walburga, implied deaths, regulus' awful self-esteem, etc

1200-ish words.

–-----------------------------------------------–

The first time Regulus heard of James Potter was in a letter. Sirius was so excited to talk about his new best friend. He adored the stories his brother included in the letter, a prank the two of them had played. Only a few days into their time in Hogwarts. Regulus couldn't wait to meet him; James Potter must be amazing. Every new letter came with new stories. Sirius wrote of his three dormmates and their adventures and pranks. Letters quickly became the highlight of his week. 

At the start of the Christmas holidays, Regulus waited patiently at the front door for his brother's return; he didn’t leave for hours. Not until his mother scolded him, “Regulus Arcturus, you’re acting pathetic. Your brother isn’t returning for these holidays. He’d only embarrass us.” Upon the harsh and hasty exit of Walburga, Kreature leads Regulus back up to his room to prepare for the Yule season's events. Regulus followed quietly, wondering why his brother had not mentioned this to him. He’d waited hours. 

After the Christmas holidays, the letters started to become less frequent. Regulus would write letters, hand them to his father to send, and wait for a response. The letters he sent would never get a response, almost like Sirius wasn’t even reading them. When he returns for the summer, he'll ask Sirius.

Sirius returned with a new flourish of energy; he’d talk non-stop about his time at Hogwarts. Regulus listens with wide eyes, never getting a chance to ask about the letters. Every time he’d say Sirius had already mentioned an event in his letters, Sirius would get a weird look on his face. Regulus couldn’t figure out what that look was. Regulus spent the summer before his first year following Sirius around and listening to his mother tell him how to act. He was expected to be in Slytherin, unlike his brother; he was expected to act dignified, unlike his brother; he was expected to be the perfect Black. 

The first time Regulus met James Potter, he immediately understood his brother's adoration for him. Regulus looked at him and saw the sun. This was immediately shattered when his brother seemingly lost all interest in him as soon as he also saw James Potter. Regulus at once understood the connection between them. Sirius was looking at Potter as he had always looked at him. Potter was his replacement. Regulus decides then that he will do as their mother says instead of attempting to follow in Sirius’ footsteps. He excuses himself and finds their cousins to sit with instead. 

When Regulus was first sorted into Slytherin, he still had hope that maybe Sirius wouldn’t be entirely replacing him. But as the months went by and the contact he had with his brother became more scarce, the hope was slowly lost. 

Regulus believes that the worst part of all of this is that he can’t truly hate James Potter. The arrogant, self-centered, annoying blood-traitor was still the sun in his eyes. Nothing compared to him. In the past several years, Regulus has come to terms with his horrifying crush on him and has come to terms with the fact that James Potter embarrassed himself weekly by attempting to date some muggleborn girl. He’d also come to terms with the fact that he was never going to get his brother back. Every year they’d return from Hogwarts, and Sirius would act out to annoy their parents, getting punished. Every year Regulus would patch Sirius up after the punishments only for his brother to yell at him for allowing their parents to act like this. 

When Regulus was 15, Sirius vanished in the middle of the night after a worse than usual punishment. No note, nothing, just vanished. Regulus wasn’t even worth a note from his brother. Regulus knew where he’d gone immediately. Walburga tried to force him to act as bait to get Sirius back at first, only for Regulus to end up locked in his room, writhing in pain. They gave up on Sirius after a few days, blasted him off the family tapestry, and named Regulus the heir. 

Regulus kept his back straight, accepting the title with grace. He was going to be the perfect son; he had to at least do that since he couldn't be the perfect brother. He started studying dark magic, started attending death eater rallies, and let himself become nothing but the perfect heir to the Black family. Once he was back in Hogwarts, he began associating with only the purebloods that would go on to become death eaters. Spending all his time to perfect his grades, perfect his quidditch techniques, and perfect his family's image. 

He refused to spend even one moment letting his eyes fall on James Potter or his brother. Refused to let the mask he had mastered slip and allow him to feel anything other than the anger and dedication that he needed to be perfect. 

He received the dark mark on his 16th birthday. He had to prove himself; he doubts he’ll ever be able to sleep again without hearing the screams of those muggles. He can’t let himself think about it. He’s the perfect heir, the youngest death eater, the perfect son. He doesn’t have the time or energy for guilt. 

Only a week after he took the mark, James Potter and the muggleborn got together. For the first time since he discovered his brother had left, he let his mask slip. Everything crashed down on him as he collapsed in an empty classroom. Everything was so much; nothing was him; he has done so much bad; he can’t do anything to change anything; he’s too deep; the only thing he knows how to do is be the perfect heir. 

After his breakdown, he forced the mask on stronger than before and delved deeper into the death eater ranks, always volunteering and constantly studying dark magic. Not a single moment did he allow himself room to breathe and feel. 

When the dark lord asked for a house elf, Regulus didn’t hesitate; he told Kreature to return to him but sent him off without hesitation. When Kreature returned half dead, Regulus finally gave up on what his family believed in. Kreature had been the only good part of his life for years; the Dark Lord would regret this. 

He spent several weeks gathering information before he had Kreature take him to the cave. Giving Kreature a final order to complete, he settled into the idea that he’d no longer have to be perfect.

“Kreature, when I become too weak to drink it on my own, make me drink it all, every drop. Then replace the locket at the bottom with this fake.”

In the midst of all the pain, he hallucinates his brother, his brother saying everything Regulus has ever believed to be true about him. He sees his mother. He sees his father. He sees Kreature. 

He sees James Potter.

As cold slimy hands drag and pull at his skin, the water enveloping his body, Regulus finally allows himself to feel again.

[tennessoui]

wip wednesday (early cause im offline tmrw)

When the dust settles, Obi-Wan is surprised to find himself still standing.

It takes all of him, he thinks, the end of the war. It takes everything he has.

He used to wonder, in a distant, nebulous way, what it would feel like in the aftermath. How his life would return to the routines he held before Geonosis, if the cadence of Temple life would feel strange and unfamiliar to him after so long spent in the trenches. If he would miss the sound of his men behind and around him, the steady stream of words and laughter and presence of others, at all times, surrounding him.

It’s only when the dust settles, when the first grains of sand whip through the arid desert air to sting his eyes, that he realizes that every time he ever allowed himself to think about the end of the war, he’d always assumed that they would win. He had never truly thought they would be defeated. That the Jedi Order, the Temple itself, so strongly entrenched in the galaxy and in Coruscant and in Obi-Wan’s world view, were capable of falling.

He had cautioned others against the same assumptions the moment he heard them. He had warned his own padawan to not look too far into the future, to not plan too much for the war’s end. He had told many people—clones, civilians, holonet reporters, other Jedi—that it was dangerous to think of the war as something they would inevitably win. Nothing was inevitable, especially not victory.

But he realizes now, only now, only as he traverses the desert on the back of a stolen eopie, wearing robes still smelling so strongly of volcanic sulfur that his eyes are stinging with reactionary tears, that he’d thought. He’d always thought. 

He’d never really considered…this.

This aftermath, where he is still standing on shaking legs and everything that he has ever cared for in the world has become ash, has become the dust settling around him.

Everything he has ever known and loved and fought for has slipped through his fingers. When the dust settles, when he looks down at his hands, he expects to find them empty.

Instead, there is a baby in his arms.

And he knows—he knows intimately how much damage these hands are capable of. What hurt these hands can inflict even on those he loves. Loved. 

He knows, as the homestead rises up in the fading light of the two suns, that these hands should not cradle this baby. Not the son of the man he has murdered. Not his brother’s son. Not his padawan’s. Not Anakin’s.

He knows the babe is safest here on this farm in the care of this couple. He knows he must leave the child with them, to raise and love a thousand times better than he is capable of. He has tried before. He has failed one Skywalker already.

He knows. 

And he can’t. He cannot let him go.

While the Galactic empire rises on one side of the galaxy, the dust settles on the other and Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at the babe in his hands and realizes that he cannot let him go.

Not another Skywalker.

[howly]

i've reluctantly come to realize that i'm kind of a canon purist when it comes to edward and bella. y'all who want to fix them... wyd? it's not like "it's not broken to fix". oh it's very very broken. broken like the crust of crème brûlée just after i tapped it with my spoon and before i devoured it enjoying every second of it. mmph. fucking delicious. i eat that up every time

[essenceofarda]

also on the note of headcanons i cannot fathom elves living centuries if not millennia without questioning their gender identities at least once lol

I'm a cisgender woman and I question my exact gender identity or presentation like... twice a year at least lmao

[read-write-thrive]

palasaki coffee shop AU my beloved 💜��

day four of @palasakiweek !!! somehow this one really got away from me and is like six times the length of the other ones I’ve been writing, but shhh its fine (and it’s still not super long anyway lol) plus I think I’m starting to get a hang of their voices ? idk hopefully I’m getting at least a little better lmao

[starlightvld]

I keep thinking about it - a Couch Surfing epilogue eight years in the future, when Ghost and Soap are on their last mission before retirement, pinned down in a warehouse and using an old couch as cover...

Soap, grumbling as he peers over the edge of the couch and picks off enemies with his rifle: "'An easy mission,' he said. 'Nothing to it,' he said. Nothing to it my arse! Price owes us for this cock up. And these wankstains are gonna feel my wrath in the meantime."

Ghost, doing the same: "Have I told you I love you today?"

Soap: "Ye have, but I always love to hear it, mo chridhe."

Ghost: "Good. Now let's kill these fuckers and go home."

Soap: "With fucking pleasure."

[daisychainsandbowties]

my unnecessarily deranged wolfwren fic continues

Chapter 2/5

Rating; e Word count: 10.5k

Summary:

Shin and Sabine are captured by bounty hunters and Shin decides that she needs to keep this stupid, colourful padawan alive for totally practical reasons as they work together to escape (and cause general mayhem). Cringefail gay antics ensue.

Excerpt:

//

Shin unlatches from the darkness with her hand outstretched and Sabine snarls as she feels a mental shove at the back of her mind. In it, the unmistakable shape of Shin’s hand and of course the fury of knowing it so well, having dreamed of it over and over and over again.

Still, Sabine moves. She can get shot for the sake of pride another day. It becomes an effort not to squint her eyes shut as she races forward. In front of her, the bounty hunters react; their blasters start to follow the loose curve she is taking toward them.

Before they can shout a warning at her, Sabine feels an outburst of energy swoop over her shoulders. It is, for an instant, like having wings.

Their bodies lock up – mouths halfway open, one of them caught midway through a startled blink with his eyelids drooped down. Shin’s voice rings out in her mind again.

“Show me what you can do, little Jedi.”

“Fuck you.” Sabine throws this down the – bond? - that hangs between them on the off-chance it might reach Shin. Or break whatever delicate thing she’s spun into the air.

Sabine moves, calling on the part of her that is still at war - still accustomed to split knuckles, to standing shirtless in her room on the Ghost splaying her fingers over bruises on her ribs. Waking up sore and falling into dreams of days worn thin by their repetition.

Holding spitting contests with Ketsu while they waited for their quarry to show up. Holding her blaster the way she’d been taught and catching Ketsu’s approving eye, jogging her with an elbow in reprisal.

“Dude, I’m not a baby bird.”

“Sure you are.”

Back then the violence made sense to her. It was a way of life and it was necessary and when she asked, Hera told her that it would mean something. And it did, does, but it also cost her everything.

As she rushes across the room, as the two bounty hunters freeze and teeter mid-step, Sabine can hear the kick of Shin’s heartbeat. Can almost feel the wall of Force-energy that flows from her outstretched hand.

Her face, suddenly picked out plain, wears a snarl as Sabine does what she is always liable to do. Running, she looks back at Shin to make sure that she’s still there.

Again, inconveniently, she is as striking as a slap across the face.

continue on Ao3