In the summer after Harry's sixth year, Harry and Remus uncover a section of the Marauder's Map which has been hidden for the past twenty years, releasing a carbon copy of sixteen-year-old Sirius Black from its depths. As they prepare for the impending war, Sirius must find a place for himself in this new world, Harry must find a way to destroy Voldemort, and Remus must face his own past while trying to build a tenuous future with Tonks.

"And remember: Star-Burns died for your sins." Wherein wishes become a[n almost] daily phenomenon, rules are broken and re-negotiated, and Greendale continues to evolve around shifting student-body relationships. This picks up immediately after 4x01, effectively an alternate Season 4 (and everything thereafter, for that matter). Expect occasional additions (e.g. the recent arrival of #11).

He bled out on the snowy grounds of the Night’s Watch, not expecting to wake again. But he did wake, and it was not in the forlorn outreaches of the Wall, but back at Winterfell, where King Robert Baratheon was a day’s ride away… Old Nan had always warned against changing fate, but how can Jon refuse a chance to prevent the game of thrones?

Where the loss of ignorance is more valuable than the knowledge gained, and Edward figures out the source of alchemy a lot sooner than before. "Edward has cockroaches under his skin and leeches in his veins. He's vibrating and bursting and his body is too small, too big, doesn't fit quite right. He needs Al to know - needs to tell someone, anyone, but he will cut out his own tongue before he burdens anyone else with this knowledge."

A collection of ficlet-like rambles and other HP-centric stuff from my tumblr. Ficlet-Ramble #1: Seventh-Year will put Your Name in GOF for a Sickle You’re a first-year who can’t cast Wingardium Leviosa yet? Whatever, sure, just pay up. There’s no way you're going to be chosen against Angelina “Can Probably Crush You With Her Thighs” Johnson, but at least you can tell all your eleven-year-old buddies that you Did A Cool Thing.

Claire Dearing has successfully run Jurassic World for seven years without a major incident. Trust Owen Grady to fuck that up. (Or, three months prior to the Indominus Event, Vic Hoskins makes a bad decision, Owen Grady goes missing, and four six-foot, three hundred pound murder lizards escape into Claire's park. She can hear Alan Grant shouting, "I told you so!" from Montana.)

“I once heard a rumour that this is how Lan An and his cultivation partner did it,” Ma Qiao piped up. “Which, I mean, if anyone could…” “The Lans are far too boring and repressed for something like this,” Wei Wuxian said, with the authority of one who had been resoundingly ignored by a Lan for the past month. “Can you imagine Lan Wangji dual cultivating?” Everyone knows that dual cultivation is a myth that only works in porn. Wei Wuxian discovers differently.

Once upon a time in Yiling, a rumor started about the Yiling Patriarch having started to collect a harem of beautiful young men from a variety of sects. (it was Nie Huaisang's fault) (to be fair, the porn didn't help)

When Jiang Yanli joins Jiang Cheng in visiting Wei Wuxian at the Burial Grounds, the two brothers are on the verge of cutting ties forever — until Jiang Yanli has a better idea. Wei Wuxian doesn't need to leave the sect. He needs to get married, and she has the perfect Sect Leader in mind. When Lan Wangji is invited to come along on Wei Wuxian's visit to the Unclean Realm to spend time with his new betrothed, Nie Mingjue, he agrees — even though his heart is breaking. How else is he ever going to see Wei Wuxian again? When Nie Mingjue welcomes Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji into his home, he realizes two things very quickly: 1.) They clearly want each other so badly they can barely stand it, and 2.) Nie Mingjue is Into That. (In which arranged marriage to Nie Mingjue solves just about everyone's problems)

Figuring out that the second daughter of the Jiang clan was, in fact, their son and heir - if you look at it by Qinghe standards - when no one else in Yunmeng had yet figured it out caused Nie Mingjue enough of a headache, and it must have given him a bit of a reputation for sticking his nose into other people's business. That must be the reason that Jiang Cheng would come to him of all people after the fall of the Lotus Pier, hand a little too low down on his stomach for the problem to be food poisoning, to ask for advice - or maybe it was only that he had nobody else to turn to.

No one knows what the Council is hiding, but the effects ripple throughout the galaxy. Anakin knows he is loved. Former slaves are freed. A long-lost Master and his Padawan are returned to the Temple. No one understands how Obi-Wan Kenobi does these things, but they are grateful for it anyway. A time-travel story from the points of view of everyone but the time travelers.

In an attempt to find an ancient weapon that will let them fight a Sith Lord on equal ground, Jon seeks out a lost Jedi Temple on a war-torn world. Saving two clone troopers isn't anywhere in the plan, and letting them tag along with him seems like inviting trouble, but Jon does it anyway. It's possible that Knol has a point about his instincts getting him killed one of these days.

The light overhead isn't from Minion island's overcast sky but instead a steel plated ceiling shining down fluorescence, glass and plastic bottles rattling on shelves against the walls. Everywhere there's monitors and familiar machinery and the distinct tang of antiseptic, sharp beyond the memory sense of blood and snow. For half a second Law looks at it all very blankly and thinks, What The Hell. Is he dreaming. Is he hallucinating. Is he just plain dead. His sight-line completes the rotation of this impossibility to fall upon speckled jeans and a long sweeping coat. And the man standing in front of Law has the blankest expression Law's ever seen. And the man standing in front of Law has Law's father's face. Underneath Law's blood-slicked fingers, Cora-san's pulse shudders. (This is a story where the past and the present collide. Wherein thirteen year old Trafalgar Law and twenty-six year old Rocinante tumble sideways through time-space via the blue desperation of a newly eaten devil fruit, from Minion island to a future distant. Right, unwittingly, onto the submarine deck of a another Law shortly after Doflamingo’s fall.)

Shouta’s plan had been ill-defined and desperate from the start, but he figures the important shit boiled down to, “Change as little as possible, make sure Midoriya doesn’t get himself killed, and stock up on lychee jelly pouches because that flavor got discontinued three years from now.” Keeping it simple’s always better, and he’s normally good at improvising. Somewhere along the way, he must’ve fucked up since now he has: A quirkless problem child hanging off of his every word His best friend going through a sexuality crisis thanks to said problem child’s mom His other best friend clinging to him like a security blanket Some two-bit mob boss threatening him with bouquets of daffodils To wring the number one hero’s fucking neck for not telling him anything useful before sending him decades into the past All he did was walk Izuku Midoriya home. It wasn’t meant to turn into whatever mess this is.

Waking up two years before their adventure even began was a surprise. The Straw Hats have to find each other again and make their way back to the New World and their dreams. Dealing with younger, weaker bodies and the weight of future knowledge they will find it's not as easy as a simple do-over. Every change has an effect on themselves and on the world. This story will quickly diverge from cannon. It will mix up, move around and ignore entire arcs. These guys are not looking for a boring adventure when they already have answers. What's the point in doing it all the same?

Anakin wasn’t sure how to ask, so he didn't. Instead, he waited until Master Kenobi fell asleep and stayed up to tinker in the dark, building his own scanner out of parts stolen from the trash. The chip was in his right thigh.

Mando’ade were personally offended by their existence on all fronts, and it didn’t matter what faction. Kyr’tsad hated Jango, the Haat Mando’ade hated what the clones meant for them, and the New Mandalorians hated war and all its pieces. The last thing Fox needed was another shipment of empty, bloody plastoid delivered to the bricks. There really was no telling which one sent the package. A whole squad. Gone. Fox hoped they were dead. Anything else was too painful to think about. Or; Fox finds a huge cache of beskar. The potential ramifications of this do not escape him. And then a new faction of Mandalorians arrives on Coruscant. Fox decides he's too tired to deal with this shit anymore.

The clones were supposed to be identical soldiers, flawless and efficient products. Instead, they were friction, disorientation, nonconformity. Or, As Kafer writes, ‘Disability too often serves as the agreed upon limit to our projected futures.’ This is me imagining different.