Orochimaru gets one more chance. Just maybe, it will be enough to save him—and the entire world as well.

Sherlock needs John. John lights up around Sherlock. Mary loves her boys and thinks this is a lot less complicated than they are making it. Set right after TEH and before SoT. Fast turning into a bloody epic season three fix-it.

5+ AU Headcanons rambling (sort of) fic: Naruto + AU where Team 7 gets a different sensei?

5+ AU Headcanons rambling (sort of) fic: Naruto + AU where Minato survives the sealing?

He had died- honorably, he'd like to think, despite living as a villain and an assassin for over half a century- and that, as far as Xanxus had ever figured, would be the end of that. No heaven. No hell. Just life when you were breathing and nothingness when you stopped. Except that it didn't, quite, turn out that way. Except he came back as the son of the kindest, sometimes saddest father in the world. In both worlds. A father that he knew, without a doubt, to be his flesh and blood. All at once, Xanxus had everything he'd wanted as a child. A home. A family. Stability. And he was going to fight like hell and beat down anyone who tried to take it from him, no matter what his age. (In which Sakumo raises a son who speaks multiple languages from birth, all of them gibberish to the poor single father jounin, spits vulgarity with the same ease as he does his praise and burns with an unshakable determination to build himself a family that will not fall, no matter who or what is thrown against it.)

Stiles wakes up in a world in which Kate Argent was never born.

A What if…? taking off from the “I’ll do you pro bono” scene in 1x11. Alec accepts Magnus’ initial offer; things grow complicated from there.

“Tell me I’m beautiful, Lan er-gege!” “You are well aware you are beautiful,” Lan Wangji says. Wei Wuxian trips over Jiang Wanyin and sends both of them to the ground in a tangle of limbs and bruises.

Crumpled at the base of Koi Tower’s long stairs for the second time, Jin Guangyao presses his face into the stone, takes a deep breath despite re-broken ribs, and arranges his features as carefully as he knows how. Then he stands, moving carefully around the pain, and bows deep, arms held straight and true. The walk back up the steps to his father's side is painful enough to wipe the smile from his face; it is not painful enough to prevent him re-taking his place as seneschal, bowing again at the top of the steps. As he straightens, he prioritizes his plans for his father’s demise over all else.

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.

Kaminari walks up to Todoroki in the hallway after class and says, “Dude, I need your help.” Todoroki checks over his shoulder, twice, to verify that Kaminari is indeed talking to him. “Why?” “Yesterday you asked Shinsou-kun if he was Aizawa-sensei’s son,” Kaminari says, as though that explains anything at all. “...yes?” “Make a hero conspiracy YouTube channel with me.”

For most people, dying and waking up in your eight-year-old body is a second chance at life. For Dabi, it is a chance to make his shitty father’s life a living hell. Or: Dabi sucks at this whole time travelling thing. In his defence though, there’s really not much a kid can do in the grand scheme of things… or so he thought.

“Can't kriffing believe he sent a Naboo to kriffing Tatooine,” Owen says, too loud, but—they're in the middle of the wilderness. There's no one who’s going to hear him except the Force, and if it does hear him, he hopes it turns around and beats some light-bedamned sense into Obi-Wan Kenobi’s skull. In his lap, fully entranced by the corner of the blanket Owen has him bundled in, Luke coos, beams, and flips his tail. The fancy, flowing, colorful fins slap Owen’s thigh, and he sighs, tugs the bottom of the wrap down to hide as much as he can.

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?

He’d been pacing across the deck, considering in which direction to search next, when a great beam of light suddenly shot up into the sky far ahead; a beacon, a herald, a return. Surely, such a powerful thing could only come from one source, one which had to be- Zuko collapsed to the deck before he even had a chance to demand if Uncle Iroh knew what it meant.

The news that Timothy Drake, Gotham’s cryptid millionaire, has shot the Joker dead during a public live-stream hits the world like a freight train—and that is just the opening salvo of his bugfuck plan. Maybe there exists, in the multiverse, a configuration of Jason Todd who will weather this with decorum, dignity and self-respect. This version of Jason Todd decides that the life of an academic is not, really, all that rewarding. In contrast, the life of Timothy Drake’s live-in house-husband is looking more appealing by the second.

For most people, dying and waking up in your eight-year-old body is a second chance at life. For Dabi, it is a chance to make his shitty father’s life a living hell. Or: Dabi sucks at this whole time travelling thing. In his defence though, there’s really not much a kid can do in the grand scheme of things… or so he thought.